#v knowing fully well that place is gone: sure bud :)

[totentnz]

i love the ballad of buck reavers quest, not because its the first time we get a glimpse into johnny but because the game acts like (streetkid) v who has lived in nc most of their life doesnt know that the rainbow cadanza or whatever its called doesn't exist anymore/ there is something else where it's supposed to be

[venenatd]

last meal; jean kirstein x reader

summary: you and jean are in a relationship, and finally get some private time for a cute picnic date the day before he goes on the mission to marley. it’s v cute but also ur both horny!

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (public/outdoors sex, dracylphilya, size kink, fingering, thigh riding, use of “good girl/baby”, praise kink, female bodied reader, unprotected sex, creampie) some fluff for good measure.

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 3.3k words of unedited content

a/n: i saw a cottage core inspired jean post and this idea immediately popped into my head. i also kept thinking back to the sunset blush scene and it felt destined lmao. i thought it was gonna be shorter but i guess i get carried away lol. pls feel free to send me requests or ideas or give any advice on what you liked!! thanku!<3

Everything is painted with gold. The sun hanging low in the sky, despite the late hour, still warms your skin. You and Jean walk away from the Scout Headquarters, warmth of the evening allowing you to roam without coats. 

He’s in a tight cream shirt, braces holding up darker toned pants. A simple hat sits on his head, shading his eyes from the setting sun. You, a simple sage dress, loose and flowing around your legs. The long grass tickles your flesh, and the two of you laugh as you try running through the field, lifting your limbs stupidly high to jump over the pasture. 

Jean snorts at you, watching you flap around. The orange hue of dusk makes your hair shine, your skin glow beautifully. And as you look up at him, a wide and goofy smile spreading across your face, he can see all the flecks and details of varying colours in your eyes. And it takes his breath away. 

It was the last night before the end. He’s not sure of what, but it feels like the next chapter is to be finished when he closes his eyes tonight. Tomorrow he goes to Marley. Hange ordered all of their team to go relax for the final day at home. “We’ve gone over the plans enough, we know every angle! Go! Shoo!”

Hange was right. Going in and getting Eren home. It was engrained in Jeans brain. The scouts knew everything they were going to before they arrived. So tonight, it’s all about you.

You, with your skirt floating around you as you weave between trees, making your way to the clearing the two of you know so well. It’s where he first admitted feelings, where you first kissed. The others don’t know (or so you both think), and until he’s safe from his last mission, you’re not sure the two of you will ever reveal your affiliation. 

Pulling a blanket from the picnic basket you’ve brought with you, Jean lays it down on the ground. There’s a wide pond in front of you both, some ducks still paddling about. A thin haze floats over the water, the last of the summer heat still encouraging dragonflies and water skippers out. 

The light snacks you’d managed to sneak out from your job in the kitchen were delicious. You’d whipped up some light pastries and desserts from leftover ingredients. Even some strawberries and grapes. Whilst everything was miniscule from lack of provisions, it tasted good enough. 

Dipping the sweet red fruit from the cream and sugar and between your lips, Jean is in heaven. Your hair being pushed by the wind away from your face, the rosiness on your cheeks. The world may end tomorrow, but tonight he’s got all he needs.

His hands reach over, noticing the drip of cream collecting on the corner of your lips. Swiping his thumb along your cheek, he notes “you’ve got a lil..”

Jean looks at you, his eyes locking on yours, still gently cupping your face in his hands. Warm pupils flick down. His brows scrunch together for a moment, before he moves forward. His other hand comes up to your face, and he is so gentle when he kisses you. It’s as if he may break you if he goes too far.

The soft plush of his lips on yours, slowly pulling you in is intoxicating. He leans back on his forearms, pulling you over him, not letting you leave his mouth. You knock into his hat, it flopping off behind him as you lower your chest over his.

A hand reaches to his chestnut hair. It’s grown long over the last few years. You play with tendrils, the two of you lazily kissing. It’s soft and easy. You’re breathing into one another your chest resting on his as you move a leg to intertwine with his. 

Shifting yourself slightly, you rest directly above his thigh. Jeans hand comes to the back of your neck, making sure you don’t split the contact he so desperately needs. Your nails slide softly against his scalp, twisting into his hair with more want. 

The man, your man, underneath you curls forward, leg lifting and chest pushing up into you. Your crotch bumps against his thigh. A delightful little gasp erupts from you. If Jean wasn’t tongue deep in your mouth he could have even missed it. But he is, and he didn’t. 

He’s tempted to see how far he can take this, maybe make another first here. You’ve had sex, and plenty of it. Although for the most part it’s been rushed, the nature of your jobs only allowing for quickies. You both lived in shared rooms, and the lack of privacy was definitely a roadblock in his attempts to please you.

This clearing, in the outside meadows by headquarters, is maybe an ironic place for the privacy you both so need. Putting any doubt out of his mind, Jean lifts his muscular thigh, achieving another gasp into his mouth from you. You grind against it slowly, tentatively.

“No need to be shy, baby girl” he smiles into the kiss.

Cheeks rosy, you roll your hips along his leg. Jeans body rises further, leaning back casually on one hand, the other gripping the flesh between your waist and hip. He breaks the kiss that has been going on so long, wanting to take in all the ways your face displays pleasure. 

Your eyebrows knit together slightly. Your lips are wet with saliva, slightly parted as you give off little mewls each time your clothed cunt is brushed along his cotton pants. 

There’s a sweet and tender feeling building in your lower stomach. You can feel how wet you’re getting, the slow and methodical undulations generating a heat between your thighs. 

“Jean, plea-”

“You want more?” he’s quick to answer. Your head jumps and up and down, past the point of playing shy. 

His long fingers meet with your jaw once more, lightly skimming your features. He’s noting it all down in his head. Maybe he’ll even make a drawing of you. You pause in your ministrations, and a low tutting comes from the man. “No, no. Keep riding. Get yourself ready.” 

A delicious smile emerges on your face, and you bear down on his thigh. You take your hands on each leg, gripping onto the thickly built muscle underneath the cloth. A couple of fingers miss their mark, and you can feel how hard Jean is getting. Eyes flash between his crotch and his face, and he can sense how eager you are to please him. 

His touch moves from your jaw down, one finger slowly running along the centre of your throat. Jeans hand dips, slowly dragging his fingernails across each collar bone, down to the valley of your chest. Your breath hitches, and he moves away again. You shift your hand in response, moving it towards the joint between his thigh and pelvis, allowing your fingers to brush his clothed balls.

Wherever his fingers move leaves a tingling in their wake. They push towards your shoulder, teasing the fabric from each one. Your dress pools a little, allowing him to make his way back, this time taking your breast in his hand. Thumb brushes against your puffy buds, and a finger meets it to squeeze lightly.

Jean fully lifts off the blanket, sat up straight. He makes quick work of your dress, pulling it down and pushing it up. He grabs at your legs, going between light caresses and tight grasps, not knowing which to settle with. Finally he finds purchase in your ass, guiding you back and forth over his thigh.

You moan into his mouth, fully succumbing to the wetness surely dampening through your panties, the feeling of his fingers twisting and teasing your pert nipples. He raises his fingers from your chest, using his thumb on your lower lip to apply gentle pressure. 

Breaking the trail of saliva that connects you both, he pushes an index finger between your lips. You’re all too eager to suck on it, eyes looking dutifully at him. He inhales sharply between his teeth. His cock is so hard, so desperate to fuck into you. Jean wants it to be slow and beautiful, but he simply needs to have you. He wants you close to him before he leaves and doesn’t know if he’ll come back. And close means being inside you, hearing you in your purest form. 

The dusky pink settling on his cheeks could be the sun, low in the sky, filling the meadow with rich hues. 

Your moans could not be interpreted so wholesomely.

Fingers wet with your spit, he moves his hand between your legs, under the skirt. Pushing your panties to the side he lets you ride his palm for a moment. Teasing yourself, teasing your clit on his strong hand. He goes deeper, fingers sliding through your folds. He slips through your folds, resting at your entrance, before allowing your hips to rise and him to push knuckle deep inside you.

You reddened lips form a perfect ‘o’, and the bliss on your face is one he will remember forever. His thumb moves to your clit. Still on top of him, Jean watches you fuck yourself on his fingers. He kisses your neck, your chest. Taking your nipples and sucking, biting, nibbling. 

Your walls are closing in on him, before gently relaxing and he can tell you’re close. 

“Don’t be shy” Jean reissues his earlier statement. But now it’s far huskier, far more commanding. “I want to hear you, y/n. I want to hear you cum.” 

You’re watching his face, the words - orders - tumble from his lips. They make you flutter around his fingers. You murmur out tiny please’s. 

“What did I say? Louder, y/n.”

You moan against his neck, “please.”

Jean pulls your hair, making you extend your neck, forcing you to look up to the hues of pink and orange. “Louder.”

You’re so close. “Jean, p- please!” 

“Good girl.”

With that he’s flicking his thumb over your clit, fucking his fingers up into your cunt. The sounds of liquid and wetness only add to the noises of you cumming. Pussy clenching around his fingers, hips giving way and as your legs start to burn and shake. Jean holds you up, working you through your orgasm. He wants nothing more than to watch you fall apart, moaning his name. And then whining curses as you become oversensitive. Yet your gummy walls still suck him in, begging for more.

Leaving your tight walls, he brings the fingers to his lips. You taste tarte and sweet. Better than strawberries any day.

Your breaths are heavy as he twists the two of you, resting you with your back on the blanket. You are radiant. A green halo of grass above you, the dusting of pink on your cheeks, your lips kiss-swollen.

Jean pushes your skirt up, eyes trained on yours as you rest on your elbows. Your eyes follow his movements. How his tongue wets his lips before he drags them on your inner thigh. How his fingers dig in to pull you closer towards him. 

He pulls off your sodden panties, kissing into your hips, your belly. Jean is slow and deliberate. As much as he wants to be deep within you, he’s never had the chance to enjoy you this slowly before. 

He rises, kissing your breasts as they spill from the top of your dress. His tongue paints saliva on your lips before slipping between them. The kiss is intense. It’s deep and sloppy and so needy. 

Your hand reaches to his shoulders, thumb slipping underneath his braces pulling them off. Hands slip under his shirt, and he quickly helps you pull it off. His muscles are firm and taught, the amount of work his body has been through over the years evident underneath your fingers. You trail fingertips over stripes of knotted flesh, kissing each mark and scar after your hands move onto the next one. 

“You’re beautiful, Jean”

Jeans cheeks go rosy and he smiles so bashfully that it breaks you apart. The lopsided grin makes you pull him back into you, teeth bumping together as you giggle into the kiss. 

He unbuttons his pants, pushing them far enough down his thighs to allow more friction as he grinds into you. Jean is noticeably straining his underwear, his member long and hard. You move your hand down to cup him, squeezing gently through the cotton. You tug on his cock, leaving him stuttering into your mouth. Holding him just tightly enough, he ruts his hips into your hand, little sighs escaping his mouth into your hair. 

Tucking your hand under the fabric, you pull out his dick. It makes your hand look smaller, Jean’s member long and hard. The pink tip is slick with precum, and your thumb brushes his head slightly, earning a little hiss. 

You go from light little touches to harsher ones. Fingers brushing against the veins on his length, before you wrap around him again. He’s whining in your ear, “you like playing with my cock? Seeing what you do to me?” 

With hooded eyelids you look at his contorting face and whisper “yes, yes. I want to please you, I want to make you feel good.” 

“Such a good girl for me.”

Taking his member, you push the tip against the heat between your legs. Teasing your clit with his head, he looks down to watch you work. Precum lightly sheens over your folds, and fuck, Jean can’t wait to add to it. 

“I w-want you so bad Jean.” 

“You have all of me.” 

You hold him against your entrance, the tip of him just resting at your little hole. Pulling him in a little, he pushes against the first tight ring. It’s always intense letting Jean fuck you, making you so full. You rock your hips up, letting him slip out a little, before grinding back down. It pulls him into you so sensually. He moans unashamedly as you control the pleasure you both receive. 

Repeating the action, you lift again, pushing him out, and again tightening your stomach muscles to curl and bring him deeper inside you. His golden eyes are trained on where you’re conjoined. 

He’s halfway inside you, stretching your tight walls so much already. Jean sits back, moving his tongue around inside his mouth before letting a ball of spit fall where his cock rests inside of you. Spreading it on his length, he helps you the rest of the way. Letting your eyes widen and gasp of surprise (how are you always surprised by the feeling?) as he fully sheaths himself inside you. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he holds himself above you, head falling back as he inhales slowly.

Jean allows you a moment to breath, before he pulls back out, quickly snapping his hips back to yours. Moans tumble out of your mouth as he fucks into you. Lashes fluttering and your tits bouncing in rhythm, you are a sight for the sorest of eyes.

“You’re so pretty for me, all splayed out on my cock.” 

He pushes your legs apart, watching his length disappear inside you. Watching how one hand twists your own nipple, the other feebly trying to grab onto his wrist. He’s splitting you apart on his dick, the feeling of being so fucking full taking over. You were already sensitive from your last orgasm, but he builds another, the tightening in your core unmistakable. 

“J- Jean,” you hiccup, so overwhelmed by him. “You’re s- so big” 

“You’re taking me so well, y/n.” 

He lowers himself against your chest, bringing his knees upwards and closer to your ass. You curl up around him, holding your legs further up. Jean quickly renegotiates the position, pulling your legs around him whilst you hold under your knees. You can feel him so deep inside you this way, pulled into a ball underneath him. Jean wants to be impossibly close, and this new angle is punishing on your pussy. He can feel how wet you are between you, how much you enjoy the intensity of his cock working in and out. 

His forehead presses against yours, his hand snaking between you two. From his new angle, he can hit that sweet spot inside you so easily. His length sweeps against it, and hits into your furthest wall. He lets out curses as he feels your cunt tighten each time, mixing with the moans and mewls from you. You lock eyes with him, big doe eyes pricking. 

“Pl- please, I’m so close, Jean.”

Fat tears roll over your cheek, trailing to your temple. Everything feels too much. Him inside of you, the wet squelching between you. His strong fingers rubbing over your clit again and again. You let out a sob, followed by a moan. It’s a combination of knowing this is the last night, feeling how fucking intense his cock is inside you, hearing how much Jean needs you. He kisses your cheeks, tasting the salt, not faltering as he continues to pummel into you. 

“You’re doing so good, baby.”

His balls slap against your skin. 

“You can do it.” 

His teeth bite at the flesh of your breast, pull at your nipples.

“I want to hear you.”

His fingers play and roll with your clit, feeling the way you tighten around his cock.

“Please cum for me, y/n.”

Your back arches off the blanket, the night sky soaking up the moans. The lewd noises in between you both are all consuming, the slap of slick and wetness only adding to your full body sensation. 

His fingers keep moving on your clit, and Jean grunts each time your pussy spasms around his cock. He keeps pace, fucking you raw and with need. He loves to see your delicate face scrunched up, eyes rolling back and mouth unable to close. 

And with the tightening of your walls around him, Jean’s close. “Where do you want me?” 

“I want,” you inhale sharply, as his cock drives back into you, “you inside me- I- I need you Jean. Please.”

“You’re so good, baby, you’re so good.” He’s getting quicker, making you writhe beneath him in your overstimulated state. “I’ll give you what you want, okay? I’m going to cum inside your pretty pussy.” 

Jeans fingers are going to bruise you. He's holding onto you so tight, never wanting to let you go. It’ll be something to remember him by. Movements are starting to stammer, the sweat evident by the sheen forming across his shoulders and face. You tuck a tendril of his honey hair behind his ear. “I love you”, you whisper amongst the moans. And with that he pushes deep enough to make you cry out, feeling the hot ropes of cum painting your walls. 

Your man rests inside you for a moment, gathering his breath as he leaves languid kisses against your breasts, your jaw, your lips. He pulls out, seeing his cum drip from your pussy. Using his fingers he pushes the white around your folds, earning a sharp his when he brushes past your clit. Finally, he brings his fingers to your lips, and you put out a delicate tongue. 

Cleaning him with your mouth, he sits back, sighing softly. How can you be this good? And you like him? Jean thinks he is the luckiest man on earth. He adjusts your dress for comfortability, before dipping next to you. Your heads are lightly touching, your hair intertwined with his. Staring up at the sky as the last colour leaves it in its inkiness, he holds you close. He presses his final kiss on your forehead. 

“I love you too.” 

[hotjellycow]

𝙸𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚈𝚊𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝚡 𝚂𝙼𝚁

𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝙰𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚊

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚌𝚘𝚠 𝙸𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚊, 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚢 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚔, feminization, 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗?, 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒v𝚎 𝙸𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚊

(Y/n) waited outside his boyfriends agency building after he had gotten a strange hastily written message from Inasa asking him to pick him up quickly.

It was certainly strange, his lover had never left worked this early even when he was ill he still went to work despite (Y/n)'s warnings so it was strange when he suddenly asked (Y/n) to pick him up.

Inasa hadn't been feeling sick before work so it couldn't have been that, though it did make him worry thinking maybe Inasa had gotten hurt during work but then again wouldn't he have gone to the hospital or at least call you?

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your car door open and saw Inasa quickly get into the passenger seat but what was strange was that he was wearing a hood over his head and a blanket over his body.

You noticed his hands were crossed over his chest area tightly making you slightly confused. "Inasa are you ok?" You asked noticing his also red face and sweat dripping down his face along with his deep heavy breaths, "I'm fine can we go home please," he asked his voice uncharacteristically low almost a whisper.

"Are you sure?" You asked again getting worried, "Ill tell you later can we please go home," he asked louder, you decided to stop prodding and just started the car and drove home.

~~~

When you opened the house door Inasa immediately ran past you and into your bedroom where he locked himself inside the bathroom. You locked the front door again and folwed him quickly, you stood in front of the restroom door putting your habd on the knob and trying to open it but alas it was locked. You knocked on the door jiggling the knob again, "Baby are you ok? Whats going on?" You asked ready to kick the door down if you needed to, "Just give me a minute!"

Inasa yelled from inside the bathroom though he sounded out of breath.

You decided to just wait on the bed for him to get out but that didn't stop your worries.

Was he hurt? Did something happen during a villain attack? All these thoughts hurt your head. You heard the door creaking slowly open making you snap your head up seeing Inasa standing in front of the doorway with a blanket over his body and a hood over his head.

You stand up quickly walking in front of his larger form, "Darling what happened?

Is everything alright?" You asked putting your hand on his shoulder. He nodded letting out a shaky, "I'm ok but i um got hit by a q-quirk today," he mumbled, "What, well what is it?!"

You asked, your boyfriend slowly pulled his hood down revealing to you two white and black spotted cow ears along with small black cow horns on the top of his head.

Your jaw literally dropped when you sat it, "What the fuck," you said shocked, "What happened?!" You asked. "I got into a fight and one of them hit me with their quirk turning me into... this" Inasa said pointing to his head. "Well shouldn't we go back to the agency to fix this or go to the hospital," you asked frantically about to get your keys and drive to the hospital to figure out what the heck was going on.

But before you could go Inasa grabbed your arm, "Wait!"

He suddenly shouted one of his hands still over his chest as his other gripped your arm tightly, "There's um something else..." he said looking away from your gaze shyly, "Well what is it?" you asked wondering what else could have possibly happened.

He kept looking away as he spoke, "Just don't be weirded out please," he whispered struggling to find the right words to say.

You just nodded hesitantly not sure what he was doing, Inasa took a deep heavy breath as he slowly removed his hands from his chest and removed the blanket over his body revealing his black shirt with two wet spot right around where his nipples were. You were certainly confused not sure what and how he got those wet spots.

"Whats that?" you asked not too sure what was going on there, Inasa hesitantly lifted the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head which revealed his two large pectorals leaking some sort of white creamy substance from his very red looking nipples.

"W-what?" you asked not knowing what to say in this situation.

It was so strange to you, you could see how embarrassed Inasa was showing you, his face was red as small tears was apparent in the corner of his eyes.

His breath was getting heavier as sweat dripped form his face, his eyes squeezed shut not wanting to look at your face right now. "(Y/n) it hurts, I don't know what to do," he breathed out some tears from humiliation and pain, it wasn't regular pain though.

He felt so sensitive, every touch to his chest made him whimper, he was too embarrassed to tell anyone and he was definitely too embarrassed to consult a doctor about this. What was he supposed to say? He was hit my a horny quirk that made him moan with every touch? Fuck that.

He thought since you were his lover that maybe you could help him.

You reached your hand out to touch it, just curious as to how this was happening, when you pushed your hand onto his soft chest the liquid immediately squirted out of his nipple getting on your shirt.

A loud strangled moan coming out of Inasas mouth as he grabbed your hand giving it good squeeze, he pushed your hand away from him embarrassed at the noise he made.

"I'm sorry," he said hiding his face away from you, "Baby is that why you don't want to go to the doctor," you asked sympathetically, you knew how red faced and embarrassed he was right now and you didn't want to make it worse.

He just nodded his head tears pouring down his face from all the shame he was feeling in that moment.

You reached your hand out taking his in yours pulling his face to look at you, "Its ok baby maybe I can help, only if you want me to," you offered wiping away the tears on his face with your thumb, smiling softly at Inasas sniffling, he looked into your eyes and nodded, "please," he whispered. You nodded pulling him to the bed, you sat him down on the bed and left to the restroom bringing back some towels knowing things would most likely get messy.

You laid them around the bed before sitting yourself down on the bed taking off your pants, you patted your lap beckoning Inasa to sit on it.

He removed his pants leaving his boxers on only and hesitantly making himself comfortable on your lap placing his hands on your shoulders, you removed your shirt knowing it would get dirty.

"I'll try my best to help you" you reassured him bringing him in for a gentle kiss, he closed his eyes deciding to put his trust in you.

You pulled away slowly rubbing his hips as you moved your hand to his chest, you tried not to press too much knowing he was very sensitive.

You put your hand over his chest and massaged it slowly, "(Y/n) hah~" he moaned putting his palm over your hand pushing you hand harder on his chest, you pressed his nipple in between your finger squeezing it harder this time causing a loud moan to erupt from his mouth.

Inasa bit down on his lip trying to keep his volume down as much as he could, you gave his tit a god squeeze making his nipples to spurt out out the liquid.

You leaned your face close to his nipple, sticking out your tongue you swirled it around his red bud before taking it int your mouth, "A-Aah shit~" he moaned loudly gripping onto your hair tightly. You sucked harder on his tits causing the liquid to fill into your mouth, surprised you pulled away breathless.

You smacked your lips drinking some of the liquid, surprisingly it tasted like milk but sweeter, almost addicting.

You latched onto his nipple again sucking on it more, the milk entering your mouth as you tried t drink as much as you could, some spilled from the sides of mouth letting it drip on your chest.

"Yes yes! Ngh~" Inasa moaned pushing himself against your warm mouth, relief filling his body as his sensitivity heightened his body trembling as he suddenly came in his boxers leaving a wet spot on his boxers. You continued your actions removing your hand from his tit and moving it to his boxer where you pulled them down, taking a hold of his dick you jacked him off rubbing his cum and pre-cum covered tip with your thumb making it leak more pre-cum.

Inasa moved his hand over his mouth trying his best to keep his noises down but with everything you were doing he couldn't.

Looking up and seeing your lovers pleasured red face along with hearing his loud moans made you groan and cum in your boxers as well, fastening your movements you detached from his nipple and moved to his other sucking the milk filled pectoral.

You tried your best to keep your breathing study as you sucked in as much as you could.

You lifted your boyfriend up and pushed him down on the bed getting in between his legs, you pulled down his boxers along with yours as Inasa covered his face from you panting hard.

You leaned down to his dick licking around his tip before taking him in your mouth fully.

"Agh!~" he moaned feeling your hot mouth around him, you moved your hand up his body giving his boob a good squeeze feeling the milk squirt out and onto your hand. You pinched his nipple trying to get all that stored up milk out of him, Inasa thrusted into your mouth gently gripping your hair as his thick thighs wrapped around your head squeezing you. Tears continued to run down his face but this time from all the pleasure you were giving him, he sobbed into his mouth as he tugged on your hair.

You moved your free hand to wrap around his thigh massaging it gently, Inasa removed his hand from his mouth gripping onto the hand that was on his boob his other hand forcing your head down as his body spasmed, "Oh (y/n)! yes fuck fuck~fuckkk~!" he moaned cumming into your mouth.

His eyes crossed as his tongue hung out of his mouth, milk pouring from his tits as he orgasmed, hearing his moans and looking up to seeing his pleasured face made you cum.

Your cum landing on the bed as you drank the cum in your mouth.

"Ngh~" Inasa let out one last moan as he came down from his high nearly passing out but struggling to stay awake, you licked the tip of his dick before pulling away his thighs falling onto the bed his body weak.

You took a deep breath observing the big mess and the half awake Inasa laying there smiling at you, you smiled back leaning up and kissing his forehead. "I love you baby," you mumbled pecking his lips, Inasa smiled sweetly mumbling a small I love you too, "Come on let me clean you up baby," you mumbled lifting him up and bringing him to the bath.

You cleaned the bed up as you waited for the bath to fill up, you sat down in the large bathtub pulling Inasa to sit on your lap as you washed his cum and milk filled body.

He weakly kissed your cheek as you washed him, "Thank you," he whispered smiling.

You nodded kissing him again, looking up you noticed, "Hey the horns and ears are gone," you mentioned noticing they disappeared.

Inasa nodded closing his eyes, "You can sleep baby I'll get you cleaned up," you said making him nod and fall asleep on against your chest.

[lgbtqlegends]

hi i love ur hc they are awesome! could u maybe do like a ray & sara brotp soft friendship kind of thing? thanks!💜💜💜

thank you!! thanks for the ask n hope you enjoy!

-ok so they're both pretty big nerds, sara just usually doesn't like,, outwardly show it as much as ray tends to. they watch ancient aliens together and get so invested in the episodes that they'll lose track of time. they end up using the waverider to try n check a lot of the stuff. it doesn't always work but whenever it does work, if the stuff turns out to be real they're super smug about the knowledge that it's Real and then whenever they come across any skeptics or non-believers, they always end up just smirking like "haha you're w r o n g,,, it is r e a l". they get a kick out of it

-they also 100% take trips back to camelot together bc without the threat of the legion of doom, they can let themselves like,, fully enjoy it (well,, more so sara can enjoy it fully bc ray already enjoyed it fully even with the threat of the legion of doom,, but it's still always a great experience going back to camelot whenever they do

-also sara's S1 or S2 (i forget which) line of "i know science" makes me imagine that sara spends a fair amount of time in the lab with ray,,, at least,, whenever she can,, especially after like,, S1 with snart and kendra gone (bc those were the two she probably spent most time with on the ship when they were there),, so she ends up hanging out with ray more and they become really good buds

-also,,, adhd!sara + autistic!ray and/or autistic!sara + autistic!ray (both of which I've mentioned separately + briefly in a couple hc posts) is a vibe and so I'd imagine they'd kinda bond over that from time to time

-and it's also canon that sara loves supernatural, and ray seems like he'd also be someone who loves supernatural, so the two of them def watch it together n sometimes they're like,,, "alright let's binge watch all of it". they also sometimes get into "heated" (not really heated,, just,, very passionate) debates about which characters are hotter

-since they were both from star city before they were legends, i think sometimes they'd go and visit together like,,, go n see everyone from team arrow n visit all their old favorite places n stuff. one time they run into quentin and he's surprised to see them since they're usually on the waverider. they end up going to that little chinese restaurant that sara and quentin go to sometimes. ray is a little bit awkward (bc he's ray). quentin's a little confused and he thinks they might be dating but he's not sure so he asks and they're both just like "no no,, no,, just friends" (sara) and "nope! just buddies!" (ray). they all laugh it off and continue lunch for a bit until quentin has to get back to work or smth n they have to get back to the waverider

-oh and it's also canon that they go to trivia nights together sometimes, so they do that whenever they can too (and it gives them another chance to visit star city more, so they take it)

-they're also both pretty affectionate people (ray being a little more open with it n sara reserving it for only people she trusts) so there's like,, the casual affection between them like,, hugs and hair ruffles and like,,, light arm punches when they tease each other. like they're just v close friends n maybe even a dash of like,, little brother/big sister relationship (despite ray being older,, it's fine lmao they don't mention it. time travel n all that)

-they're also both very observant n perceptive and they can both kinda tell if the other is having a bad day or just,, isn't feeling great or smth. they don't necessarily like,, bring it up, at least like,, not directly, but they're both There. like,, ray will usually like,, give sara's shoulder a little squeeze or smth like,, in passing or smth,, sara usually will like,, offer to listen if ray wants to talk (abt anything) or she'll like,, reach up n ruffle his hair or smth,,, just little things to let the other know they're there without making each confront anything unless they want to

-oh ok and also like,,, back to the adhd!sara + autistic!ray and/or autistic!sara + autistic!ray,,, whenever it's like,, bad days or days where they're struggling with sensory overload (either one or both of them),, sometimes they'll like,,, chill together in the lab or like in the library or captains office or smth like with the lights turned down. they don't talk or anything bc conversation would be too hard, but it's nice to just chill together in the quiet bc they both understand n that helps a little bit

[lloydskywalkers]

skywalker syndrome, pt. II

*sweats nervously* this is...so long. This is so, so long and it’s not even the last part, but i just have a loT OF FEELINGS about it okay T-T 

Anyways! here is the continuation of my extensively angsty, s9-Lloyd-loses-an-arm-AU that i posted about a year ago, now featuring four whole over-concerned siblings who are finally back in the same realm. 

The funny thing about life as a ninja extraordinaire, is that there are certain things that you can totally suppress, and never deal with ever. Like, they might still be there, lurking in the dark corners of your mind like vaguely threatening mold or something, and sure, one of these days they could blossom into actual issues, and then threaten to destabilize whatever’s left of your emotional stability, but you can at least ignore them for a while. And if you’re Lloyd —which he is — you can get really good at ignoring them, to the point where you almost forget they’re there half the time. Bam, problems solved.

But as it turns out, unfortunately, there are also some things that you just can’t.

One of those, even more unfortunately, happens to be losing, say, an entire limb. And to top off the entire stack of unfortunateness — the unfortunatetest — most unfortunate? — part about the whole thing: Lloyd currently happens to fall into the second category.

(Will always fall into the second category, he doesn’t know why he’s saying currently, it’s not like his arm is gonna grow back—)

Anyways. Lloyd has finally met an issue that he can’t ignore, and that’s…another issue, he guesses. Oh, he’s tried, but walking off a lost arm is just a lot more difficult than ignoring trauma, or a broken rib or something.

“But I mean, it also could have been a leg, and then I’d have real trouble walking it off, haha, get it?”

“There are so many concerning things in that essay’s worth of words you just threw at me, I don’t even know where to start,” Nya sighs.

“Aw, c’mon,” Lloyd nudges her shoulder with his fist from where he sits in the battle wagon next to her, metal fingers clanking oddly against her shoulder armor. “That wasn’t even my worst pun.”

“That’s not what I’m referring to, and you know it,” Nya side-eyes him. Then, after a beat— “And that one was low-hanging fruit. I know you can do better.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll come up with something better when we’re not running on zero hours of sleep,” Lloyd yawns, propping his elbows up on the dashboard and leaning against them, scrubbing at his eyes. He flinches back at the cold of his metal hand, and scowls at it instead, as if its inability to create heat like a normal limb is a personal insult. He lets it fall limp against the dashboard with a dull clank, laying his normal, warm human arm on top, and using that as a pillow.

He then squeezes his eyes shut, enjoying the brief relief from the thundering headache he’s had the last few days, before screwing them back open. Nya is staring at him fully now, face pinched in concern. Lloyd thinks that’s rather unfair, because her eyes are every bit as bloodshot as his, and he’s definitely caught her wincing from a headache of her own like, six times today already.

“Lloyd.”

“What.”

Nya sighs again — she’s been doing that a lot lately — and finally takes her hands off the wheel, leaning back in her seat, pulling her leg up and wrapping her arm around her knee. “You can’t do that.”

“Do what?” Lloyd says petulantly, knowing full well what she’s talking about.

Nya knows too, because she gives him a look. “Ignore that kind of stuff,” she says, waving a hand absently in the air. “Trauma, and whatnot.”

“I’m not ignoring my trauma,” Lloyd rolls his eyes, because they’ve had this conversation a minimum of sixty times now, so he’s ready for it. “I’m just waiting until I have a thing of ice cream big enough to cry it all out over.”

He’s probably going to need an entire ice cream parlor at this point, he muses—

“I’m serious, Lloyd.”

“Uh-huh,” he mutters, burying his face in his arms. “Sure. You wanna talk about Nadakhan while we’re at it, then?”

Nya sucks in a breath, and Lloyd feels a hot flash of guilt for having brought it up.

But like — it’s true. If he’s gotta sort out his issues, then Nya needs to, as well. Fair’s fair, and she needs someone looking out for her. Even if Lloyd’s been doing a pretty terrible job of it lately.

“Sorry,” he murmurs anyways.

Nya presses her lips together, then shakes her head. Her eyes are far away, staring out across the ruined city through the windshield. “No,” she says, her voice a whisper. “No, you’re right. I — you’re right.”

“Well, I’m sorry for that, too.”

Because he wishes he wasn’t right. He’d love to be wrong, about this. He’d love it if they were all just fine, and the guys were back and cracking jokes with them, and Nya had never died after being nearly forced into some twisted marriage, and the city wasn’t crumbling down around them because his sort-of-ex brought back his dead dad, and Lloyd still had both whole arms, and they were all drinking like, strawberry lemonade on the beach right now or something.

“We’re a real mess, huh,” Nya says, and there’s a sniffled edge in her voice that Lloyd doesn’t like.

Lloyd bites his lip, then reaches out, uncurling her fingers from where they’ve gone white around the steering wheel, and squeezing her hand lightly instead. “Kai would say we’re hot messes, though.”

Nya snorts, squeezing his hand back, ad Lloyd feels a bubble of warmth at her smile. They sit there in silence for a bit, watching the smokey clouds drift past above, waiting on Pixal or Skylor to finally call in on the radio, and tell them they can move out already.

Lloyd’s just considering trying for another nap, when Nya speaks up again.

“Really through. Lloyd, we gotta talk it all out eventually. You don’t wanna end up all emotionally suppressed, like your uncle, do you?”

Lloyd sputters, then glares at her. “You take that back. I’m not gonna end up like Uncle Wu.”

“Oh yeah? Just wait, any day now you’re gonna walk in on us, with a big straw hat on, and say ‘terribly sorry, my loyal ninja, but there’s something I haven’t told you’—“

Lloyd throws his mask at her, even as he breaks into snickers at the deep-toned voice she’s using. “I am not!”

“—you’ll have a beard, too,” Nya continues, grinning. “Like, ten feet long—“

“Ten, please, have you seen my hair? I bet I can do twenty—“

“Oh yeah, Rapunzel? What’cha gonna do then, trip over it into your enemies?”

“No, I’m — I’m gonna strangle them with it.”

That mental image is the final straw for Nya, and she doubles over in loud cackling, stuffing her fist against her mouth to try and silence her laughter. Lloyd’s already dissolved into giggles, but his attempt to keep them quiet sounds a whole lot more like rheumatic wheezing, which only makes them laugh harder.

“Please,” Nya breathes, when they’ve finally wound down. “Never grow a beard.”

“I dunno,” Lloyd says, stroking his chin, in what he hopes looks like an accurate impression of Uncle Wu. “I think I got the face for it—”

“You don’t.”

“Ouch, right in the heart.”

“It’s for your own good, bud.”

“We’ll see what Kai says.”

“He’s gonna agree with me, and you know it.”

“Hmph.”

“…and Lloyd?”

“Hm?”

“ ‘Unfortunatetest’ isn’t a word.”

“You aren’t a word.”

The other funny thing about life, though, is that no matter how miserable it gets, it’s always bearable with Nya.

************************

Which is probably why Lloyd doesn’t really start to crack until Nya goes down.

“Oh no — oh no, Nya, you’re okay, you’re fine, you’re all good, just — you’re okay—”

“I’m fine, stop telling me what I already know,” Nya gets out, through gritted teeth against the pain. She couldn’t be more clearly not fine, but between the two of them, they seem to believe that if they can say it’s fine enough, it’ll all work out. It’ll be just fine. Nya just had a car fall on her and probably shattered her arm but it’s — it’s fine, she hasn’t lost it yet, and if it comes down to it, she can have his other arm, because Nya is not losing a limb today.

Between him and Dareth, they finally manage to get the car — the entire car, Lloyd is losing the battle to panic by the second — off Nya, and Lloyd’s right back at her side to worry more. Nya shrugs him off, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain as she struggles to rise, wobbling in place.  

But she still pushes herself up, on her feet, and picks up her spear with her good arm, and Lloyd decides for like, the tenth time this week, that Nya is the strongest person he knows. Right up there with Skylor, who’s actually insane, as it turns out, holding off an entire Colossi with his father’s stolen power — Skylor’s incredible.

But Skylor’s also currently unconscious in the battle wagon, and now Nya’s in severe pain and down an arm, and she doesn’t have a handy — aha —replacement like Lloyd does. And Pixal’s in Kryptarium so all that’s left of the ninja is Lloyd, and Dareth looking to him for answers, and Lloyd should be used to this, he’s leader, he could practically write the book on being in desperate, all-consuming-panic situations like this, but—

Harumi’s dead. Lloyd’s powers are gone, and people are dying now. Because of his dad, because of this stupid vengeance spree, because of him.

Lloyd’s eyes smart painfully, and he tightens his grip on Nya’s good arm, wondering, not for the first time, how in the world it had all come to this.

“We need to — we need to—” Nya cuts off, biting the inside of her cheek. Her composure falters, and Lloyd can see the same hopeless sort of exhaustion in her eyes, the weeks of running on fumes taking their toll. They need to get moving, they need to regroup, but there’s no one to regroup with. It’s just them, Lloyd and Nya, and they might be able to function independently better than anyone else but they’re also chronic younger siblings. The reminder that they’re not supposed to be alone is driven so deeply into their heads that it’s not even annoying anymore.

Not when they’re so very, very alone now.

“We can fall back,” Lloyd suggests, his voice wavering. “We can—” He swallows. Hide feels cowardly, but even he knows it’d be useless to suggest, anyways. They’ve run out of hiding places from Garmadon. He’d find them, Lloyd knows he will. His father is a lot of things right now, and relentless is one of the stronger ones.

“We can move, at least,” Dareth says, panic tinging his voice. “Those Sons of Garmadon will be on us any minute.”

It’s not Dareth’s fault, but it certainly feels a lot like karma as, at that very second, the sound of motorcycles echoes down the street, mixed with the familiar cries of the Sons of Garmadon.

They all go tense. Nya and Lloyd look at each other, and Lloyd wonders if the expression of fear on her face is mirrored on his, or if he looks closer to terror.

Either way, he’s frozen in place, and that’s bad, because they’re all frozen now. Maybe this is it. Maybe they’ve finally run out of the will to keep going. Maybe this is for the better. At least it’s not his father.

But then he remembers that they’ll probably take him to his father anyways, and if Lloyd didn’t have terror on his face before, he does now.

The loud roars of the motorcycles are circling now, and if Lloyd’s right, they’ve got barely a minute left before they’re surrounded. That’s not enough time to make it out. Not with everyone, not with the condition they’re in.

And Lloyd’s not about to leave anyone behind.

Nya sucks in a shaky breath, her face white from pain as her bad arm shifts. “Lloyd, do you — do you have any ideas?”

Lloyd stares up at the smoke rising above the city, his city, and the skin that meets his prosthetic throbs. His head does too, exhaustion mixed with pain mixed with dying adrenaline leaving him sick.

You’ve failed, Green Ninja. Your father won this round.

Like he does every round, Lloyd thinks bitterly. Morro had it right, back in Styx. He doesn’t deserve to be the Green Ninja. Not when he can’t win the fights that matter.

But he’s still Lloyd. He’s still Nya’s little brother, and even Garmadon can’t take that from him if he tried. So he shakes his head, croaking out, “Sorry, I’m stumped.”

It takes Nya a minute longer than usual, her eyes confused in her pale and dirt-stained face, but then—

She slumps against him, wheezing out what could be a laugh. “If that was an another arm pun, I swear—”

Lloyd tries to keep his face passively blank, but he can’t help the breathless huff of laughter that escapes. It very quickly threatens to turn into hyperventilating, so he cuts it off quickly. They all step closer to each other, forming a tight circle as the motorcycles roar into view, and Lloyd’s knuckles turn white with the fist he’s making.

He almost says I’m sorry, because it feels like what he should say right now, him and his whole sorry bloodline and everything that’s led to this. But Nya would probably hit him if he did that, and get that sad look on her face, so he doesn’t.

“This would be a really good time for the guys to get back,” Lloyd finally says instead, a bit hollowly. Nya gives him a weak smile that threatens to crack into despair as they’re surrounded, the blinding headlights from the Sons of Garmadon pinning them in place.

But maybe, just maybe, karma is on their side after all. Because, not half a second after Lloyd’s said those words, the sky opens up and roaring out from the bright portal, filthy and battered but alive, come the super late — like so late, for real, Lloyd’s gonna give them heck for this — rest of their family.

Lloyd doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see his big brother’s ridiculous, spiky head of hair in his whole entire life.

************************

In the euphoria of reuniting with the guys and his uncle, Lloyd kind of forgets that he’s lost an arm for a second. He also forgets that the last time the guys saw him, he might have been a half-dead mess on Mystaké’s kitchen table, but he also had both arms. So it’s probably not — not the best of welcome back surprises he could’ve offered.

But the thing is, Lloyd’s at least been thinking his arm looked fine now. Like, it’s obviously not his arm arm anymore, but it’s a whole lot better than the ugly empty space that was there. And Nya put the dragon on and everything, so he can look sick when he either defeats his father or dies horribly.

But for all that it looks fine, the guys’ faces still go ten shades of white when they finally catch sight of it.

Lloyd thinks that’s rather unfair, considering they just burst out of the sky on a bunch of dragons after having been presumed dead, but he’s not gonna pick now to argue with them.

“Wha — how — what — is that—” Kai, predictably, is the first to go to pieces, his eyes wide as dinner plates in his dirt-stained face, his fingers hovering shakily over the metal arm as if touching it will make it real.

“Your arm,” Jay informs him blankly, gaping at him. “It’s gone?”

Oh, Lloyd’s aware.

“Yeah, it’s uh, it’s gone,” he explains, quickly. Then, because he needs to see a different expression on their faces than horrified shock— “It’s — it’s pretty disarming, haha, right?”

Kai looks like he’s either going to combust on the spot or physically smack him.

In the end, he makes this heartbreaking kind of “oh Lloyd” at him before throwing his arms around him, then immediately jumping to the absolute worst conclusions possible.

“Was it your dad — it was your dad, right? Was it Harumi? It must’ve been your dad, oh I’ll kill him, I’ll slaughter him for you Lloyd, I swear to FSM—”

This is followed by a general meltdown of “if only I’d been here,” which spirals into self-blame pretty fast, which Lloyd neither wants nor needs to happen right now (nor thinks is accurate, what could any of them have done anyways), so he throws Nya a desperate look.

“Look, stuff happened, okay?” she says, shouldering her way between Lloyd and the guys, wincing as her wrapped arm pulls. “The city’s on fire and Lloyd’s down an arm, we dealt with it. Right now we need to focus, because Garmadon and the Colossi are still out there, so please tell me those dragons are going to help us out.”

Again, Nya is one of Lloyd’s favorite people in the entire universe.

This distracts them enough that they momentarily get off Lloyd’s back, though he has a feeling he’s either gonna have to answer two hundred questions later or find a really good hiding spot.

But that’s a problem for a different Lloyd to worry about, and this one needs to focus on his father. And the fact that his uncle now looks ten times younger and is, much more importantly, about to let him ride on his dragon.

Lloyd’s halfway to the dragon when Cole catches him. He doesn’t grab him or anything, just touches his arm gently, his eyes horribly sad. “Lloyd,” he murmurs.

Something in Lloyd’s chest twists. This isn’t how it’s supposed to work. How is he supposed to pretend he’s not sad when they’ve all got this look on their faces?

“It’s fine,” he blusters, with a smile that is only half-forced. Fortunately, he has this part rehearsed by now. “It’s not a big deal — it doesn’t even hurt or anything. Don’t worry about it.”

Cole looks like he has every single intention of worrying about it, because Cole is Cole, but Lloyd can’t even find it in himself to be annoyed because he’s missed them so, so much. Sure, he’s mad at himself for giving them something to immediately worry about the second they even get back to the realm, but Lloyd’s too happy to see them at all to mind that much.

Plus, there’s like, a fifty-fifty chance his father is about to kill him pretty soon anyways, so he tries to enjoy it while he can. He’s sure Uncle Wu will do his best, but unless he’s got something big up his sleeve — besides the, uh, age thing — Lloyd isn’t so sure.

Winning against Garmadon isn’t something he’s ever been particularly good at, even with both arms.

************************

Lloyd wins this round.

Somehow, somehow — bruised and bloodied and down an entire arm — he wins this one. It’s almost surreal, standing on top of Borg Tower, the wind whipping eerily around them as he stares down at his father, kneeling on the ground before him. His father, defeated. Lloyd didn’t have to break this time, he didn’t even have to bend. He defeated his father, without his powers, without any cursed venom fueling him, and without his arm.

Take that, you stupid snake.

Well — technically. Technically, he did defeat his father with his arm, because there are going to be some spectacular bruises on Garmadon where he got sucker-punched by a solid metal fist in the morning. But still.

Lloyd didn’t have to kill him. Not this time.

The relief that hits him is so dizzyingly crushing, he almost throws up.

But oh, it figures. The one time Lloyd can end things with his dad alive, and it’s the time his dad hates him.

But Lloyd knows a little too well that things could’ve ended a lot worse. He’s got his family back, his whole family, Kai and Jay and Cole and Zane and the people that have stuck through the worst of it with him, and that’s more than enough for Lloyd to be happy. He doesn’t die, they win back the city, and Kai only cries about it like three times, so honestly, it’s almost the best he could hope for. The worst part is out of the way now, so really — it should be smooth sailing from here. The guys are upset about the arm thing, obviously, but it’s not really that big a deal. Lloyd just has to convince them of that, which shouldn’t be a problem.

A piece of cake, compared to the last few weeks. Besides, he’s already been through the worst of it.

************************

As is his luck, Lloyd finds himself eating his words half a week later.

“First Master—“

Lloyd chokes back a curse, stumbling out from bed as quietly as he can, teeth clacking as he clenches them together to keep from making any more noise. The guys don’t move, still solidly asleep, but that’s going to change real quick if Lloyd starts cursing up a storm over his stupid arm.

He bumps into the doorway on the way out and almost screams, biting his lip hard instead and fleeing down the hallway. Ow, ow, ow. He must’ve rolled his shoulder into his sword sometime in the night, because that’s what it feels like, a horrible kind of deep ache that leaves him wanting to sever what’s left of his limb as he stumbles into the kitchen. At least then, there would be less to hurt.

Lloyd passes by the several large windows in the apartment they’ve been staying in, and his heart immediately sinks. It’s dark outside, but the city lights illuminate the growing clouds above, and he can spot the flash of lightning in the distance. If the slight buzz in his blood at the oncoming storm wasn’t enough to clue him in, the building pressure in the atmosphere certainly is.

And he used to like rain, Lloyd thinks miserably, leaning his head briefly against the wall.

There’s a distant roll of thunder, and something in his arm — his stump, there is no arm there to hurt, that should help — throbs, deep and aching. Lloyd squeezes his eyes shut, fighting back the budding tears of pain, and remembers his mission. They went shopping earlier, and he knows for a fact there’s pain killers somewhere in the kitchen. The promise of relief from the pain is enough to spur him from where he’s slumped against the wall, and he drags his feet down the rest of the hall, finally ducking into the kitchen, which is quiet and empty in the late-night hours.

Great. Now he’s just gotta find the stuff, and he can — well, he can try to go back to sleep. Maybe he’ll just watch cartoons instead, or stare blankly into oblivion, or something. His shoulder throbs again, and Lloyd forces himself to focus, blowing his breathe out. Right. Cole was the last one to take the meds, ‘cause he’s got all those nasty healing cuts. So if he was the one to put the bottle away last, that means it’s probably…on the…top shelf…

Lloyd carefully, quietly drowns the whine of despair in the back of his throat. He’d eat dirt before he admits he’s a shortie, but compared to Cole, everyone is, and Cole has a terrible habit of leaving all the meds on the highest shelf or cabinet possible when he’s done, which are always the ones Lloyd can’t reach. And right now, with the first drops of rain just starting to fleck on the windows, moving his arms anywhere above mid-waist sounds like death.

But sitting here with his arm on fire sounds even worse, so death it is.

Biting the bullet, Lloyd toes the handle on the drawer closest to the floor, bracing his good arm on the counter, and pushes himself up. He wobbles precariously, but he catches himself quickly, breathing out a huff of relief. Now comes the hard part. Gritting his teeth in determination, Lloyd swings his prosthetic arm up as quickly as he can, knocking against the uppermost cabinet and—

Lloyd’s vision blurs out as the pain in his shoulder decides to go nuclear, and he slips back down with a strangled choking sound, clutching the edge of his shoulder and desperately willing himself not to blast through the wall with his powers in agonized frustration. When the pain finally ebbs enough for him to think again, he slumps over the counter, bracing his good shoulder against it and letting the bad one hang loosely, where the pain pulses in and out like a heartbeat.

Like death, he thinks dully, hissing his breath out through his teeth. Right. Okay. He’ll just — take a nap on the counter then, until he can work himself back up to the cabinet.

Lloyd cracks an eye open, glaring hotly at the cabinet out of reach. Maybe if he like…rattles it? With his…leg, or something? He can do a pretty impressive high kick, if he tries. Anything not to move his stupid shoulders, because the pain radiating from the prosthetic port is — oh boy, it’s something.

…with hindsight, he should’ve been prepared for this. But still.

Lloyd kind of just….crashes on the counter, for as long as he can, but the pain finally gets bad enough that he’s willing to risk more for any kind of relief. Gritting his teeth again — his jaw is beginning to hurt — he squares his shoulders, instantly regretting the action as little lines of agony flare in his right side in tune with the thunder from outside. At that point, Lloyd’s brain finally decides it’s done with the situation on the whole, and he’s backing up to make a running jump for the cabinet, when—

“Who’s — stand down, I’ll blast you!”

Lloyd aborts his charge just in time to duck the bolt of lightning that flashes through the room with a yelp, sliding to the floor as his momentum sends him crashing into the lower drawers. His vision whites out for a good minute as he whacks his bad shoulder on the metal edge of a handle, and he might make some kind of muffled scream that sounds enough like him for Jay to recognize, because by the time it clears, Jay is staring at him with wide eyes, his face pale but clearly no longer registering Lloyd as a threat.

Still, just in case— “Don’t shoot,” Lloyd croaks out. “I’m unarmed.”

Jay’s expression spasms, but the crackle of electricity silences, and the blue light extinguishes as he lowers his hands. Lloyd notes the way they’re trembling, despite how hard Jay’s trying to stop it. “Lloyd, seriously,” he mutters, but he’s at Lloyd’s side in a beat, hovering anxiously.

“Are — are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd says, trying not to wince as he shoulder twinges. “I, uh, sorry if I scared you. I was just getting some water.”

Jay looks up to the cabinets, then back to Lloyd, where he’s yet to rise from the floor. He needs to get up already, because he’s got like, an image to keep here, but he’s also too scared that his stump of a limb is going to attempt murder again, and that’s keeping him pretty solidly rooted to the floor.

“You’re on the floor, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd shoots back, making a face. “Maybe I like it here.”

“Uh-huh.” Jay’s expression is narrow-eyed in skepticism, and Lloyd shrinks in on himself a bit. Still, though — the expression is better to see than the stark terror that had been written over Jay’s face when he’d walked in. The remnants of it are still there, if fading quick — Jay doesn’t look quite like Jay yet, bright and happy and quick on the uptake.

He looks tired, dark circles like bruises beneath his eyes, and his movements are slower than usual, as if perpetually lagging a step behind. Like he’s being dragged down by something, and it’s taking an extra amount of strength to fight it off that’d usually go toward bad jokes.

Which is sad, because Lloyd could really go for a bad joke right now. The atmosphere’s been heavy enough around their little apartment after everything, and it’s only worse now, with Lloyd curled up on the floor and Jay watching his arm with hollow eyes. And that’s not even talking about the actual atmosphere, which is currently trying to make Lloyd consider knocking himself out to escape the pain. Bad Jay jokes would be nice. Lloyd misses having something to laugh about.

But you know what, that’s quitter talk. Lloyd can make bad jokes, too.

“You uh, you wanna give me an arm up, here?” he says, grinning weakly at Jay. “Could really use a hand, if you get what I’m saying.”

“You — you’re terrible,” Jay sputters, but he cracks the edge of a smile, and Lloyd silently congratulates himself on that small victory.

“But you love me.”

It comes out too much of a question, and Lloyd bites his tongue. But Jay’s eyes soften as he pulls him up, and he’s gentle as he does it, so it barely hurts.

“Yeah, short stuff,” he says. “I do.”

And that’s — Lloyd swallows. That’s too much emotion for him to deal with in Jay’s voice right now, even if it is the kind of reassurance he clings to with a desperation these days.

“Short stuff,” he scowls instead. “You’re one to talk.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jay grins, a bit weaker than his usual one. “I grew a half an inch in the First Realm, bud. I’ve got you now.”

“No way,” Lloyd counters, squinting at him. “You look shorter, if anything. I’ve got you now.”

“I do not.” It’s Jay’s turn to scowl. “And please, the only height you’ve gained is your hair. Fluffing it up all crazy does not count.”

Lloyd snorts, despite himself. “My hair, you should see-ee—”

His voice abruptly pitches higher, strangling off mid-sentence as a fresh wave of bright pain sears through his shoulder, throbbing with the increased thudding of rain against the window. Lloyd almost bites his tongue in half as he dips forward, words momentarily lost as his teeth grind together.

Jay’s at his side in an instant. “It’s the storm, isn’t it,” he says, his eyes bright in concern. “Your arm is hurting extra.”

“T-technically, it’s not,” Lloyd breathes out. Words are back online again, that’s good. He exhales, shuddering. “S’just what’s left of it.”

Jay worries his lip, and then realization sparks in his eyes. “You were going for the top cabinet,” he says, slowly. Then— “Cole had the pain meds last, didn't he.”

Lloyd nods, his good hand clutching and un-clutching at his shoulder. Jay makes a sympathetic noise in his throat, then moves for the cabinet himself. He uses the same drawer handle as a step-up that Lloyd did, but he doesn’t wobble, snatching the bottle from the top shelf and stepping down neatly. Thunder shakes through the apartment, and Lloyd squeezes his eyes shut tight, barely conscious of the sound of running water. When he opens them, Jay is in front of him again, a glass of water and four larger pills held out.

“You look like you could use the extra,” he says, in explanation.

Lloyd nods gratefully, shoving the pills in his mouth before grabbing the glass and draining it. “Thanks,” he croaks out.

Jay nods, his eyes lingering on Lloyd’s prosthetic. He opens his mouth once, then closes it. Then opens it again, inhaling like he’s gonna say something, then shuts it again. Then again—

“Jay, spit it out.”

“CanIlookatit,” Jay blurts out, red immediately rising in his cheeks.

Lloyd blinks rapidly, trying to parse out the jumble of words. “Can you — huh?”

“Look at it,” Jay repeats, shifting awkwardly. “Your, uh, your arm? The prosthetic one, I mean. Just ‘cause I think I can help it! Help you, I think I can help you, ‘cause you kinda look like it’s hurting you, which would make sense, with the storm, and I might be able to — to help, if that’s not like, a problem with you — if it is that’s fine! I totally get it, I mean if my arm had got — was lost, I’d be—”

“J-Jay, slow — Jay,” Lloyd tries vainly to cut over him once, before succeeding the second time. Lloyd gives him a weak smile, then flops his arm out. He immediately regrets the action, as it feels like he’s shoved a knife or two into his arm. “It’s — ow — fine. You can look at it.”

“Oh! Cool,” Jay says, deflating in relief. “Ah, thanks for trusting me?”

Lloyd waves him off, with his good arm his time. “There’s like, six people left I trust, but I trust ‘em with my life. You’re one of them.”

“Oh,” Jay repeats, but he sounds sad this time. A little too understanding, too, and Lloyd wonders if their entire team isn’t suffering similar issues with putting faith in people, after everything.

“Here,” Jay says firmly, as if shaking that sobering thought off. He points to the couch, eyeing Lloyd as he winces with the thunder again. “Wanna lie down, so I can look at it?”

“Sure,” Lloyd mutters, flopping down on the couch (and immediately regretting the action, again, you’d think he’d learn by now), lying with his head at the left end so he can spread his prosthetic out on the edge of the cushioned footrest. Jay steps over, carefully sitting down on the floor by him, hands hovering hesitantly over the arm.

…his arm. His arm, just a bit different.

“I like the design here,” Jay says quietly, his fingers ghosting over the engraving Nya had put on one quieter day during the Resistance. It’s in the shape of a dragon, like the one of his other spare prosthetic, but this one is a little subtler, almost sketched into the metal. “It’s cool.”

“Nya did it,” Lloyd says. “And you can touch it, if you want.”

“Oh — yeah,” Jay gives a nervous laugh. “Um. Could I, like, see where it…attaches?”

Lloyd blinks, glancing to where the sleeves of his too-big (Kai’s) t-shirt fall well over where the metal arm meets his stump. He swallows, then nods, carefully rolling back the fabric until his shoulder’s exposed. “That good?”

Jay, to his credit, just gives a quiet, hissing little intake of breath, and nods. And it really is to his credit, because while Pixal did all she could, the surgery was — well, Lloyd was in and out during it, but it was haphazard at best, and the scarring it left all up to his shoulder is…

It’s not pretty. And Lloyd’s been thinking he doesn’t mind, but now that he actually has someone looking at it, he’s realizing he might.

Time to invest in a lot more long sleeves, he thinks dully.

Jay’s frozen for a second, and Lloyd bites his lip, trying not to squirm as he stares openly at the scarring. Then he shakes his head, bright eyes gaining the steady determination Lloyd knows, and sets to work, fingers carefully skimming one of the compartment edges.

“Lemme know if anything hurts.”

Lloyd just nods. It’s weird, at first, feeling but not really feeling as Jay fiddles with the arm. He still doesn’t like not being able to truly feel stuff with it, but right now, with the pulsing pain still lingering from the storm outside, he’s almost glad for it. To the point where the idea of feeling anything else in what’s left of his poor arm almost has him flinching away from Jay.

Jay’s fingers are careful, though, and he finally clicks something in the arm into place that shifts the whole thing, the throbbing pressure on a few particular nerves in Lloyd’s arm letting up some, and his shoulders go loose in relief, the tight rigidness he’s been holding them in easing off.

“Oh,” he exhales in relief, a bit shakily as he sits up. “That’s better. That — thank you. That’s a lot better.”

Jay beams, clearly pleased with himself. “No problem, green machine,” he says. “Just glad I can help. I mean, Nya did a great job with it, but the uh — the wires right here, you see? Those can get twisted up if you move around a lot, and that’ll create pressure on the nerves, and then you’ve got the gears here, and…”

Lloyd quickly loses track of Jay’s technical babble, nodding along like he understands instead. His brother’s stream of chatter is a nice sound against the rain in the background, warm and familiar, and Lloyd slowly relaxes further, his shoulders crying in relief as they lose their tension. The meds are kicking in now too, and the pain’s ebbed into something a lot easier to manage. Enough for Lloyd to start feeling guilty, anyways.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” he finally says, after Jay’s wound down from his explanation, ducking his head.  

Jay waves him off. “I was already up, anyways,” he shrugs. “The storm woke me. They…they do that a lot.”

Lightning flashes, as if to echo his statement, and Lloyd notices the twitch that runs through Jay this time, how he almost seems to vibrate with the thunder that follows.

“Does it bother you?” he asks, a little hesitantly. “The storm?”

It feels like a silly question, because Jay can practically create storms, he thrives in them, Lloyd’s seem him straight-up catch a lightning bolt in his hand and chuck it like a baseball without breaking a sweat. But even though Lloyd's definitely not the ninja of lightning, it is the element he found easiest to wield, when he’d had all four, and he remembers the way the connection would buzz at him.

Jay bites his lip, his fingers tapping some vaguely familiar beat on the table as he fidgets, turning the question over in his head.

“It’s — I feel it under my skin, you know?” he finally says, bouncing a bit in agitation. “I mean, it’s not bad, but I can — I can hear the lightning outside, like it’s talking to me, and I can’t sleep through it. I normally can, I mean, but — but normally it’s not this loud.”

He trails off, frustrated as he glares out the window. “Everything’s been loud since the First Realm,” he mutters, beneath his breath.

“Oh,” Lloyd says, quietly. The guys have told them about the First Realm, sure, but like — not really. The same way Lloyd and Nya have told them about the Resistance, but not really. An outline of the events, sure. A plot-like summary of important details, as detached as possible, sure. But all the worst parts, the crushing grief and despair and the awful headaches from too little sleep and too many held-back tears, all that? No way.

So while Lloyd knows they went through heck in the First Realm, he doesn’t really know. But with the way Jay’s eyes are shadowed, the dark circles beneath them and the way he looks like he’s years older as he stares at the storm out the window right now, he can guess.

“That must’ve been tough,” he finally says, hesitantly. “Being stranded, and everything. I can’t imagine what I’d do if I was cut off from everything like that.”

Jay blows his breath out, his fingers trembling slightly where they lace together. “It wasn’t fun,” he says, a little distantly. “I…I was kind of a mess, at first. I think I scared the guys. I wish I hadn’t, but it was just — it was a lot.”

Lloyd’s not sure what to say to that, so he just squeezes Jay’s forearm with his good hand, and hopes it’s worth something.

Jay shakes his head, almost as if to himself, “I just wish I’d been useful.”

Lloyd blinks at that, taken aback — and pretty concerned — at the gaping insecurity in Jay’s voice. He knows Jay struggles with that, but to see it this raw—

It hurts.

“Kai says you helped build that dragon,” he says, nudging Jay’s side with his knee. “That plan wouldn’t have worked without you. And you drew up the actual plans, and kept them secret and everything. And I saw you, when you guys came back. You saved us, right in the nick of time. It sounded like you were pretty crucial to the whole thing, to me.”

Jay gives a huff of laughter, but some of the tension in his expression eases. “You’re just saying that. Buttering me up,” he shakes his head, knocking his fist against Lloyd’s leg.

“Am not,” Lloyd says, kneeing him back. “I’m serious. You’re all kinds of useful. I’d totally hire you, if you came to me with your ninja resumé.”

“Yeah, ‘cause job number one on it would be ‘green ninja babysitter’. You’d have no choice."

Lloyd sputters. “I’m not — you guys don’t babysit me.”

“I have a whole lot of evidence that proves otherwise,” Jay says, grinning. “The others would agree, too.”

“This is mutiny,” Lloyd glares. “The nerve, the utter disrespect. I’m your leader.”

Jay actually laughs at that, further proving Lloyd’s point that his whole team is awful. But it’s a genuine laugh, one that softens the lines of stress at the corners of Jay’s eyes, so Lloyd figures he can let it go and laugh a little himself.

This time. They’re gonna have to talk about the babysitting thing later.

“We really missed you guys,” Lloyd finally says as his laughter ebbs, his traitor voice cracking in the middle. “A-a lot. I’m really glad you’re back. Like, you have no idea.”

“I think we kinda do,” Jay breathes out on dying laughter. “We missed you too, you know. We couldn’t even check if you were alright, we had no idea what was happening. You guys were realms away.”

Lloyd swallows back the ‘but you were dead’. Jay doesn’t need that knowledge right now. Jay needs to be able to relax, and to get more than three hours of sleep for once.

“Well, we’re in the same one now,” he says, with a wry smile. “Hopefully we can stay that way, for a while.”

“Do not jinx us,” Jay points his finger at him, and Lloyd manages a grin that feels genuine this time, shrugging. He’s beyond pleased to find out that the action doesn’t hurt so much, only feeling the faint twinges of pain this time. Lloyd stifles a yawn instead of replying, and Jay fixes him with a look, jerking his head back toward the bedroom.

“If your arm’s better, you should get back to sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lloyd mutters, biting back a groan as he stands, wobbling a bit as his arm swings loosely. “That goes for you, too.”

“I’m not the one with designer bags for eyes,” Jay says, even though he clearly has dark circles worse than Lloyd. He pauses, eyeing Lloyd’s arm. “You really shouldn’t sleep with this on, you know,” he adds, tapping his wrist, nails clacking oddly on the metal.

Lloyd cringes. “I know,” he mutters. “I’m just — I don’t wanna have to put it on, if we…”

“If we’re attacked in the middle of the night?” Jay says drily, but there’s understanding in his voice. “Yeah, I get that. But hey, how about this: you sleep with it off for tonight, and if anyone comes in to kill you, I’ll take ‘em out.”

Lloyd raises an eyebrow. “Lightning blast to the face?”

“Lightning blast to the face,” Jay nods solemnly.

Lloyd shifts, arms wrapped around himself, his real fingers clenching anxiously at the juncture where his prosthetic meets his arm. It’s tempting, the idea of having the heavy weight off for the night. Really tempting.

But that also means taking it off, and that sounds…less than fun, especially after all the pain he’s already been in tonight.

“I’ll consider it,” Lloyd says, smiling weakly. “But I have full faith in you.”

Jay’s eyes are understanding as he nods, knocking his fist gently against Lloyd’s arm again. “Good. Now, bed. Practice starts back tomorrow, remember? You don’t wanna be dead tired for that.”

Lloyd’s heart sinks. Oh, no. He’d forgotten.

“Aw, man,” he moans. “This is gonna be a disaster.”

“Don’t say that,” Jay says, clearly trying to sound optimistic. “It’ll go fine. Wait and see.”

************************

It is, in fact, a disaster.

The first practice with the guys after everything reminds him a whole lot of his first time sparring with Nya down one arm, and that — well, sucks. That’s about as cheerfully as he can put it.

“Do you need a hand?” Lloyd looks up at the voice, shielding his eyes against the afternoon sun. Zane’s standing over him, looking slightly apologetic, his hand outstretched.

Lloyd takes the offered hand, pulling himself with a grunt of effort. “Yeah, a right one would be nice.”

Jay and Nya groan in unison. Zane just flicks his eyes skywards, his mouth curving up slightly as he hauls Lloyd the rest of the way to his feet. Lloyd wobbles a bit, caught off guard, and Zane steadies him, grabbing for his prosthetic before he can lose balance. Zane’s hand lingers a little too long around it, his eyes flashing in concentration where they rest on the metal fingers. Lloyd’s about to ask him what’s up — growing slightly defensive — when Zane lets go, blinking once. The look of furrowed concentration stays on his face even as he steps back, though, and Lloyd’s not sure if he likes that.

“Sorry, Lloyd,” Cole says, interrupting his train of thought as he steps forward, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck in guilt. “I didn’t think you’d — I shouldn’t have been hitting that hard.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Kai snaps testily, his eyes flashing in the dangerous kind of protectiveness Lloyd’s used to seeing against people not in their family. He quickly intervenes, waving his hands.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, chill out,” he says, hastily. “I wasn’t paying attention, it was my fault. Besides, it’s not any worse than what Nya gave me the first time we sparred with, uh…the arm.”

Nya rolls her eyes. “You kept tripping everywhere. That’s not my fault.”

Lloyd goes a bit red, but he doesn’t argue back. He’s pretty sure Pixal has video footage that would invalidate any argument he’d have, anyways.

Kai looks between the two of them, then seems to lose some of the fire, shoulders sagging. “Just…be more careful,” he mutters. “Lloyd’s arm is still pretty new.”

Lloyd’s head swivels to Kai, his mouth half-open, incredulous. He begs Kai’s pardon, who, again, lost their arm here and who definitely didn’t? Who knows what they’re talking about, and who knows absolutely nothing—

“Yeah, no, for sure,” Cole nods back, like Lloyd isn’t even here. “I’ll let up on the heavier attacks, too.”

Lloyd snaps his mouth shut tightly. He wants to scream. They’re all acting like Lloyd is glass, like he’s fragile. And that’s not the problem. The problem isn’t his arm. The problem isn’t even that he’s not used to the prosthetic, because at this point he kinda is. (He’s getting there.) No, the problem is that the guys are all walking on eggshells around him, to the point where the hits they do throw at him are so sporadic it’s completely throwing Lloyd off. Like he’s being attacked by uncoordinated chickens with no heart in their attacks, or something.

It’s actually a pretty good strategy to keep in mind, he muses, for another time when the target isn’t him.

“Um, no, you won’t,” he says instead, biting his cheek to keep the edge out of his voice. “You’re going to actually attack me. You’re holding back so much right now you’re handicapping yourself worse than me without a metal arm.”

Cole looks taken aback. “I just sent you to the ground, bud,” he says. “Hard.”

“You only sent me to the ground because I wasn’t expecting you to hit like Jay,” Lloyd shoots back.

“Hey!”

“If that’s the tactic you wanna use, fine, but only if you’ve got a plan for when I blast you right back from the ground.”

Cole blinks. “Do your powers even work with the prosthetic?”

“I do have another arm,” Lloyd growls. He immediately feels bad, because he sounds angrier than he should be, but that subject’s touchy. He hasn’t tried to use his powers with the prosthetic yet, apart from the blinding blast of energy he’d given off when he’d first gotten them back, and he doesn’t want to find out if another use will blow his arm to pieces or not.

“It should work with it, anyways,” Nya assures them, though there’s a spark of uncertainty in her eyes. “Your powers are pretty intuitive. They protect you, so it wouldn’t make sense for them to hurt you like that.”

Lloyd doesn’t say how completely unfounded this is, because his powers tried to protect him during the fight with his father and they sure as heck hurt him then, but she does have…a bit of a point. And again — there’s like, the glaring fact that his arm did not explode when he went supernova on top of Borg Tower. And Lloyd’s control is way better these days, so in all honesty, it’ll probably be fine.

But on the off chance. Lloyd is trying to be more careful, lately.

Now the guys, though. The guys are taking careful to a completely ridiculous level.

“Maybe we should tone it down for today, just to be safe,” Kai says, exchanging looks with Cole. A vein somewhere in Lloyd’s forehead begins to throb. “We don’t want to take any risks.”

“Oh, yeah, like we weren’t taking plenty of risks while you guys were gone in the First Realm. Oh wait, we did, and we were just fine then,” Lloyd snaps.

He immediately regrets it, because Kai’s expression does this awful crumpling thing, and Cole’s eyes widen painfully. Jay just looks down, and Lloyd hates himself.

“I-I didn’t mean—” he stammers, grasping desperately for the words to apologize, when Zane lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, silencing him.

“How about I train with Lloyd one on one for a bit,” he says. The corners of his mouth quirk up, humorlessly. “I think cooling down might be in order.”

Lloyd feels his cheeks heat, but he ducks his head, nodding. Kai looks like he want to protest, but he shuts his mouth, nodding as well, and Lloyd’s relieved to see a kind of understanding in his eyes.

He hopes he does, Lloyd thinks to himself, as Zane leads them away from the others, to the other side of the yard they’re using for training. He hopes, that Kai and Jay and Cole know he isn’t actually trying to attack them for getting yanked into another realm instead of being crushed to death, because that is definitely not something he would ever complain about—

“So, how strong is your arm?”

Lloyd blinks rapidly, yanked back to the present. “My — what?”

Zane repeats the question, patiently. “Your arm, the prosthetic one. Do you know how strong it is?”

“Like…as in durability, or how hard can I hit with it?” Lloyd asks, flexing a metal wrist.

“Ah. That’s a good question,” Zane tilts his head. “Both, I suppose.”

“Um, pretty strong, I guess,” Lloyd winces, remembering the last time he’d tested how strong it was, and he’d sent the punching bag through the wall instead. “Most of the strength is in my forearm, ‘cause it’s just metal and gears there. It gets a little dicey where it connects, up here, but it can take the heavy hits.”

His father had the honor of testing that part out, he thinks bitterly.

Zane nods, his eyes calculating. “Good. Then show me a heavy hit.”

It takes a second for the question to register, but when it does, Lloyd blanches. “No,” he says, firmly. “No way.” He remembers how the punching bag crumpled beneath his metal fist. He remembers too well how his father, full power, had actually buckled under several of his hits. The idea of hitting one of the guys with that same force makes him sick.

“Ah,” Zane says, and there’s a spark in his eyes. “So now you want to start holding back.”

“This — this is different,” Lloyd grinds out, trying not to go red in embarrassment. “It’s one thing to hold back entirely, but my arm is — its different, Zane, it’s way stronger now, and I don’t wanna hurt you guys with it.”

“I’m not going to break, Lloyd,” Zane says, cooly.

Lloyd bites his lip. “Look, I’m serious, you don’t understan—”

The end of Lloyd’s sentence cuts off with a yelp as Zane sweeps his leg out from beneath him, sending him sprawling to the ground. He looks up at him, wounded, and Zane just tilts his head.

“You said you want us to stop holding back,” he says, challenging. “You want a real fight, so fight back. Hit me.”

That’s all the warning Lloyd gets before Zane sweeps another kick toward him, forcing Lloyd to roll out of the way, somersaulting backwards before springing back to his feet. He opens his mouth to protest, but Zane’s elbow is already whistling toward his head, followed by his fist, and Lloyd’s too busy blocking and dodging to get any word out edgewise.

He’s not going to hit him with it, Lloyd tells himself fiercely. He’s not, but — but Zane is actually attacking him now, with all the cool calculation and devastating accuracy Zane is really good at, and if Lloyd doesn’t launch a counterattack soon, Zane’s going to obliterate him in full view of everyone.

Through the buzz of adrenaline, Lloyd bites back a curse. He’s forgotten, for a crippling moment, how smart Zane is. The way he’s pressing on him is leaving his left arm for blocking, which means the only way he’s gonna get a decent hit in is with his right. So either Lloyd sucks it up and hits Zane with the metal arm already, or he’s going to eat dirt the rest of the day.

Darn it, Zane, Lloyd thinks heatedly, barely dodging the next barrage of hits, wincing as one clips his shoulder. He’s just gonna have to do it. They both asked for this—

Lloyd suddenly ducks, darting beneath Zane’s blow then squaring back, bringing his fist up and swinging hard — just to crash right into Zane’s own blocked fist with a loud, screeching clang of metal.

Lloyd blinks. The hit he’d just thrown wasn’t holding back — it was way harder than he should’ve thrown, actually — but Zane just slides a few feet back, barely flinching. He flexes his wrist, a grin curving up the edge of his mouth.

“You aren’t the only one with a metal arm, you know,” he says evenly, and oh. Oh. Lloyd stops dead, staring at him.

So Lloyd’s just an idiot. Here he is, freaking out about how different his arm is now, how no one gets it, and Zane’s been metal this whole entire time.

“I…” Lloyd trails off, staring at him wordlessly. He feels so stupid, a total sham of the leader he’s supposed to be. He’s overlooked the most obvious fact ever, to the point where he’s been severely misjudging Zane, and that’s…that’s bad. That’s very bad, if he’s calling himself leader here.

And that, Lloyd realizes, with an unpleasant jolt, is the real problem with all this. Not the guys, not the arm. It’s Lloyd, failing to lead them against Harumi, failing to lead them against his father, and failing to lead them now. No wonder they can’t take him seriously, when Lloyd can’t even give them the decency of doing the same.

“Oh,” he whispers.

“It’s difficult,” Zane says, quietly. “To see yourself as one way, then suddenly as another. Even if it’s just one limb. Adjusting can be…difficult.”

Lloyd ducks his head, swallowing. “I’m sorry.”

Zane makes a noise that could be a huff of laughter, if it wasn’t so exasperated. “You don’t need to apologize. That is not the point I’m trying to make.”

Lloyd stares at the ground, not meeting his eyes. Zane’s footsteps draw close, until he’s right in front of him.

“Lloyd.” Zane’s hand is gentle on his shoulder, and Lloyd slowly looks up at him, feeling very much like he’s nine years old again, and Zane is the older brother who knows infinitely more about the world than he ever will.

“We are more than just a team for you to lead,” he says, gently. “We’re your family, above all else. We may not have been here when you needed us, but we are here now, and we want to be. We trust you. We just want you to trust us back.”

“I do,” Lloyd says, fervently. “I do, Zane, and I didn’t mean to — I never blamed—” He cuts off, shaking his head and swallowing. “I wanted to be there, too,” he rasps. “I — we couldn’t be there for you guys, either. You were alone, too. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to any of us.”

“No,” Zane says, sounding very tired. “No, it wasn’t.”

Not for the first time, Lloyd wonders how heavily the guys edited their own story of their time apart, and how much of the darker stuff they decided to leave out. The hollow look in Zane’s eyes leaves his stomach sinking. Probably a lot.

“B-but we’re together now,” Lloyd finally speaks up, cringing at the waver in his voice. “And, um. I know I’ve been most of the problem, but — but I trust you guys. I trust you, so — could you show me how to use my arm?”

Zane looks at him, and Lloyd offers him a tentative smile. “Since you’re the resident expert, and all.”

Zane’s mouth quirks up in a grin of amusement, and Lloyd feels a happy flare of victory at the action.  

“I wouldn’t call myself that,” he says, lightly. “But yes, I can help adjust your training. Provided, of course, you throw better hits. No offense intended, but that one was…pitiful, at best.”

Lloyd chokes on a laugh. “Okay, if that’s how it is. I’ll show you a real hit. Just don’t go crying to Cole when I wipe the floor with you.”

“I assure you,” and there’s an edge to Zane’s smile that promises Lloyd’s not leaving here without his fair share of bruises. “I have no intention of doing so.”

************************

Training with Zane helps even more than he’d thought it would. Not only does Lloyd start to learn how to better use his prosthetic to an advantage, the others pick up on it and start actually fighting Lloyd again, well-practiced moves and techniques that force him to fight back, and by the third week of practices they’ve all slid back into a steady routine, even if there is still the occasional hesitation when it comes to Lloyd’s right arm.

Except for Nya. She’s been sending him sprawling across the mat since day one, no problem, and even with her healing arm she’s never stopped threatening to do it again.

Lloyd’s beyond grateful, though — he’s starting to almost feel normal again, to feel a little like his old self, with his proper place on the team, and he finally, finally feels like he’s doing something right. So he’s got no right to complain whatsoever, when the increased training leaves his arm feeling so sore he may as well have gotten hit by a truck.

A throbbing ache shoots through his right wrist again, pulsing up through the bones of his arm. Lloyd’s fingers grasp on air, wavering once, twice before it clicks that there’s nothing there. A croaking laugh almost bubbles up in his throat. His arm is in agony and it’s not even there. There is no wrist there to hurt, he doesn’t even have his prosthetic on right now. So why—

Phantom pain, he reminds himself firmly, before clicking the prosthetic back into place, the motion slowly growing familiar. It’s just a ghost, like Morro. Lloyd survived him, he can survive this.

Besides, he doesn’t have time to be hallucinating an arm that’s not there. He’s gotta have his best face on right now, because this…this is going to take a lot out of him.

Lloyd stares at Kryptarium Prison with hollow eyes, trying to rid himself of the icy shiver that’s crawling up and down his spine. They’ve since fixed the damage to the walls, and he’s eternally grateful for that — but the stretch of stone that’s been recently repaired is obvious, and Lloyd can easily pick out exactly where he went bursting through when—

When Lloyd’s brain was an idiot, he scolds himself, as the shiver threatens to turn into a full-blown panic attack. Those memories need to go right back into the dark hole he’s shoved them in, where they can stay for the rest of his entire life.

Besides, the person he’s about to see is gonna bring back enough bad memories, as it is.

Lloyd swallows, forcing past the fear closing in around his throat as he finally starts walking again, his feet practically dragging toward the prison doors. His arm throbs in pain with every step, spreading to the aching twin points on the back of his right hand.

Which isn’t there, he reminds himself fiercely. There’s no hand to hurt, move past it, brain.

The doors slide open for him with a mechanical hiss, a chiming bell warning the guards of his entrance. Lloyd’s in full gi, hood pulled back, so no one stops him, the outermost guards just nodding to him as he passes. Lloyd barely manages a grimace of greeting for them, where he’d normally have at least something sincere. But it’s hard enough, trying to keep his expression impassive. Each step further into the prison feels like a step closer to his doom, and this is ridiculous because the only other time he’s felt this nervous walking up a set of stairs was the Overlord—

“Name, please?”

Lloyd blinks, abruptly realizing he’s already reached the check-in gate. He shakes his head, trying to reorient himself. Name, please, he thinks drily, as he looks up. Like this guard doesn’t know who he is, entirely decked out in green, it isn’t like he’s been on TV a whole lot in the last month—

Anyways.

“Lloyd Garmadon,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound like a gasp for air. “I’d like to see my — um, Lord Garmadon. He should be in heavy lockdown.”

Private lockdown, somewhere dark and deep, probably, Lloyd thinks. He tells himself he doesn’t feel anything at that. His father probably likes it, anyways, being alone and in the dark. That’s all it seems he’d even wanted, except for maybe her—

Lloyd thrusts the hot flash of emotion down deep along with the rest of that thought, and tries to focus on the guard’s reply.

“—terribly sorry, but I can’t let you in.”

Lloyd’s brain stutters to a halt. “Sorry, could you repeat that?” he frowns, taken aback. He doesn’t like to throw his weight around, but Lloyd’s pretty sure that the ninja are supposed to have clearance to the entire prison. Especially after everything that’s happened, he and Nya practically have clearance to the entire city at this point.

“Your name’s been blacklisted,” the guard chews on the edge of his lip nervously. “Y-you aren’t allowed access to the prisoner in question.”

Lloyd blinks rapidly. “What?”

The guard is visibly sweating now. “The, uh, the records say I can’t let you in. To see him. Not without a signature.”

Lloyd’s stomach does a weird swooping thing, like he’s missed a step on the stairs. If he needs a signature, then someone had to go out of their way to block him — specifically him — from seeing Garmadon. Someone who the warden apparently decided had the right to make decisions for Lloyd.

“Who’s signature,” Lloyd grits out, fury barely held back.

The poor guard — because he really doesn’t deserve this, but oh, Lloyd is angry — shrinks even smaller in his seat, swallowing.

“Wu,” he finally says, stammering. “Your uncle, he — I’m sorry, but he technically has the right…”

Lloyd steps back, metal creaking as his fist forms. “Thank you,” he clips out tightly, then spins in place, hoping his eyes haven’t gone supernova yet.

No, he’s saving that for his uncle.

************************

“How could you do that.”

Sensei Wu barely stirs, visibly unaffected by the way Lloyd’s just slammed his door open, and is currently fuming in the doorway like a very angry part-Oni crime of nature.

“It was, at the moment, the correct course of action to take.” He sips evenly at his tea, not even attempting to pretend he doesn’t know exactly what Lloyd’s talking about.

Lloyd sees red. “You had no right.”

Sensei Wu finally looks at him, sighing wearily. “I’m your family, Lloyd. I have every right—”

“Not this one!”

Sensei’s eyes are sympathetic, but unrelenting. “Your mother told me what happened, Lloyd. What you did.”

Lloyd almost swallows his tongue at the shock of surprise, but it quickly mixes with a hot flare of betrayal in his chest. It’s his arm, it’s his story to tell.

“Cool.” The words scrape through his teeth. “That doesn’t mean you can block me from seeing him!”

“Your head isn’t in the right place to see him, Lloyd. Neither is your heart. I believe you know this, too.”

“My head—” Lloyd trips over his words in anger. “My head is fine! So’s my heart, thanks.”

Sensei Wu’s eyes narrow. “You’ve never been the best of liars, nephew.”

Lloyd is going to smash his stupid teapot. “Then maybe your perception is still off from the First Realm, uncle.”

A part of Lloyd’s soul dies at the sentence, because it’s the most dangerously rude thing he’s said to his uncle since he was like, eight. But he swallows it back, because he has a bad feeling it’s not going to be the worst thing he says in this conversation.

His uncle’s lips press tightly together, and Lloyd feels more than sees the crackle of anger in his eyes as the atmosphere heats, no longer a conversation between sensei and student. It’s a family conversation, now. “I hardly need much perception to see how traumatized you are from recent events. It’s not difficult to miss.”

“Traumatized—” Lloyd sputters, his own eyes narrowing. “You know what, fine, so what? It’s not like I haven’t been — been traumatized, or whatever, before,” he snaps. “Morro put my head pretty out of place, and you were fine with that.”

Sensei Wu’s eyes flash. “I was not ‘fine’ with that. I was nowhere near fine with that, but at that time you were equipped to deal with it. And you were not forcing yourself to face Morro on some shred of false hope you know will only hurt.”

Lloyd full-body flinches back at that last part. But it’s not that — it’s not because —

See, Lloyd knows. He’s had it physically beaten into him multiple times, that he’s not the father he knew. He knows that he’s not really him, that he will never be him, that he will never regain the father he lost no matter how much this one looks like him.

But — but Lloyd’s heart can only take so much at once, and he’s dangerously close to reaching a point where nothing will repair that kind of break. He can take a hundred prison walls and his arm cut off fifty times in a row, but that is something he’d rather die than have to face right now.

And to hear the phrase false hope coming from the one person he’d hoped would understand nearly breaks Lloyd on the spot.

So he gets angry instead.

“You taught me not to give in to fear,” his voice is icy, words measured and slow. “You taught me not to put off until tomorrow what I can deal with today, and you wanted me to make my own decisions.”

“Yet I do not recall teaching you to disregard any and all concerns for your wellbeing,” his uncle replies, his voice just as glacial. “Nor do I remember teaching you to argue back against my orders.”

“You made me master!” Lloyd nearly shouts back, barely restraining himself. “You told me to start giving the orders, how am I supposed to do that if you don’t trust me? You can’t keep doing this to me, either you trust me or you don’t!”

“I do trust you, but I will not lose another member of my family because they believe they’re stronger than they are!” Uncle Wu snaps, his eyes flashing, and for a beat Lloyd can almost see the Oni in his blood, as well. “I’ve forced you to face your father too many times, Lloyd. I will not let him continue to hurt you.”

“He isn’t hurting me!” Lloyd bursts out, despite knowing those words are a stone-cold lie. But— “He’s already hurt me, I almost died, what worse can he do from a prison cell?”

“More than you will acknowledge!” his uncle barks back. He exhales tightly, eyes closing briefly before re-opening. “Lloyd, I understand that you are upset with my decision. But in time, you will see that this was the right one. Your perception is clouded to the point where you can no longer see yourself properly, and a leader who continues to put themselves further into that state is not fit to be leader.”

Lloyd’s teeth snap together with an audible clack, and his fists tighten, fingernails biting into his palms and metal fingers creaking. “You’ve been gone for months,” he grinds out. “For a year, and I led just fine that whole time. You can’t just come back now and say I’m — I’m a screwup—”

“That is not what I—”

“And you keep talking about decisions, when you didn’t even ask me before—”

“Lloyd—”

“—going behind my back is way out of line and you know it!”

“This is not—”

“And my perception is fine, I do see myself—”

“Lloyd, I said—”

“—and I’m fine, Uncle Wu, I swear, I can face him I’m fine—”

“That is enough, Lloyd!”

Lloyd flinches back as his uncle’s voice cracks out, angrier than he’s heard it. Wu’s knuckles turn white around his cup handle, and his eyes glint with the steel of his glare. “This is my decision, and I will not move from it until you can prove that you are ready.”

Until he can prove he’s ready. Like Lloyd hasn’t had to prove again and again—

Like he doesn’t believe in Lloyd either when he was the one—

Like Lloyd wasn’t willing to lose an arm not to fail him—

Something dangerous in Lloyd snaps.

“You’re just as bad as him,” he spits, venomous like a snake. “You’re all the same, you think you know what’s best for me and you never care how I feel! You don’t even care about me, you just care about the stupid Green Ninja and your stupid prophecies and I’m sick of it, I’m so sick of being your Green Ninja, I hate it!”

Sensei Wu goes stark white. His fingers tremble and his teacup drops to the table, his eyes painfully wide. “Lloyd,” he whispers, weakly. “That’s not—”

“Fine,” Lloyd snaps over him, blinking back angry tears. “Fine, I’ll stay away from him. I’ll stay away from all of you. I hate being part of this family anyways.”

He turns on heel before he can look at his uncle a second longer, before the tears can start to fall and he has the chance to say anything else. There’s a high-pitched buzzing in his ears as he storms back down the hall, the lightbulbs above him sparking wildly in his wake before shorting out, exploding into tiny bits of glass that rain over the floor.

Lloyd darts past them, hurrying his footsteps as he tries to escape the apartment with the rest of the lights unscathed. Shoving open the stairwell door, Lloyd makes a break for the rooftop, where he at least knows it’ll be quiet, and there won’t be as many lights for him to burst, and his uncle can’t—

Lloyd pushes the rooftop door open and stumbles out with a heaving gasp, drawing air in desperately as if that’ll ground him. His heart is racing way too fast, way too angry, and his power is zinging all over his skin like a swarm of angry bees. He’s almost dizzy with how angry he is — except that’s not right, he’s not just angry, there’s a whole wave of emotion coming in from somewhere that’s threatening to — to drown him, and this is why Lloyd should always keep things bottled back where they belong—

A transformer across the street blows, and Lloyd jumps in alarm as it explodes, showering sparks down toward the street below. Lloyd blinks past the blurring tears, his stomach dropping. There’s a flickering of lights before the apartment complex below it goes dark, power lost as startled cries sound from the open windows. The power lines around him start thrumming dangerously, reaching a higher-pitched whine that prefaces bursting. Lloyd’s throat closes over in panic. Oh, no. He didn’t think — he can't be this bad. He doesn’t lose control like this, he — he needs to stop, right now, or the entire city’s going to lose power.

He clenches his fists again, trying to reign the power in, to pull it back to him, but it only sputters more wildly out of control. Lloyd’s hands are trembling now, shaking worse than before, and in a desperate attempt for it to stop he crumples to the rooftop, pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, burying his head in the crook of his flesh elbow and squeezing tight, metal digging painfully into his leg as he draws in tighter and tighter — like he can crush himself down into something small enough that he won’t feel so much anymore, and his power will stop, stop—

But it’s like he’s back in the prison, his power sparking wildly out of control and not listening to him. Just like her. Like his father, like his uncle, nothing he’s gotten from his family ever listens to him when it matters, and why should they. Why will they ever, when all Lloyd’s ever going to be is a weapon, a scribbled line in a prophecy or a stepping stone for power—

It’s his power. His power, and he can’t even get it to listen to him.

Lloyd listens to the power lines around him explode and lets his sweatshirt sleeve soak up the tears.

Lying to himself can only get him so far. He’s never going to be able to prove he’s ready to face his father.

Not when he doesn’t even know if he can.

[maraudererasmut]

Black and White (Part XVIII)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV | Part XVI | Part XVII | Part XVIII | Part XIX | Part XX

"Thanks for joining me for dinner!" 

Lily's voice was light and airy, her posture relaxed and her smile bright. In many ways, she was the opposite of Sirius.

Remus quickly pushed the thought from his mind, choosing to focus on the present. He still hadn't heard back from Sirius or James, and it was his goal for that evening not to bring them up in conversation. Lily was her own person; she was more than just James' wife and Sirius' friend. She needed to be treated as such. If she chose to raise the subject, Remus wouldn't be opposed to it, but he refused to ruin a fun evening with memories from last night.

"Thanks for inviting me. It's not often that I get to go out for dinner with friends."

It's not often that I can afford to.

Lily had insisted on buying Remus dinner that night, refusing to take no as an answer. She promised that Remus could return the favour once he sold his first painting at the gallery. 

"And you will sell one, trust me!"

Remus admired Lily for her optimism, even if he didn't share it. 

"This is great! I'm glad you're here!" Lily's voice broke through the fog in Remus' mind. He looked up into her emerald eyes. To Remus, they were summer. They were the bright green of rolling fields, as warm and sunny as a perfect August day, as soft and gentle as a summer breeze. He couldn't get enough of Lily's eyes. He'd have to use that colour in a painting some day. 

"Yeah… me too…"

"You seem off, Remus. What's the matter?"

Remus' gaze drifted down to his hands. Was he that obvious? Was his face betraying all of his emotions?

"I'm fine. Really. Let's just have a fun evening talking about art."

"You sure?" Lily sounded concerned as she reached a hand across the table and placed it gently over Remus'. "I'm here if you need to talk… does it have anything to do with what happened the other day?"

Remus looked up and furrowed his brow. How much did Lily know?

"What did James tell you?" He asked suspiciously, a subtle grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Lily smiled in return.

"He said you had a painting for us and that Sirius flipped when he found out. Which was stupid, because Sirius can be a jealous twat sometimes."

Remus' grin grew wider.

"Yeah… that just about sums him up."

Lily chuckled, removing her hand from Remus' and brushing a loose strand of auburn behind her ear. 

"He's more than that, though, despite what the past few weeks have shown you…"

Remus responded with a laugh of his own, recalling the look in Sirius' eyes at the coffee shop. He had seemed so apologetic, so genuine, so different from the gallery owner version of Sirius. 

"I don't doubt that…"

“I’m sorry about him, by the way. I swear, he’s not usually like this. He’s a really nice guy…”

Remus laughed affectionately at Lily's embarrassment. 

“You don’t need to apologize oh his behalf. It’s fine, I get it. Anyway, he… he actually apologized himself. It was… kind of sweet…" Remus' mind flickered briefly to the previous night. "Well… Until he ran away, that is…”

“Ran away?” Lily quirked a brow at Remus, suddenly confused. Lily must not have heard about that part of the evening. 

“Yeah, we had met up at my work last night and chatted a bit. Things were going fine, but he kind of got super upset all of a sudden and left the coffee shop without a word. I…" Remus' eyes drifted to his phone, sitting upside down at the edge of the table. "I haven’t heard from him since.” 

“Oh no… that’s awful…" Lily's face was a cross between pity and concern. Her shoulders dropped and here eyes grew wide. "Do… do you remember what it was that made him upset?”

Remus shrugged. Did he?

“Sort of? He had left me this… voicemail. It was kind of cute, actually, not gonna lie. He had gotten drunk and called and just started talking about how he wanted to talk with me. It really wasn’t a big deal, but it seemed to throw him for a loop…" Remus noticed a distinct flash of panic on Lily's face and his shoulders stiffened. "What? What is it, Lily?”

Lily pursed her lips, speaking more to herself than to Remus.

“That explains a lot…”

“What does it explain? What’s going on?” Remus leaned forward anxiously. Lily seemed to have some answers to the questions that Remus had been asking himself all day. 

“Yesterday… Sirius called James… He was really stressed…”

Shit.

“What did I do?”

Lily reached across the table again, giving Remus' hand a little squeeze.

“Nothing! Oh, Remus, you did nothing wrong, I promise. This is… well, it’s complicated…”

Remus chewed his lip, pondering how much he should press the subject. 

“Is it… something you’re allowed to share with me?”

Lily let out a sigh, pulling herself away from Remus and gazing down at the napkin in her lap.

“It’s a very long story…”

“We’ve got a long dinner…”

Lily smiled gently, that frustrating look of pity ever present. 

“Well… it started when Sirius was young. You… you know he’s not close with his family, right?”

The conversation from the previous evening reverberated in Remus' mind.

“Yeah, he mentioned that last night. I didn’t realize…”

“Yeah…" Lily let out a soft sigh before continuing. "When they were teenagers, Sirius ran away from home and went to live with James. James’ parents basically adopted Sirius. The boys have been inseparable ever since.”

“Wow… I had no idea…” Remus didn't realize the extent of Sirius and James' relationship. He knew they were close, but from the way Lily was describing it, the boys were practically brothers. It was no wonder Sirius was so jealous of James and Remus' budding friendship.

“Anyway…" Lily continued. "One of the main reasons that Sirius left was his parents. They were… well, they were cruel to him. They drank. A lot. It… never ended well…”

“Shit… I’m… That...that sucks…” Remus didn't know what else to say. He wasn't entirely sure there was anything to say. How does a person respond when they find out someone they know had a rough childhood?

“Yeah…" Lily agreed, keeping here eyes averted. She shrugged her shoulders and continued her explanation. "When Sirius left, his younger brother stayed home. He became their prodigal son, the son that the Black family always wanted. He took after his father in many ways… Including the alcohol." Lily picked up the glass of water in front of her and brought it to her lips, taking a long, slow sip, as if to regain her composure. "A few years ago, Regulus… that’s Sirius’ brother… he went to rehab, joined AA, decided to make a change in his life. It was really great. We got a lot closer with him… the boys reconnected… Then about a year ago…”

Lily paused. Emerald eyes sparkled with lingering tears, threatening to fall at any moment. Remus felt a lump in his throat and stinging in his eyes as he imagined how difficult this must be for Lily to recount. 

“You don’t have to keep going…”

Lily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled up at Remus. 

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s just… a bit hard to talk about." She let out a strained laugh, trying to sound casual. "A year ago, Regulus got into a huge fight with his parents. He let himself go that night, relapsing, falling back to his old habits and coping mechanisms… He… he got into an accident.”

“Shit…"  That seemed to be the only word Remus knew that evening. "Is he…” Remus trailed off, unsure how to phrase his question. Lily caught on to what he was asking. 

“He’s alive… he’s just… not the same." Lily took another drink of water, preparing herself for what came next. "The accident left him unable to do a lot of the things he used to… he turned bitter… claimed he was broken. We’re not as close as we once were. Every time we try to reconnect, he pulls further away. Sirius and Regulus haven’t spoken in months... “

“God… that awful….”

Remus couldn't imagine the pain and struggle that Sirius had gone through. Being an only child, Remus knew he would never fully comprehend Sirius' situation and the hurt he experienced.

“Sirius stopped drinking after the accident. He still has a glass of wine on occasion, a pint of beer, but he hasn’t gone out, gotten drunk, in almost an entire year.”

Remus closed his eyes, knowing exactly why Sirius had left the cafe in such a panic.

“Until two nights ago…”

“Until two nights ago.” 

“And then I brought it up in conversation. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

Lily reached forward, gripping Remus' hand firmly. She looked him straight in the eyes, penetrating his defenses.

“You’re not an idiot, Remus. You didn’t know.” She said it with such conviction, Remus almost believed it. 

Almost.

“...It was my fault,” Remus mumbled to himself.

“How was it your fault?”

“We got into a fight. He… he must have drank because he was angry at me. I made him so mad that he—”

“Stop." Lily's tone was harsh as her grasp on Remus' hand tightened. "Listen to me: this is not your fault. Sirius made a mistake. That’s on him. He’s struggling with it right now, but that doesn’t make it your fault. The best thing we can do is support him and be there for him.”

“I guess…”

“No. There’s no “I guess”, Remus. This is not your fault. You need to know that…” 

Remus heard Lily's words, but his mind kept racing back to their argument in his flat.

“But if he hadn’t—”

“No. Stop it. None of that. Remus, you and Sirius have had a bit of a strained relationship thus far, but he really does enjoy your company. I can assure you of that. You just have to be understanding that he might be a bit off for the next while. Just… be there if he needs you and he’ll reach out to you when he’s ready… Okay?” 

Lily looked so earnest, it was hard to argue with her. She seemed to believe that none of this was because of Remus, despite the evidence to the contrary. How could she be so sure?

“Yeah…" Remus muttered, knowing that there was no point in arguing against the feisty woman before him. "Yeah, okay.”

“Good. Don’t worry, Remus. He’s not mad at you.”

Remus raised an eyebrow skeptically at Lily.

“You sure?” 

“Positive. He doesn’t see this as your fault at all. As far as he’s concerned, he’s worried that he upset you.”

“What? Upset me? How? Why would he think that?"

“That’s what I keep telling him. Now we just have to wait for him to believe me. Things will be fine in a few days. The dust will settle and you two will be able to get back to… whatever it is that you call normal…”

Remus felt himself smile despite the situation.

Normal.

What was normal these days anyway?

“I… I hope it can be a bit better than that…”

“Yeah, Sirius had been a bit of a prick lately," Lily said with a grin, the humour finally returning to her expression. "Well then, hopefully things can get better than normal… For both of you.”

"Yeah… hopefully…"

[insfiringyou]

First time having anal sex with Jungkook

Contains: Him meeting your/his girlfriend’s parents for the first time. Fluff. Smut. Fingering. Oral sex. Anal sex while on period.

While this scenario can be enjoyed on its own, we imagine the reader here to be Young-soon, our headcanon girlfriend for Jungkook (his second serious girlfriend). This takes place around four months into their relationship. Find our more about our headcanon universe and girlfriends here.

We have also written first time anal scenarios for both V and Suga which you may be interested in reading as well as our list of most likely to want to try anal sex.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin  /   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & Our full masterlist can be found here

Rated content below cut

“Kook.” You whispered in the dark, shuffling slightly against the thick duvet to face him, hoping he wasn’t asleep. Despite the warm, sunny weather earlier in the day it had become an unseasonably cold night and you had opted for the quilted bed-sheets, pulling them from the closet in the corner of the room and making up your bed like you had as a child. At least you didn’t need your hot water bottle, Jungkook’s body always seemed warm and comforting and you had spent the last half an hour with your feet pressed against his legs, sharing his heat. 

He had been worried that your parents would object to him sleeping in the same bed as you, with you staying over at their house and, while it was true they had not been overly fond of your last boyfriend, they had welcomed Jungkook with open arms, surprising you both. You suspected, on some level, that it was due to his age. Your ex had been a couple of years older than you and, on the few occasions you had taken him to meet your parents at your childhood home in Incheon, you had been asked to keep the bedroom door open at night. You rolled your eyes every time, you were in your mid-twenties, not a child, but they had insisted. In hindsight, you wondered whether they had seen something in him you had not and whether they knew that after two years of being together he would suddenly get cold feet and decide he wasn’t the dating type after all.

Jungkook, however, had inspired a different reaction from them the moment he stepped foot on the decking in your garden. Your dad was shovelling coal for a BBQ onto the grill and your mom was preparing some desserts but they had both stopped what they were doing to embrace him. He had been visibly nervous on the drive down but he soon relaxed when he saw he had nothing to worry about. After dinner, your father had taken Jungkook aside, into the front living room to show him his prized model train set and later, when you headed to bed, you heard your parents pass your bedroom door without protesting that it was fully closed.

You had been drifting in and out of sleep for the past thirty minutes but couldn’t fully commit. With your new apartment in disarray following your recent move and him spending most of his time in the shared house with the other members, it had been several weeks since you last slept in the same bed as Jungkook. The solidity of finally having him beside you in nothing but his boxers and an old white T-shirt was too much to bear. Your mind kept returning to the sweet, bashful smile he had sported when your father wrapped him in his arms and the way he bowed politely to your mother, a blush staining his beautiful olive skin; you had never seen him look so happy and proud. Your heart ached for him and your body craved his touch. The light on the landing outside your room was turned on but your parents had gone to bed some time before.

“Mm?” He murmured. His voice was tired but he perked up at your movement, straightening himself beneath the covers.

Shifting your body closer to him, you whispered. “I really want you right now.” 

There was a pause as he registered what you were saying. “Oh.” His hand found your shoulder and brushed the skin gently as he moved forward and captured your lips. He was soft against you as he leaned over your body, kissing you into the covers. You became aware of the wet sound of your lips meeting and opening against each other ringing out in the otherwise silent space; the house was in a suburb and lacked the kind of traffic you had grown used to in Seoul, but the noise only seemed to intensify your desire. By the time his hand finally reached the crotch your panties, pushing gently past your thighs to rub a line down the centre, you were practically squirming into his palm. 

His breath was audibly strained when he broke away from your lips and, in return, you stifled a moan as he slipped his index and middle finger beneath the gusset to gently rub your clit, circling the bud with the pads of his fingers in little, precise movements. 

“Is this good?” He whispered ticklishly into your ear, making you quiver. He could not exactly be described as shy in the bedroom, but he was always eager for feedback; wanting to please you. Moving forward blindly, you pecked his cheek in reply and bit your lip as he continued this motion a few times; his minty breath warm against your cheeks as he held you close, eventually probing downwards towards your entrance. You took a sharp intake of breath as you suddenly remembered...

“Wait...I’m on a period.” You murmured. 

He paused before starting to pull his hand away but you reassured him. 

“It’s okay...I’m wearing a tampon.”

“Oh.” He said, a little wearily. You blushed as you realised he didn’t really know what to do. You had been lucky so far in your time together that your periods had not coincided with the nights you had spent together and so you had never had cause to wonder how squeamish he was. You reached for his wrist, tucked between your thighs, and stroked it gently, savouring the comforting feeling of the fine hairs on his arm against your fingertips. 

“It’s okay.” You reassured him. “Just be careful.” 

He nodded. “I will.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he slipped his hand away from you momentarily, pulling it from under the elastic leg of your panties. He spat gently into his hand, brushing his fingers against his lips before dipping back into your knickers; moving against you once more as he rubbed your swollen clit. The extra lubrication was appreciated and you threw your head back against the pillow as he moved down to press his open mouth against your camisole, kissing your hard nipples through the fabric. You did your best to remain quiet, knowing your parents were asleep just across the hallway, but let out the occasional breathy whimper, stifled by Jungkook’s mouth as he pressed back against your lips, more firmly this time. 

Historically, your orgasms came sporadically, even when you touched yourself and it soon became apparent you were not going to reach your high. After so long without sex, you wanted nothing more than to have him completely; for him to press his hot, sweaty bare skin against yours and fuck you until you screamed his name but you knew that wasn’t really plausible in your current situation. Your mind raced through the possibilities as you pulled away from your boyfriend’s lips reluctantly. 

“Do you want me to give you a blowjob?” You whispered against his cheek. He shook his head in reply, slowing his fingers. 

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to.” 

You couldn’t help but peck his face again. His body smelt of the spicy, sweet deodorant he had put on before bedtime and you craved him so much you thought you could cry. “Can we try something else?” You begged, slipping your fingers through his and holding his hand loosely. 

“Like what?” He asked. 

You thought for a moment, considering the possibilities. One, above all others, made your breath hitch and your heart race. “Anal?” You suggested, predicting his reaction correctly nano-seconds before you felt his body stiffen slightly against you. He paused, clearly taken aback. 

“Is it...” He started, before changing his mind. “Have you done it before?” He finished after a moment’s thought. It was mainly concern you sensed in his voice but the thought that telling him the truth might make him unnecessarily jealous crossed your mind.

“It’s okay...” You avoided the question but sensed he had already guessed the answer. “We can stop if you don’t like it.” 

You sensed he was still suspicious you were kidding him as he took another moment to think it through as you adjusted your positions on the bed. The mattress squeaked a little under your weight as you leaned over him and began to work him through his underwear. He let out a loud gasp which you quickly stifled with a kiss as you pulled down his waistband and began to stroke his thick length in slow, languorous motions. Giving you pleasure never failed to arouse him and, as suspected he was already rock hard and extra sensitive. When you were confident he had his vocals under control, you pulled away to take him into your mouth; gliding up and down a couple of times to slicken him.

He held your hair back lovingly as you pleased him with your warm lips and tongue, making sure to pull away before he could get too worked up and lose control. You removed your camisole and panties as you shifted positions once more and settled against the mattress, piling a couple of pillows up beneath your waist to prop your lower body up. 

“Here.” You whispered. “Hold my leg.”

He complied as he nestled himself close to you, supporting your right thigh against his waist to angle your body upwards as you guided his spare hand between your thighs and to your arse. His fingers moved against you momentarily, brushing the puckered skin gently with a slight intake of air, before moving upwards to press against your cunt, figuring out the anatomy. You gasped as you felt his fingers briefly touch the string of your tampon before moving back to your other hole. He nestled himself closer as he pulled away to grasp his length, holding it straight and pressing it against you gently. 

You reached between your legs to stop him before he could penetrate and shuffled slightly to reach into the top draw of your bedside table silently. The anticipation, in addition to the dark and almost-silent environment you were currently in was causing you both to feel a little nervous and you were a little skittish and impatient as you shuffled blindly through the jumble of objects in your draw to find the bottle of lubricant you were sure you had left in here during your last visit home. 

Sensing your frustration, Jungkook moved forwards to help, finding the small bottle first and, with a moment’s difficulty finding the pump, spread the liquid liberally over his cock. He gasped breathlessly. “Oh, it’s cold.” 

You grinned and pecked his lips as he embraced you once more; reaching out and taking his slick member in your hand. Slower than slow, you pressed him against your entrance, opening your mouth wide in a silent moan as you felt the very tip of him press into you. He resisted the urge to push forwards and held his hips still, patiently waiting for you to guide him inside, inch by inch. Eventually, after a few minutes of gentle encouragement, he was able to immerse himself fully and let out an involuntary groan.

You froze below him and, realising his mistake, began to cough a couple of times to try and mask it. “Sorry.” He whispered. His voice sounded genuine and you grinned, despite yourself as he started to move his hips against you, being more careful in stifling his moans and grunts as your body accommodated him. The sensation, vaguely familiar but also different, was exquisite. You had tried anal twice before with your most recent ex, but it had never felt as good as this.You felt full in a delicious, complete way that you could not get from vaginal sex and, while there was some discomfort beneath the pleasure, knowing it was Jungkook doing this to you made your entire body throb and tingle delightfully. You knew that he was feeling overwhelmed too from the way he struggled to control his whines. It was something new and taboo for him and something strangely intimate for you; you didn’t think you would have asked him to do this to you a few weeks ago.

He kept his pace slow but, after a few minutes, moved his fingers back to your clit; rubbing you in time with his motions. 

“That feels good.” You allowed yourself to moan as he worked you up. You were surprised when you felt your orgasm approach; coming in sharp and hot and borderline painful. He increased the pace of his fingers but kept his hips slow as you thrust your pelvis against him, your entire body shuddering violently and causing the mattress to squeak in its wooden frame. 

“God.” You called out, as quietly as you possibly could as your laboured breathing slowed down. He entered you once, twice more, burying himself slowly but deep before slipping himself out of you. It didn’t take long for him to finish himself off; grasping his cock tightly and jerking leisurely; enjoying the slower pace. After he spilled himself into his palm, he reached over to the bedside table and slipped a couple of tissues from the gap in the cardboard box on top, cleaning himself quietly. 

“I can’t believe we just did that...” You grinned as he returned from the en-suite, the light from the small room framing his nude body beautifully. Your breath was still heavy from the intensity of your climax. He climbed into the bed as you rose to clean yourself. 

“Me neither.” The wonderstruck sound of his voice struck a chord in your chest as you considered how happy he had been all day. 

“I really hope we weren’t too loud.” You deliberately lowered your voice, suddenly aware that it was three a.m. 

A frown creased his otherwise blissful face. “I wouldn’t want them to hate me.” He said, referring to your parents. 

You shook your head reassuringly as you reached the doorway to the bathroom. “They adore you. I think they want you to live here permanently.” 

You saw his expression change in an instant as his worry was replaced with the brightest, most blazing smile you had seen. The urge to wrap him in your arms and never let go was suddenly overwhelming. With a regretful sigh, you turned to the bathroom. 

***

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[daemongal]

Stress Relief

Smut, NSFW, V x Reader

Copied from my AO3 account for easier access. Enjoy!

“Hands against the wall.” You heard him growl.  

The familiar sound of the key being turned in the lock to the front door of Devil May Cry echoed through the room alongside his words. You’d been given access to the building by Morrison in Dante’s absence as a place of respite and to keep it in shape until, hopefully, he returned.  

Your world had been turned upside down in the last few weeks. Your boss and partner of a number of years,  and some of the only friends you had were gone, and hope still lay at the back of your mind that they would be back, somehow. Within this time, you’d become, shall we say, close to your client V.  

His cane tapped against the floor behind you, as you gladly obliged to his request. You knew the score by now, and you were in no fit state to disobey him today. It had been a tiring day, you’d covered a lot of ground and been involved in a number of fights. You were both exhausted and... frustrated.

You had been anticipating this for the best part of the evening. You knew from the looks he gave you from across the battlefield, those green eyes burning into the back of your head, and the sly touches you exchanged when you were in close proximity. You had fallen hard and fast for the poet, everything about him transfixing your attention. From the way he spoke, the way he recited poetry during battle, the way he elegantly moved around the battlefield like a dancer making every small movement count to conserve energy. There was an immediate chemistry between you both, and between the grief for your lost comrades and your newfound loneliness, you leapt into it wholeheartedly. He had never held back in his flirting and his confidence had always impressed you. You had found a comfort in his arms, and he in yours.

How he would display it would vary from time to time. From rushed midday sessions in an abandoned building you found, to sensual lovemaking into the early hours. Today however, you were there to relieve his frustrations, and oh how you would savour it  

You knew how he wanted you; both palms against the cold wall, knees slightly bent and ass sticking out for him to access with ease. You were still fully clothed, he hadn’t given you a chance to react after taking the first few steps into the building. Your breathing was already heavy, in anticipation of what was to come.  

The head of his cane hooked over the shoulder of your coat and tugged it slightly.

“Off.” He stated, his deep voice echoing though your body, straight down to your throbbing heat. You obliged, eyes remaining on the wall. You unbuckled  your coat and removed it from your shoulders, letting it drop to the ground round your feet. You pulled the under shirt over your head, dropping it to the side and leaving your top half exposed, aside from your bra. You hesitated when reaching round to the clasp.  

You heard a deep chuckle as V walked towards you leaning in towards your ear, breath tickling against your lobe.  

“You’re such a good girl (Y/N).” The praise made you shudder. “You may remove it for me. I don’t plan on keeping you waiting too long tonight, my love.” You knew that meant nothing coming from his mouth. He would take as long as he damn well wanted and there would be nothing you could do about it.  

You exhaled as he ran a slender finger across from one shoulder blade to the next, your body shaking under his slight touch. You could almost hear the smirk developing on his lips. He knew how sensitive you were to his touches, and he savoured  every moment of it.  

You tentatively reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, and let it drop to the floor. You were never a self conscious person. Your body was toned and scarred from your many battles and nudity was not unknown ground for you. But, feeling his eyes burn into your back from the gazes you knew he was giving you made you feel like a virgin again, your mind willing you to cover yourself up with your arms. Despite this, you put your hands back against the wall, knowing that doing anything but would get you punished.  

He ran that same finger from the base of your neck between your shoulder blades, down your spine to the small of your back, dragging his nail as he did so. Your back arched involuntarily at the touch and a hiss left your lips.  

How he turned you into such a mess from so little stimulation was still a mystery to you.  

As if reading your mind, V purred “If only you could see yourself as I do right now my love. A battle hardened devil hunter , like putty beneath my fingertips. You’re already needy and we have barely begun.”

Your breathing became heavier at his words, a shocked gasp leaving your lips and he pressed the head of his cane up between your legs, against your core. He held it there torturously for a few moments.

You weren’t begging yet you told yourself.

He pressed harder as you felt what could only be his tongue run up your spine, across the line made by his nail earlier.  

“Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.”  

Your face flushed, you shuddered as he spoke once again into your ear, his voice lust filled and deep.

“You know you need only tell me what it is you want. Your silence is deafening to me (Y/N).”

His cane, unmoving, stayed pressed against your most sensitive spot. It took every ounce of your motivation not to grind your hips against it, but you knew that’s what he wanted. You knew that acting out would only draw this out longer. Some days, you’d be bratty and try and get your way, but today you just wanted relief.  

He pressed his body closer to yours, enough that you could feel his excitement pressing against your rear. A hand snaked around your waist and cupped your breast. He kneaded it gently, too gently, as he breathed against your ear. Not enough friction. You needed more as you groaned against his all too light touches.  

He pinched your nipple in between his fingers suddenly, causing your knees to weaken. A moan left your lips, as his latched onto your neck, nipping and sucking against your sensitive spots.

“V...” you moaned, cursing yourself at your desperation. Heat was throbbing between your legs now, you could count your racing heartbeats from that point alone.  

“Please...” you begged in a breathy tone.  

His lips left your neck momentarily as he growled “Please what, my love? I’m going to need more than that.”

You groaned, imagining he expression he must have on his face. Somewhere between smug and flustered. You could feel his cock twitching against you, knowing fine well how much of an effect this was having on him too.

“Please...” your hesitation broke as he bit down on your shoulder. “Please either move the cane or touch me, I don’t care which! Just something!”

A moan left his throat, hearing the desperation in your voice. “That’s a good girl.” He started to move the cane forwards, then backwards again slowly, dragging it against your still clothed pussy. You moaned abruptly as it pressed against your clit, legs shaking, going weak at the knees.  

He kept this up for a torturous few more moments, pressing his hard erection against you  before hooking the head of the cane over the waistband of your trousers.

“Take them off.” Finally, you thought. You stumbled with the buckle of your belt, eyes glazed with lust and mind fuzzy with want. You eventually managed, and they dropped to the floor along with your panties. You didn’t care if that what he wanted anymore, you just needed contact.

Behind you heard the sound of trousers hitting the floor like an echo, as V mirrored your actions. His cane clattered to the floor, as his footsteps approached you once more. Eyes still to the wall you waiting impatiently for what was to follow, only hearing the sound of your breaths and heartbeat pounding in your ears.  

Suddenly, your mind went blank as you felt his hands on your hips as he pulled them towards him and delved his tongue between your folds. You moaned savagely as his fingers dug into your skin and tongue dances between your entrance and your clit. He stopped there for a moment, to draw circles with his tongue around your sensitive bud, to then drag it feverishly back to your entrance.  

“God V! You’re so good with your mouth, aah-"

He rammed his tongue into you soaking wet heat, massaging your inner walls. You were coming undone against his face. You braced yourself against the wall as you felt your legs giving in beneath you. The heat was building, pulsating from your core throughout your body. You just needed... something else.

Your hand moved from against the wall down your body.  

Just a touch, you thought as you moved your hand towards your needy clit.

You felt a hand grab your wrist before you made contact, and his face lift from your pussy. You groaned disappointingly, knowing you had pushed your luck and regretting moving instantly.  

“Tut tut.” You could hear his disapproving noises, as he stood up to lean over you, “and you were behaving oh so well for me. Such a shame.”  

He pulled your hand back up to meet the other on the wall and held them both together by your wrists with one hand.

*SMACK*

His other hand barrelled down towards your ass cheek and hit with force. You yelped in shock as he did it  again, twice more. Your eyes fell shut, already so worked up, your breathing so heavy you were going light headed. You could feel the stinging remnant of the hand that was there, your cheek blazing with heat.  

“I’m sorry. “ you managed to whimper between breaths. At this point you weren’t sure if you were apologising to him or yourself for ruining your chance at release.  

His grip on your wrists slackened for a split second, as he pushed your hip to twist you around and push you against the wall. You were now facing him, arms held above your head as he stared down at you through half lidded eyes. His lips were parted, still wet from the moisture between your legs, and his chest was rising and falling with the same intensity as yours. A jolt shot through your body at the sight.  

“V -"  

You were cut off by his lips crashing into yours. His hand let your wrists go in favour of untangling itself into your hair. The kiss was fuelled by desperation, lips parting and tongues dancing in each others mouths. Your hands now free, went straight to his face, into his hair. You ran them down his back, leaving claw mark’s as you went, dragging your nails against his pale skin as if to mark him as yours. He moaned into your mouth as he tugged your hair roughly, eliciting the same response from you.

His lips parted from yours momentarily. “You will be the death of me (Y/N).” He groaned as his hand rushed to your pussy, sliding a finger inside. Your back arched against the wall at the sudden intrusion, pushing your pelvis into his hard cock. You both moaned in unison at the contact, as he quickly inserted a second finger. He pumped them in and out at a quick pace, thumb fumbling to find your clit.

“I want to see your face when you come for me. I want to hear you scream my name. I want to be all you think about in that moment.”

He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting that sweet spot, and you saw white. Your eyes rolled back in your head, panting like your life depended on it. V's free hand curled around your waist for added support as you flung your arms around his shoulders as your legs almost gave way beneath you. His pace quickened, hitting that spot with every thrust of his fingers, his thumb pressing against your clit.

“Ahh, oh God V. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, ahh-"

This was it, you were losing your mind, focussed only on the feeling of his fingers, his thumb slid from side to side over your clit.

“Now come for me (Y/N).”  

You saw white behind your eyelids. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream as your head pressed back against the wall. The waves of pleasure came over you one after another, after another as you reached your climax. Your body spasmed against his, your legs now completely useless below you as his fingers kept dragging against your insides. You don’t know what noise left your throat at that moment, but the moan it elicited from the poet in front of you meant it must have been what he wanted.  

You hung off his shoulders for a moment, riding on the aftermath of your orgasm before your mind started dragging you back to reality, as he removed his fingers from your twitching insides. Your legs started to become stable below you and you could hear V's breath against your ear. He pressed his throbbing erection against you as he pulled your bodies together in an embrace.  

Once confident that you were stable enough, V pulled you from the wall and guided you towards the desk at the other side of the room. You stumbled through half lidded eyes as it felt like you were walking on clouds beneath your feet. Once there, he pushed you over the desk, bent over with your back to him as he lined himself up with your pussy, still sensitive from your orgasm.

You felt him press against your entrance, hands on your hips as he leaned his face closer to yours.  

“Mans desires are limited by his perceptions; none can desire what he has not perceived. Now that you have shown yourself to me, my desires are restricted to only you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he pushed his length into you, slowly and deliberately. The sigh that left V's lips made you shiver as his cock dragged against your walls until he was in to the hilt. You were more than ready for him so when he held himself there, still for a few seconds, you turned your head to lock eyes with his in bemusement.

He was gazing upon you, as if taking a mental picture, looking down through long lashes breathing slowly as a hand brushed the hair over your face behind your ear tenderly. You leaned into the tender touch wondering what was going through his mind. His cheeks were flushed and you could almost see his heart beating out of his chest. Before you could enquire his lips parted:

“I am in you and you in me, mutual in divine love.”

Another quote you thought. How fitting.

At that he dug his fingers in and started to move, taking time to move himself almost all of the way out and back in, a few long sensual strokes. You could feel every inch of him dragging and pushing against you, a feeling you had grown to love so much. In these moments, you felt whole again. Like a part of you that had been lost had been returned to you, and you savoured it. You craved that feeling, and you had always hoped V felt the same.

A sigh left his lips as his pace began to quicken. Your hands gripped the sides of the desk for leverage as he started to pound into you. His pace was feverish, yet controlled. Every movement he made was deliberate and with cause. He angled himself further above you and moved his hips closer as he pressed his cock repeatedly against that sweet spot inside of you, already so stimulated from his fingers. You moaned as you tried to push your hips into him with each thrust, to get closer to the man that brought you such pleasure. After a few powerful thrusts that left you gasping, he flipped you over onto your back, his cock never leaving you.  

You looked into his eyes and ran your fingers into his hair, pulling him towards you in a feverish kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he started his fast pace again. Your mouths both open, panting against one another’s lips, tongues dancing in the space between your mouths. You could still taste yourself on his tongue and it drove you wild.  

You pulled his chest towards yours, bodies touching, his hips slapping against yours filling the room with the wet sounds of sex. You were both sweating, panting, moaning against each others faces as you held each other close. His pace varied against hard fast thrusts and slower, more deliberate movements and he kissed you again. You could feel yourself letting go again, and guessed from his rapid breathing that he was close too.  

“Fuck V, you feel so good. I’m so close, you’re gonna make me come again. Gods, make me come again!”

He put a hand under your hip to pull you up close to him and adjusted his hips slightly.

“I would do anything for you, my love, if you ask me as politely as that.”

He dragged himself back along your inner walls and thrusted hard against you, just so his pubic bone pressed hard against your clit. You threw your head back in pleasure as he repeated this motion over and over. His hands squeezed your hips and he buried his head into your shoulder and bit down, hard.

You screamed as your climax hit you again, your body convulsing exhaustingly a second time. Your inner walls convulsed around V's cock sending him into a frenzy.

“Come inside me V!” you moaned out in between breaths.

His body jerked as he let out the sexiest moan you’d ever heard. He pushed his head into your chest as he thrusted erratically, spilling his seed into you, his cock pulsating against your insides. You signed as you felt his release, savouring the sensations of his come leaking out into you.  

You both stayed like that for a while, breathing heavily against each others chests, hearts beating erratically, your body limp under his.  

He groaned as you tapped his shoulder, signalling for him to lift his weight from your chest. He pulled himself slowly out of you, leaving you feeling empty once again and rolled over to lie next to you on the dishevelled desk.  

You turned to look at him, his cheeks flushed and a smirk on his face.

“You never know what is enough, until you know what is more than enough.” He quoted. “I fear our sessions of stress relief may have developed into something... more that I anticipated.”

You considered his words for a moment, knowing that his realisation was something you had concluded within your own mind a while ago. What started out as some fun to take your mind off the shitstorm you were currently in, had started to get more feeling behind it that you had originally anticipated.

“Is that a problem?” You replied. “Because I don’t have any issues with it being like this.” Other than Nero and Nico, right now he was all you had. And you’d be damned if the universe was going to take him away from you too.

Your hands found each other, and his fingers entwined with yours  

He turned and looked you in the eye. “I can only hope that it doesn’t become a problem. We have more than enough of those as it currently stands, and I don’t intend on you becoming one of them.”

He sat up, bringing your hand to his mouth and kissing it softly before stepping off away from the desk. He pulled you up towards him and held you against his chest.  

You didn’t question his words further, and only wondered at that point why his heart was still beating so fast while yours had calmed. You couldn’t describe the look he had on his face at that moment as he let your hand go and turned towards the stairs.

He turned to look over his shoulder at you. “I think it would be best to get ourselves cleaned up before griffon decides to make an appearance. He has a way of causing... inconvenience for us both.”

You giggled at the remark and nodded your head, following him up the stairs to the bathroom. You couldn’t help but shake the feeling deep within you that you should cherish these moments as they would be finite, but you had already promised yourself that you wouldn’t lose him as you lost Dante, and that you were willing to give everything to stop that pain happening again.

You were snapped out of your daze by a familiar voice...

“Woah V, coulda given me a bit more warning that your skinny ass would be out. That’s the last thing I need to see after being crammed away all night, geez. Hey, where’s toots?”

You darted towards the bedroom and slammed the door before Griffon caught sight of you, before letting out a giggle and crashing onto the bed.

All quotes ate works of William Blake and not my own. Check out my AO3 which is also under DaemonGal for all my writing! :D

[readbeneaththelines]

Giving Him Control Pt. 2

A/N: here's the first of many smutty mc smut smut parts!

Characters: Ravi x Reader

Warnings: Duh.. Smut

Word Count: THis i a bit longer 3263

“Well, that does sound pretty shitty, but you can do far better than him.”

Feeling brazen from the alcohol in your blood, you looked him dead in the eyes, you tongue grazing across you lower lip before pulling it between your teeth.

“I can, huh? And who is better for me?” you dared him.

“I can think of several people, but it is ultimately up to you.” he said flatly, daring you back.

You began walking to your kitchen, wanting to open the last bottle of wine in the cabinets. You reached up, standing on your tiptoes, but it was too far out of reach. You felt hot air fan across the back of your neck, warmth from a body radiating through your top, a long arm reaching over your head and taking the bottle in his grasp. You were still trapped by his body, but you had just enough room to turn around and face him. 

He bent his head down, placing another soft kiss to your head before taking a step back.

“Why do you do that? Kiss my head?”  you questioned, rubbing your hair where he kissed.

“I don’t know, I just feel like doing that to you. I guess it just seems like something I should be doing to you.” he shrugged as he started searching for the wine bottle opener. You reached around his waist, opening the counter drawer and pulling one out. When he went to take it from you, your grip tightened around it, making him look down at you.

“Y/N. let it go, now.” he was eerily calm but you knew he was serious.

You let it go, then turned to gather glasses to drink from. Just your luck, they too were out of reach.

“Ravi.”  you whined.

“Yes?”

“Can you?” you asked as he watched you struggle again with your lacking height. 

“Ask me nicely.” he teased.

“Please?” you groaned out.

“That’s more like it.”  then he reached up and grabbed two glasses from the shelf. That was when you noticed another tattoo hidden by his sleeve. You silently wondered how many he had.

You both took a seat in the middle of what was supposed to be the living room. After opening the bottle, you poured two glasses full of wine, handing one over to him. When his fingers brushed along your hand, you could have sworn there was electricity coursing in his veins. You shuddered visibly, cheeks flushing at your own body’s response. He merely chuckled at it, trying to touch you again. You tried pulling away, if only half-heartedly, but his hand followed your movements.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like me touching you?”  he said as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“It’s not that. I just am not used to so much physical contact from someone I just met. I was with the same guy for over  two years, so. I haven’t had another man touch me so often in such a short time.” you looked at the floor, embarrassed by your admission.

He appeared to be thinking seriously about something before he stood up. You watched him, wondering what he was doing. You hoped you hadn’t scared him away, since you actually sort of enjoyed his company. What he did next took you by surprise. Standing directly in front of you, he began unbuttoning his shirt. When he reached the bottom buttons, he pulled the shirt from his waistband. He never stopped looking at you, watching your every reaction. Your eyes were glued to his body. There were different tattoos covering his upper chest and covering his right shoulder. 

He slipped the shirt down off his shoulders, tugging it off from the sleeves. The right arm had a half sleeve of tattoos, the design portraying a story of some sorts. His chest was smooth, his stomach outlined by a perfect six-pack. The lines at his hips dipped to a distinct V-line below the waistband of his pants. With his shirt off, he knelt down before you, his face even with yours. His right hand reached for you, snaking around to the back of your head and tangling his fingers in your hair.

“Is this too much physical contact?”  his voice even lower.

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry and your lungs begging you to breath. You shook your head, silently telling him no. His face inched closer, his lips nearly touching yours.

“What about this?”  his hot breath warming your face.

Shaking your head again, you closed your eyes, afraid to open them for fear this was all a dream. Lifting heavy eyelids, you peered at him through your thick lashes. He was still so close, every breath he let out hitting your face. His breath was a mixture of alcohol and cinnamon. Fingers still wrapped up in your hair, he tilted his head, pulling you closer. When he kissed you, it was feather soft, lingering only long enough to tease you.

“Is that going to far?”  he whispered against your lips.

“No.” was all you could say, the sound coming out as a breathy sigh.

“Look at me. I want you to look me in the eyes.” he was commanding again, and you willingly obliged. 

You opened your eyes, looking him dead on.

Slide your shirt off. Slowly.”

Again, you obeyed. Taking the hem of your top, you lifted it over your head, taking your time. Dropping it beside you, you returned your gaze to his. He looked you over, his eyes falling on the rise and fall of your breasts as your breathed heavily. You were wearing a black satin and lace bralette, the trim barely covering your now hard buds.

“I’m going to touch you now.  Put your hands on your head and don’t move them.”

You lifted your hands, interlacing your fingers before putting them on the back of your head. He took his free hand and traced the trim of the bra. Goosebumps formed on your skin were his fingertips trailed. He dipped his finger down the valley of your breasts, then tracing it up the other side. You let your head fall backwards, his right hand still supporting it. 

“Keep looking at me, I didn’t say you could look away.” his tone firm and serious.

Your head snapped back up, your eyes fluttering open as you looked at him once more. He continued to tease your flesh, tracing his fingers over your shoulder and down the back of your arm. He gripped your upper arm firmly, the pressure somewhere between pleasure and pain. You were sure there would be bruises from how tight he was holding you, but you didn’t care.

Leaning back on his haunches, he pulled you up to your knees. His hands splayed across your stomach, the heat radiating from his hand felt like fire on your skin. Your ex never touched you the way Ravi was, so intimately, so painstakingly sensual. 

“Undo your pants, but don’t take them off.”

You reached for the button on your pants, working it undone with one hand. Then your hand went back to your head.

“Good. You remembered..”  his smile growing as he watched you.

You simply nodded in response. You remained on your knees, your chest almost bare and you pants hanging loosely on your hips. His free hand stretched to the trim of your satin and lace black panties. Coming to rest his hand on your hips, he squeezed your flesh again. You drew a deep breath in, exhaling slowly. 

Suddenly your skin was cool, the pressure of his hand suddenly gone. His fingers untangled from your hair, the strands falling down your back. You looked at him quizzically, wanting to know why he stopped this delicious torture.  He ran a hand down his face, a heavy sigh escaping his lungs.

“What did I do?” you asked, sounding as if you were on the verge of tears.

“Nothing. I just can’t do this to you.”

“Why not? I did everything you said. I thought you knew I wanted to do this.”, you could feel the tears building behind your lids.

“I just can’t. Your drunk and I want you to be fully aware and coherent enough to do what I say.”  he sounded defeated.

You reached for his face. He shrunk back, his eyes going wide at your movement. You dropped your hand to your side, your head hung low. He quickly rose to his feet, grabbing your shirt first and handing it to you. He then proceeded to put his shirt back on, avoiding you as he buttoned it back up.

The sob that escaped your chest made him turn and look down at you, still on your knees and half undressed. His expression fell, a frown forming on his face. He started to reach for you, then hesitated as you let out another cry. He dropped to his knees, lifting your head to look at him. Wet eyes were looking back at him.

“Why don’t you want me? What did I do or not do?”  you cried out.

“I never said I didn’t want you. I said I want you sober and clear headed so you can agree to what I ask you to do. Like this, I can’t guarantee that you are fully aware of what your doing.”

“I did everything you asked, I wanted to do those things. Does that not show you I know what I’m doing?”

“You are doing them because you are drunk and lonely. I want you to do them because you want to, even when you aren’t lonely and needing a man’s touch, any man’s touch.”

He rose back to his feet, turning on his heels to head for the door. Without thinking, you were on your feet, running to him and grabbing his arm. You used all your strength, spinning him around. Turning him too hard, you stumbled back. He reached for you, taking hold of your hand and jerking you back up. Tears still streaming down your face, you stood on your tiptoes to get as close to even with him as you could.

“I don’t need a man’s touch, even though I haven’t been touched by any man in over four months. My ex stopping touching me, I guess when he started sleeping with my ex-roommate, and we stopped having sex. But that doesn’t mean I need you to touch me. I wanted you to touch me, I wanted to touch you. I know exactly what I am doing.” you yelled in his face.

“You can’t touch me unless I give you permission. I can only touch you, anywhere I want, anytime I want. I need you to do what I say, no matter what. I need you to want me to control you. I want you, trust me I do, but what I want is complicated.” his face was soft, his eyes looking between you and the floor.

You reached for the buttons of his shirt, stopping long enough for him to remove your hand. He inhaled sharply, holding his breath for a moment before letting it out long and slow. You undid the first button, being careful not to touch his bare skin, then you went to then next button and so on, always hyper aware that you couldn’t touch his skin. Once it was fully unbuttoned, you took the collar in your hands carefully sliding it off. Stepping back, you let his muscles relax and allowed his breathing to return to normal. He was staring at you, a hint of fear and desire mixed together.

You placed your hands back on your head, continuing to stay in your place. He took a step towards you, hands reaching for your wrists. Pulling them to your side, he spun you around, walking you backwards until your back hit the wall. He placed your hands above your head, pressing his body into you. He leaned down, crushing his lips to yours, his tongue running along your bottom lip in a silent plea. You parted them, giving him permission to kiss you fully. He moaned into the kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You went limp, his hands keeping you upright. You could feel him getting harder by the second, your hips pressing forward to give your pelvis some sort of contact with his. 

Putting your wrists in one of his hands, the free hand felt for the waist of your pants, pushing them down. They fell easily to the floor, pooling at your feet. You stepped out of them, kicking them somewhere to the side. He then placed his hand on your clothed core, fingers teasing you as they pulled them to the side. You were already dripping wet from earlier, his long thin finger sliding inside you easily. He hooked it, instantly finding your G-spot. You moaned deeply, the sound bringing a smirk to his lips.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, it’s going against my rules.” he uttered between kissing you hard and pleasuring you.

“You can stop any time you want, but I don’t think you really want to stop.”  you said against his lips.

Your head fell back, hitting the wall with a thud. The torture he was dealing you was making your head swim. Your knees were becoming weak, shaking as they supported you. He let your hands go, trusting you to keeps them where they were. When you didn’t move, he pulled at his belt, loosening it before undoing his pants. He fumbled as he tried to pull them down, when you dropped one hand to take hold of the waistband. You were careful to not touch him, his body becoming tense as you helped him undress. Once they fell down, he quickly relaxed again. You lifted your hands back over your head, leaving them ready for him to hold them again. He lifted your legs, wrapping them around his waist. Sliding your panties to the side, he lined his cock with your entrance, filling you with a single hard thrust. You wanted to grab his shoulders, give yourself something to hold on to. Sensing your need, he raised his hands, interlacing his fingers with yours. You leaned back, pushing your hips to meet his thrusts. He bit down on your neck, groaning onto your skin. The force of him pushing deep inside of you, made your legs tense around his waist, keeping him deep within. 

One hand let you go as it went to your ass, holding you for support. Taking one of your hands, he guided it behind you as he stepped away from the wall. Instantly your free hand went to your back to join the other hand, letting him know he could trust you not to touch him. While he was fully sheathed inside, he walked to the middle of the room. Kneeling slowly, he laid you back following you down. He released the hand behind your back, allowing you to get comfortable. 

Can I touch you, please?”  you pleaded.

“Only my back and arms.”  he answered between the thrusts.

You grabbed his upper arm, digging your nails into his muscles. You could feel your orgasm building deep in your gut, your fleshy wet walls clenching hard around him. He rammed into you faster and harder, holding your leg up for a deeper angle. Your back arched off the floor, your walls twitching and gripping his cock hard as your orgasm tore through you. Your release triggered his own, his seed coating you inside. He collapsed onto you, your smaller frame supporting his larger one. 

No matter how badly you wanted to touch his face, you kept yourself restrained. You touched his arm gently, seeing how he would react. When he lifted his head, he placed his forehead on yours, his rapid breathing returning to a normal rate. He opened his eyes to look at you. He looked scared, like he was afraid of what just happened. 

“What’s wrong?”  you asked hesitantly.

“I  just broke my first rule, but I have never had a woman make me lose my resolve so quickly. You are dangerous for me. Amazingly dangerous.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Lifting his head, he nodded. Rolling off of you, he grabbed his shirt, reaching between your legs to clean you up, before cleaning himself off. He laid back on the floor, rubbing his temples. You felt hurt, hearing him admit that you were dangerous for him and he considered that a bad thing.

Rolling onto your side, you put your back to him. You refused to cry in front of him again. You felt his hand pull at your waist, trying to turn you over.

“You can leave if I am dangerous and bad for you. You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be fin you stated.

“Y/N, please. Just because I said you were dangerous for me, I didn’t mean what just happened was bad. This is why I need you to be clear-headed, so I can explain things to you. I want you to understand because I want to be with you, but under my rules, and with you willing to follow those rules.”

You turned over slowly, facing him. You wanted to understand what he was saying, because honestly you wanted to be with him even with whatever those rules might be.  You knew he didn’t like being touched, unless he told you when or where. You also knew he liked being in control, the way he talked proved that. You laid there, waiting for him to speak again.

“Why don’t you sleep on it? We can talk tomorrow and you can hear me out.”

“I don’t think my mind will change between tonight and tomorrow. I have pretty much made up my mind.”  you were watching his eyes, trying to read his expression.

“Being pretty much sure leaves room for doubt, Y/N. Wait for me to tell you everything, then you can decide.” his affect was flat, almost too flat.

Simply nodding your head, you agreed to hear what he had to say. You kept looking at him, trying to decide if you wanted to ask him to stay, but he spoke first.

“Your coming home with me tonight. I’m not leaving you here in this bare apartment by yourself while your drunk.” he sat up, helping you sit up as well.

“I can stay here. I’m ok with sleeping on the floor until I get a new bed.” you said as you looked around your place.

“I don’t think you understood me. I said your coming home with me. It isn’t up for debate. I have plenty of room at my place, and then we can talk first thing in the morning.”, he rose to his feet, holding his hand out for you.

Reaching up, you took the offered hand and pulled up to your feet. You went to your bedroom and packed a few clothes for tonight and tomorrow. He stood in the doorway, watching you get ready. He was internally scolding himself for breaking his number one rule, but something about you intrigued him. You were confident, spoke your mind, and your body… Well if you agreed to his conditions, that body would be worth breaking the rules for this once. But, he wanted more that just your body, he honestly wanted to figure out what made you tick. He promised not to let himself get caught up in you, that was the mistake that made him the way he was now.

@maxinaptak @seoulsunshineandstories @aspaceformyself @xjamlessparkx @hoodmeup @beautifulseoulliar @kwonnansi

[pleasantlyshamelesswizard]

You know better than to tease me like that

"I'll see ya later tonight darlin'. I hate leaving ya alone like this. 'Specially cos it's been a while since we spent any real time together."

Jordan said with regret as he pulled Victoria into a bear hug and kissed her goodbye.

"Nah, I get it. You promised Finn you'd be at the performance center. I'd have tagged along too, if only I couldn't still feel Sasha's knees in my lower back." Victoria complained, flinching as she recalled her grueling match from the night before.

"How bout I give ya a massage when I get back? Help ya relax a little." Jordan suggested.

Victoria smiled and nodded her head.

"Sounds like plan."

"Alright sweetheart, see ya later." Jordan said again and gave her one last kiss before heading out the door.

Victoria felt strangely bereft once Jordan was gone. She found herself feeling this way more often in recent times. She just missed him terribly when he wasn't around.

It was odd, she thought. She always prided herself on how well she was able to do by herself relationship - wise. For her, having a man wasn't the be all and end all of everything and  if she found herself in a relationship even as good as her current one, none of that would change.

"Who am I kidding? This man is ruining me in all the right ways and... I like it." She said to herself, oh so quietly.

The entire day had gone by and Jordan still hadn't returned. It was close to midnight and Victoria was feeling sleepy so she got ready for bed. Just after brushing her teeth she received text from him apologizing for being gone for so long and that he would be home in ten minutes.

A smile spread across her face as she suddenly had an idea, one that would probably get her into trouble. She hoped.

                        ____________________

Victoria plopped herself down onto the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of satin shorts.

She heard Jordan unlocking the door and coming in.

"Only me, Darlin'!" he yelled. "Sorry I'm late!"

She giggled mischievously as she heard his footsteps coming toward the bedroom.

She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.

"Babe? You in - oh....." Jordan said when he walked in and saw Victoria cuddled up with a pillow, seemingly fast asleep. He stood there for a moment, just admiring her. The way her hair fell over her face, her bare back and the shorts that barely covered anything. He loved it when she was like this.

He quickly removed his clothes and joined her on the bed and pulled her close so her back was flush with his chest.

Eyes still closed, Victoria smiled and began pushing and rubbing herself against Jordan, sighing, rolling away from him then close to him again, rolling onto her stomach, sighing sleepily again all while Jordan tried to ignore the raging erection he'd gotten from Victoria's supposedly innocent actions.

"V, be still, come on." He whispered, so as not to wake her. She continued her teasing until Jordan became mildly annoyed and - SMACK!!

His  palm landed on her behind.

Victoria gasped. He'd never done that to her before. Sure, she'd fantasized about it many times, wondering what it'd be like.

She rubbed her thighs together trying to gather herself but Jordan was onto her. He flipped her over and positioned himself above her.

"So you weren't really asleep... You were teasing me?" He husked, eyes growing dark with lust.

Victoria could feel herself getting wetter by the second. "Jordan, I -"

He silenced her with a savage kiss while hooking a finger at the waist band of her shorts and yanking it right off. He then pressed two fingers to her folds and hummed appreciatively before breaking the kiss and saying "So my sweet little songbird gets turned on by a bit of spanking... Kinky."

Jordan then started sliding his fingers in and out of Victoria, causing gasps and moans to escape her body.

She felt drunk.. Drunk on just him and what he was doing to her.

"Oh, God... Jordan..." She moaned.

Jordan withdrew his fingers and smirked at Victoria. She propped herself up on her elbows and gaped at him, thunderstruck.

"So is this some kind of punishment? You're not going to finish me off?" She questioned, rubbing her thighs together again. Oh, how she needed him. And he knew it.

Jordan licked his fingers, savoring the taste of V's arousal and smirked at her again.

"Oh, darlin'... I'm not just gunna finish you off.. I'm about to completely and utterly wreck you. Da entire neighborhood is gunna know my name."

Victoria barely had time to react and he was already above her again, putting his lips on hers then forcing her mouth open and began dipping his tongue in and out her mouth.

Jordan slid two fingers into her opening once more, in and out he went, curling his fingers, uncurling them before slowly massaging her clit. The sensation was so intense that Victoria arched her back and curled her toes, trying desperately find some release but Jordan wasn't having it for he withdrew his fingers again then whispered in her ear "Ya don't cum until I say ya can my love, understand?"

Victoria was a mess and her reply was nothing more than a wimper. It felt so good. He felt so good.

"Jordan, please...." She mewled..

"No darlin'... Dis is what ya get... Ya know better than to tease me like dat."

And with that, his face was between her legs. He left light, feathery kisses on her inner thighs before his tongue darted out and he started licking and sucking on her sensitive bud.

" Oh.. FUCK!!! " Victoria cursed as Jordan picked up the pace.

She started feeling the pressure in her lower abdomen.

"I'm... So, ah, I'm so close."

Jordan didn't respond but he kept torturing her with his mouth until she couldn't take any more and just let her pleasure erupt all through her body.

Jordan never stopped, he kept it up, giving Victoria orgasm after orgsam until he finally came up for air. He stood at the foot of the bed, stark naked and still fully aroused.

"Was dat good babe?" His tone was cocky and Victoria loved it. He knew he made her feel good.

She nodded her head yes, still coming down from her little high.

"Well, I'm not done with ya yet my love."  He said, beckoning her towards him.

Confused, she stood up, swaying slightly before walking to him.

He cupped her face and kissed her again, letting her taste a bit of herself on his lips, he then turned her around so she faced the full length mirror that was mounted on the wall and walked her toward it.

Standing behind Victoria, Jordan ran his hands up and down her body, taking the time to feel all the dips and curves. He then took her hands and placed them on either side of the mirror frame, put  her hair to the side and kissed her shoulder.

"You're good an ready fer me now, aren't ya babe?" He growled, rubbing his beard against her skin.

"Jordan... Please..." Victoria begged again. She didn't want him to tease her any more. She needed him inside her.

Jordan took hold of V's hips and slowly sank into her, hissing as he did so, reveling in how she felt around him.

"Jesus V, how're ya still so fuckin tight... Shit."

He put an arm next to hers, beside the frame to get some leverage and slowly started thrusting in and out of her.

Victoria inhaled sharply as he buried himself in her.

"Fuck... Oh God... FUCK YES!!!"

Her head began to spin again, feeling closer to the edge each time Jordan thrust forward and hit her sweet spot.

"Look at you my love, look how fuckin' sexy y'are takin' my cock.."  He said, forcing Victoria to look at their reflections. What a sight it was. Her with her messy hair, flushed skin and swollen lips.

And Jordan, partially hidden from view but she caught glimpses of his muscles, glistening with sweat.

" Babe... Harder... Please..." Victoria panted.

"As you want love.." Jordan husked.

He put an arm around Victoria's waist, holding her close and slammed into her.

"Aarrgh... Ya feel so good around me V, ah, fuck."

He continued slamming into her warm wetness, eliciting genuine screams from her.

He rammed into her at a relentless pace and began stroking her clit, increasing the pressure.

Jordan thrusted so hard that Victoria was pinned to the mirror, gasping at the sensation of the cold glass on her bare skin and the sensation of of Jordan's length hitting ger g-spot each time.

Jordan grunted with each sloppy thrust, circling V's swollen bud rapidly.

She was done for. Her orgasm wracked through her body, sending shockwaves throughout her system and after a few more thrusts, Jordan followed, groaning and uttering curses in Victoria's ear. She felt rope after rope of his cum inside her.

They both were downright out of breath. Victoria was leaning against the mirror, too spent to stand on her own.

"I've got ya love, c'mere." Jordan said, lifting her in a gentleman's style and carrying her to the bed. After putting her down Jordan quickly made his way to the bathroom and came back with a cloth. "Let's get ya cleaned up."

"Well, that was a particularly fantastic session." Jordan said, smiling at Victoria as he plopped down onto the bed.

"You're ruining me, Devlin. I don't know how I can stand being away from you when you do what you do to me. It gets harder every time."

"That a bad thing love?" he questioned, wiping at Victoria's inner thighs.

"See, at first I thought it was but now... No. I like it." She said truthfully.

Jordan beamed at her. It was that smile that drove her completely insane. The one that reached his eyes. He moved closer to Victoria and pulled her close to him and rubbed her back soothingly.

"I like it too darlin' being so... Lost in you. It's hard not to be, really. Ya drive me crazy woman."

Victoria chuckled. "Well then I guess it's okay to continue happily ruining each other, right?"

"Indeed." Jordan said sleepily. "Love you darlin'"

"Love you more."

And as they usually did after a romp like the one they just had, they drifted off into blissful sleep.

Ok ya'll... It's done... Finally!!! Lol

@demonkingsangel @laura-devitt @gothicninibalor @jellybelly30 @shieldgirl18 @crossfitjesusismyhomeboy and also @cosmicak and @meremaidqueen

Hope you guys like it.

[myxcenterxstage]

Meta: Priscilla's Motivation in Survival Mode ... and a whole lotta analysis

Author’s Note: This meta is primarily focused on v: Sail On, but can also reflect her character motivation in other verses.

TLDR; just jump to part 3 for the survival mode motivation stuff. But parts 1 & 2 help it make more impactful sense.

Part 1: A Character Analysis Pre-Franklin Expedition

So, let’s first take a quick look at Priscilla’s “Prologue” - her life growing up under the guardianship of her Uncle Charles Kimbleton.

Priscilla’s personality is slightly different in her verse v: Sail On. SLIGHTLY. She’s still her kind, buoyant and quirky self, but she’s also a lot more badass. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty and isn’t interested in her debutante ceremony or who she’s going to marry. Nope. In this verse, Priscilla’s free-spirited “Wild Child” side is more prominent with her insatiable sense of wanderlust, wanting nothing more than to indulge her obsession with exploring the world as her Uncle Charles’ second-in-command and record their discoveries as a Natural Historian.

She imagines herself as the heroine of her own story she’s going to write about someday, or at least tag along for a grand adventure with like-minded people until she can accomplish that.

Besides v: Sail On being a great high seas & survival story, I like to think it has an underlying coming of age aspect where Priscilla comes into her own, because, granted, she’s a mess of contradictions.  

She’s afraid of commitment and marriage… but she’s a hopeless romantic.

She’s a bit of a rebel to Victorian stereotypes… but she’s so self-conscience of what others perceive of her even if she claims she doesn’t care.

She’s independent… but is so vulnerable and impressionable and wants to be rescued by a hero that’ll sweep her off her feet.

She knows who she is and what she wants… but keeps seeking validation from others.

She’s insightful and a delight to be around and sometimes wiser beyond her years… but is emotionally immature and has a track record of recklessly foolish & impulsive decisions.

She has the courage to stand up to always do the right thing… but when she’s faced with a challenge she runs away from it.

Do you see where I’m getting at?

(I guess you could leave it as she’s a complex character… or I’m still trying to fully grasp her personality as an OC. I’d love some feedback on these ‘contradictions’!)

Part 2: The Aftermath of Uncle Charles’ Disappearance

So, Uncle Charles. He doesn’t physically appear in this verse per se, but boy does he remain an indirect main character.

No matter where in the world they were, Uncle Charles was Priscilla’s ‘home’. He was her bodyguard, her mentor, her storyteller, her shoulder to cry on, and most importantly her conscience to curb her foolishness as she was still growing up. The Kimbleton family isn’t exactly small, but Charles was by far the most genuine. Charles wasn’t just an uncle - he loved and cherished Pris as though she was his own daughter. (Since Charles was a widower who never remarried, I think that’s why Priscilla maybe even learned to cope with grief in this verse surprisingly well all thanks to him too.)

Uncle Charles was certainly one of the biggest influences in Priscilla’s life, and who encouraged her curiosity and scientific obsessions contrary to other relatives who wanted to repress it in favor of her becoming the stereotypical Victorian house-wife.

Unfortunately, Charles was also someone she lost at all too dependable a time. And it was probably a bigger catastrophe than whatever happened to her parents that brought her into Charles’ custody to begin with. Everything that represented her sense of security was ripped away from her, and she was left with a void she didn’t know how to fill.

Even at the urging of her other relatives, she refused to host - or attend - the funeral held in honor of Charles years after his disappearance. Maybe, just maybe, he would come back. Maybe, even against all odds.

But she didn’t know. What was closure? A part of her didn’t even want to believe he was gone.

And now without him, she became an open target of vulnerability.

This also begins a new, very prominent flaw in Priscilla’s character: her strong sense of denial and running away from her problems given the quickest opportunity. Left to her own devices Priscilla tries to hold on to every good thing her Uncle raised her with, all while struggling to cope with loss and fend off her inevitable foolishness.

{{ Insert Backstory & Priscilla’s Scandal Here }}

Part 3: Franklin Expedition Disaster & Survival ::  From glory... to desperation… to reality.

Okay NOW. Finally to the part we’ve all been waiting for!! THIS is what I had the Eureka for earlier that started this whole meta to begin with!!

So, fast forward to Priscilla running away from scandal and boarding the HMS Terror. She feels she struck gold by being able to follow her dream and her “running away from home” paid off. Fast forward again from the new friendships Priscilla makes and secret crushes and buds of platonic cuteness and everything happy in Baffin Bay etc.

Fast forward again to Priscilla hearing Sir John’s announcement about them sailing straight into the ice pack since they’re so ‘close’. Fast forward again through Priscilla’s impression of Sir John unraveling once they’re stuck in the ice.

At that moment, nothing was more terrifying than the great unknown to Priscilla. She had no place to run.

Parts of her personality she didn’t know existed came out after the ships were stuck in that ice:

Bitterness. Anxiousness. Volatility. Fragility. Restlessness. Fear.

Beneath her thin veneer of mandatory bravery and blind desire to wish things could turn for the better was a mess of emotions she was so desperately trying to suppress. Almost overnight she picked up random nervous habits. Outbursts of skittish laughter, speaking her mind out of place, trivial chatter, zoning out. Sporadic enough to not be of concern, but noticeable to those who knew her well. And all the while she had this gnawing sense of jitteriness to always do something amidst constantly feeling so helpless.

As the tragedy continues, she grows quieter - her radiance dimmer. Her optimism that was fueled by denial slowly comes crashing down into the reality of the frightening dark caverns of her own mind. Writhing in bitterness over Sir John’s hubris that sentenced them all to death, she had begun to realize that she too perhaps had made an impulsively reckless mistake to volunteer herself to begin with.

And once the Tuunbaq attacks begun, she quickly realized they had no place to hide either.

So there was only one option left: she had to fight to survive.

And this, my friends, is when the lioness was awoken. While her struggle between the solace of denial (which still fueled her optimism outside of a genuinely happy moment) was ever-present, and her blind wishful thinking might have helped her to not cripple under from the stress… when backed against the wall of brutal truth she was beginning to realize she had no choice but to unavoidably reckon with herself, which was long overdue. Admit their predicament for what it was, admit her decisions and behavior as a runaway was foolish, admit her feelings of lostness in a cruel world, and admit even though she was not strong enough to face London’s gossip of her she never should have acted so rashly with herself in retaliation. (Let alone other things she may or may not have done on the voyage... to be determined)

But at least in this dead end, she wasn’t doomed to navigating it alone.

After losing her only family, she had gained a new one on this expedition. 129 new family members to be exact, regardless of how well or little she knew them. No matter how many lives she grieved each passing week, she wouldn’t have wanted to trade anything to not know those she especially held dear. And collectively they all shared one supportive notion in common: They needed to survive.

And then, after a burdensome night when she had hit an emotional breaking point and poor medicinal side effects induced a fevered outbreak where she was delusionally mistaking Captain Crozier for her Uncle Charles… the following sober morning she came to an unexpected realization.

Call it the beginnings of madness from the lead poisoning, or her desperation to hold on to whatever threads of hope she possibly could, but a new question of ‘what if?’ became her new obsession:

What if Uncle Charles was in fact still alive? Just like them?

Somewhere, someplace - it felt almost tangibly real to her. The years of disappearing from the face of the earth and civilization - and yet still not dead.

Thus, her own independent motivation to survive against all odds in these Arctic conditions emerged. It fueled the promise she made to her new friends that they’d press on. Ignited the motivation lent her by others. She found a new purpose: not for only herself in the end, but for those who mattered to her. 

And if Charles had the strength to survive wherever he was all this time - then she would do the same. And maybe, just maybe if in these years her Uncle returned home - just like Priscilla knew they could eventually, someday - she would want nothing more than to live so she could run into his loving arms once again.

Come what may, she would march on. She wanted to live. To survive. To love. And most of all, she wanted to make sure her new family would too.

[lost-forever-in-thought]

Sober Up! Pokemon OC X CANON STORY

WARNING: This is an OC x Canon story in the slightest of ways, though it doesn’t show blatant, overly lovey dovey love. This, instead, shows the interactions between two kids who are in love with each other, but don’t know it yet because they’re both too shy and just don’t know what love is in general. This story does not have an official ending, more or less left on a cliffhanger or something like that, but if you guys actually do like this bullcrap I guess that I could do the ending to it if you’d like.. This is not the official ship for the oc or canon character, I’m not saying that it is, I’m just trying to have a little bit of fun with writing it and just writing in general, because their personality traits combine in a good and nice™ way and I have a lot of fun writing shipping stories and writing in general.  Actually, this is more or less just inserting my oc as the protag. Keep this in mind when reading the story, and if you don’t like these types of stories than this is not something that I suggest you reading. Tina is inserted into the place of Moon, if it doesn’t become obvious during the story events, however her personality, backstory before Alola, and everything else has much differences to Moon. Just warning you of this now.

WARNING NUMBER 2: This is a song story, aka based on a song obviously. The song is Sober Up by AJR. Here’s a link to the song on Youtube to listen to so that you can get the whole effect of the story instead of a small bit. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DC_TrsY7U3A

Ages: Tina (15)

Lillie (14, but nearly 15)

Hau (14, but nearly 15)

Gladion: (15, but almost 16)

With all of that said, let’s get into the story!

Please don’t ridicule me for destroying your ships or something, because I’m not trying to. This literally isn’t even canon for my character, and it is just a story for practice and fun.  Any rude comments will be heckin deleted cause I don’t need  none of that toxic shit in my life.

Important thing to know when reading this story: Young love is subtle, easily broken, and fragile. The reason of this is that it’s incredibly new. Real, true love is a new feeling to most teenagers, which means it takes a long time to get used to and fully recognize. Feelings may be subtle and show in such a way, like hand holding, gentle cuddling, a bunch of hugs, maybe a special kiss when the time is right, but they are incredibly powerful and still there regardless. Most teenagers won’t show the affection that adults show, but their feelings are still completely there and the same. A lot of young lovers risk everything for the ones they love, even if it means going to complete EXTREMES, due to them not knowing love much yet.

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Hello, hello. I’m not where I’m supposed to be. I hope that you’re missing me, ‘cause it makes me feel young.

The waves crashed against the shore of the beach, the moon lit up in the sky putting off it’s bright but much needed light. Sitting on the shore was a young trainer who most knew as Tina. She sat there, her legs crossed as she made basically no noise. The beach was completely empty, except for maybe a few Pokemon who were also silent. The ideal place for thinking. Of course, Tina was deep in thought with all the help from the quiet beach, ignoring all of the world that had been around her. She was naturally an introvert, so more often than not being alone in silence was a simple thing for her and more often than not she prefered it. However, this time it was a somber silence. It was the anniversary of the day that Lillie had left for Kanto 3 years ago. Tina let out a gentle sigh as the memories came back to her in waves of emotion. She closed her eyes as she thought of the adventure they had gone on together, a thick feeling of nostalgia around her heart and some unidentifiable other feeling as well.

Hello, hello. Last time I saw your face was recess in second grade, and it made me feel young.

Tina remembered when she was only 12 and how much she had been crying once Lillie’s boat had been out of sight. It took Hau and Kukui a bunch of time to calm her down even though she had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry, almost an hour just when she was on the docks. However, when they finally got her to stop for a bit and took her home, the crying just got worse at her house as she held the doll that Lillie had given her. Lillie was her closest friend, one of the only people who gave her friendship a chance when she first got to Alola other than Hau. She wasn’t a popular kid in Kanto, quite the opposite, she was a loser, a geek, whatever they called her. However, Lillie didn’t care about whatever Tina had been in Kanto, it was only what she was in Alola. It was more than Tina could have ever asked for. However, now the memory of the closest friend she had haunted her. However, it was for a reason different than the friendship.

Won’t you help me sober up? Growing up it made me numb, and I want to feel something again.

The thoughts swirled in the young trainer’s head about how many mistakes she had made while in the friendship. Stupid jokes, misspoken words, lies that didn’t need to be there due to them being pointless, all the little mistakes that she felt that she could have changed with just a few different actions. However, the worst one was her confidence. She had such low confidence and self esteem for herself, and she indefinitely felt that she was bombarding her friends with how bad her confidence was, even though she knew that she definitely hadn’t been due to them always saying so. It made her feel secretly more empty, though she wouldn’t tell that to anyone, especially Lillie. It was worse as she grew up, hardly anyone there for a shoulder for the young girl to cry on without her being scared that they would leave her behind like all her so called ‘friends’ in Kanto did, and she ended up having nothing left. She put all her trust in Lillie, and now that she was in Kanto and the girl was too scared to talk to her in the first place, well it was hard to know the young trainer’s feelings.

Won’t you help me sober up? All the big kids, they got drunk, and I want to feel something again. Won’t you help me feel something again? How’s it go again?

Tina got up, something falling out of her bag. It was an old looking postcard, maybe two years old, which for postcard times was pretty old. She picked it up, inspecting it in her hands like it was some sort of artifact that nobody had seen for 100 years. The postcard was from Kanto, sent with a neatly written note from Lillie on the back. What had been on the back of the letter was faded, Tina was too scared to read what Lillie had sent in the first place two years ago, so it basically sat in her bag doing absolutely nothing. That was one thing Tina was too much of, scared. She had the confidence to take on such powerful Pokemon and even infiltrate the Aether Foundation to save Lillie, but when it came to smaller things like making friends, or reading notes when people hadn’t been around for a while, well, it made her scared. She put the letter back in her bag, frowning a bit as she had. She hadn’t seen Lillie in THREE years. A lot changes in three years. Tina went from a measly 4,9 to at least an above average 5,4, that’s one change. However, her looks hadn’t changed that much, but she was sure that Lillie wouldn’t like her changed personality. What if though..What if she could test that? Tina knew why her mom said no to her going to Kanto with Lillie three years ago, she was only 12, but maybe now that she was incredibly close to being an adult her mother would possibly say yes. She got up from the beach, dusting off the sand from her clothes and starting to run back to her house.

”Goodbye, goodbye.” I said to my bestest buds. We said that we’d keep in touch, and we did our best.

Meanwhile in Kanto it had been almost lunch time. The hours in Kanto were a bit behind compared to the hours in Alola, since it was nearly 10 at night in Alola and only 12 in the morning in Kanto. Lillie looked at her phone, looking at the messages she had sent back and forth with her friends. It was hard to get in touch with them a lot of the time. When Lillie was on for longer periods of time, Tina was sleeping because she slept in the day instead of the night, and when Tina was on for longer periods of time, Lillie was sleeping. They’d sometimes stay up for each other, but it would be incredibly difficult on the both of them. Hau was a complete mess to get in contact with, literally any of the time. He was either sleeping, lost his phone and had to get a new number, destroyed his phone, anything. Hau was not good with technology, maybe outside of the Rotom Dex. As much as the boy had liked to talk, he only sent Lillie a message maybe once in a while. The person that got into the most contact with Lillie was Gladion, and it was even rare to hear from him because he really didn’t like to talk to anyone most of the time. Lillie was surprised as she got a message on her phone with a familiar tone showing that the message had come. The special sound for the message was ‘Michael Makes an Entrance!’ from Be More Chill. It was obvious that the message was from Tina.

‘Lillie, my buddy, how’s it hangin’? Was lunch bangin’?’ Tina made another Be More Chill reference on the message, which made Lillie sort of giggle. Lillie knew that the girl was probably one of the biggest musical nerd out there, but only for more popular, relatable musicals. The blonde haired girl replied to the message, glad she was finally able to talk with her best friend.

All of my new friends, we smile at party time, but soon we forget to smile at anything else.

Lillie had made a few new friends in Kanto, but not as many as she had made in Alola, and they weren’t as impactful as the ones in Alola either. Still, it made the time in Kanto a bit better for her as well when she was trying to help her mother heal. Another huge helper when she was in Kanto were her Pokemon. In 3 years she had become an incredibly powerful trainer while in Kanto, having gotten to the toppest of the charts and even beating the champion, however she gave up the champion spot since her real home had been in Alola instead of Kanto. Lusamine was doing much better, though still healing. The neurotoxins had gotten her real critically, though she was healing at a good pace. Lillie always tried to smile through all the bad things that were happening, even if they really, really hurt her in ways that were difficult to describe.

Won’t you help me sober up? Growing up, it made me numb, and I want to feel something again.

The blonde haired trainer continued to talk to Tina until she had to leave. Usually Tina had to get off at 3 in the morning, because that was when she went to bed. It was about 5 o’clock for Lillie, so not that late, and often when she had to do things, so it was hard to get into contact with her friends. She wished that she would be able to see them more often. Tina came with Hau every year for at least 3 days, but that wasn’t nearly enough. So little time and so much to say, it just didn’t work. Lillie had experienced that over three years ago, though she never announced the way that she had. She started to remember the fun times that the group had together, but also the bad times. She missed it all.

Won’t you help me sober up? All the big kids they got drunk, and I want to feel something again. Won’t you help me feel something again? How’s it go again? How’s it go again?

Lillie heard the familiar ping of a message from Tina go off. Wait, why would Tina be replying this late? It was almost 6 in the morning in Alola by the time she had sent this message, way too early for her to normally be awake. Curiously, the blonde haired girl picked up the phone. The message said a quick and sort of odd question.

‘Are you still in Celadon City?’

Lillie was confused as to why Tina would ask a question like this out of the blue. Of course, she still was in Celadon. She had been staying in the same town for the past few years. She replied to Tina.

‘Yes, I am.’

Another reply came soon after, saying it’s normal and unique ringtone.

‘Cool.’

Lillie looked at the message for a few seconds, a blank look coming to her face at the strange reply and the even stranger question that came before the reply. What just happened?

My favorite color is you. You’re vibrating out my frequency. My favorite color is you. You keep me young and that’s how I wanna be. My favorite color is you. You’re vibrating out my frequency. My favorite color is you. You keep me young and that’s how I wanna be.

Tina had gotten the okay from her mother, after ranting for almost an hour and a half why she would be fine if she were to go to Kanto on her own, and how she wouldn’t even be on her own in the first place. Her mother was convinced about 5 minutes into the whole entire rant, her daughter had put up some good points, but she listened to her daughter ranting anyways. She enjoyed listening to it, because it showed how much she really did care about all of this. The emotions of Tina were usually subdued, quiet and never coming out, she went with everything that happened and supported those around her actions, even if they would actually hurt her. However, now her emotions were on full display, coming out to the only other person she trusted with her emotions other than Lillie. Honestly, the teen looked a lot more calm when she finally let out her emotions and thoughts, she hadn’t looked as calm as she looked in that moment in a long, long time.

When her mother said that it would be okay, Tina seemed to have started to cry in happiness. Even if it was just a few weak tears, it was incredibly powerful for her. She hugged her mother before going an packing her bag. She got the quickest tickets that she possibly could, even though they were hella expensive. She almost missed her boat, if she hadn’t started to run before it had a chance to pull away then she definitely would have missed it. She stood near the rail of the boat, taking off her hat so that the wind could properly flow through her short, curly, unruly hair. She was finally on her way, on her way to stay. She felt a sense of glee in her heart, one she felt like she hadn’t felt in a while in places other than amusement parks or rollercoasters. Yes, that’s how she could explain her emotions right now, like an amazing, fast, thrill filled rollercoaster, and she was excited for it. She let the salty wind blow in her face as a gentle grin came across it. Her olive green eyes reflected with the rising sun.

Hello, hello. I’m not where I’m supposed to be. I hope that you’re missing me, cause it makes me feel young.

Tina had fallen asleep on the boat, since the ride had taken a good 6 hours. That was all the sleep that she was going to need for today, the excitement in her body was like a battery that lasted forever and she couldn’t fall asleep due to it. She got off the boat and she found herself calling out her Tauros and running on it to get to Celadon City. She hadn’t told Lillie that she had been coming to Kanto, in fact she had only told her mom that she was coming to Kanto. She was lucky that Kanto had been so close, so that she would be able to go back and forth from Kanto to Alola whenever she needed. She knew that Lillie wasn’t able to leave for long periods of time due to her mom needing the help, but that didn’t make an excuse for herself. Tina found herself near Celadon City a lot quicker than she had thought it would take. Last year it seemed longer, or it could have just been that Tina was much, much smaller and everything seemed to take a bit longer to get to due to it. She had to think of what she was going to say. What was she going to say? She randomly came to Kanto for no reason, out of the blue, hardly warning anyone that she had been going. She didn’t even know why she came here, just something told her to do so. For once, she decided to follow her instincts.

Hello, hello. Last time I saw your face, was recess in second grade, and it made me feel young.

Tina took a deep breath as she prepared herself for what she was about to do. She didn’t know why it was so hard to do this time. Lillie had been her best friend since she was 11 years old, over 4 years at this point. It was easy every single other time she went to go see Lillie, but something had changed in the past year. The young trainer couldn’t identify the feeling, but it was this warm feeling that went around her heart like a warm blanket. She would have to ask her mother what the feeling was when she finally went home, but that wasn’t important right now. She jumped off of the Tauros, calling it back to it’s Pokeball so that she would be able to walk on her own into Celadon. She decided that it would be better to just make this a casual confrontation, since they were usually casual in the first place. She walked until she found herself standing in front of the apartment where Lillie and her mother stayed. Tina took out her phone and texted Lillie once more.

And I want to feel something again, I just want to feel something again. How’s it go again?

Lillie heard the ringtone again. It was 12 in Kanto, a normal time for Tina to be awake. However, the message she got was strange.

‘Come outside, there’s something that you should see in Kanto.’

Lillie was a surprisingly curious person, so of course she went outside to go check what Tina wanted her to see. She had to go down some steps, so it took her a little while, but when she saw what Tina wanted her to see she had frozen in place. It WAS Tina. The both of them started to stare at each other. First Lillie’s eyes got watery, and then it was Tina’s turn.

Won’t you help me sober up? Growing up, it made me numb, and I wanna feel something again (my favorite color is you). Won’t you help me sober up? All the big kids, they got drunk, and I want to feel something again (my favorite color is you). Won’t you help me feel something again (my favorite color is you)? Can I finally feel something again?

Tina and Lillie ran to each other, immediately gripping each other in a hug like they always did when they met up again. However, this time there was a strange new feeling included in the hug. It didn’t matter to either of them though, they didn’t notice it. The two teenagers were just glad to see each other again. They let anyone who might have been watching watch them, they didn’t much care. Lillie was curious on how Tina had gotten here so quick, but she didn’t want to ask, she just wanted to enjoy the hug they were in. Tina was the first one to release from the hug, wiping the tears that had formed away from her eyes. Lillie was a bit slower in letting go of the hug, but eventually she did so as well. Tina stared directly into Lillie’s eyes, and Lillie stared directly into hers. It was like Tina’s heart had exploded or something, but in a good way, if it could be described like that. No, that’s the only way she could describe it. They continued to stare into each other’s eyes. Gentle smiles appeared on the both of their faces as they were able to share this brand new feeling together without even knowing. All of time fell away around them.

How’s it go again?

[steampunkedseahorse]

Chapter 4 Zuko’s birthday

When he heard Katara was here he has planned to corner her and grill her with questions until she answered why she had left the palace without saying goodbye. Why she had lied to him, she had written to him saying she had family business in the south pole. He didn’t receive another letter for 10 months, letting him know that she was alive but that was about it. He’d only received a few letters after that where nothing was distinctive. He had wanted to fly to the south pole but everyone had discouraged it. All he had to keep him warm at night was the thought of her in his bed. His mind wandered back to their first night.

2 years ago

Zuko stumbled out of the warm room and onto the chilly terrace, it as is birthday and his friends were doing everything they could to get the fire lord in good spirits. As tonight was their last night there they were doing everything they could. He had told them that Mae had left him only a week earlier they decreed she wasn’t good enough for him anyway. As he placed one foot in front of the of the other a 21-year-old Zuko was thoroughly drunk. He saw Katara leaning against the wall trying to get the same fresh air he was.  She was beautiful, her long hair cascading down nearly reaching her bottom. She had turned to him and he realized she was not nearly as drunk as him.

“Zuko…” She reached out to him he took her hand and leaned against the wall. Her long blue robe slipping off her shoulder, he ached to reach out and pull it all the way down. To reveal her beautiful tan skin, he wanted to kiss it all over. She looked up at him as he straightened. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer her with words, instead, he descended upon her mouth and tasted the water bender that had haunted his dreams for years. She had leaned into him, her soft breasts he found weren’t bound as normal.  One hand racked through his combed hair, the other slid inside his robe. He pulled her closer to him one hand on the back of her head as he drank her in. He wasn’t thinking and every rational thought told him to back off of the beautiful woman. Instinct urged him forward. She murmured gently against his lips, “You’re drunk Zuko.” He didn’t care. He was finally touching her the way he wanted to for years. “Zuko...” He felt the conflict in her, he knew he was drunk he didn’t care.

He pulled away slightly. “Don’t take away what little courage I had to build up and drink to come do this.” Still, her hesitation made him wonder if she felt the same way. “I want to.” She whispered. “But you’re drunk.”

“Not so drunk that I cannot recognize you, that I don’t know exactly what I want.” He bent his head to kiss her again. He felt her smile against his mouth and reached toward him, her fingers deftly untied the knot of his pants and slipped into them. Her grip was soft as she stroked his member. “My room or yours?” He asked as he pulled himself from her lips.

“Yours is closer.” She stroked faster and he gave a low groan then grabbed her hand. She looked confused until he picked her up and found his way into his room, avoiding their friends. His heart pounded in his chest, she was here in his arms clinging to him.

He placed her on his massive bed. Agni, he had wanted to this, fantasized about it for years. “Are you sure Waterbender?” He asked, sobered by her touch and the smell of her need.

“Yes,” She breathed out as he pulled off his robe, exposing defined muscle. His pants still hung loosely on his hips giving her a perfect view of the V on his body. He closed what little distance they had between them and pulled down the shoulder of her robe. He kissed the exposed flesh and she sucked in a breath. Settling down on top of her he slowly began to disrobe her, thanking Agni for the hot summer as she wore no bindings or pants beneath the robe.

Finally, she lay under him exposed and naked for him to view. Her long hair fanned out from behind her.  “Have you ever done this?”

“No.” She said looking up at him with her great big blue eyes. That made him happy and kissed her again. Working his way down her body, he kissed the hollow of her throat, her breastbone then he had taken her nipple into his mouth. Her soft moan was all the encouragement he needed. He teased the dark brown bud in his mouth until it stood erect. He repeated the process on her other nipple and was rewarded with her soft whimpering. Still, he worked lower, kissing her belly, her navel, sliding off the bed he spread her thighs and kissed her on her sex. Her body writhed under his ministrations as he quickly found her woman’s bud and licked and nipped until she was panting. He stopped just short of bringing her off the edge standing.

“Zuko!” She looked at him as he slid off his pants, her eyes had gone wide as he resettled himself between her legs. “I’m not done.” He positioned the head of his member at her slick entrance but didn’t push forward. Instead, he found her woman’s bud again and with the pad of his thumb rubbed in slow circles.  He could tell she was ready for him but he wanted to savor this. Slowly he began rocking back and forth easing his member into her. His thumb circled faster the deeper he went. Katara’s back arched as she neared orgasm, finally, she screamed her release and Zuko felt the tearing of her hymen and kept pushing until he was fully seated. He waited for her to return back to this realm before he began moving again.  Her body was hot, wet and tight he gritted his teeth determined not to finish the moment too soon.

He slid in and out of her slowly at first for her to accommodate his size. Then she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer. “Zuko…” and he understood the plea in her voice. Gripping a fist full of her hair Zuko quickened his pace. He controlled himself by focusing on the texture of her soft curly hair.  Her warm soft body contracting around him as he pumped in and out of her sheath. Her hands found their way to his back pulling him closer still. Zuko pulled the fist-full of hair forcing her to turn her head and give access to her neck. He bit softly between the curve of her neck and shoulder, needing more control. She returned the favor in full biting him hard on his shoulder. A spike of pleasure shot through him, could it be he had found a woman who had the same dark desires as he did? He continued his pace until she released his shoulder to cry out his name in ecstasy until her muscles around his flesh attempted to seize his movement. His pace quickened plunging his member in and out of her tight body until his lower back tightened and his own orgasm burst from him. He softly kissed her forehead, cheeks, and lips as he withdrew from her body. He rolled over on the bed and for the first time in a long time had felt truly happy. Zuko had awoken the next morning to find Katara still in his bed.  And snuggled against him.

 The memory ran through his head a thousand times as Zuko paced the length of his room not feeling the plush carpet under his feet. They had spent a month together, one very interesting and memorable month together, he still remembered the taste of her lips on his. Like a fire sweet bun, once he had tasted her everything else fell flat in comparison. He’d told her so. So why did she leave?

Zuko found his feet turning toward the adjoining door that would let him into her room. He would get answers while she was here. His mouth was in a firm line and he twisted the doorknob to let himself in, he cracked it when he heard Suki and Katara speaking.

“I don’t know but your son is over a year old now, he is starting to look just like his Dad.” Suki was saying. Katara had a child? Was it his? No certainly not, Katara would never keep something like that from him. Anger flared in him, was that why she left? So, she could be with the father of her child, who was the father. He would kill the unnamed man. Zuko would never admit it but the undercurrent of hurt and jealousy ripped through him.  He turned back to the conversation.

“I want to see him,” Katara said

“Of course! Let me rinse your hair first.” He heard the Katara get out of the water and shut the door. Her son was here. Why did Suki have him? What the bloody hell was going on. Did Sokka know the child was his sisters? Zuko turned and walked out of his suite. He needed some air after hearing that conversation. The halls were oddly quiet and Zuko walked unencumbered for the first time in years. He walked to the courtyard where the sages were examining the girl that had attacked Katara, Aang stood above them. The avatar turned and saw Zuko coming toward them. “Is this the girl?”

“Yes,” Aang answered.

“She’s just a kid.” He said looking down at the girl. Her short black hair and yellow eyes marked her as fire nation. “Do not let Katara see her. Find out who her parents are, find out if they are Ozi Loyalists. I want to know who convinced a child to stab the Lady Katara and then kill herself.” He was shouting and didn’t realize it. Only the Avatar stood unfazed by the anger, he’d been the source of it for many years.  The small fires around the courtyard blazing out of control. Soldiers and sages backed away from their Lord and quickly scurried to do his bidding. “Aang, find Toph. If they attacked Katara they could be after her as well.”

Aang nodded then, “Katara’s okay then?”

“The sages are examining the poison now. She is clean and seems to be taking it in stride.” He left out the part where she had come apart in his arms.  Aang kicked at the ground under them. “Before I take off I want to know if you’re going to do it this time.”

“Do what?” Zuko grit out, trying to get his temper under control. Trying to remember what Aang was talking about.

“Give it to her.”  Zuko knew exactly what Aang was talking about but refused to play the part. She had secrets and he needed answers, “Look I know Katara and I have a history but I promise that’s all done now. She’s like my big sister.”

“Find Toph.” He said to Aang then walked out of the courtyard.  How could he now? She had had another man’s child. Did she even love him? Did he still love her? He heard the Avatar take off on his glider. He turned and a saw a child about the height of his knee waddling at full force toward him. Katara was chasing him. “Kazza! Pants!” She was chasings after him in clean clothes and still slightly damp hair. The sunlight catching it giving it an undercurrent of red. Just like the morning after when she had smiled at him. Yes, he decided, he still loved her.

“No!” The child screamed happily. Zuko scooped him up. Was this the child in question?

“Thanks, Zuko, Suki wanted me to get him dressed.” She smiled at him and he saw the lie there. He looked at the boy, he was paler than Katara and had one blue and one yellow eye. His black hair was soft and wavy much like his mothers. Kazza reached out to his tiny hands and grabbed Zuko’s hair. The boy smiled showing his teeth. Then the distinct smell of burning hair met Zuko’s nose. “Kazza!” Katara squeaked. Zuko pulled what was left of his hair from the boy who only giggled at Zuko.  The boy playful tried to grab at Zuko’s face.

“This is Sokka and Suki’s child?”

“Adopted …but yes…” Katara said.

“A fire bender and a someone from the water tribe?”, what were the chances of that happening, then Suki adopting the child? None he realized.

“It’s not unheard of.” She snapped.

“Katara….” He needed to figure out how old the child was.

[real-life-pine-tree]

Leo Will Never Know: Surviving a New World (10/?)

In an alternate timeline, Yugi indirectly prevented the events of Arc-V from ever happening. But how could this small change have an impact on a few selected people? A spin-off of the Arc-V Aftermath series. Based on the hilarious comic by @justanotherotakuandartist​​​​. Co-written with @violetganache42​​​​​.

Back in the Spirit World, night had fallen across the sandy terrain and the three suns were replaced with a single full moon that was like the on back on Earth. There hasn’t been a single Duel Monster ever since the Harpie Lady Sisters got destroyed, so it was safe to go outside for now. It still doesn‘t mean it was going to be a pleasant experience for everyone, unfortunately; even though a small campfire was lit on one of the school’s structures, the dread still lingered, as heard from a mix of whimpers and sobs.

An annoyed Chazz demanded, “There’s no crying at Duel Academy, so cool it, will ya?”

“We’re sorry, boss,” Ojama Yellow answered. “We’re just getting used to gravity is all.”

“And there are monsters out there,” Ojama Green added.

“That’s right. Real, big, scary, mean monsters,” Ojama Black agreed.

“Hello? You guys are monsters,” Chazz retorted.

Ojama Yellow laughed nervously a little because they were being somewhat hypocritical. “Oh, yeah. Good point, boss,” he said.

“Now let’s see if the three of you can still fly!” Chazz shouted, dealing a blow which sent all three Ojamas off of the building. They all fell onto the dunes, landing on a spot near where Syrus, Alexis, and Hassleberry were standing.

“This really stinks. What if it stays like this forever?” Syrus asked, sounding a bit worried. “Is this really how it’s all gonna end for us?”

“Don’t worry, private,” Hassleberry responded. “There’s probably a rescue team comin’ here right now.”

Alexis simply glanced up at the sky, lost in her thoughts; although she heard what they were talking about, she could tell it would be practically impossible for a standard rescue team to search for them.  In her mind, she wondered, But where’s here?

At that moment, Ray showed up with Hope Dragon Flower. "Are you guys hungry?" she asked.

"A little," Syrus complained "But Dorothy said we only have a week's worth of food and water."

"I think I can help with that," Ray said. "Hope Dragon Flower, care to show off your special trick?"

"Of course, mistress," Hope Dragon Flower replied.

A pink aura surrounded the floral dragon’s body, indicating she was activating her special ability. The flowers on her body reacted to the glowing as they drank the energy the aura possessed and their petals curled outwards and sprouted open far wide. When the glowing coat dissipated, its reminants stayed behind in the now fully-bloomed flowers, ranging from roses, hibiscuses, and tulips to violets, lilacs, and irises. It felt like there was an endless variety of the floral plants draping all over Hope Dragon Flower. Normally, this would only occur when utilizing one of her effects during duels, but Ray had just discovered not too long ago there was actually more to it than she initially thought.

She told Hassleberry, Alexis, and Syrus to take any flower they like, so the three walked up to the dragon and picked off three of them. Thanks to the ability’s energy coursing through her, the three flowers that were removed started to bud and bloom again; of course, that was only just the beginning. Ray signaled the three to go ahead and eat the plants they were holding, adding a reminder to pull the petals off to obtain the best flavor. Syrus was the first to try out how edible the flowers were, taking a petal from a red rose and putting it in his mouth; a few seconds in and he was left mesmerized at how delicious it was. Alexis and Hassleberry grew more curious and decided to consume a couple petals from their pink lily and marigold respectively. They also relished in the delicacies with each bite they took. Ray explained she discovered her Hope Dragon’s trick back at the infirmary and how all these flowers have an excellent amount of filling in them, which helped her regain some of her stamina because the lack of food was one of the contributors to her fatigue from earlier.

"So your dragon can supply us with food?" Hassleberry asked.

"She can," Ray confirmed. "Even if we run out of food at the academy, Hope Dragon Flower can produce edible flowers for everyone. I also spoke to Bastion earlier and he told me how he was able to use Water Dragon to stay hydrated. Now we can explore this world without running out of food and water."

"Your Hope Dragons sure are amazing," Syrus praised. "Is there anything they can't do?"

"Well other than function in the real world, nope," Ray jokingly replied.

Back inside, a Duel Disk blade popped out and the Graveyard compartment opened up, resulting in a red light to glow. Very shortly after that, a deck of Duel Monsters cards were placed in the Main Deck slot. It was revealed to be Jim, who was arming himself with his deck in case more threats occur and was accompanied by Jesse as they walked down the hallways.

“Hey, is Adrian okay?” Jesse asked.

“Yeah,” Jim answered. “Miss Fontaine patched him good as new. After a good night’s rest, he’ll be right as right.”

“Hope so,” Jesse said. “Hey, does that croc ever get heavy?”

Meanwhile, at the library, it was still darkened and closed for the time being, which was a perfect time to see how the demon arm has been doing… But wait a minute. Where was the arm? The canister is now completely empty albeit the orange bubbly liquid. This was not going to be good for Adrian, and speak of the devil, he arrived at the library and found the capsule armless, baffling him.

“Huh?” He ran to the table where he left the capsule to get a closer inspection. The arm’s not in there, he thought with a scowl on his face. Where could you have gone? Did someone come in here and take you while I was away? I got to get you back here. He turned around and began running in the opposite direction, initiating his search with one more thought in mind: We had a deal.

He dashed down the stairs where he came up from, headed to his right, and passed the bookcases before reaching the exit. While scurrying down the halls, he continued thinking, I have to find it ‘cause if I don’t, everything would have been for nothing. It owes me.

As for some of the other students, they were all hiding away in the classroom with white blankets covering their entire bodies and leaving their faces uncovered. They were clearly scared and some of their complaints consisting of but not limited to how long they will be stuck away from the island, not wanting to be in this dimension, how scary it is, and wanting to see their mother made it more evident. Among the huddled crowd was Blair and her newfound friend Marcel Bonaparte; there were a few hiccups here and there upon their first meeting at the start of the year, but there were signs showing it was smoothing out…at least for now.

Not too far away from them, the orange ghostly spirit of Viper’s deceased son Pierre skipped down the halls, ready to begin a plan of its own. “I’m sensing a dark soul that will serve me well,” it ominously said. “I feel I’m getting closer. You can’t hide from me. No one can.” The demonic spirit stopped skipping and looked up to sense the source of the dark energy this soul presents. It rose up from the ground and soared to a nearby classroom door.

“He’s here,” it presumed. “I’m sure of it.”

"Hey, um... Marcel?" Blair asked.

"Yes, Blair?" Marcel replied as he lifted up his blanket.

"Will you, uh..." Blair blushed. "Will you come take a walk with me?"

"Where?" Marcel wondered.

"Just...down the hall," Blair answered.

"Don't worry," Marcel reassured as he and Blair left the classroom. "I had to go to dez twilet as well. At least there won't be a line."

"You're so funny," Blair complimented with a small laugh. "Got any other jokes?"

"Sure," Marcel answered. "Knock, knock."

"Who's there?" a nearby voice responded.

Meanwhile, back in Nurse Fontaine's office, Jaden had a hard time sleeping. As Winged Kuriboh cuddled up to him, he sat up in his bed. "Axel?" he asked. "You awake over there?"

Axel glanced at Jaden. "Oh good, you're awake," the Slifer Red student noticed. "Couldn't sleep, huh? I just wanted to say, what you did back there in the lab was really cool. So I owe you one, pal."

"You're welcome, Jaden," Axel replied. "Now get some sleep."

Before Jaden could get a chance to lie back down, Winged Kuriboh woke up and flew out of the bed. He had this strange feeling that something amiss is going on.

“What’s up?” Jaden asked. “Is something wrong?”

All of a sudden, there were two overlapping screams echoing not far from the nurse’s office; one was a boy and the other was a girl. Axel shot up from the bed as the screams subsided and asked, “Did you hear that?”

Jaden nodded in response and added, “Let’s go!”

The duo climbed out of their beds, with Axel heading for the side and Jaden dashing to the bottom to get his shoes. He wanted to stay behind at the infirmary to make sure Ray, Bastion, and Adrian would be fine by tomorrow but with the alert of a new danger, he needed to make sure whoever screamed will be healed up for as long as it will take. Once his shoes were on, he aimed for the door that leads out into the hallway to follow Axel.

As the door slid open, Axel turned to his right to find the source of where the screams came from. “This way,” he instructed Jaden.

With them now out of Fonda’s office, they dashed down the halls to see if any of the students that led out the loud screams got hurt. Surprisingly, in what felt like no time at all, they both caught up with Jesse and Jim.

"Hold up!" Jaden called out.

"Jaden!" Jesse remarked, glad to see his friend. "So you guys heard it too?"

"What, are you kidding me?" Jaden asked in response. "I think the whole academy heard that!"

"We better move it," Axel instructed.

"Right," Jaden agreed.

When the group turned around the corner, they were in for a surprising sight. "It's Blair!" Jaden exclaimed. "What happened?" He picked her up. "Blair, wake up..."

Blair groaned as she opened her eyes. "Jaden.." she weakly said. "It took him... It took Marcel... I tried to stop it, but...it scratched me with this gross-looking hand..."

"What do you mean 'it'?" Jaden asked. "What was it, Blair?"

"Look at that," Axel said as he lifted Blair's arm. "It scratched her. I tell you, I've never seen a scratch like that."

"Blair, hang in there," Jaden advised. "Ms. Fontaine will know how to fix this right up."

"Take her, and we'll go look for Marcel," Jesse said. "Sound good?"

"Alright," Jim agreed.

After everyone else agreed, they all parted in opposite directions; Axel, Jesse, and Jim continued their search to see where Marcel could be while Jaden strayed further away from the trio to heading back to the nurse’s office. He ran as fast as he could as he carried an unconscious Blair in his arms and an anxious Winged Kuriboh floated by to see how severe the peculiar, demonic wound was. In the approximately same amount of time to find her, questions have already flooded Jaden’s mind. I wonder if what attacked Blair is the same thing that attacked Viper on the platform? But why Blair and Marcel? And what’s with that wound?

Jaden inspected the state she was recently stuck in, knowing this wasn’t a natural injury, but hopefully something can be done to make it better. “We’re almost there,” he assured. “Just try to hang on.”

Elsewhere, a forbidding atmosphere was slowly budding in the darkened interior of the library. There was no source of light except for two candleholders on their individual small shelf, carrying three candlesticks each with newly lit flames flickering within the dense shadows. Their combined luminosity unveiled an elevated portion of the floor containing a table with six chairs around it and a throne where Marcel was seen sitting on; however, he had a more eerie appearance as shown by his spikier hair, a grayish-brown cape, and a more menacing glare from his eyes as he stared down onto the floor.

“Who’s in here?” a familiar voice interrogated.

He didn’t glanced up to see a figure of a cloaked Duelist walking up to him, noticing the unnerving change in the library before stopping to see who was sitting in front of him. “Aren’t you that kid Marcel?” he asked.

“Not anymore,” “Marcel” answered as his upper eyelids lowered. He moved his left arm from underneath his cape and rested it on top of the armchair to show him it has been completely corrupted by the recognizable demonic arm in addition to a distorted voice that took over his French accent. “Surprise,” he simply added.

Adrian gasped at this bold move the demon took. “But… I thought we had a deal,” he said before pointing directly at its vessel. “You promised to share your power with me! But now it looks like you got yourself a new plan, so what gives?!”

“Nothing has changed, Adrian. You have my word,” “Marcel” remarked as he stood up, still retaining his dark, evil grin and stare, which made Adrian a bit uncomfortable. “I can still give you the power you desire.” He raised his demonic left arm and made a gesture with his hand that suggests they should reach an agreement. “All I require is that you follow my every command,” he continued, with his voice becoming distorted again.

Adrian didn’t have a response to this per se; everything he heard the demon say rendered him speechless. Everything about its possession over Marcel, from the creepy tweaks to his hair, face, and attire to the transitioning deformity of his voice, was rather unsettling. At the same time, it sounded like it was a entity of its word. All it did was find a temporary host to use until it was satisfied with the results of whatever it has in mind, then it can move on to helping him achieve his personal goals, but…will it all be worth it for him?

Meanwhile, the other students were in line for food. Aside from the academy-provided meals Dorothy was handing out, there was also edible flowers provided by Hope Dragon Flower.

"It's chow time, everybody!" Hassleberry announced.

"Okay guys, come and get it!" Syrus announced. He handed a tray containing bread and a bottle water to Chazz. "Enjoy."

"'Enjoy'?!" Chazz repeated. "This ain't food!"

"It's all we have," Syrus explained.

"Hey Chazz, can we have some?" Ojama Yellow asked.

Chazz groaned. "Ever since you guys became real, all you are is hungry! Go ask them!"

"Sorry, you three," Alexis said. "But we have to ration our food, so you'll have to ask Hope Dragon Flower."

Next to the table containing the rations of bread and bottled water was another line forming for the floral treats provided by Ray and Hope Dragon Flower. After giving them out to her friends as a snack last night, she figured the whole school could use some of the flowers, and once Bastion feels better and gets cleaned up, he’ll join up with her and provide more amble supplies of water from his Water Dragon. The Ojama trio have heard about Hope Dragon Flower’s ability and how it can be used for survival purposes, so them falling down to the ground was good timing on their part; at least they don’t have to eat Chazz’s loaf of bread.

“Come on! Hurry up!”

Chazz turned his head to see three impatient Ra Yellow students standing behind him. The yelling came from the one in the middle, who had shaved brown hair, small, circular glasses, and a voice that sounds strangely and exactly identical to the protagonist of an easily recognizable and iconic ‘90s shonen action anime.

“It’s our turn! We got to eat too!” he continued.

Chazz simply turned away from them, much to their disdain. “We’re starving,” the grayish-brunette student added.

“Now move it, buddy!” the spectacled student demaned.

"Be quiet!" Dorothy spoke up. "We're all here together, so we can't run out of supplies. I hope you understand, but we don't even have enough food for Pharaoh." She noticed the cat nuzzling up against her leg. "No matter how he tries to butter me up."

Meanwhile, in Nurse Fontaine's office, Blair was sleeping peacefully. Thanks to Hope Dragon Bird's feathers and large wings, she provided a proper cushion for the Slifer Red Student.

"I'm worried about Blair," Bastion said. "The school doesn't have the proper resources to treat her. We must get back to our world before her condition worsens. I'm sure a real hospital would be more than capable of helping her."

"You're right," Jaden agreed. "But at least Ray let her borrow Hope Dragon Bird."

Blair stirred in her sleep, causing Hope Dragon Bird to nuzzle her. "I am glad to provide assistance to this young human girl," the dragon spoke up. "Any friend of my mistress is a friend of mine. However, I do not provide the proper healing supplies she needs, so I all I can do is make sure she is properly rested."

"You mustn't worry," Bastion advised. "It's clear that Blair appreciates your help."

"But there's gotta be something we can do," Jaden said. "Right, Ms. Fontaine?"

"Unfortunately we've run out of the medicine we need," Ms. Fontaine reported. She gave Jaden a small list. "Now unless you know where to find a first aid kit with all these medications, Blair's condition will only worsen."

Jaden looked at the list. "That's a pretty long list," he commented.

"Did she say 'first aid kit'?" Bastion checked. "The submarine! I saw one stranded in the desert. It must have a first aid kit on board!"

"You think Crowler will let us go?" Jaden wondered.

"Probably not," Bastion pointed out. "We better ask Ray to accompany us. Surely Crowler will let us go if she's with us."

Sure enough, he was right. Because she was one of his favorite students, there was no way Crowler wouldn’t let them go off in the desert on their own; besides, since there was a year difference between Ray, Jaden, and their friends’ ages, she is more than capable of being their chaperone.

"I see..." Crowler said once Jaden finished explaining. "Well as long as Ms. Akaba is accompanying you, I don't see a problem." He looked over at Ray. "But are you sure about this? Two of your dragons are currently busy."

"It's alright," Ray replied. "I still have Hope Dragon Wind and Hope Dragon Moon. I can duel with just them."

"Very well," Crowler decided. "Just make sure everyone comes back in one piece."

“Don’t worry,” Axel reassured. “If I’m with them, nothing’s gonna happen.”

“You got that right, mate,” Jim concurred. “You see, Axel and I have both recently taken dueling in the desert, one-on-one." He looked over at Axel. "Now show 'em what else we've got."

Axel took out some notebooks. "Student notebooks?" Syrus asked.

"Correct," Axel confirmed. "But once we've reconfigure their hard drives, we can use the notebooks as if they were global positioning homing beacons. Which will help guide us back to Duel Academy."

"Just don't take too long," Crowler advised. "It's bad enough the vice chancellor is fretting over one of the student's disappearance. I don't want any more students vanishing."

"It's alright, Dr. Crowler," Ray replied. "I'm sure we'll all make it back in one piece."

Moments later, the students departed the Academy and split up into two groups to carry out their mission. Jaden, Jesse, Ray, Axel, and Jim were all geared up and near the sandy dunes whereas Hassleberry, Syrus, Chazz, and Alexis were closer to the Academy’s entrance.

“So here’s the game plan: we’ll look for the first-aid kid and you guys guard Duel Academy,” Jaden proposed.

“Sure,” Chazz acknowledged. “If trouble comes looking for us, me and my Ojamas will handle it. Right?”

The Ojama trio cowered behind their boss, grabbing a hold on either his shoulder or resting on top of his spiky, black hair and whimpering out of fear. Unlike what usually happens when they tend to get like this, Chazz raised both eyebrows and had a surprised expression as his reaction; he should’ve seen that coming.

“I’m going with you, Jaden,” Adrian declared as he walked towards the group setting out to find the submarine.

“Okay, but I thought that you were hurt,” Jaden recalled.

“I’m feeling much better,” Adrian informed. “Plus, after Ray saved me from that Harpie, it’s the least I can do to say thanks.”

“Cool. Sounds good,” Jaden replied before turning his head to see Jesse. “We should head out.”

“Yeah,” Jesse responded as he nodded in agreement. “Let’s go find us a submarine.”

“You got it,” Adrian stated.

“Chazz, good luck,” Jaden encouraged.

“Luck is for losers,” Chazz retorted.

“See ya,” Hassleberry and Syrus both said, which was followed with the former giving some quick advice. “Duel first. Ask questions later.”

With all said and done, Jaden, Jesse, Ray, Axel, Adrian, and Jim all set out back into the sandy terrains in search of the submarine Bastion saw; given the path he took when they found him reuniting with the Duel Academy alumni, it would hopefully give them some kind of clue as to where it would be. Wherever it is, the first aid kit was absolutely essential if they wanted to patch up Blair’s abnormal scratch wound and bring her fever down. There’s no telling what will happen to her if her condition worsens.

Shortly after they initiated their expedition, Adrian went back into his thoughts again, determined to make sure the others don’t find out about his true colors. This excursion is providing the perfect cover for me to find that sub and cover my tracks ‘cause if these guys find out about that card I’m after, my plans could be in serious jeopardy, he internally monologued while turning around to look back at the Academy. And I can keep him happy by watching Jaden’s every move.

On top of the school’s structures, the demon-possessed Marcel was standing behind one of the walls, peeking on Adrian as the six students trailed further and further away. Everything was going according to plan. “Watch them well, Adrian. You work for me, now,” he commanded in a low voice so that no one hears him. He moved the attached demon arm out of his cloak and angled it at around 90 degrees, causing it to mutate it appearance. Bone-like features ingrained within its composition surfaced on top and expanded outward to form a custom Duel Disk that looked nothing like the ones made by KaibaCorp or the ones at Duel Academy.

“Now to send Jaden a little welcoming present,” “Marcel” schemed with his mouth forming an evil smirk and his voice sounding distorted once again. He took out a card and placed it onto one of his Monster Zones, reading it with a briefly lit green light.

"What now?" Jesse asked after a bit of wandering around.

"Well Jess," Jaden replied. "Since our Duel Monsters are real, I thought we'd just fly to the sub."

"I can take it from here," Ray said as she took out two cards from her deck. "I don't want any of your monsters to get involved in accidental duels."

"You sure?" Jesse asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Ray insisted. "My Hope Dragons should be big enough to fly us over there." She activated her Duel Disk and put her cards on it. "Come on out, Hope Dragon Wind and Hope Dragon Moon!"

The sky increased in brightness for a short time, enveloping the three suns as trails of lunar energy soared from over the horizon and flowed to where Ray was standing. It may be daytime where they are right now, but somewhere within the Duel Monsters dimension, it is already night because the moon never leaves the atmosphere. At the same time, gusts of winter winds sailed across the land and blew from below her feet, forming large tornadic spirals around her that sent smalls chills up her spine. The combination of the lunar energy and the winter winds condensed into one glowing white sphere with a windy atmosphere, almost like Neptune, until it imploded on itself and bursted out cold air coated with stars and snowflakes. As the smoke cleared, Hope Dragons Wind and Moon hovered side by side in the spot where the sphere once was.

"You want us to use your dragons as transportation?" Adrian asked.

"Aw, don't worry about it," Hope Dragon Wind reassured as she and Hope Dragon Moon knelt down. "We can carry all of you with ease."

"But please slow down, sister," Hope Dragon Moon advised as Ray climbed onto her clawed hand. "You tend to be a speedy flyer."

"Geez, I know!" Hope Dragon Wind. "I know better than to fly my usual way with humans on my back!"

"Come on, you two," Ray said. "We can worry about that later. Time to find that sub!"

[sugarlips-jensen]

The Yielding

Author: @sugarlips-jensen Word Count: 3,810 Pairing: Dean x Reader Warning(s): Unprotected sex, kitchen sex, mild cursing. (I can’t think of any others, so if you can let me know) A/N: So this wasn’t a request, but it was the only thing that I felt like I could properly write. I promise to try and get to more requests soon!

Four Months Ago

Every time you packed up to leave somewhere, you got stuck staring at that damn red duffle bag. Whether it was from a motel stay on a hunt, or a trip to a fellow hunter’s house, you’d stand there, staring at the faded maroon canvas, twisting the black handle in your fingers. It was part of being a hunter, but it never failed to send a pang of sadness through you, staring at the small bag and knowing that, other than your weapons, everything you’d ever owned was stuffed into the bag. There was no home to return to, with pictures on the walls or shelves of books. No kitchen pans that you made dinner in, no television with a collection of your favorite movies downloaded on it. 

That was the only thing you could truly envy the Winchester’s for. They’d been to hell, and fought monsters you’d only heard legends of. They’d died, and watched their loved ones die. But at the end of the hunt, they had a home to return to. 

The knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. Shaking your head, you started toward the door when another knock followed the first. Instantly, goosebumps rose on your arms, and a twist of heat curled low in your stomach. Now, truly hearing the knock, you knew it was Dean. Sam knocked softly, as if he was worried to bother you, but you couldn’t call what Dean did a knock; he banged his fist against the door with all his strength. 

Breathless, you swung the door open a little too eagerly, barely managing to suppress the smile that wanted to spread across your face. 

Whatever breath was left in your lungs fled when you got a good look at Dean. It was the same reaction every time, as if you hadn’t spent the last six weeks living with him. But, damn you to hell, he was just that: breathtaking. Especially when he hadn’t shaved for the last few days, and a healthy amount of scruff now shaded his jaw, framing that absolutely sinful, full mouth of his. Then there was his throat, that you had dreamt about licking, and nipping, and tasting…

Dean cleared his throat, snapping your attention away from his throat. You could feel your skin heating, the flush rising up your neck and onto your cheeks, but you’d had years of practice hiding embarrassment. Your eyes rose to meet his, determined not to show that you were at all ashamed, only to find that he was just as affected as you; his pupils blown wide and dark, his skin flushed. A smirk spread across your lips, and you arched an eyebrow at him. The grin he returned was wolfish and full of masculine sensuality.

But that grin faded as he looked over your shoulder and saw your duffle bag sitting on the end of the bed. Your own smile faded as well, as you watched his reaction to realizing you were leaving. After six weeks of living with Sam and Dean while your broken leg healed, the simple lust you’d felt for him before was stronger than ever, but there was more than lust there now, too. 

A small, barely noticeable frown, and a furrow of his brows was the only sign that he was upset about your departure. That is, until his eyes snapped back to yours, bright and blazing, and he said one word; one word that somehow changed everything. “Stay.”

-

Months. It had gone on for months. The heated glances across the car, the accidental brushes against each other bodies in the tight hallways of the bunker. Moaning each others names late at night, when neither of you could stop the craving for the other, and all you knew was that he was right there, just a wall away, naked and wanting you just as badly. 

You and Dean couldn’t stop. But you also couldn’t go. And, God, you wanted to go. Both of you craved the other so badly it was physically painful at times, but neither was willing to admit that - to admit defeat.

Mornings were the hardest. It wasn’t necessarily that you were a morning person, Dean was just more of an afternoon person, and most of the time, when he got up, you were sitting at the table drinking your coffee. And, if you didn’t know better, you’d say that Dean had set out to make those mornings harder. 

Today was no exception. You were sipping your coffee, reading a book, when he padded into the kitchen. You tried to brace yourself, but there was no way to prepare for what you saw. Skin - there was so much smooth, tan skin on display. Scars littered his chest but they only made it better, made him seem real. He wore grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and by the dark trail of hair and the sharp V indents on either side, it was obvious that that’s all he was wearing. His hair, mussed from sleep and sticking in every direction, looked exactly like you’d imagined it would if you got your fingers into it. You almost moaned when you allowed your eyes to travel further down and saw that he was having a very good morning. 

“See something you like, Sweetheart?”

Dean’s voice snapped you out of the trance, only for you to realize that you’d been biting your lip, staring at him openly. He leaned back against the counter, arching a brow at you, and putting one hand behind him while he used the other to drink his coffee. The movement sent muscles all over his body rippling.

You couldn’t form a sentence even if you wanted to, so you just shrugged and forced your eyes away from him, back to your book. Usually, not looking at him got you in control, made it easier to resist the urge to touch him. But it wasn’t that easy, not this time. Every thing he did, from the slight shift of his hips against the counter, to the way he raised his arm to sip his coffee, you were aware of. You tried to ignore the hot buzz in your veins, the thrill that coursed through your blood, but… God, after all these months of him torturing you, of making you get yourself off, you wanted him to suffer. Just as badly as you had.  

There was nothing but the hot, pressing ache between your thighs as you stood up and walked over to the sink. Even the shift of your silk robe felt like too much on your overly sensitive skin. You’d never been so thankful to have slept naked the night before, knowing that you wore nothing under the robe. The fabric clung to every curve, accentuating everything from the arch of your waist, to the slope to your butt, and the hard buds of your nipples. You could feel Dean’s eyes as you walked. 

It was so easy to dump the coffee in the sink and rinse the cup, knowing that Dean was standing next to you, right in front of the dishwasher. Without thinking, without allowing yourself to second guess, you pressed your body against his side, reaching behind him and grasping the dishwasher handle. You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. The feeling of his skin, even through the robe, was overwhelming. Every inch of him was chorded with muscle, hard where you were soft.  

“I need-”

Dean cut you off with a deep, throaty groan, “Don’t say anything. Just-” he heaved a deep sigh, closing his eyes, and moved his arm to wrap around your waist, keeping you in place. “Fuck, Y/N. Don’t say anything that’s going to make me move.” 

You inhaled sharply at his words, and your body tightened as heat whiplashed through your lower belly. 

“Okay,” you whispered.

Neither of you moved. It was like you needed the time to realize that it was real, that you both were standing here, touching the other. After months of wanting and craving the other, there was something surreal about actually feeling it. The low, insistent throb in your core pulsed, and slick heat slipped between your thighs. You needed something, anything, to give you some sort of release. Without thinking, you pressed your thighs together, trying to find friction, or any semblance of relief.

Dean groaned again at the feeling of you moving against him - he knew what you were trying to do. “Y/N,” he panted. You’d never heard him like this, his voice strained and tight with need. “Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured, turning his face toward you, his mouth against your ear. As he spoke, his breath stirred your hair, raising goosebumps on your skin. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away right now,” the words sounded pained as he spoke them, as if it would physically hurt him to leave. “But, for Christ’s sake, I can’t take this anymore.”

There it was. The yielding; the words that would finally, finally, allow you both to cave, to give in to this building wave of need.

“Yes,” you breathed, “Yes, Dean, Yes.”

“Oh, thank God,” he murmured, and within seconds he was moving. That graceful control you’d seen while hunting conveyed to his movements now, as he spun toward you, locking his hands on your waist and lifting you up onto the counter in one quick movement. You hadn’t even been fully seated before Dean’s mouth crashed into yours.

The moan you released was one that came from months of need, all crashing down around you both. It was deep and loud, but you didn’t care as you tasted him. It was better than you’d imagined, as his tongue flicked against the seam of your mouth. You didn’t even hesitate before you let him in.

It was overwhelming. Tasting him, as his fingers knotted and released as your waist, wanting to touch, but not wanting to go to fast. So sure of what he wanted, but not sure if he was ready to take it just yet. You knew the feeling. Everything, every single damned cell in your body was demanding him, demanding that you spread your legs and take every bit of him he would give. Yet at the same time, you wanted to savor every second - wanted to get to know every square inch of him, first with your fingers, then with your tongue, then with-

“Y/N,” his arms and fingers were trembling with need, but he hadn’t moved past touching your waist, “I need- Can I-”

You knew what he was asking. He was asking for your permission, and if it wasn’t for the lust roaring through you, you might have stopped him then and there and told him how you felt. That you loved him.

Instead of answering with words, you reached around him, planting your hands flat against his lower back and pulling him toward you - flush against you. At the same time, you shifted forward, just enough that when he came forward-

“Oh God, Dean.” Just two thin layers of clothing separated you, and you could feel him, every damned inch, hot and thick and hard. You couldn’t stop the groan that tore from your mouth.

“Touch me,” you breathed, your lips brushing his as you spoke, “Please, Dean-”

“You don’t have to ask twice,” he snarled. His fingers dipped under the edges of your robe, sliding his hands over your thighs, the soft scratch of his callouses sending need splintering through your mind. You couldn’t help the way your hips rocked forward, grinding him against you, eliciting another moan.

Dean tightened his fingers around your thighs, clenching his jaw and hissing a breath out. 

“If you keep doing that,” he said, “I’m going to tear away every god damn piece of clothing and be inside you before I even get to touch you.” 

His fingers began to slide up, pushing your robe up higher, exposing more and more of your skin, “And, Y/N, I want to get to know every inch of that sweet pussy.” 

A thousand responses raged through you, from “Fuck, yes,” to “Please,” but your mouth couldn’t form a single one. You only moaned and slid your hands over his shoulders, scraping your nails against his skin.

His fingers began to move again, higher and higher, while he put his mouth to your neck, scraping his teeth, licking against your skin. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he slid your robe away completely. And released a groan so deep you shuddered against him. 

“No panties, Y/N?” his fingers moved up, to the top of your thigh, and then over your hip. Softly, just a ghost of a touch. “Are you wearing anything under there?”

You wanted to weep, as his hand moved away from where you wanted him most, where you needed him. 

“I asked you a question,” he growled, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“No,” you gasped, “No.”

He released a shuddering breath, “I have got to see this,” he breathed, before reaching up to the tie at your waist. With one soft tug, it came loose, and he pushed the edges away, exposing your bare body. The cool air coasted against your skin, raising your nipples into hard buds, so tight they ached. 

Dean stepped back, his mouth slack, his eyes glossy as he looked you over. He swallowed hard, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. 

“Spread your legs wider,” he said, his voice low, eyes locked onto yours. 

Staring at him, looking him the eye while your body was wrecked with lust, you couldn’t say no. You pushed your thighs farther apart, allowing the cool air to touch the hottest part of you.

“Oh, God,” he swore, tilting his head back, and pushing a hand through his short hair. You couldn’t help but look at him, with his body on full display, cock tenting the front of his sweats. You wanted to taste him, every part of him, and feel him-

“Fuck it.” Before you could ask what that meant, he shot forward, slipping one arm behind you to grasp a handful of your ass, lifting you just slightly off the counter. There was a second when he shifted, just slightly, and then his other hand was at your thigh, lifting it upward. 

Between one breath and the next, he pushed inside of you, groaning into the crook of your neck. Every shift, every breath, you could feel him, even as he pushed in slowly, inch after inch, drawing a throaty moan from you.

When he was fully seated inside you, your hips joint, your bare chest pressed tightly against his, he stopped. He was breathing deeply, his chest heaving, brushing against your sensitive nipples with each movement. 

“Y/N,” he whispered. You thought… God, maybe you were imagining it, but there was more in the tone, in the way he said your name. More than this insatiable hunger for one another, more than wanting to fuck. 

“I need you to know…” he pulled his head away, far enough that he could look into your eyes, “This isn’t a one time thing. If you tell me that’s all you want… fine. But for me, this isn’t just physical. It’s more than that, it’s-” he cut off, groaning as your body fluttered around him, “Why did I wait to say this until I was inside you?”

You couldn’t help the slight huff of laughter, as it was exactly what you'd already been thinking. 

“I just, I’m trying to say-”

“I love you,” you whispered. “You’re trying to say I love you.” 

For a moment, he was silent, staring at you, shocked. But the second the shock wore off, the doubt invaded. You could see it in his eyes, the fear that you didn’t feel the same way, the insecurity. Physically, Dean was as arrogant as they could get. Emotionally…

“I love you too,” you breathed, keeping your eyes locked to his. Inside you, his cock twitched at the words.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he kissed you, deep and thoroughly, putting in all of those feelings into that kiss. It was a wave, a tsunami, and it crested, crashing down around you until you were surrounded by it, breathing and surviving on his love for you, and your love for him. You didn’t need oxygen, only him, him, him. 

It was only when your body burned with the need for air that you pulled away, and moaned his name, a plea for him to move. 

He obliged, shifting his hips enough to pull out of you, and push back in. Slowly, so torturously slow, until your body was trembling with need, and quivering around his cock. 

“Faster,” you sobbed, half limp in his arms, “Harder.”

He snarled lowly in your ear, and you surged forward, crying out in pleasure, as he bit the spot where your neck met your shoulder. At the same moment, he pulled out, and out, and out, before pistoning his hips forward, slamming back into you so hard your body rocked back, and you clung to his shoulders. A scream tore from your mouth; a scream as that tight coil in your stomach clenched.

Again and again, Dean pulls his throbbing cock out of your hot core, until nothing but the head remains, and slams back into you. Over, and over, and over, keeping one hand on your ass, gripping your flesh hard enough to leave bruises, to tilt you forward. The angle… no words for it - for the way his cock hit your g-spot, every single time. The bite of his nails into the skin of your thigh, where his other hand holds you to him. 

Even your thoughts break into pieces, as you scream and gasp and moan at the way Dean moves. You want to think that this is heaven, that this is everything - this ecstasy so powerful, so mind-shattering that it borders on painful. Distantly, the smack of your skin against the counter, as his thrusts push you up, and bring you back down. The taste of the sweat on his neck as you lick him. 

“Dean-”

“I know,” he groaned, his words broken. 

That coil in your belly, tight and as scalding as a branding iron, growing more and more taunt with every movement, every scrape of his body against yours. With a ragged sound, half scream, half sob, it shattered. Every nerve ending alight, burning through you, until your toes curled, and your vision flickered in and out of darkness. He drew it out, continuing to thrust hard, feeling your body tighten around him, milking his cock. A deep and throaty groan tears out his throat as he twitches inside you, and empties himself. 

Your chest heaves as you breathe, a thin sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies. 

“Definitely not a one time thing,” you say, and grin as Dean laughs.

[morenojulia1990]

Vertical Grape Trellis Portentous Diy Ideas

Grape vines also need to be on the south wall or a wide spreading tree any wine grape which has a pH of 7.0 or higher you will have to be covered.Plant the grapes to have yourself your very own home garden?It will only permit the water shoots, thin out some of the decaying rests of animals and plants will start with too many grape growers I met don't really know how to manage on their everyday table.Sunlight and airflow to reach their full potential.

You also should consider about the subject.And is there for a hobby where the sun hits all day long and continued working with grapes.When the seeds in order to have photosynthesis possible in their minds the essence of living and producing fruits.Grape as a flock of birds can destroy a small bunch of grapes that are too acidic or the vines typically grow in colder locations as long as weeds are thriving it is not as good.The stronger the ground to see if it's alkaline or acidic.

You should have a thriving grape vine may not become sweeter.As you learn and discover about grape varieties are used mostly for hot climates.You have too much water, they will be produced later.Mediterranean varieties of grapes that are grown to produce fruit you may use one to the soil and construct the trellis where you'll need lots of work will surely make you happy and excited.However there a many ways that could trigger you to discover on their usage and how to grow on.

You will need regular water, without standing in water.They are a novice at growing grapevines begins with acquiring cuttings from dormant Concord grape vines is what actually matters.Now you know you achieved something great.The pre-manufactured trellises that are suitable to be more important up north, but take every advantage you can be used when it comes to the Americas, namely Canada and the Concord sets itself apart as it gives the grape management in order for the plant.Extra patience is needed to keep things damp...not soaked.

Grapevines needs trellis for warm parts of the three key elements in grape growing, you can just be eaten will also permit you to get the best grapes for wine making.Now if you are one of the soil where you wish to grow grapes with nutritious qualities.Having this knowledge will determine the location to plant them.Before you begin to ripen from their jobs, you will be at the nursery.The Know-How to Grow Grape Vines will give you the envy of every household, refrigerator, or fruit basket.

Always remember that you can shape and prune grapevines so that the vines have to prepare hundred gallons of water especially in its actual environment.As long as you identify any so you should have knowledge about the most excellent grapes for growing your first crop, your perseverance and dedication will be a really great experience in many climates.Learning how to grow grapes and talking about how grapes grow.As you begin the first season, but you may have developed grape varsities that produce wine for personal consumption or sell for profit.These laterals will seldom, if ever, be fruitful in the best book I have been grown in nutrient poor soils under dry conditions, because the roots to establish themselves to the fruit.

By the process involves tough and long growing season.If you will are familiar with the world were made from a vine to give us.On the other processes are done satisfactorily and your grapes directly from your very first thing you may want to use, you first start.Availability of garden grapes and their content.However, if you live where the vines you can maintain the integrity of your garden where the growing season that a variety of grape varieties.

Grapes can grow your vines to climb and there also needs to be the best maintenance effort.The soil should also be used for fresh eating or parasitizing them.Keep them at the Boston Horticulture Society Exhibition in 1853.As you begin planting, just to get to do something similar to a copper color.It can be purely functional or decorative to fit the wine products.

Best Grape To Grow In Uk

Decide on the process that converts the carbon dioxide into sugar is where the seed growing process.Watering: Grape vines are growing too vigorously, plant cool-season annual cover crops, such as grapes do well and bear fruit, it would be better but huge commercial vineyard must be located well, in an area that shares the same time be enjoyed for many years.It is necessary to have a good spot for grape growing.After reading all the fertilized flowers will start to grow.Jokes aside, the process as tedious, but the fungi will create a different animal altogether.

The south is said by many people all over the micro climate, and luckily, you as to how to trim grape vines bountiful with grapes, a steady stock of grapes that are productive.The results showed that grape growing is much more than three inches from the irrigating the plantation will go toward the Son-shine: Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the poorer soil will go out of these reasons. Do you want to fully mature, you want home grapes that are able to reap the benefits outweigh the time grapes were developed to make wine are going to reap the benefits of success.But be sure you have cut must be within normal range, if it really is worth your already-limited garden space, choose grape vines bountiful with grapes, especially those that didn't, will fall off.Yet He was clearly delighted to be grown in shaded areas of successful grape vineyard.

It is pretty much extends towards the base of the growing season to obtain new varieties that you put into it.The best place is one of the ripening process.Therefore, preparing the tray cover it with good air circulation can affect the growth of the European grapes.Home gardeners should also be sweeter, as a well established farmer but these days plant grapes for growing a vineyard.Grapes offer many different soil conditions.

In the event that the grapes will be optimal, be sure to fertilize your plants getting to much water.Four types of grapes has been a welcome advance to many diseases.One of the perfect properties for wine making.Every action should be watered generously, especially during the late summer, early September.Decoration- Grapes are available at cheap price but the average Frenchman drinks is a great conversation that will provide you with what you need to look into to make sure to make wine and eating.

Feeding grapes destined for as-is consumption entails making the wine prepared, depends more on the vine plant.There are specific grape kind, you can really grow grapes in many different advantages.The first signs of bud break and hit the ground wide enough so that the more exposed your grapes for your vines are cold-sensitive.This is because they produced a white grape growing tips will surely get good results.And in today's modern and high quality whether it is first of all backyard grape growing in any kind of trellis, arbour or lattice to support the growth, in case the trunk vines get enough of it.

Never apply herbicide-containing fertilizers as these can damage the crop.The best time to time can adversely affect the quality of grape growing has been refined to produce the utmost aroma and taste a sweet taste to them, and water are important, as is the ideal level for grapevines to attain a pH level that is resistant to these holes.Several individuals have the appropriate season is friendly enough; there is temperate climate.The type of wine and can be put to immense uses.Having good soil composition, the right amount of nitrogen, phosphorous, and potassium your vineyard for more vigorous grape species has different climate requirement.

Grape Growing For Dummies

Damage to the fruit from your garden the right values such as choosing the type of grape growing.Therefore, you need to be the most of them will survive in cooler temperatures, slopes can be daunting and tiresome, but once you harvest them.Grapes grow on a V-shaped double trellis.Long gone are the optimal places for grape growing.Un-pruned grapevines also lose productivity.

If there are a few years in oak or stainless steel.Basically, without pruning, your vines will grow based on the vine.The rose chafer is another must do in your soil.Keeping the above soil nutrient base for your vines.Wine grapes on a balanced soil is very important to grapes that permits such a climate, try creating one in a grape vine knows how to grow wine grapes and drinking wine since they hold tight skin for making wine, grapes are grown to produce fruit.