#Also I think of Ravage as a woman with a very deep voice so that makes this even better

[arceespinkgun]

🐈‍⬛Happy Halloween with the duo who would’ve been so powerful!🕷️🕸️

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend

Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.

Ghost

Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.

You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.

He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.

There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.

More on this later 👀.

He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.

Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.

Expect a lot of praise in bed.

Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.

Other times, he’s not so gentle.

Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.

His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.

“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”

He’s very protective of you.

He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.

Scary dog privileges.

Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.

That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.

He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.

As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.

However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.

“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”

König

Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.

But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.

He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.

When he feels like it.

He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.

You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.

Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.

Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.

He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.

Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.

A little bit silly.

And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.

Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.

One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.

He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.

Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.

Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.

It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.

Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.

“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.

“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”

His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.

“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.

“Inch by bloody inch.”

Valeria

You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.

That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.

Sexual or otherwise.

She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.

Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.

In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.

“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.

“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”

She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.

She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.

Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.

Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.

Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.

Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.

You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”

You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.

Price

He’s so father-coded fr.

He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.

Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.

John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.

Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.

The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.

When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.

A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.

On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.

E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.

He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”

“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.

“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.

“And all mine.”

Horangi

You’re the only thing that matters to him.

At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.

Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).

His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.

In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.

You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.

You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.

Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.

Unless you push him too far.

At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.

He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.

“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”

He never fails in the aftercare department, though.

Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.

Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.

A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.

Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.

Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.

Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.

“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”

Alejandro

Pre-established passionate lover.

One who is fiercely protective over you.

If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.

You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.

He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.

A thorough lover is how you might describe him.

Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.

You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.

Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.

Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.

He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.

“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.

Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”

Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.

Rodolfo

His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.

As he should.

You want it ? You got it. 

In abundance.

You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.

That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.

He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.

Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.

Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”

Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.

It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.

“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.

“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.

“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”

Graves

This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.

Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.

He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.

E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.

“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”

He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.

He never expects anything from you in return.

He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.

Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.

Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.

On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.

He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.

“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.

#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.

He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.

“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.

Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[redorich]

for the hermit canyon, i humbly request:

Etho messing with Karl and maybe like, Lazarbeam or Fundy, by pretending he’s moth man.

Quackity stalks through the woods, blissfully unaware of its other inhabitants-- not that he would care, if he knew. No, tonight, under the full moon (because it's romantic) he makes his move.

The Hermit, as Quackity is completely sure of, is a beautiful young woman with long flowing hair as white as snow. Because she is a creature of untold power and beauty, fairy tale logic obviously applies. Therefore, if Quackity can steal her clothes, she will have no choice but to marry him and they will live happily ever after as big booty bitches in love.

Nodding to himself, Quackity feels assured in his logic. He's wearing his favorite assless chaps, his best pair of knockoff Yeezys, and no shirt. He is ready for what is to come.

---

Karl lurks deep in the forest, illuminated only by the moon. He leans against a tree, taking care not to disturb his outfit-- he is camouflaged as a bush. Dangling strips of green and brown fabric cover his body, and his limbs are completely hidden in the costume so long as he stands still. It's a daunting task, standing still in the dark, dangerous woods at night. Nevertheless, Karl knows that this is what he must do.

"Triclops Mothman, my beloved," he whispers into the night. He will find Mothman, and he will marry Mothman. There is no alternative.

---

Far away from both Karl and Quackity, though still in the same spruce forest, Sapnap angrily prowls. Well, he'd describe it as a prowl. Truthfully, it's more of a pouty stomp. He knows that this forest has had multiple "Hermit sightings", and Sapnap wants-- no, needs what he's after.

"Hermit!" he screams into the night. "Come out and fight me, you little bitch! Man on man!"

To emphasize his point, he bangs a pot and a pan against each other several times. Sapnap is getting his revenge for that little ravager prank, one way or another.

---

Deep within the canyon walls, the Hermit complex looks like an overturned anthill with all its activity. It's Halloween night come early.

"I'm not wearing a dress," Etho insists.

Grian whines, "But Etho, I made it just for you! It matches Stress's outfit."

Stress, upon hearing her name, looks up from her book and waves. Cleo is currently fiddling with the thick mane of synthetic white hair Stress is wearing, styling the wig into a princess-y type braid.

"I'll say it again," Cleo says, looking very intently into Etho's eyes, "I could take your place."

"No," Etho sighs. "If what Puffy said about these guys is true, you'd probably bite someone's face off by the end of the night."

"You're no fun," Cleo huffs, but acquiesces.

"At least put on the wig," Grian demands.

Grian and Etho have a staring contest for a solid ninety seconds before Etho snaps his fingers in front of Grian's face, causing him to flinch and blink. "You cheater--!"

"I'll wear the wig," Etho interrupts Grian. Instantaneously, Grian loses his outraged moue.

Cleo sighs. "They're the same wig, right? Do I have to braid Etho's hair, too?"

"I think I'll be fine with my new flowing, luscious locks," Etho says with a humorous crinkle to his eyes.

They all laugh as Etho dramatically flips his fake hair, whipping himself in the face with it in the process. He also receives a thumbs up from Joe, who is in the process of searching for his contact lenses because "Herobrine doesn't wear glasses", according to Bdubs.

Night falls, and the Hermits are prepared. They hope their victims aren't.

---

Quackity catches a glimpse of silver-white after so long searching in the woods. With a little gasp, he eagerly pursues it. His beautiful maiden, ethereal and distant like the moon, darts between trees and leaps across creeks like she is flying, like her feet barely touch the ground.

He follows her to a clearing, but when he bursts through the brush into the open space, she is nowhere to be found.

“Mi rey!” he wails, “Fantasma hermosa! Come to papi!”

Etho, hiding in a tree about five feet away, has no clue what any of those words mean. He affects a terrible falsetto and throws his voice. “Hello, Quackity.”

Quackity jumps, looking around wildly for his beautiful girlboss queen. “Hermit?! You know my name?”

“Of course, Quackity,” Etho says, hefting a large rock in his hand. “Come closer, I have a cask of Amontillado we can share.”

Quackity turns toward Etho's voice just fast enough to catch a glimpse of the Hermit's mask, his (fake) long white hair, his decidedly not female appearance. Quackity looks the Hermit up and down. Etho has never felt more Perceived.

"What's a place like you doing in a guy like this?" Quackity says, flirtatiousness dripping from his voice.

Etho eyes the man's assless chaps with distaste from his crouched perch in a tree. Quick as lightning, he chucks the heavy rock in his hand at Quackity's head, knocking him out instantly.

Etho jumps down from his tree with a huffed sigh. "Well," he says, grabbing Quackity by the ankle and dragging him, "time to get to work."

---

"Pspspsps," Karl whispers, "heeeere Mothman..."

The sound of a twig snapping to his right makes Karl freeze, then turn ever so slowly. There's no one there. Karl holds his breath for what feels like an eternity, but is eventually forced to admit that the noise was probably just an animal. Surely, a creature of Mothman's size would make more noise when he walks, given the weight of his strong legs.

"Mothman," Karl says. "I wrote you a poem!"

Joe, who was up until this point hiding behind trees and ominously snapping twigs, feels a twinge of morbid curiosity. As a poet, he absolutely has to know what Karl considers an adequate love poem for Mothman.

With red cheeks, Karl professes his love:

"Your feelers make me feel so sweet

Your hindwings set my heart aflame

Fern-like antennae make me melt

And Mothman, you're to blame."

Despite himself, Joe is a little bit impressed. It almost makes him feel bad about what he's about to do-- almost.

A soft eerie glow seeps into the forest, catching Karl's eye. He investigates, creeping forward until he turns around a tree and sees glowing white eyes. He screams, but there is no sound, and the forest has disappeared. Only those eyes remain, and they too flicker out of existence.

There is a dim corridor ahead of him, narrow and lit by redstone torches. At the end, there is an iron door. He runs to the exit, but as soon as his hand touches the door it disappears and he is engulfed by swirling purple-- like a Nether portal, but so much more terrifying.

The purple is gone and he can just barely make out the menacing image of a man with glowing white eyes T-posing in the blackness. Karl opens his eyes and wakes up on the forest floor, prone and sore.

"Right," he mutters breathlessly to himself, "Mothman is not interested."

---

"--YOU BITCH ASS PUNK, I'M GONNA RIP YOUR LEGS OFF AND STICK 'EM ON YOUR HEAD!" Sapnap screams, banging the only pot he owns against a non-stick frying pan he stole from George.

"Well, that's not very nice, innit?" says a feminine voice. Sapnap looks left, right, behind him, up in the trees... then down.

Big brown eyes peer up at him through white bangs. A displeased pout set into a moon-pale face attached to an equally moon-pale woman chastises him without words.

"...You're the Hermit?" Sapnap says disbelievingly. He has his doubts that someone as small and pretty as this woman could wrangle a ravager onto his front lawn.

"You wanted a fight," she huffs. "And for the record, you totally had it coming, with Pamela's Revenge-- remember, the rava--"

"Yes, I know the ravager was named Pamela's Revenge! There were like eight hundred million death messages in chat about it, you jackass!" Sapnap snaps, trying to cover up his unease. It's not that he's hesitant to hit her because she's a girl; he would deck the shit out of Niki or Puffy with absolutely no provocation whatsoever. It's just that... she looks soft. Like a non-combatant. It would be too easy, too cruel--

Stress punches Sapnap in the jaw with a wicked right hook. "Stealing is wrong," she says.

While Sapnap is dazed and quite possibly mildly concussed, Stress follows up with a brutal kick to the shin. Sapnap makes a genuine effort to fight back, and he’s no slouch, but he’s been taken so thoroughly off guard that the best he can do with his head spinning as it is is to swing with a wild haymaker and hope it hits.

His fist makes contact with something soft and squishy. He hears a grunt, but Stress shoves him over onto the ground and dumps a bucket of glitter over his head. It burns his eyes, but more importantly it burns his pride. He doesn’t remember at what point he dropped his pot and pan (he must have at some point, because he punched the Hermit with an empty fist), but he’s angry enough to open his watery eyes through the magenta glitter and snatch George’s frying pan up off the forest floor, hurling it at the Hermit with devastating accuracy. She yelps, blocking with her forearm at the last moment.

“Knew I shoulda let Etho...” Sapnap hears the Hermit mutter. What’s an Etho?

Stress irritably bonks Sapnap on the head with the pan he threw at her. He goes limp like a ragdoll, and Stress sets about maneuvering his body into a sitting position leaned against a tree so she can do his makeup while he sleeps.

“Hope I don’t poke his eye out!” she says. “Ah well, he’s got two anyway. Now, should I go for a cute, summery look, or a dark evening look?”

---

In Atrium 1 of the Hermit Canyon complex, Puffy laughs loud and clear, clutching her paper cup tightly so she doesn’t spill her fruit punch. "No,” she chokes out, “he didn’t.”

Cub, holding a similar paper cup, waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Yep. That’s Etho for you. You know, one time he got Doc to run around with a snowman head on, eating spider eyes?”

“Oh man,” Puffy sighs, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye. “I’m so glad I snitched on Karl, Quackity, and Sapnap. I can’t wait to see their reactions!”

Cub grins evilly. “Stress got pictures before she left.”

Puffy gasps, stars in her eyes. “I’ll bake you a whole cake if you get me a copy.”

“I’ll bake Cub a whole cake if he gives them to me instead,” Grian interjects from across the room. “I don’t need them, I just want to take them from you.”

“Nooooo!” Puffy wails melodramatically. “Grian, please spare me!”

“Five diamond blocks,” Grian makes his demand.

Puffy continues to fake-sob, pretending not to notice Scar sneaking up on Grian until Scar drops an anvil on Grian’s head, like a Looney Tunes episode but slightly to the left. While Grian is distracted, Cub slips the pictures to Puffy, who puts them in her inventory without looking.

Etho walks into the Atrium, now dressed as his normal self, including his natural hair, which looks like an angry wet cat perched atop his head, just the way he likes it. Everyone cheers.

“So, how’d it go with Quackity?” Puffy asks with a smirk.

“Well...” Etho says.

---

Quackity wakes up with the sun in his eyes. In front of him is the public Nether portal, and standing right in front of it is a wide-eyed Sam, staring directly at him. Quackity looks down.

He’s naked, covered in half-dried honey, and tied to a pole like the world’s sexiest flag. And he’s got the world’s worst hangover-- it feels like he’s been hit in the head with a large rock.

“Not again,” he groans.

“...This happens often?” Sam asks.

“If I had a nickel for every time something like this has happened,” Quackity says, wiggling his way out of the ropes tying him to the pole, “I’d have enough money to go buy myself a pair of pants.”

Sam averts his eyes to the sky, abruptly aware of exactly why Quackity would feel the need to buy a pair of pants.

“Damn it,” Quackity says. “Those were my favorite pair of assless chaps.”

“Were they now,” Sam says numbly. The sky is quite blue today, it’s rather beautiful.

Quackity huffs in aggravation, finally having freed himself from his binds. “Yeah, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to, you know?”

“Not really, no,” Sam says slowly. “I wouldn’t know much about-- assless chaps.”

The naked man shrugs. Haltingly, Sam unclasps his cape, pulling it off his shoulders and offering it to Quackity.

“Nah,” Quackity says, “I’ll just streak.”

“Please don’t,” Sam says with pain in his eyes.

[sweettodo]

Rolling ⟿ Hisoka x fem!reader

Includes : praising, smut, watersports, consumption of alcohol, use of molly, swearing.

Word count : 4,8k

A/N, I haven’t really written something like this, I’ve never taken molly but I did sorta look it up, I don’t condone using molly, nor do I condone drinking. This smut is for the sole purpose of a little fun night.

••

"And who might you be?"

••

The event was at it’s prime, everyone chatting, drinking, eating, I hated the idea of coming but disregarded those thoughts the second I got ahold of some alcohol.

"I'm y/n, you?" The dark yet beautifully illuminated ballroom created a sparkle from my red gown, etching out my body to my liking. The tall man who stood two feet away from me devours me with his devilish yellow eyes; his charismatic smirk which quickly lured me in for more.

"Hm, I'm Hisoka, but enough about me. You're so exciting to look at, I must admit." I smile and blush, looking down at the rest of my dress.

"Thank you, what brings you here?" I change the subject, standing in the main area of the ballroom, the bar a reach away, I needed it.

"Ahh, just work business, and you?" While he talks, I observe what he's wearing; a black on black suit, his multicolored hair which was more or less intriguing.

"The same, I'm here with my Co. Owner." I smile, a server comes from Hisoka's right, a plate with champagne, he stands in front of us, I graciously take one and Hisoka does the same, thanking the waiter. His eyes slightly widen as he sips from the glass.

"A lady a charge?" He's tilted against the column, we look at each other intently, I kinda liked his vibe.

"Yep, what can I say!" I giggle, he retorts with a light chuckle, his low eyes captivating me more and more.

While you observed the man in front of you, you weren’t the only one, Hisoka was excited. He undressed you with his eyes so sensually, he could have ravaged you right there. The way your hair paired perfectly with your dress, your makeup was to impress others, you didn’t do this for yourself. You wanted people to look at you, Hisoka picked up on your undertoned confidence and he knew that he liked you. You also had a bite to your personality, he liked the power you held.

‘How have I not met her sooner?’

"Do you plan on going straight back to the hotel room? Or another party?" Hisoka shakes his thoughts out of his head, watching the pretty lady raise an eyebrow in return.

‘Another party? Well.. was I not invited or something?’ I shrug.

"I'd head to another party; if I had known one existed." I roll my eyes, he stands straight and turns around quickly, placing the empty glass on the high table next to us.

"It was more of a word of mouth thing; I'd be happy to take you as my plus one? But the scene might be different as you’re used to..."

"Who did you come with tonight?" I ask, changing the subject from the party for a light minute, wanting to be nosy, what if he had come with a woman.

"Just a few friends, god knows where they are." He jokes, I laugh, my fingers rolling the neck of my glass, swirling and swallowing the last sip of alcohol. The hot feeling in my stomach from the drink making me feel more loose and relaxed, ‘I could go with him to a party, where’s the harm?’

"We should." I nod simply, he smiles and wastes no time taking my empty glass from my hand. Swiftly placing it on a servers tray as the kid walked by. He signals for me to follow him. Leading the way and I follow close behind, my hand gently holding up the fabric of my dress so I don't trip, 'he was so tall', and quiet, who the fuck was this guy I've never even seen him before?

"Is it off base if I say that you strike me as very mysterious?" I toss my hunch out there, he looks back at me when we reach valet.

"I'd like to see myself as more of the withdrawn type." He sticks out his hand, I grab it, it was soft, his fingers long and lanky. He led me a few steps ahead when a car pulls up, opening the passenger side door of a black matte Camero; with red interior. 'Nice pick y/n' I do a little jig of accomplishment and slight excitement before he hops in the sports car.

He pulls the car out of park speedily and drives out of the culdesac.

"What do you do for work, Hisoka?" I ask him, he glanced at me, a hand holding his chin while his elbow sits on the middle console.

"I dip into a little of everything, call me an opportunist." He simply answers. There was a big lie right there, I've been able to pick apart things being true or false since childhood; my tack record never really failing me, he didn't need to know that.

"I own an agency, if you were curious."

But he assumed this. He guessed it when he recalled your name during tonights convo, she owned an agency, more like a school for beginning nen users, she raked in millions a year. A firecracker, determined and strong willed woman she was.

"My, quite fascinating, you must be of some talent, yeah?" He asks, a little of a misogynist thing to ask but I quickly shake it off, Hisoka speeds down the highway and I look out the front window.

"I guess." I hum, I glance at his hands, they kinda made me excited- the size...

Minutes later we arrive at a gated neighborhood, he swings his car through the entrance of the gates and I become excited, finally I could really get fucked up.

"Aren't we a little too overdressed for a house party?" I chuckle, he pulls up the the front of the house.

"This isn't your average party babygirl, no one cares what you'll be wearing." Babygirl? A slight cringe at how loosely he used the word. I furrow my eyebrows, before being able to question him someone is swinging open my door along with the drivers side. It was elegant- he looked... so good.

"Not my average party hu-" my mouth falls open a little before I look at him. I knew these some of these people. It was packed. But Hisoka never stopped shuffling through the crowd, leading me down the few stairs and ignoring any welcomes that came his way.

We reach a basement door, he knocks twice before opening it and he lets me in. There were a bunch of couches, a TV, a bar, kitchen etcetera. Everyone looked like they were rolling, drunk maybe?

No. Not rolling on the floor literally. But rolling on some type of psychedelic, or shitfaced for sure. My heart falls in my throat, baffled.

"I don't get into this kinda thing." I nervously chuckle, stepping away from him, he frowns, lifting his hand to my shoulder, caressing it.

"You will soon." I smirks, grabbing my hand and leading me deeper into the foyer. I look around, it looked fun, I wanted to feel it but I would leave myself open to being taken advantage of.

"Drink?" Standing in front of the bar, he pours vodka into a glass, I smirk. ‘Who was this man?’ I liked him, I ignore my slight anxiousness.

"Mhh, gladly; thank you." I hum, taking it from him, right as I'm about to drink from the glass he stops me, covering the opening of the glass with his palm.

"You'll be very- what's the word? Hot, if you drink that by the way." Referencing to the drink, is that what he did for a living, reeled women in to sex them up on molly and champagne?

"You want to take care of me? Hot and bothered Mr. Morow?" I lean into him, his head slightly dipped down so he can hear me, in all honesty, I already was hot and bothered. His bloodlust licking all over my body and seeping into my pores, he smelled amazing, the tone of his voice got me stirring in my shoes.

I look up at him through my thick eyelashes and he bites down onto his lip in anticipation on what was to come.

"You wanna get me vulnerable?" I reach up and scissor the fold of his black blazer, stroking it slightly, "you wanna take advantage of me Hisoka? Coulda’ just told me what you wanted from the jump." There had to have been something in the air.

While on the other end of things, Hisoka’s breath was quickly sucked out in a bit of a shock. His heart thudding a little faster than usual; god he could tear you up.

“I’m stronger than you think I am Hisoka,” I giggle. I was, I was always on my A game.

“What kind of man would that make me y/n?” He smirks, pressing his cheek against mine and whispering, “if I wanted to take advantage of you, I would’ve torn you to pieces before we even got into my car.” I gulp and pull away from him slowly, mustering up the courage and taking a swig out of the cup and his eyes widen, I stop halfway down the drink and press him to drink the rest.

“Go on, drink it Hisoka, you wanted to get me fucked up.” I chuckle, he pushes the cup and pours his own.

“Drink all of it, you wont regret it.”

••

My head was spinning, the walls dipping in and out, swirling, my third eye was 100% open for sure. I sat on the ‘L’ shaped couch, Hisoka diagonal from me sitting comfortably on the corner, we didn’t really talk. Or maybe we were talking? I really was out of it. I didn’t pay attention to the other party goers, there were around 30 people down here.

While he looked over at the wall, I started deep into his soul. The more I looked at him the more I envisioned him on top of me in some dimly lit room.

“Hmm, y/n, if you keep looking at me like that who knows what I’ll end up doing to you.” My eyes quickly snap up to meet his own.

I was so empty headed I didn’t have the capability of feeling embarrassed.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Hisoka’s dick slighty twitched in his pants. He was already pussywhipped.

He needed you.

He looked at me seductively, eyes low. I bit on my bottom lip; a one night stand wouldn’t hurt. It’s been so long, although you were so intoxicated you had no idea how this would go, nonetheless feeling much more bold.

Hisoka was right, you were hot. Your body throbbing, everything was definitely more sensitive, tingling almost.

Hisoka was restless, he knew that he was going to make you his little plaything.

He couldn’t help it; standing, he taps on your shoulder and ushers you up, grabbing your elbow and slightly dragging you down the darkened hallway, it made you dizzy, your eyes spiraling and colors accentuated and it made you see new weird versions of colors, ‘is this real?’

He opens a door and flicks on the light, your eyes needing to adjust to the weird vibrating walls.

You weren’t able to talk much, everything sounded foreign when it left your lips, like a jumble of noises so you held back talking. He shuts the door quickly and walking back towards you, towering over your body. Your heals slip off your feet when Hisoka is pushing you onto the bed, your legs slightly falling open and you stare at him through your lashes, looking like a whore.

He leans over you, his knees pressed on either side of your own, pinning your wrists back above your head, you bite down onto your tongue. Leaning into you, he dives into your neck, bitting and gnawing at the bit. You breathe out a slight whimper; almost undetectable.

Senses heightened, you felt like you could taste him already. He nibbles and licks down the v line of your dress, he radiated a hot and intense vibe, you were stunned. You were also beyond horny.

Hisoka moves his knee up to your cunt, you gasp when he applies the littlest pressure. He pulls up and looks at you.

“I can feel your heartbeat on my knee.” He states, I blush and look away.

“That’s because I’m horny.” I admit, he smirks and uses one of his hands to tuck hair back.

“Are you now... what can we do about that?” He purrs, mouth pressed against your ear and you shivered. Tugging slightly against his grip, he releases you, your hands land on his chest, trailing down and unbuttoning the single button on his black blazer.

“No Hisoka, what are you going to do about that?” You send him a smug look and push him off you slightly, you felt confident so why not have a little more fun than usual.

“My my, are you insinuating you’re going to use me?”the undertone of sarcasm made you laugh, you push up onto your knees and he falls on his back.

“Mhm, I’m going to fuck you until all your kids are dumped into me.” Lifting up your dress slightly so you could straddle his waist, he stares at you with his tongue being pinched by his teeth.

You roll your hips as you tug apart the strings that kept your dress closed, watching him as you smirked, he picked up quickly what you were doing and bunched up your dress from your legs, slowly taking it off and over your body, throwing it to the side, he sits up; and since his legs still hung off the bad, this was easier for him to sit comfortably and as close to you as possible.

His hands tickle down your sides, ending up at your lower back as he pulls you into his grasp tightly, grinding against his dick in the process. You lean back slightly, pushing the blazer off of him and he shimmies it off, you start unbuttoning this shirt and his hands caress your butt, following your tailbone and gripping.

You push off his shirt and he was breathtaking. His toughly toned chest, hard as a rock. Abs galore, his shoulders broad and his biceps huge.

“Let me know when you’re done staring.” You roll your eyes and let him toss the shirt on the floor.

You were definitely disoriented, but aware enough to consent but you were 100% felt empty headed besides the fact you could smell colors. Neither was Hisoka, he looked at you while he sworn you were moving so much more slow, you weren’t; but he thought you were teasing him.

He moves his hands to explore your body, feeling your soft and warm skin. His hands knead your boobs, like it was something he’s never felt before.

You push yourself off of him, “stand up and get on the bed fully.” You demand, he stands, but before he can plop back down, you unclasp the button on his slacks, hesends you a smug glance, looking down at your small hands compared to his wide waist, he was going to absolutely fucking obliterate you and you had no idea.

“You won’t be in charge for long my love, but I suppose I’ll let you have your fun.” Hisoka whispers, you could’ve fallen apart right there, but you held it together for the sake of the challenge he bestowed upon you.

He tugs his slacks off and you watch him with puppy eyes, the air coming from his nose hitched, you didn’t even bother to look at how hard he was, while he stares down at you, your hand climbs the back of his neck, standing on your toes more to kiss him.

Once you guys find yourself deep in a messy make out session, he taps your ass so he can pick you up. You jump a little and wrap your legs around his hard waist, feeling so high up you didn’t even know if he was really this tall or if it could be being literally high off molly altered your state.

He drops down onto the bed, you gasp when his clothed dick slides across your clothed cunt, it sat against your stomach as you looked down and your eyes widen, looking at how... how fucking big he was.

He scooches back so his head upper body is against the headboard.

“You seem intimidated, are you scared I’ll break you?” The smug look on his face made you laugh.

“Nope.” You were lying right through your fucking teeth. You were terrified; his cock was fucking huge.

You roll circles against his throbbing cock as you both took turns sucking and biting on each others necks, he left strong hickies and bite marks all over your chest.

He was so close to coming which was extremely unlike him, he could last for so long and was pissed that the drugs were bringing him so close to the edge.

“I’m giving you a few more minutes before I’m taking control.” He hums, you allow him to take control prematurely.

“Take control of me now Hisoka.” You purr in his ear, he takes action, swiftly pushing you up and slipping your panties down your thighs and shoving you on your back so your head was on the pillows.

He rips your panties off, you kick them off your ankle and his hand trails up your abused chest, hand gripping your neck. You were seeing fucking stars, literally? You didn’t know you were so high; but you did notice the peak was slowly ending.

You stick your hand down and it falls into the waistband of his boxers, he grabs your wrist and throws it back at you. “Don’t touch me.” He snarled, knowing it sounded rude, this was only because he was so close to nutting that if she even do much as stroked him he’d bust.

He tugs at his boxers and while your swollen lips and sliding his tongue in your mouth, you feel his sly hand rubbing your thigh and opening it, his hand grabs the headboard and the other one is holding your thigh open widely.

“You gonna let me put it in?” You whisper a little sassy, he looks at you with mean- intense eyes.

“My love, you won’t be able to as much move when I’m done with you, keep the attitude to a minimum.” He growls, your leg wrapping around his back and as he pins your thigh down, Hisoka knowing you were about to attempt to slam your legs closed.

He slowly slides into your dripping pussy. All he could think about was being enveloped in your hot walls. Savoring the feeling, he had enough self control to slowly enter into you. Your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth falling open, you watch him slowly fill you up.

You couldn’t even think of words, or noises for that matter, your brain drowning in loud red colors and your eyes were only looking at him, you didn’t even know what the room around you looked like. You were spinning, your body felt like it was trembling and twitching. He gives a tiny thrust to finish filling you up and your legs jolt, attempting to squeeze shut when he hits your cervix. It hurt so bad, you wince and your eyes screw shut.

He on the other hand was captivated by your beautiful body and scent, he couldn’t wait to watch you fall apart and drip cum all over him.

Hisoka pulls back, the pain making things feel a little more real; you look into his eyes, his golden eyes, pupils dilated from the drug- as he swears he can feel every nerve in your twitching cunt. Lowly, he lets out a little chuckle before yanking your leg up further and he picks up the pace, it was so sensual. You never made love but if it was anything like this and you didn’t even know the man? This was a culture shock.

You glance up at his bicep, trailing up towards the headboard, his hand clenches tighter on the headboard, you see him begin to white-knuckle the wood and your eyes widen, glancing at him. Seconds later, he has your face twisting into immense pleasure when the pace picks up, he releases your thigh from his grasp and grabs your throat, leaning in and licking slowly down your jawline, the pounding of his cock into your pussy feeling euphoric, your head spun, lacking oxygen, still high, you can tell he had finished his peak, his thrusts becoming more stable.

The snapping of Hisoka’s hips, you were finally able to get the clogged up moans that begged to come out. Finally, when he heard your moan, he began sweating. His hair becoming a little slick, falling down to his shoulders.

“O-h my god.” You groan, your stomach tightening, you wrap your arm around his neck and his flexed arm hold him up neck to your head.

“You want me to fuck you harder pretty girl?” Hisoka grunts, you let out a whine, fingers intertwining into the hair at his scalp.

“Yes please.” You mewl; this is was his moment to really get down to business, he pushes off the rattling headboard. He swiftly gets off of you, but roughly shoving you by your shoulder onto your hands and knees, he rips your arms from underneath you, causing you to fall harshly into the bed; holding them tight while he reaches off the side of the bed and picks up his tie.

His dick sitting pretty between your ass cheeks- hard as a rock, he ties you up. You bite down on your bottom lip, almost sad you couldn’t rub your hands all over him and touch him.

“God, your pussy is so pretty.” He mumbles, pulling your cheeks opposite from each other so he can get the view of the pretty cunt he was about to tear up. He spits onto your already dripping pussy before quickly picking up where he left off, the difference being he didn’t hesitate to pound hard into your cervix. You let out a screech and attempt to move away but he grounds your hips and gives you strong thrusts, not holding back, Hisoka disregarding your little screams from the pain.

“Does that hurt? You’re so fucking tight; no wonder it hurts so bad.” He grits, angrily fucking me. You become more and more vocal, screaming into the mattress. You pleaded for him to untie you.

“Y-you’re fucking ruthless H-Hisoka,” you moan between thrusts, he chuckles.

Hisoka was so close to coming, it took him more willpower then he’d like to admit. He brings his hand up and slams it down onto your ass. The slap ringing through the room.

You let out a throaty groan, tears soaking the bedsheet from your eyes. You had gotten used to the pain, but he filled every crevice in your pussy, you could feel absolutely everything, from his veins to his cock twitching.

You’re so close to releasing, his name falling out of your mouth incoherently and swears following the screams. Hisoka groaned and held down your arch so he could drill into you. You screamed, for mercy? His dick nor himself cared how bad far he was reaching. He brings his hand down again into a hard slap, you cry out and moan. He loved it, encouraging him to go faster. “My god, princess, you enjoy me hurting you with my cock and my hand? What else can I do to you?” You whine and you feel your juices drip down your thigh, you can came and didn’t even know it. Hisoka pulls out and listens to you moan, groan and cry while your legs shake and smirks.

“Untie me please, Hisoka I need to touch you.” You whine, he rubs your ass.

“Hmm well, I could, but I won’t.” He yanks you up by the hair and hair hand runs down your throat, your throat was dry, makeup running down your flustered face. He could come just looking at your face. He never felt that way before, it had to be the heightened senses from the drugs.

He sits against the headboard once again and without untying you he pulls you by your thighs and slowly pushes you down onto his cock. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, hissing when he grabs you by the hips and shoved himself into you.

He stares at your pretty lace bra and disheveled face as he bounces you up and down, your mouth forming a perfect ‘o’, practically going cross eyes he was reaching so deep into you. “Y-you’re so big.” You whine, unable to look into his eyes because you could barely keep them open.

“You’re taking my cock so well.” His chest riding and falling, it wasn’t as fast as he liked but he knew he was filling you up as much as he could, fitting his cock into your pussy as he pleased.

He flexed his back, lifting you still and snapping his hips into you. You practically collapse, hair sticking to your forehead and drool coming from your mouth. You scream and your legs begin to quiver.

“A-Ah! I need to pee” You wail as you feel another orgasm wash over your body, he doesn’t slow down but he remains at the same speed, only making the orgasm stronger, he moves a hand and rubs your bud in a pressurized circular motion. A mixture of piss and cum gushes out of your beaten pussy and you have no control of your body, falling forward onto his shoulder and he catches you.

The sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, not stopping you even whilst releasing. He was so thrilled seeing you squirt all over him. Smirking slyly.

“Do you want me to fill you with my seed pretty girl? Have my kids pour out of that tight little pussy?” He grits, moving you back down onto your back and pulling up your numb legs. He needed to come in you now. Drilling into you like no tomorrow. You begged for him to untie you again and again.

He didn’t listen, brutally fucking you. Fucking you so hard your walls clenched so hard he could barely reach as deep. He was so close, Hisoka panting as he begins feeling dizzy, his dick twitched before abruptly stopping, slowly thrusting after a moment, hitched breathing and sweat dripping into your crunched up stomach.

Coincidentally, the slow thrusts made you orgasm again, convulsing and your muscles twitching as you both chased one of the strongest climax you’ve each had. Sniffling and trying to stop the tears, your ass and pussy still twitching as he pulled out of you, he stared sensually at your cunt, watching his own seed spill out of you.

After a few moments, he stops himself from falling in love with your cunt that he just stretched out to fit his desire. He lifted you up by the tied arm and slipped his tie off your wrists, setting you free.

Before you’re able to do anything, he runs his fingers up your slit slowly and carefully, picking up both of your cum, he lifts his hand and grabs your jaw, you instantly open your mouth and stick your tongue out, he sticks his two fingers down your throat and you suck on them, swallowing some of his seed. “Good girl, I didn’t even have to tell you.”

You wipe under your eyes and he smirks.

“We could stay here for the night, or we can go back to my place?” He hums in question. You just drop your back onto the bed. Trying to compose yourself.

“Yeah.” You sigh, panting slightly, he hands you his shirt and you slip it on and button it up.

This was the first time you were now looking around to see where you were, the high slowly reaching an end. You wondered what time it was, hoping to find a clock. Hisoka looks at his phone, ‘1:30am’ it read. He and you had both taken the drug at 9.

He slips on his pants and opens the foreign closet, he didn’t know what to find but when he saw a black t shirt he took it and slipped it on, it fit. He snoops through the closet and tries to find pants for you. He sees a pair of basketball shorts and tosses them towards you, you catch them and try to move as little as possible.

He sees you struggle to put them on and smiles, biting his tongue to prevent him from saying something arrogant. He was so fucking tickled that he fucked your legs into becoming numb and paralyzed.

He steps over at you and crouches down, he grabs the waistband and slips them over your legs. He should’ve warned you his dick would hurt you so bad, but he was so high he didn’t even think to mention it. Hisoka takes your hand and gently leads you to your feet. You feel like your organs had been shifted and you felt empty and cold.

As you and him quietly make your way through the house, people still resides there and the music was as loud as when you first arrived, no one really paid you any mind; which surprised you because your hair was a rats nest and you looked homeless. Barefoot, you and him walk to his car, more like limped.

“I feel like I’ve been split in half.” You mumble as Hisoka helps you into the car, he chuckles. While shutting the door and quickly making his way to the drivers side, he slides in and instantly starts the car.

He begins to drive down the road and out of the gated neighborhood, he puts his hand on your trembling thigh, glancing over at your wrecked face.

“My love, just wait til’ you see what I have waiting for you when we get home.”

[oscar-lettjohanssonloveme]

Glide (Miss Venable x reader)

a/n: hello :3 here we have another song fanfiction whoohoo- uhm Glide (by Lxandra) don't expect too much haha.. its angsty i guess lol :7 oh and its really long-

summary: I am really bad at this holy shit.. I guess its about the “"relationship” between you and Miss Venable (relationship is a weird word-)

warnings: alcohol, talking about depression and suicide (but nobody's actually depressed), notes of sex 

google translate :’D

"So, Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon finally said as he stepped around the table to stand in front of you.

"After telling me about your homosexuality, I would like to know if you are currently in love?"

You narrowed your eyes at the man in front of you.

"What kind of stupid question is that? Is this the part where we braid each other's hair and talk about our high school crushes?"

"Answer. My. Question.", the Man growled.

"Okay okay," you muttered quickly. "Uhm, well let me think about it for a minute."

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

It all started when Miss Venable heard you scream one night.

You had been at Outpost 3 for a few months at this point and in all that time you hadn't spoken a lot and spent the entire time in your room except for meals.

The others didn't know much about you. They knew, you were one of the youngest residents of the Outpost and that you had left your family behind. And of course they knew your name. But that was all.

You spent a lot of time thinking about your family. Your relationship with your parents wasn't ideal, but you still missed them. And if you had known a year ago where you were today, you would have done a few things differently. Celebrating Christmas with them one last time, vacationing with them, simply spending the time peacefully with them instead of arguing.

Usually you cried quietly to yourself, with your head buried under your pillow, hoping, that everyone would forget you existed,  but crying wasn't enough tonight and after dinner you snuck into the kitchen to steal a bottle of the red wine, that you smuggled into your room afterwards.

It was now 1 a.m., the bottle was almost empty, and hours ago you had started tossing the items you had in your room. Your clothes were scattered on the floor, while you had tossed the boring books from the library against the wall. Your bed was a complete disaster and in all your anger you had torn the sheets. There were red wine stains on your pillows, which had almost slipped into the blazing fire of the fireplace after you tossed them off the bed.

And now all you could do was scream.

"Fuck you!" You shouted as you staggered in the room with the alcohol in one hand.

"Fuck you all! Fuck this apocalypse, fuck this outpost, fuck-"

"Miss Y / L / N" interrupted you a loud voice behind you and made you turn around.

Miss Venable was standing in the doorway in front of the locked door, staring at you in confusion.

"Ever heard of knocking?" You grumbled and hid the bottle behind your back.

"I knocked," Miss Venable hissed, her gaze wandering angrily over your chaos.

"And if you hadn't screamed so loud, you would probably have heard it. What the fuck do you think of making such a noise here at night? Stealing alcohol as well?"

"I uh- caught," you muttered as you put the bottle on the round table in front of you.

"Do you know what's really funny? We don't have anything to eat, but there is no end of alcohol. Whoever came up with that must be pretty stupid."

"It was my idea. I am in charge here, in case you forgot."

"Oh right," you sighed and slapped your forehead with the palm of your hand.

"Shit, well, i'm sorry, but what was your name again?"

"You forgot my name?" Asked Miss Venable sharply with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," you muttered before collapsing onto your messy bed.

"But I know it was something weird."

Miss Venable glared at you, which of course you couldn't see because you were buried with your face in your blanket.

"Hopefully you realize this will be punished," she growled.

"Oh suck my dick", you grumbled. "You enjoy punishing others, don't you? You are a little psychopath"

You laughed softly into your blanket and noticed how you became more and more sleepy. You almost fell asleep if Miss Venable hadn't tapped her stick loudly on the floor.

"You will start cleaning up here immediately, otherwise it will be the last night you spend in this outpost."

"Oh shut up. You are totally mean to me," you moaned and pouted at the angry woman.

"Why are everyone always so mean to me? I haven't done anything wrong."

You got up on shaky legs to walk past her to the door, but you tripped and fell against Miss Venable.

"Wow," you mumbled as you stared into her brown eyes with your glassy ones and grabbed hold of her hips.

"I may not know your name, but I know,  that you are really pretty"

"What the fuck is wrong withyou ?! "

Wilhemina pushed you away from her so that you stumbled backwards and landed on the floor.

You stared out at her with hurt eyes as tears welled up in your eyes.

"I didn't do anything," you yelled at Miss Venable, who was still leaning on her stick in front of you.

"It's not my fault, that you're beautiful. Be happy, others are ugly."

"That's enough," growled Miss Venable as she took a step towards you and grabbed your arm to pull you up.

"You're going to bed now."

"I'll do nothing," you mumbled and tried to pull yourself out of her grip, but you were way too drunk to use enough strength and she could push you like a doll on the bed.

You laughed again.

"Guess what, my bed is big enough for both of us, isn't that funny?"

You looked up at her playfully, or at least you tried.

"You beautiful woman. We-"

"Your behavior is disgusting," she interrupted as she leaned over to grab your chin. Immediately you fell silent.

"And my name is Miss Venable."

She looked down at you dangerously and you saw fire in her eyes when you started laughing out loud.

"Haha Miss Venable, I told you it was something weird," you shouted before you started screaming out loud.

"Miss Venable is beautiful whohoo. Can you all hear me? Miss Venable is beautiful. She-"

"What the hell", Miss Venable cut you off again and took her hand from your jaw to put it on your mouth.

"Are you going to be quiet at last?"

"M'sorry," you hummed against her hand and Miss Venable could see from the wrinkles around your eyes, that you were grinning under her hand.

"I want you to go to sleep now and clean up the chaos here tomorrow, do you understand me?" She asked in a sharp voice. But you just glared at her and wanted to bite her hand when she repeated her question.

"Do you understand me?" She barked louder and this time you nodded quickly.

"Good," she said happily as she took her hand from your mouth and straightened up again.

"Fuck you," you mumbled quietly and watched unhappily as the woman went to the sofa across from the fireplace and sat on it.

"Can't you just go?" You moaned as she leaned her cane against the edge of the sofa.

"Oh I'll go," she replied while staring into the fire.

"When you fell asleep."

You groan in annoyance.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Oh come on," you sighed and pulled your blanket over your head so she couldn't see you.

It was actually your plan to wait for her to go away, but at some point (who knows how much time had passed) you actually fell asleep.

Living my life in a bubble

Sometimes reality's too much for me

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Your love it gets me into trouble

Sometimes your gravity's too much for me

(It gets me weak in the knees)

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

A week had passed and not much had happened. The next morning you woke up alone and with a big hangover and barely remembering what had happened the previous evening. Miss Venable had forced you to clean up the mess in your room after she had punished you for stealing the alcohol and as attractive as this woman was, she seemed genuinely angry about what had happened, even though it was actually nothing special. At least that's what you thought, but you couldn't remember either.

The world had ended and her problem was, that you had stolen a bottle of wine and ravaged your room. You wondered how fucked up her life must have been before the apocalypse, if that bothered her. And she wasn't the only one you wondered about.

The other residents of the outpost were all disgusting.

"Why do we have to eat this shit?"

"When are we getting out of here?"

"Why is life so unfair and let me be here with you idiots?"

You hate those ungrateful assholes. Everyone was dead and their only problem was, that they were still alive.

Other people deserved it so much more and the fact that mankind's only hope was in these conceited, stupid assholes seemed like a joke.

When you lay in bed that day and stared lost at the ceiling, you had lost all reference to reality. You didn't know what day it was or what month you were in. You also didn't know whether the last meal you ate was lunch or dinner, although a glance at the clock would have been enough. But you got tired of staring at the clock and watching the second hand, hoping something would happen.

Nothing changed anyway. And all you felt was that big feeling of loneliness that completely filled you. You were a very emotional person and all you wanted was someone who was normal. But everybody in this outpost was a huge disappointment. Conceited assholes, intimidated Grays and Miss Venable, who enjoyed punishing people.

Probably you would have started talking to yourself, but thank god you weren't there yet.

Sometimes you thought, it might be easier, if you opened up to others. But your body had become like a prison and you kept every thought trapped deep inside you because it did not match those of the others. Stupid assholes.

And while you continued to sink into your self-pity, you would probably have fallen asleep, if you hadn't been bothered by the sudden knock on your door.

"Fuck off," you moaned while staring angrily at the door, but the person standing in front of it only knocked one more time.

Asshole, you thought before reluctantly climbing out of bed to open your door.

"I said you should f- Oh Miss Venable," you stared at the woman in front of you.

"Are you here to punish me again for something pointless? If so, I can assure you it won't be necessary .. The wounds from last time still hurt, if you care."

Miss Venable screwed up her eyes.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, actually I don't care, but if it still hurts, you seem to have learned your lesson," she replied coldly and you just snorted in annoyance.

"What do you want from me?"

"You are obviously depressed-" she started and you interrupted her immediately.

"What is that shit supposed to mean? I'm not depressed, I'm just sad. And since when have you been interested in how I'm doing?"

You glared at her with narrowed eyes, but her face still had the same deadly serious expression.

"You've been sad for a long time, don't you think?"

"I- uh".

You looked at her confused.

"All my friends are dead, it's only logical that I feel that way .. I find it rather questionable, that I'm the only one here, who feels that way."

"So?" Miss Venable raised an eyebrow, which made you even more insecure.

"I don't really care how you feel either. I just don't feel like wiping your blood off should you decide to kill yourself."

"Suicide isn't always bloody," you muttered.

"And because we don't have any doctors here-"

"By the way, that's the stupidest thing of all. You know, we have a hairstylist, but no doctors, you also notice that it doesn't make any sense, right?" You interrupted her and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

And again Miss Venable ignored your words and finished her sentence, which you had interrupted.

"..I thought that would help too."

Your eyes widened when you saw what she was pulling out from behind her back and immediately you started laughing.

"Are you serious? First you punish me brutally for stealing a bottle of red wine and now you come to give me one?" You laughed and stared down at the bottle she was holding out to you.

"What's worse is, that you think alcohol is replacing therapeutic treatment. That's pretty sad to be honest, Miss Venable."

Wilhemina narrowed her eyes.

"It's not sad, I just prefer red wine stains instead of stains from your blood," she growled.

"You can't possibly be serious," you mumbled and suddenly had to grin.

"You enjoyed punishing me, right? And now you're coming, because you need a reason to do it again."

"Oh come on," Miss Venable rolled her eyes.

"Take the bottle or don't take it, it's just an offer."

You were still staring at her in amazement. What was wrong with her that she thought this action would solve your problems? Another proof of how fucked up everything was and that the only person you could count on was yourself.

"Uhm, well thank you, Miss Venable," you stuttered and reached for the bottle.

"If you come over every evening and bring me a bottle, your diagnosis may work and I will have very different problems, than my sadness."

"Not funny," muttered Miss Venable, her lips pressed together.

"Well, good evening, Miss Y / N."

She turned around and started to leave and you could only stare after her in confusion. Evening?

Then you actually had dinner earlier, even though you could have sworn it was only lunch.

"Maybe you want to join me-?" You asked suddenly and were just as surprised by this question as Miss Venable, who turned to you.

"What?"

"I don't think getting drunk on my own would be fun," you added, stepping nervously from one foot to the other.

"You did it a week ago," replied Miss Venable and in the torchlight you could see the lines of confusion on her face.

"But I never said it was fun," you smiled crookedly as your grip tightened on the neck of the bottle.

"And I think it would be nicer to do that, in the presence of another person. Especially since you've already seen me drunk."

You looked at Miss Venable expectantly, although you did not know exactly what you were doing. It was probably just your desperate attempt to get someone's attention, simply because everyone, who has ever cared about you was dead. And you knew Miss Venable might not be the best choice. But while the others complained aloud about their suffering and argued about who was worse off, Miss Venable didn't show such feelings and kept her thoughts to herself. A circumstance with which you could somehow identify.

"Okay," Miss Venable finally muttered, surprising you one more time that day.

"Well, great," you said before stepping out the door frame to go back to your room. You sat on the other end of the sofa, across from where she sat a week ago. In your hand there was still the bottle of red wine and for whatever reason you were ashamed of this situation. Miss Venable brought you alcohol because she thought, you could use it to manage your sadness, or depression (as she called it). And if she had actually meant well, which was actually questionable with her, then you had to make a pretty pathetic impression on others.

"You cleaned up the mess," you heard Miss Venable's voice behind you, but it was more of a determination than an acknowledgment.

"And I just noticed that we have no glasses at all".

Your shoulders sagged at her words and for a moment you were afraid she would leave. But you heard her close the door behind her before she went to the sofa and sat down on the exact same place, that she had been sitting on a week ago.

You watched the woman confused, leaning her cane against the sofa.

Her gaze lifted to you and she stared at you as expectantly as you looked at her confused.

"What are you waiting for? Go into the kitchen and get glasses," Miss Venable uttered.

You blinked in surprise.

"I- I didn't know that was a request," you muttered before jumping up from the sofa to run from your room into the kitchen.

When you ran back to your room 5 minutes later with two wine glasses, Miss Venable was still sitting on the ugly fabric sofa just as she had done a few minutes earlier. And somehow there was something aesthetic about it.

Personally, you thought it was ridiculous, that everyone had to adapt to the Victorian style, just because she wanted to. But it was perfect for Miss Venable. As if it was made for it. Her red hair, which she always pinned up so strictly, then her almost black eyes and the lipstick. Also her pale skin and her cane. Even her strict personality perfectly matched the style of clothing.

"Do you want to stay in the door frame and stare at me, or are you finally coming now," Wilhemina hissed suddenly without moving even an inch and immediately a slight blush rose in your face.

"M'sorry," you muttered and quickly closed the door before going back to the sofa. After you sat down, you put the glasses in front of you on the table, where the wine bottle was now.

"I was just wondering," you explained as you poured the wine into your glasses.

"Why the Victorian style of all things?"

"Why not? It looks good," replied Miss Venable, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Well," you began before turning to give her her glass.

"The world is ending and you make us wear 10kg dresses, because you think it looks good?"

"Any better idea?" Miss Venable asked back, putting the glass to her lips.

"Uhm I, i don't know," you stuttered and watched Miss Venable as she drank her wine.

"Don't we have to be prepared somehow or something like that?"

You heard Miss Venable laugh quietly into her glass.

"Prepared?" She repeated with a small grin and put her glass back on the table.

"On what? For the aliens to come and get us out of here?"

You shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know," you mumbled before you put your glass to your lips to take a sip of the bitter liquid and while you were drinking you could feel her gaze digging into your skin.

"By the way, I also find it very questionable what kind of people live in this outpost," you added, setting your Glas next to hers on the table.

Wilhemina let out a laugh. It was one of those laughs that you couldn't tell whether it was meant honestly or sarcastically.

"I'm not surprised you say that," she muttered.

"Is my dislike of the others that obvious?" you asked confused.

"I don't know if obviously this is the right word .. But what I do know, is that you always look disgusted when you see them, so I'm assuming you don't like them and to be honest, I like them neither.

Your confusion turned to laughter.

"Well," you said.

"With you it is obvious that you don't like any of them."

"These people are just as competent as they were poor. They are only here because of their money," she said disapprovingly.

You sighed thoughtfully.

"It's kind of sad, that money was the way in here. Scientists would have been so much more valuable. I'm only here because my grandfather had the money."

"What did you do before the apocalypse?" She asked you and you were surprised by this honest question.

"I went to college to study history," you replied when your gaze wandered into the fire.

"So I can  judge that the Victorian style wasn't the most practical choice."

You heard Miss Venable snort in annoyance and you couldn't help but grin.

"And what did you do before the apocalypse?" You asked, turning your gaze back to her. Miss Venable seemed as surprised by your question as you were by hers.

"It's a little tricky," she began. "Basically, I built human robots."

"Robots?"

"Robots."

For a moment you stared at her in amazement. Miss Venable had averted her gaze from you and directed it to the wine glass in front of her.

"M'sorry, but if you've built human robots, why are you letting real people, the Grays, work for us? Wouldn't robots have been revolutionary in an apocalypse?"

Unlike you, Miss Venable seemed totally unaffected by this.

You watched as the redhead reached for her wine glass and took another sip of the blood red liquid.

"You are asking too many questions for my taste, Miss Y / L / N," said Miss Venable softly, putting her glass back on the table. And even though she kept her voice low, you could hear her indirect threat.

"To be honest, I'm amazed, that I'm the only one asking questions," you replied, trying to make eye contact with the woman next to you again, but Miss Venable's gaze was tied to the blazing fire in the fireplace and you could see a dark glint in their eyes.

"You shouldn't get involved in things that are none of your business," she said suddenly in a monotonous voice. "All over the world there are survivors and it is not your job to question my system, nobody has the right to do so. You are just one stupid survivor of many, nothing more"

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

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

"Oh c'mon," you moaned and ran your tousled hair.

"God must hate me".

You stood on shaky legs from the library floor, that you fell on after stumbling into the room. You brushed the dirt off your skirt and realized with gritted teeth, that it was ruined.

"Seems like someone is having a bad day," you suddenly heard a voice say and immediately your mood worsened.

You straighten up again to meet Miss Venable's eyes. The woman sat on the right of the two leather sofas and with one hand clutched her cane, which was propped on the floor.

"Fuck you", you hissed before you let yourself fall on the sofa across from her.

"Oh, someone is having a very bad day," added Miss Venable, and you didn't have to look at her to see, that she was amused by your behavior,

"Yes, my day sucks and guess what, it's all your fault," you growled and glared angrily at her stick.

"When I got up this morning and wanted to leave my room, I got stuck in the door with my blouse and the whole sleeve was torn. Did you also notice, how much you sweat in these clothes? It's really hard to go at the toilet with these clothes .. I'm sorry, but what the hell was your idea, when you decided to give us a Victorian dress code? Did you have to make our life after the apocalypse even harder ? "

You pressed angrily your lips together and screwed up your eyes.

"You are the only person who complains about it," said Miss Venable and sounded not quite as amused as a minute before. You let out a dry laugh.

"The others are too scared of you, to tell you that," you said bitterly.

"Besides, what the hell are you doing here?"

You tore your gaze away from her stick to look directly into her dark eyes.

"Why shouldn't I be here?"

"Because you're never here and you didn't look like someone who'd like to hang out with Mr. Gallant or Coco."

"Well, neither Mr. Gallant nor Miss St. Pierre Vanderbilt are here right now, right? And besides, I could ask you the same thing", Miss Venable replied indifferently and somehow she was right. It was also a rarity to see you in the library as you actually spent most of the time in your room.

"I suppose my great sadness is over now .. or as you called it 'depression'. I'm more in the mood right now, that I don't care and I am angry at everything and now you are my victim. Your lipstick is smeared by the way", you sighed, although that was actually a lie, her lipstick was perfect as always. But in fact her eyes widened slightly and you couldn't help but enjoy this view.

"You're lying," hissed Miss Venable and you had to grin.

"Maybe".

You shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe you'd better go and see, or you risk the others seeing you ruined makeup."

It was obvious that Miss Venable was a perfectionist woman and she wasn't going to let her position of power be challenged over a smeared lipstick. On the other hand, you were an extremely bad liar and Miss Venable wasn't stupid.

"You're lying," she repeated, only with her lips pressed together, giving you the sense of achievement you wanted.

"Mhh Miss Venable," you hummed as your eyes found her stick again.

"This cane .. when I saw you for the first time, I wondered if it was just a symbol of power or if you really needed it-"

"..And then you saw me walk with it," added Miss Venable with a bitter tone in her voice.

"Oh no," you quickly shook your head.

"It wasn't your walk that gave me the confirmation that you really need the stick. It could never be your walk, you walk so majestically with that stupid thing, that even people, who don't really need a cane and only use it as an accessory would look handicapped next to you."

It was probably a rather desperate attempt to put the whole thing in a compliment and Miss Venable did not answer your words either, but you could see in the glow of the fire how her pale skin turned a light red shade and that was enough for you.

"It was your grip to be honest," you continued.

Miss Venable frowned.

"My grip?"

"Yes," you nodded and started playing with the fabric of your skirt.

"Your fingers are always clenched so tightly around the handle, as if you wanted it to break through. As if you were trying to strangle it or something like that, i dont know."

The furrow on Wilhemina's forehead only got a little wider with your words.

"You seem to spend a lot of time watching what my hands are doing," she mumbled and this time it was you, who blushed.

"It was just an observation, that I made on the side," you stammered quickly when you realized, that from one moment to the next the conversation had taken a completely wrong direction. Miss Venable did not answer again and you did not have the courage to look her face again and so the next few seconds were filled with an embarrassing silence, although you could imagine that Miss Venable was enjoying your discomfort.

"May I take a look at your cane-?" You finally asked to break the silence.

"You want to take a look at my cane?" Repeated Miss Venable, surprised with raised eyebrows.

"Only if it's okay," you said quickly.

"You are the first person, who asks me that".

Miss Venable looked thoughtfully down at her cane, which was still in her hand.

"As I said, the others are too scared of you-"

"The others don't care," Miss Venable interrupted, and you didn't know if she was sad about it or if she didn't care. But we're talking about Wilhemina Venable, she probably didn't care.

The red-haired woman sighed before holding out her stick to you.

You grinned and tried to grab the staff, but before your fingers could touch the wood, Miss Venable pulled it back again.

"How can I be sure, that you won't break it up and use it to make firewood?", She asked you and you looked at her in horror.

"I would probably be the last person to do that," you said indignantly.

"On the contrary, I think you would be the only person in this outpost who would dare to."

Miss Venable held out her stick to you again and this time she let you reach for it.

You immediately noticed how light the wood was in your hand as you carefully ran your fingers over the stick.

"What kind of wood is that?" You asked quietly without looking up from her walker.

"I guess it was blackthorn".

Your fingers moved on to the handle of the stick, which was probably the most interesting thing. A metal handle in the shape of a raven skull served as a support for the hand.

"Doesn't that hurt?".

You lifted your gaze back to Miss Venable, who obviously didn't understand what to do with your question.

"Well, if I had to support myself with all my weight on this skull, it would hurt," you added and Wilhemina just shrugged her shoulders.

"Uhm, it's a beautiful cane," you muttered, handing it back to her.

"May I ask why you need it?"

"I don't know what this should have gotten to do with you," replied Miss Venable, not sounding as nice as before. If you could call it "nice".

"Okay okay, taboo subject, I got it," you said quickly, desperately searching your head for anything to keep the conversation going.

"Do you actually enjoy it? To have control over everyone here? And know that, that almost everyone is afraid of you?", You finally asked and leaned back against the sofa.

"You asked me that a few weeks ago, when you were drunk," remarked Miss Venable, looking down at her gloved fingers, which were wrapped around her cane again.

"Really?" You asked confused.

"More or less. It was more of an accusation."

"An accusation?"

Miss Venable hummed in agreement.

"I told you, that you would be punished for your behavior and you said I would enjoy it."

"I understand," you mumbled, still staring hard at her face.

"What else happened that evening?"

A smug smile danced on Wilhemina's lips and she took a moment to consider your question.

"Well, you made fun of my name," she finally began as she drummed her fingers on the skull-like handle of her stick.

"And then you said, that I was pretty and that I should be happy about it, because other people are ugly."

Your eyes froze as her words entered your brain.

Wrong turn. Wrong turn.

"Uhm .. You know, when I'm drunk I tend to perceive things a lot more intensely than they actually are and then I exaggerate occasionally," you tried desperately to get yourself out of this situation, but Miss Venable just let out a loud laugh and you realized, that you had failed miserably. You cleared your throat briefly and sat up straight again.

"You haven't answered my question yet," you said, trying to change the subject again.

"I wanted to know, if you enjoy all of this."

"Do I enjoy it if you don't obey my rules? No, I don't enjoy that, why should I?" Miss Venable said and again had that indifferent sound in her voice. Of course you knew that she had bypassed your question and that was enough to prove, that she enjoyed her monarchy in Outpost 3.

"You said earlier, that you had got over your grief. That's good to hear," said Miss Venable, and this time she was the one who changed the subject.

"I thought you didn't care what I felt".

You smiled contentedly and cocked your head. Somehow you liked this game of mutual debunking.

"I don't care either, I just wanted to be polite."

Your smile widened when you saw her fingers clench a little tighter around her stick.

"Miss Venable and polite, I don't think this is a well-working combination," you teased her and in the glow of the fire you could see her roll her eyes.

"You were a lot less tiring, when you were crying in your room all day," she muttered disapprovingly.

Why should it be such a struggle

When it means so much to you and me?

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Built like a ship in a bottle

Gotta handle you so delicately

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

I don't know what we got

But I know what I want

The silence is killing me softly

What. The. Fuck.

When you arrived at the Outpost a few months ago, you couldn't even have imagined in your deepest dreams, that you would ever end up in this situation.

You lay on your back, still staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you tried to stabilize your breathing. Only now did you notice, that you had your arms wrapped around your chest and that your fingernails were digging painfully into the flesh of your shoulder. Your body lay rigid in her bed and you couldn't move an inch. You desperately tried to put the things that had happened in the right order.

Was it a stupid idea to go in Miss Venable's Bedroom? Yes, definitely. In retrospect, you didn't even know what exactly you wanted there. And actually you should have disappeared, after you saw that Wilhemina hadn't even been there. But no, of course your curious ass had to inspect her entire room.

And by the time Miss Venable came out of her bathroom in her pajamas, you had already started counting in your head how many punches Miss Mead was going to give you as punishment. You had definitely crossed the line.

But it turned out very differently than expected. Miss Venable had been angry anyway, very angry, but her anger was not expressed in words. The woman had pressed you against the wall and before you could do anything about it, her hand had slipped under your skirt, between your legs and Miss Venable had broken her own rule.

Of course you could have pushed her away, but it felt so right. You wanted so badly for someone to pay you attention and Miss Venable had kind of given you just that, when she pressed you against the wall and fucked you senselessly.

The whole thing was just so emotionless. You hadn't been able to look at her. You were ashamed of every sound you made, and if Miss Venable hadn't put her hand over your mouth, everyone in the Outpost would probably have heard you scream.

Which wouldn't have been so practical, because this man had come here a few days ago and you knew he was interviewing all the residents for the sanctuary and it wouldn't have been very beneficial for you if he'd caught you, breaking you down Venables rules. Regardless of the fact, that she had broken her rule herself.

Miss Venable hadn't said a single word about what had happened a few minutes ago, as if she had absolutely no need to justify herself.

She hadn't even looked at you when she took her hands off you and wiped them with a kleenex.

"You can sleep here tonight," she had muttered.

"It would be noticeable if you left my room now."

And now you lay next to her in bed and tried to understand all of this. Your dress was messy on the floor and all you had on was your underwear. After your fingers relaxed, you had pulled the blanket, that she wordlessly gave you over you and clung desperately to the fabric.

You had calmed down and could now hear her breathing next to you. The fact, that she was just lying next to you and probably sleeping was disturbing. At least, she could have apologized, right? Although, that didn't make sense either, because you obviously enjoyed what had happened.

You carefully turned your head towards her and saw, that her back was turned to you. And you wondered if she was really sleeping or just pretending. Miss Venable had become your most private contact in the outpost and you didn't really know what that actually meant.

You wanted so badly to touch her, but you didn't know if you had the right to do so. Only now did you notice the scars on her back, that shone through the light nightgown. Add to that the snake-like curve of her spine and suddenly you understood why she needed her stick.

"You have scoliosis," you said your thoughts out loud and you heard her hold her breath.

"Congratulations," she hummed miserably.

"You figured it die out."

You nervously began to chew your lower lip.

"Did I make anything wrong?" You asked quietly.

"Ask yourself how you got into this situation, then you will know."

"I- do you want me to go?", Your voice sounded sadder than you actually wanted.

When Miss Venable didn't answer, you felt tears welling up in your eyes as the feeling of fear grew inside you. You screwed it up. Probably the next evening you would end up like Stu as stew.

"No," Miss Venable suddenly whispered before turning to you. The red-haired woman had a blank expression on her face while she watched you cry.

She raised her hand as if to wipe the tears from your face, but she lowered it again and you had to do it yourself.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"You're stupid if you apologize," Miss Venable replied bluntly.

"That was more than just unprofessional of me, I should have let you go and tomorrow you would have been punished."

You looked at her sadly.

"That's the only solution, isn't it? Punishment."

"I don't know exactly what you're getting at? It's actually quite simple. Those are my rules and whoever doesn't stick to them will be punished for it", Miss Venable looked at you unimpressed and you returned her gaze thoughtfully.

"What about Michael Langdon? Does he have to obey your rules too?" You finally asked.

"What does this mean?"

"Uhm well, I guess I've known you for 18 months now and the first time you seem scared."

Miss Venable raised her eyebrows.

"You don't know anything about me. I'm not even remotely an emotional chaos as you are."

Emotional chaos. Okay she had a point. You blinked a few times to force the tears, that were still glistening in your eyes back down.

"I don't know if emotional chaos is the right word," you muttered.

"You should think less about your stupid feelings," Miss Venable sighed, turning away from you again.

"They've only got you in trouble so far if you ask me."

You pressed your lips together and had to suppress an angry comment, that would only confirm her accusation. Your eyes stared at her back again. The red curls of her long hair had slipped behind her shoulders and were now curling on her back. You would have loved to stretch out your hand to touch it. You would have loved to curl up in her arms to feel safe for the first time in over a year. You wanted to kiss her. Or at least hold her hand. Anything. Just a little bit of their affection would have been enough and you would have been happy. It probably all sounds kind of selfish, because she fucked you a few minutes ago. The whole thing just wasn't particularly loving. You felt like a disgusting animal and now you wanted her to show you, you weren't. Miss Venable was only a few inches away from you and all you had to do was hold out your hand and you would feel her warmth. But while it was actually only a few centimeters, you realized, that there were worlds between you and this woman and that she was probably never further away from you than at this moment.

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

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

Wilhemina Venable had a great talent at pretending everything was fine.

As if nothing happened. Nothing had changed in the days after that night.

Since Michael Langdon was at the Outpost, she avoided private contact with you and the fact, that you had shared a bed didn't change that. In addition, she was just as disgusting to you in front of the others as always and that was nothing new either. And while Wilhemina no longer seemed to care about what had happened between you two, at the same time it almost killed you.

You actually expected, that she would want to talk to you about it again, but nothing had happened and that made you angry. Miss Venable would always deny it, but she was the only one who cared about you. And you appreciated her weird way of paying attention to you so much.

The only problem was, you couldn't even begin to imagine, what was going on in her head. While you were acting like a lovesick teenager, the only thing you saw of her was her deadly serious face.

Oh and Miss Venable was right, you were a fucking emotional mess. Since you woke up the next morning in her empty bed, you have cried a lot again and spent a lot of time in your room, but this time Miss Venable would probably not come to offer you alcohol as medication.

It was the afternoon of any day and you were sitting on the floor, leaning against your bed. In one hand you held a pair of scissors, while in the other you held the skirt of your dress. You were still not used to wearing long skirts after so many months and you still kept poking around at yourself, when walking through the outpost, so you decided to cut your skirts short. Of course you knew, that Wilhemina would probably kill you, if she saw you, breaking her sacred dress code, but fuck Wilhemina. At least you could finally walk properly again.

The triple knock on your door made you look up from your work and you got up to go to the door. You probably should have known it was Miss Venable who knocked. Who else has been interested in you, in the past few months?

"We need to talk," said the red-haired woman firmly, without looking at you.

You just nodded and stepped out of the door frame to make room for her.

For a brief moment you were afraid, that Miss Venable would get angry about the dress, that was lying shortened on the floor next to the scissors, but she just ignored it and stood across from you.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, I'm just here to ugh- "

Miss Venable was interrupted by you when you, you stupid idiot, reached for her face to angrily press your lips against hers. The kiss only lasted a second in total, because Miss Venable immediately pushed you away from her and the next thing you felt was her hand lashing angrily against your right cheek. A horrified gasp escaped your lips and you looked at Wilhemina in horror as you rubbed your cheek.

"If you do that again, I'll kill you," the redhead growled, glaring at you angrily.

You looked at her hurt and felt tears start to sting in your eyes.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"Oh of course you are," hissed Miss Venable.

"What the hell were you thinking of?"

"I just- I don't know," you stuttered desperately.

"I think I love you".

Miss Venable's eyes narrowed and she looked like she was going to punch you again.

"This is not love, this is despair, you stupid thing."

"Despair?" You breathed in horror.

"How else would you describe your behavior?" She spat and angrily started knocking her stick on the floor.

"I mean, look at you. You are a total mess. Either you cry in your room all day or you are angry at everything and everyone. You are the only person, who ruins her clothes. You are the one which most often breaks my rules, just because you are too unable to deal with your feelings. You know, everyone can handle what happened, except you, because you are so damn selfish. But you have to wake up.. Do you think, that was what I wanted, when you cried into my bed a few days ago? Oh no. And I know that, was my fault too. You know, everything what I want, is that you obey my rules, but that seems to be too much for your incompetent ass ", Wilhemina scolded and angrily knocked her stick on the floor.

"And now you come and say you love me."

She shook her head.

"As I said, this is not love, this is despair. And I don't know what kind of answer you were hoping for, from me, but let me be clear: In my opinion, of all the residents of the Outpost, you are the most pathetic and I hate you, I really do and you're sick if you even thought it would be different. "

You stared at her in shock. The feeling, that rose in you at that moment was indescribable. A mixture of disgust, shame and anger. But also the feeling of betrayal. And you couldn't say who these feelings were for, for you or for Wilhemina.

"Y-you hate me?" You stuttered, wiping the back of your hand over your cheek to remove your tears.

"I hate everyone in this outpost, that includes you too," hissed Miss Venable.

You shook your head in disbelief.

"I don't believe you," you whispered.

"I still believe, that you are scared and that is why you act like that."

"Mister Langdon will interview you tomorrow," said Miss Venable without responding to your comment.

"If you tell him anything about what happened a few days ago, I promise you will wish you were never born. With your condition, you probably won't be in the sanctuary anyway, but I will don't let me spoil this opportunity from you. Do you understand me? "

You shook your head.

"I don't understand what your problem is suddenly ... I asked you that evening if I should go and you said no."

"The whole thing was a mistake, nothing more", Miss Venable growled quietly and stepped past you to go to your door.

"I hate you and you hate me, that's all that's between us, you understand?"

You wanted to say something, but you decided not to, it didn't make any sense anyway.

"I understand," you said softly.

"Good," replied Miss Venable before turning and walking out of your room.

You stared after her sadly. Of course you didn't understand why she was suddenly so mad at you, but how could you? Miss Venable had wanted to end whatever was between you, so that she would not feel guilty if you were to be murdered by her in a few days. She had never meant to offend you, but she had to make it clear to herself, that she didn't love you. She just couldn't love you.

Show me freedom

'Cause love don't cost a thing

Give me freedom

Yeah don't just let me leave

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

"Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon barked and slapped the table with the palm of his hand. You winced and looked disturbed into the blond man's eyes.

"I asked you something".

He leaned down to you and his face was only a few inches from yours.

"Are you in love?"

You swallowed and blinked a few times, before you whispered softly:

"I am not."

The man leaned back and looked at you thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N," he finally sighed.

"You can go."

Without looking at the man again, you got up to run out of the room. You tripped and if you hadn't held onto the wall next to the door, you would have fallen. For a moment you leaned against the wall with your eyes closed and took a deep breath.

This man was disgusting and a little too intimate for your taste, no wonder, that no one liked him.

You opened your eyes again and realized, that Miss Venable was staring down at you as she leaned against the railing.

Your eyes were lost in hers, her almost black eyes in which the light of the torches is always reflected. You wanted to say something, but you were afraid, that she would leave and you didn't want that. Miss Venable had put on her indifferent expression as always and, as always, you did not know what was going on inside the woman.

Your lips formed a mute "fuck you" when you saw her turn away from you to move. And the faint tapping of her cane proved to you, that she was indeed leaving and you knew that she would not come back.

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Titanic Mothers (Mother’s Day 2021 Drabbles)

 Dedicated to all Mothers in the world, whether by birth, adoption or otherwise. Take the time to wish the woman who helped you become the person you are a very blessed Mother’s Day.

Of course I cannot have done this without thanking my pen pals @lightdusk96 @mothnem @wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever @fireflyxrebel-writes @tarisilmarwen @bluerene and many others 

So without further ado....

Arella Roth

 The peaceful, serene and calming orange tinted skies of Azarath are in many ways are therapeutic sort to admire under. For Arella, they are a perfect sort of skies to step outside for a nice and simple meditation. The Monks’ efforts in freeing her mind and grief in light of the numerous....series of events surrounding her entire life, whether being her harsh childhood and especially her unfortunate encounter with that bastard of a devil known as Trigon the Terrible, all of it had truly done some wonders in giving her a chance to appreciate life though clearly that grief runs deep, requiring an additional amount of effort on her end to counter it. 

 As Arella assumes lotus position on the balcony and lights two candles to her sides, she closes her eyes. She begins steadying her breathing and clears her mind...no easy feat though sine almost about a few seconds into clearing it, the scepter of Trigon and her tyrant of mother start coming in. The harsh words of shame, the demonic laughter, those taunts, the curses, they all start piling onto her mind, no her soul all at once. Her breathing starts picking up speed. She must remember what the Monks taught her....peace...find her inner peace...find what makes her find said peace...then within the blackened and harsh void of darkness clouding her mind...Arella sees it. That peace, a tiny stream of white light...a small bird. The bird starts getting closer, it’s wings start opening, dispelling the black void surrounding her...

  As her mind starts feeling the calming light clear it out, Arella peeks open her right eye very slightly, sure enough there she was. Her light, her inner peace, her white bird, her very daughter. 

 Little Rachel Roth, barely eight years of age as of now, was also in lotus position, practicing the very same meditation her mother was doing right now. She too looked at her meditating partner to her side and sure enough, both realize...’why stop now’ and both wordlessly give each other a small smile, a nod and both continue mediating. 

Arella, upon closing her eye back, says, “Okay, Rachel, now repeat after me...”

“Yes, Mom”

“Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos....”

Marie Logan

  “Garfield” Maire called out for maybe the fifth time, passing by the tall tree next their camper yet again.

  Her six year old little explorer of a boy had a tendency to run off whenever he was bored. Thankfully, he’d never venture into the nearby jungles or savannas the Logans visit too far, he always keep relatively close to make sure he knows his way back safely. Still, as a mother, Marie has her fair share of concerns for his well being since who knows what kind of animals he can run into this time. 

  However, the fifth time calling for him appears being the charm as sure enough, she can hear the branches creaking and the leaves rustling above her. Looking upward, sure enough, there he was, climbing down the gigantic branches with such agility before finally landing safely right next to her. His blond hair and crisp green eyes shone brightly as Garfield beams to his equally smiling mother. 

 “Found anything up there my explorer?” Marie asked while picking her son into her arms.

 “Nah”, Garfield replied, “plenty of birds like the manual said would ‘round here but they flew away”

 “Well, must be cause they didn’t want to hear about Wicked Scary just yet”, Marie says lightly giggling while ruffling her son’s hair, “maybe they just didn’t wanna get it spoiled you know?”

 Garfield sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, “Yeah, guess so.”

Dr. Elinore Stone

  Fixing her goggles, Dr. Stone narrowed her eyes within them ever so slightly. Next to her, ten year old Victor was equally wearing goggles but also adorably having oven mittens on his hands while holding on tightly to the beaker of green fluid over the larger one with orange fluid. 

 It was ‘Take Your Kids to Work Day’ at STAR Labs and both Elinore and her husband Silas had taken their son over to both explore where his parents’ worked at and even take part in a family friendly activity like this one. 

  Lightly guiding her gloved hands over Vic’s, the two together start pouring the green fluid from the beaker the latter was carrying very slowly into the one with the orange substance. The chemical reaction from the larger beaker was almost immediate since it started changing into a multitude of bright colors and bubbling. 

 “Alright son”, Elinore exclaimed proudly as her son beamed to her happily, “I think you’d just be quite the perfect chemi...” 

  KA-BOOM! 

  The lab immediately filled with a light with still irradiating cloud of smoke so rapidly that Silas immediately opened the windows to let the air clear. 

 As the smoke cleared out safely, both Elinore and Victor were thankfully completely fine aside the black soot covering their faces, their hair standing up embarrassingly, all the while Vic still holding onto that plastic beaker in his hands, muttering with a chuckle, “or not.” 

Empress Luand’r of Planet Tamaran 

  The royal gardens within the palace walls have always been a true sanctuary in many ways. In contrast to the barren and strip-mined prefectures right outside said palace walls, ravaged by years of constant fighting and war, the gardens housed a peaceful and tranquil environment that not provides the many fauna a suitable home, but also anyone who ventures within a calming place to contemplate and even find joy in spite of such harsh times befalling the planet.

 That’s very much the case for the very Empress of the Tamaraneans as she cannot help but find her smiling at not just the beautiful varying colors, pleasant aromas and lively calmness of the garden the bench she sits upon at this moment but also of the other resident currently enjoying herself alongside her. 

 Hearing a small voice giggle above her head, Luand’r beams proudly at the sight she sees: her seven planetary cycles of age old little Princess Koriand’r was floating in the air joyously and with such excitement, flying around the numerous branches and leaves of the fauna surrounding her, only stopping every now and then to have her brilliant green eyes observe closely of the leaves she floats right next to. 

 It was moments of pure innocence like this that always bring the purest joy within the usually lowkey Luand’r since through her, her husband Myand’r and especially their beloved ally and servant Galfore, Koriand’r and her siblings are actually given even int he smallest of doses a life outside of the constant bombardment and sirens their enemies bring on a consistent basis. If only there were some way, some means of escaping this perpetual worry and state of fear this war for their kind’s very sovereignty. If one such means exists, Luand’r here will ensure she and her people, especially her children, can take it. 

  A hug snaps the Empress out of her thoughts. Looking to her side, she sees Koriand’r wrapping her arms around her. No other options are needed since all the black-haired Tamaranean woman does is simply yet all too lovingly hug her red-haired daughter back.

   And so, Empress and Princess sit peacefully underneath the blossoming flowers and leaves of the royal garden, a truly fond way of doing the ‘spending quality time’ as a certain other species called Earthlings call it.

  Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson 

 Gripping the bar tightly, Mary pulls it back while bending her legs starting with tipping her toes over the edge of the platform. Now int position, she looks down from her post and  can clearly see the nets are firmly in place and secured well enough. In the very few instances they engage in practice sessions without the nets, as per their acts, it would be just John and her doing such since by now, years of practice and experience worldwide have taught them a thing or few about making sure not a single fall happens on their watch, lest it cause certain disaster. 

  However, this it wasn’t John that was up here with her for today but, looking to her side and giving him a proud thumbs up, instead was her eight year old son who also gives her a thumbs up. Just two months ago was his birthday on the first day of spring and since then, no ever since he first took to the trapeze ropes when he was four, Mary watched her Little Robin improve and grow with each session, each show and every single time he stands on that platform, taking a leap of faith with his hands on the bars, letting loose to perform a spin or flip in the air before once more stretching his arms to safety of both John and/or her. Today proves not too different, hopefully. Worst case for this, Dick or her fall to nets below instead of the hard sandy floor. 

  Leaping off the platform with bar in hand, Mary flew the calm free-of-audience noise air with perfect easy, before hearing that trademark crack of the ropes, signal her to let it loose and with a flip in the air transferred successfully to the second bar across from where her son and the platform are, the first bar she gripped on still in hand.  

 Returning the first bar back to where son is at, now it was on her to ensure he reached her after his turn to swing. As such, Mary began swing the bar she was on back and forth, gaining momentum with each addition swing, only increasing such until it was deemed ready. Sure enough, the bar was swinging at a good pace and now, being the naturally skill contortionist she is, Mary easily positioned the back of knees so that her calves were holding her on the swinging bar, she was hanging upside down if not for the swinging of said bar and most importantly her arms are firmly in a position to stretch as far as they can for a catch. Her part in the act was good to go, now it truly was her son’s turn to fly.

  With a nod, his own hands firmly on the bar, in position for the leap and now his mother across ready to catch him, Dick with a wide grin on his face takes the leap of the platform and swings on his bar across the air. This was it, this was the time he gets it right. The creaking of the ropes he waits for is heard, it was time to let the bar loose. Sure enough as he does so, tucking in his legs to his chest tightly, Dick has nothing to hold him but gravity itself. 

One....Here’s hoping Raymond and Calvin are seeing this 

Two....He can already hear the crowd gasping 

Three....Keep it tight and remember make sure you let arms stretch at the right moment Dad says. 

And......Four! Dick straightens out his body and stretches his arms as far as he can. 

 For the briefest of all moments, he was actually flying. Nothing carrying him, no sense of his own weight dragging him down. He was Superman at that moment. 

 Then he starts loosing his flight, gravity had set in. He stretches his arms just to tiniest bit hoping before air rushes he can....just a little bit....

 Sire enough, all too familiar hands clasps onto his own hand. That familiar calloused texture of the palms, the chalky powdery feeling...Dick looks up to all too familiar face, a very beaming and proud one on top of that 

 “I’ve got you” Mary says lovingly as she can while using her arms to carry her son safely, “Momma’s here, Little Robin.” 

  The two smile at each other with all too familiar love and happiness in their distinct pairs of blue eyes while Mary’s bar starts slowing down its momentum. Finally as it comes to near complete stop, it was time to safely descend to the safety net below. 

 Before letting her son’s grips slips from her hands, Mary pulls him up to where she can deliver a small kiss on his forehead.

 “You did great!” she exclaims happily. Just then, finally the bar’s swinging comes to stop, allowing Mary to finally lossen her grip on her son, allowing him to safely land on the net below, giggling lightly as he initially bounced on it. Just then, Dick rolled out of the way to give his mother enough space for own safe landing as she unhooks her legs from the trapeze bar and land on the net right next to him.

 Mother and son simply lay there on their sides of the net, panting after such an effort before Mary threw her arms around her little boy, hugging him close to her. “You’re learning so fast”, she says panting yet all to happily.

  Dick simply lays his head close to her, feeling her all too calming and steady heartbeat, relaxing the both of them. 

 “Happy Mother’s Day. Momma, Love you”, he whispers to her happily, as he wraps his own around her tightly 

 Mary can’t help but smile and even have tears of joy glisten her eyes. Pressing a few kisses on her son’s forehead, she whispers in turn, “And I Love you, so, so much, My Little Robin” 

[lettheladylead]

Your not going to lose me. Scroldie

I misread the prompt. Also I made this over the course of a day of traveling so it might make zero sense but I don't feel like rereading it so if it's nonsense then MY BAD

-

Scrooge sat at the table, reading the morning paper as per usual. He always enjoyed his morning rituals and patiently waited for his usual nutmeg tea to be placed in front of him.

Just a few moments later and it did exactly that. Scrooge smiled and looked around the paper to see the teacup. Immediately he was struck by the hand that was currently pulling away from his morning treat and his eyes followed the arm to see it was very much not connected to his housekeeper.

"G-Goldie?!" he stuttered out in shock.

"Hey there, hun," she greeted casually, as if this was the most normal scenario. "How's your morning going?"

He blinked at her and glanced around the room to see if Louie was around or something else strange was going on. "It's…going just fine. What are you doing here?"

Goldie smiled softly and raised a curious eyebrow at him before taking a seat on the table in front of him. She leaned over and let her hand glide across Scrooge's beak, stopping with her fingers tangled up in his whiskers. "Can't I greet my husband in the morning?"

Scrooge was too stunned to react. Was this some kind of con? What could she possibly get out of this? Just a chance to be in his house and steal anything she wanted? Or was she just trying to humiliate him by convincing him they've been married and he's such an old fogey he forgot? He’d never forget something like that.

He was so caught up in his paranoid thoughts that Scrooge didn't notice as Goldie leaned down and kissed him properly. As soon as their beaks touched he felt a jolt of electricity down his spine that told him that whatever was going on, he should enjoy this little moment and then be paranoid about it afterwards.

He kissed her back with what was clearly more fervor than she expected, based on her surprised moan and her hands moving to his shoulders. He stood up and placed himself between her legs, hands gripping his hips as they continued. Who needed nutmeg tea when he could have this?

After a few more moments of that, Scrooge pulled away and enjoyed the vision of Goldie looking thoroughly ravaged. Her hair was a bit messed up and her cheeks were red and her chest was rising and falling heavily with each breath.

Goldie smiled at him - and it was a smile that he'd have embedded in his memory for the rest of his life - and slid one of her hands down to his chest. "What was that for?"

He almost rolled his eyes, still not understanding the game they were playing. “Just enjoying my ‘wife.’”

She reached over and grabbed the nutmeg tea, taking a few sips while never breaking eye contact with him. Scrooge felt a shiver down his spine and she tilted the cup towards his beak so he could drink from it, too. It felt so intimate and domestic and...and nice that he started to think maybe he didn’t care if this was a trick.

As she put the cup back down, he leaned forward and lightly kissed her neck. She hummed happily and put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back into his seat. He obliged as she followed and straddled his lap, pressing her beak softly against his once again.

He felt like putty with her fingers in his whiskers and her breath against his skin. “Goldie…”

“I love you, Scrooge,” she mumbled in between kisses. “I’ll never leave you again.”

His fingers dug into her hips and he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion as he kissed back. “...what’s wrong, Goldie?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, kissing him still.

“You’re...why are you really here?” he responded, pulling away from her and putting his hands against the side of her face. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, so long as I’m with you,” she said softly. “Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

He blinked a few times and looked deeply into her eyes, trying to gauge her angle using his decades of experience with her. “It just is,” he said finally, squinting as Goldie’s eyes seem to darken.

“Scrooge…” Her tone was reminiscent of a time he’d disappointed her before, but Scrooge didn’t back down.

“I don’t understand why you’re here.”

Her eyes flickered again and he felt his heart leap. Maybe this was a trick in a different way than he thought.

“...Goldie?”

“Why can’t you just accept this?” she said sadly, her voice starting to shake in a way that felt unnatural.

Scrooge glared at her and pushed against her shoulders. She didn’t fight back, instead falling back and smacking into the edge of the table. She closed her eyes and he took note that she looked empty and hollow. Nothing about her felt bright and fun and exciting like she usually was. Nothing about this felt like her at all.

“...you’re not Goldie.”

Her eyes opened again to reveal bright yellow with deep triangular slits that immediately faded back to her normal green. But there was no questioning what he’d seen, and Scrooge slid his chair back and stood up in shock.

“What are you-?!” he spat at her, wiping a sleeve against his beak in disgust. “What’s wrong with you, you egomaniacal -”

She responded with a deep laugh and another look that sent shivers down Scrooge’s spine, but for decidedly different reasons. ���Just needed to distract you while I finished taking your dime.”

He looked even more confused as her blonde hair turned to black and the rest of her seemed to disappear in a mist of pink smoke.

Scrooge rushed towards the door so he could grab a phone, but when he opened it he was met with complete and utter darkness. Magica’s laughter hung in the air around him and he looked every which way as he backed away from the darkness that was slowly creeping into the dining room.

He closed his eyes tightly and tried to focus. This wasn’t real. He’d known it wasn’t real from the start and now his arch nemesis was going to steal his most treasured possession because he was too busy being a lovestruck fool.

Scrooge took a deep breath and grabbed the dime from around his neck, squeezing the coin tightly in his hand.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself laying in his bed, same as he last remembered. Before he could even consider that this whole thing had just been a dream, he heard the sounds of struggling coming from his floor. He sat up and witnessed the most unexpected site: Goldie holding Magica De Spell in a violent chokehold and demanding that she ‘undo her spell.’

“It’s done! Just-” Magica choked out and coughed. “Just let me go, you psychotic harpy!”

Goldie scoffed and let her go with a violent shove. “How am I the psychotic one here?”

Magica growled and kicked out at Goldie again for quickly jumping out the window and flying off on her newly acquired broom. “You haven’t seen the last of me, McDuck!” she shouted.

Goldie rushed to the window to make sure the witch was really gone and breathed out a sigh of relief.

“...Goldie?”

She turned to see Scrooge staring at her with the widest, most confused stare she’d ever seen. “Hey, Moneybags. You’ve got a real rat problem here, you know that?”

He blinked and tried to soak in everything he’d just seen. “Did you...save me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she said with a smirk, but he could hear that she was out of breath and her hair was sticking up in so many places it was clear she’d just been in quite the fight. “I stopped by for a visit only to find another woman in your bedroom. What else was I supposed to do?”

Another slow blink. He reached towards his chest and felt for the dime, but didn’t feel the string around his neck. Before his paranoia started to come up, Goldie tossed the dime at his face and he let out a loud “oof!” as it smacked into his forehead.

As the dime fell into his open palm, he thought about how this was definitely the Goldie he knew and loved.

He looked up at her with an expression of pure love and Goldie’s sarcastic comment was cut off by her own shock. She blushed and looked away from him for a second before glancing up again.

They silently stared at each other for a few moments. Goldie finally moved towards him and took a seat on the edge of the bed with a loud sigh. “Don’t make this into something it isn’t, but I’m tired as hell.” She laid down across his bed and closed her eyes. “So you can either go back to sleep or get to work, but I’m staying right here.”

Scrooge just stared at her for a minute as she snuggled under his comforter, her back to him and her eye makeup smudging against the pillow. He smiled brightly and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Stay as long as you’d like, dear.”

She hummed in response as Scrooge got out of his bed and shrugged on his morning robe. It wasn’t quite his usual time to wake up, but he needed to update his magical defenses. Goldie could wait til he came back.

[ibijau]

Price of Wishes / on AO3

Nie Huaisang learns a few things and has a mild breakdown over it

It will take a full three weeks for Nie Huaisang to get to Gusu for his second attempt at studying there, because he is such a weak flyer that just attempting the trip on Chiwen would kill him in about a shichen. 

That means three weeks of traveling with Lan Xichen, alone save for two pairs of other Nie disciples. Nie Huaisang must be paying for some crime he committed in a past life. This much time with Lan Xichen, this much time to stress over how the Lan will react to this new young master thrown into their midst… this is going to be torture. 

The first day doesn't go too badly though. Lan Xichen can ride a horse, which is a relief for sure. He also chats quite easily with the other disciples, asking about their lives like he cares, taking time to really listen to their answers. Of course, that too was on Nie Huaisang’s list, but he can't help being a little star struck at how perfect Lan Xichen is. If he were a real person, there's no way Lan Xichen would look twice his way, but he is so kind that sometimes Nie Huaisang almost forgets none of this is real. 

At night, they stop in a small inn on the side of the road. It isn't a very luxurious place, but everything is clean, and there's a pleasant smell coming from the kitchen. The down side is that there aren't a lot of rooms available, so they'll have to share. 

"Since one of the rooms can only take two people, I'll share with Nie gongzi," Lan Xichen offers. "Unless that is objectionable?" 

"Of course not, we trust Lan gongzi," Nie Tianru says with a laugh before Nie Huaisang can object. "And Nie gongzi will behave himself, right?" she adds with a wink. 

Nie Huaisang is mortified, his face aflame. He scampers away to order their dinner, ignoring the snickers of the Nie disciples, and Lan Xichen's gently amused smile. 

They all think he has a crush on Lan Xichen. Even Nie Mingjue does. Which is… it's not wrong. Lan Xichen is everything Nie Huaisang could ever want, except for the fact that he has no choice in this matter. 

Nie Huaisang eats his dinner quickly, and goes to bed at a much earlier hour than he ever would normally. His plan is to jump in bed so he can pretend to be asleep by the time Lan Xichen joins him. It's an excellent plan, but Lan Xichen spoils it by leaving the table at the same time as him and following him to their room. 

As far as inn rooms go, it's not a bad one. Well, Nie Huaisang guesses it's not bad. He barely looks around, half sick with nervousness. It is the first time in his life he's sharing a bedroom with someone outside his family, and of course with this situation, with the reason Lan Xichen exists… nothing between them has been particularly romantic so far, but maybe Lan Xichen was just waiting for the right moment, maybe he'll say something now that they're alone, or try to kiss him, or… 

"Nie gongzi, could I have a word with you?" Lan Xichen asks, suddenly standing far too close to Nie Huaisang. 

Nie Huaisang squeaks and leaps away. 

It's happening. 

Just because he asked for it, it's happening. 

He can't let this happen. 

"Lan gongzi, can't this wait?" he asks nervously. "I'm really tired, and we have to be up early. We don't want to get to Gusu late, right?" 

We don't want to get to Gusu at all, Nie Huaisang thinks, terrified of what will happen if the truth about Lan Xichen is uncovered. He will be in so much trouble. 

"You must miss you uncle and brother after so long," Nie Huaisang babbles, desperate to stop Lan Xichen from saying anything embarrassing. "I know I certainly miss them. Well, I miss Wangji anyway. I don't really miss master Lan. No offence! But, I mean, well, I mean…" 

He trails off, unnerved by Lan Xichen's calm smile. Nie Huaisang, already nervous by nature, keeps losing his cool whenever Lan Xichen smiles like this. 

"Nie gongzi, I'm sure my uncle and brother are wonderful people," Lan Xichen says, his voice deep and soothing. "But we are both aware that I have never actually met them yet, so I cannot say I miss them, that would be a lie." 

Lan Xichen continues smiling peacefully, while Nie Huaisang’s blood turn into ice. The shock of that casual admission is such that his legs start giving under him, and he’d have fallen on the floor if the bed weren’t so close. He stumbles toward it, just barely managing to sit on it before the trembling of his legs becomes too great to stand. Even like this his body feels heavy, and his chest so tight he might just puke out of nervousness.

“What… what are you?” Nie Huaisang manages to ask.

He regrets asking, because Lan Xichen walks closer, kneeling next to the bed so their heads are at the same level. It’s meant as a comforting gesture, Nie Huaisang guesses, but really it’s just terrifying him.

“Are you something evil?” Nie Huaisang insists, all too aware it’s a stupid question to ask. He’s on the verge of tears, and wishes everything could go back to normal… but it’s wishing that got him in trouble in the first place, so that’s probably not a solution, is it?

“I don’t believe I am evil,” Lan Xichen says, lifting his hand to touch Nie Huaisang’s shoulder, only to stop midway when Nie Huaisang flinches. Lan Xichen’s smile falls, replaced by what appears to be sincere concern. “You really fear me so much?”

He sounds disappointed, or hurt, and it’s unfair that he is so handsome because Nie Huaisang can’t ignore him or scream for help, not when this gorgeous young man kneeling before him could be hurt… or hurt others.

“Of course I’m scared!” Nie Huaisang sniffles, his eyes burning with tears he won’t contain much longer. “You… what are you? Why are you here? I don’t understand, it was just… I didn’t think…”

“You prayed to me,” Lan Xichen explains, making Nie Huaisang freeze in terror. “Nobody had prayed to me in so long, and your mind and heart are so strong that for the first time in centuries, I had strength again… but not strong enough to find a person such as the one you were asking for,” he sighs, sounding sincerely sorry. “So I thought that I would offer myself, in exchange for what you promised.”

Tears fall down Nie Huaisang’s cheeks while he laughs almost hysterically. He promised a road, and followers, and then dropped that stupid list about his dream husband. 

Nie Mingjue is going to kill him.

Or else, this god is going to kill him for failing to fulfill his part of the deal.

Either way, he’s so dead. He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s…

“From my point of view, you have already done your part,” Lan Xichen says, his warm voice gentle and careful in answer to Nie Huaisang’s panic. “You made me offerings, and convinced others to do as well. My temple has had its first visitors in many lifetimes. I am very grateful to you, and I will do my best to be everything you wished for in a husband.”

Nie Huaisang laughs harder and sobs just as hard, tears and snot staining his face. This is madness. He’s gone mad. He’s gone completely mad, maybe he’s still lying on the floor of that abandoned mountain temple, ravaged by a fever and slowly dying while hallucinating all this. It would make more sense than what’s happening, than a god talking about marrying him.

But suddenly there’s a hand on his arm, warm even through the fabric, irredeemably solid, a presence such as his mind couldn’t have invented.

Nie Huaisang flinches away from that touch, scrambling back on the bed, putting as much distance as possible between himself and…

“What’s is your… what is my lord’s name?” he asks, hiccuping from crying so hard. “This humble one has been so rude to my lord, this humble one…”

He should get up from this bed, and kowtow. Nie Huaisang is being so rude, it’s a miracle he hasn’t been struck down yet, but just breathing feels like an immense effort, he can barely speak, and if he gets down from the bed he’ll have to get close to this god and he can’t, he just can’t.

Lan Xichen, still kneeling, looks at him with an air of sadness, perhaps even of pain.

“Nie gongzi can continue calling me Lan Xichen,” he says.

“But my lord’s real name…”

“I don’t know my name,” Lan Xichen whispers, his voice so low Nie Huaisang barely hears him, and he looks away as if in shame.

His first prayer in centuries, he’d said earlier, and in the midst of his panic, Nie Huaisang feels some pity. What must it be like to be a god without followers? To be this alone, for this long?

“Is that your only temple?” Nie Huaisang asks, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

Lan Xichen nods, and lets out a forlorn sigh. “It is my last one,” he admits. “And before you found it, I only had one altar left, in the house of an old woman. But you gave me a new one in your home, you made offerings to me… I was on the brink of death, and you gave me new life, Nie Huaisang. For this I am eternally grateful, and I will repay you.”

Nie Huaisang blinks a few times, and doesn’t notice that he’s finally stopped crying. This is still a huge mess, but he feels a little less terrified now, because the situation is less unequal than he previously thought. He didn’t contract a crushing debt just out of foolishness, and Lan Xichen could probably have found other ways to repay him for that offering in the mountain if Nie Huaisang had been repulsive to him.

“Would you really have married me?” Nie Huaisang asks.

“If you will have me,” Lan Xichen replies, sounding more insecure than any god has a right to be.

Nie Huaisang almost starts laughing again. He certainly can’t fight a manic grin, and feels a few new tears on his cheeks. This is absolute madness.

“I need to think about it,” he sniffles. “I… I know I had this list, but I’m not quite ready to marry yet and I… I don’t really know you, right? I think I’d prefer to know you a little before making a big choice like that.”

“Of course,” Lan Xichen says with a smile. “Nie gongzi is wise not to rush into things.”

“I don’t think that’s a quality people usually associate with me,” Nie Huaisang says, chuckling. Then, feeling a little less anxious now, he scuttles closer to the edge of the bed, toward Lan Xichen. “I’ve really made a huge mess of things… but also… I mean, please don’t be too mad, my lord…”

“Lan Xichen. Or just Xichen is fine.”

“Fine, I can try. Lan Xichen, you’ve made a huge mess too, I think. What are we going to do when we get to the Cloud Recesses? They know that Wangji doesn’t have a brother!”

Lan Xichen doesn’t answer right away, carefully thinking things through. Nie Huaisang, in spite of himself, admires him as he gets so serious, amazed that even the slight crease between his eyebrows is elegant. Truly, only a god could be this handsome, and Nie Huaisang’s heart thumpers wildly in his chest at the thought that he could have such a person as his partner for life, if he just says the word.

“So far, when I’m with you my powers are strong,” Lan Xichen says at last. “I can’t explain it, but you have a very strong mind, and your belief feeds me like that of a thousand people. I think as long as you believe that I can pass as a young master of that sect, nothing should be a problem.”

Nie Huaisang’s cheeks heat up. People have called him stubborn often enough before, but when Lan Xichen says he has a strong mind it feels different. Like it’s a compliment, instead of another item added to the list of his defects. 

“Then that might give us a little extra time to deal with…” Nie Huaisang waves his hands to signify this crazy situation they’re in. “We’ll still need to be careful though, my l… Lan Xichen. I have to say, so far you’re doing very well at impersonating a Lan. Have you met some of them before?”

It would make sense, Nie Huaisang figures. Gusu Lan is a much older sect than Qinghe Nie, and perhaps this god’s territory extended south once, or else maybe some Lan cultivators came near Qinghe, back in the days before there was a sect there to protect common people.

That neat little theory crumbles when Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“I was able to look into your mind for details about that requested husband,” he explains. “I found the man you wanted me to look like, checked the type of dress his sect would have favoured, and hoped for the best.”

“You do look like Wangji,” Nie Huaisang mumbles. “I’m sorry for that, it must be uncomfortable to take a face that’s not yours…”

“I don’t remember what I look like,” Lan Xichen replies in a casual manner. “And this is not a bad face.”

A mix of dread and pity worms its way into Nie Huaisang’s heart. Without really thinking, he slides off the bed to sit crossed legged next to Lan Xichen, and once again observes him.

“You really don’t mind?”

“No. And this,” Lan Xichen gestures elegantly at himself, “pleases you, right?”

“Yes. But… not if it doesn’t please you as well. I… I don’t like that it’s not real,” Nie Huaisang admits, looking down at his legs and fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. “Not just your face, but also… you’re behaving according to my list, right? That’s just… it’s not…”

“If any item on your list had been unbearable to me, I would not have entered a deal with you,” Lan Xichen replies. “But it is a very reasonable list, and I found you wanted a husband similar to what I think I once strived to be. It is no hardship for me to be the sort of man you want.”

“Oh. That’s good if you don’t have to force yourself for that,” Nie Huaisang says. “Still, you’re forcing yourself to be around me.”

At this, Lan Xichen falls silent. He remains quiet long enough that Nie Huaisang risks a glance at his face, only to find Lan Xichen staring at him with great attention, as if he were appraising a painting. It is so embarrassing that Nie Huaisang quickly looks away, mortified to be the center of such focus.

“It is no hardship either to be around you,” Lan Xichen says after another long moment passes. “You have a good heart, and a pleasant personality. It has pained me to feel your fear toward me up until now, but I hope this will be less of an issue from now on. I…” he stops for a moment, looking for words. “I have been alone for a very long time, and I told myself I did not mind. But now I see you chatting with your brother, enjoying your hobbies, and trying your best to do what you think is right and… I am reminded that it is pleasant to be around others. That it is pleasant to be alive. And I hope whether or not you decide to have me as a husband, you will at least have me as a friend. That would bring me great joy.”

Nie Huaisang looks up again, to find Lan Xichen smiling shyly at him, as if unsure whether that request might be rejected. It is a rather odd feeling for Nie Huaisang to have his company desired this way. Sure he gets along with some of the Nie disciples fine, and of course he’s friends with Lan Wangji, but this feels different. The Nie disciples don’t have much of a choice, they have to put up with their young master. As for Lan Wangji, well, it’s the same, he can hardly afford to openly reject the young master of another sect, not when they’re both sect heirs, can he?

But Lan Xichen has a choice. He had a choice in the mountain, when Nie Huaisang dropped that stupid list in front of him. And he has a choice now, when he could just say he’s only doing this because he feels obligated to it.

Lan Xichen has a choice, and he’s choosing Nie Huaisang.

“I also hope we can be friends!” Nie Huaisang says, eagerly grabbing Lan Xichen’s hands for a moment, only to suddenly remember he’s still talking to a god and probably shouldn’t be so familiar. “Ah, sorry, my lord! I just got a little excited here…”

“It’s quite fine,” Lan Xichen replies, grabbing Nie Huaisang’s hands before he can fully pull away. “I don’t mind.”

Nie Huaisang looks away again, wondering if blushing so much is perhaps unhealthy. It’s got to be. It feels mortifying for sure, and also a little irritating. Lan Xichen is just too unbearably perfect, and it is going to be hard to deal with that.

“So, hm, you only know about the Lan because I know about the Lan,” Nie Huaisang says, eager to change the subject to something that will not make his face burn like this. “That could be a problem, because I don’t know that much about them. There’s a reason I failed my tests so badly last year. It’ll be hard to pass you as one of them, unless…”

“Unless?”

Nie Huaisang tears his hands away and jumps to his feet so he can check the qiankun pouches he’s carrying his things in. It takes a few tries before he finds the right one, but before long he sits again on the floor next to Lan Xichen, careful to leave a respectful distance between them as he presents the god with a heavy book.

“Gusu Lan’s rules!” Nie Huaisang announces. “I’m supposed to have learned them by heart, but I really haven’t.”

Lan Xichen gingerly takes the book, a slight frown on his handsome face as he opens it and quickly checks the pages. It is a normal reaction. There’s just too many of those damn rules, it’s unreasonable to expect anyone to remember them all… yet Lan Wangji does, so it figures that a brother of his would as well.

“Nie gongzi, what do you want me to do with this?” Lan Xichen asks.

“Read them, learn them if you can. It’ll help pass you off as a true Lan.”

“Ah,” Lan Xichen says, closing the book. “An excellent plan, certainly, but there is an issue.”

“How so?”

Lan Xichen sighs deeply.

“Nie gongzi, I cannot read.”

[arceespinkgun]

Girl Ravage is so real. As someone who grew up watching transformers from a young age and had friends that knew nothing about it whatsoever, you would not believe how common it is for people to assume Ravage and Lazerbeak are girls

I once showed my teacher a funny clip of Rumble from the 1984 cartoon and he was so shocked when they used he/him pronouns for the character because he thought Rumble was female. I quote— “That's a boy? I just thought she was from New Jersey”

I snorted at that comment about Rumble, oh my goodness. That's amazing. Living the dream with Frenzy and Ravage now being women in Earthspark! I don't have a clear reason for why I've always wanted Ravage to be a woman... I think it had something to do with how few female characters were in Beast Wars or the fact that Howlback is a trans woman and has a really similar appearance but isn't a major character like Ravage. Hot take: let her keep the super deep voice from BW!

Even as someone who didn't get into this franchise until becoming a young teen, I've mistaken the genders of characters before. I thought Nightbeat was a woman and was very confused by the major role he had in the Marvel comics—because I'd heard only Arcee is a female transformer in those? I think this was confusion between Nightbeat and Minerva, which is understandable. I also thought First Aid was a woman... that one is bizarre. I think maybe I'd heard about the female media Red Alert from TFA and thought First Aid was that character.

[ranposlittle]

Hi! I can’t see anything that says requests are closed but I’m sorry if I’m mistaken! Could you do a Dazai and (female) reader smut with lots of dirty talk and foreplay? I can’t find anything that really suits my... style of horny... I like when he’s kinda possessive and dominate so yeah... sorry if this is too detailed or just straight up weird 😖 and I have no sense of dignity so I’m not even going to do this anonymously lmao

Genre: NSFW

Tags: First time together, Dirty talking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Foreplay

{ A/N: I gotcha, misty-mochiii~ 😉 haha I'm sorry, I know this is long overdue! I hope you can forgive me. I hope the foreplay and dirty talking is up to your liking~ my skills in the dirty talking department is really questionable so I hope it didn't reflected on my work very much haha! Anyway, feel free to request again! Thank you for your endless support! Enjoyyy! 💗🥰 }

˚ * . ⊹ • ꒰꒱ • ⊹. * ˚

The warmth of Dazai’s hand on yours battles the cold wind of this fateful evening but it's nothing compared to the coldness of your sweating palm. The street you are strutting down on is dim but perfectly alive and busy regardless of the hour. Neon signs flash everywhere, tantalizing promises are written on them for every lovers passing by.

Your throat is dry and your head is pounding from the sound of your own heartbeat. Despite being in this part of the city before, it’s the first time to share a night with the man who’s holding you right now. Expectations failed to form and any attempt to think of one quickly bubbles up and evaporates out of your mind.

Dazai looked back and flashed you a familiar comforting smile and you smiled back, but the concern on your crooked eyebrows is not easy to hide.

Finally, you stopped at the love hotel by the end of the street. Your knees shook slightly as you step inside and the banging of your heart just became louder once a room key was dropped on Dazai’s hand. The whirring of the elevator and the footsteps you took towards your assigned room drowned out of your head. You’re nervous, excited. Feelings stirred and clashed with each second passed.

The click of the door as it opened pulled you back on earth. The room smelled of flowers and the air conditioning hummed softly in the background. Dazai walked in nonchalantly while you tremble. He guided you on to the bed, the soft hues of colorful lights almost making you dizzy. He sat down beside you, caressing your flushed cheek with one hand.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” He asked in a hushed voice while your own is stuck somewhere inside your sandy throat.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Or have I read your signals all wrong?” Dazai spoke as he leaned forward to place a kiss at the tip of your nose. 

You gathered your thoughts together to reply hastily in fear of the possibility that you might never get this opportunity again.

“No, I-” you drew a deep breath. “This is what I want. I want this.”

He hummed. “Good. I thought I had to stop when I’m already so hungry for you.”

You restrained a yip when Dazai pushed your body down the springy mattress. Not a second was wasted as he claimed control over you in an instant, pressing your wrists down while his lips ravaged yours.

Months of teasing and sexual tension between the two of you snapped in a blink of time. The fire that has been burning in the furnace of your core, now blazing brightly as it consumes the entirety of your being. You can barely feel the cold air circulating the room from Dazai’s hot breath fanning on your neck as he liberally taste every spot he could latch on. One of his hand eventually reached down to palm the building arousal on your sex, letting out your first loud moan of the night.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dazai chuckled. His husky voice making its way to the inner corners of your ear. “Was I being too fast? That won’t do. This is our first night. I ought to do it right, don’t you think?”

A pleading look on your eyes was your only response.

“Don’t worry, my darling.” His lips made its way down on your neck once again. “I will kiss every inch of you before I fuck you.”

The sentence made you clenched. Your flesh ached more for him. Your skin turned paper thin, responding eagerly to every feathery touch.

“You wouldn’t mind if I remove your shirt now, would you? It’s in my way.” He threw you a smirk. There, you were left speechless. Only managing to watch as his fingers hooked and pushed your shirt up.

His hands stopped on the underside of your breasts. The cold breeze started to infect your exposed stomach before Dazai's sloppy kisses awoke the butterflies resting within.

Your head planted down on the soft pillow underneath you from the unexpected sensation. His tongue dragged its way up to the valley of your breasts, teasingly pulled your shirt completely off of you and ogled the dark lingerie you have underneath.

"You wore this especially for me, huh?" He asked, gently palming the thin lace covering, thumbs brushing innocently on your perked up nubs. "How thoughtful of you. And because of that, I'll be kind in return by not ripping them off."

True to his words, Dazai just pushed the fabric aside to come in skin to skin contact with your breasts. He kept his lustful gaze locked on yours as he went down and licked one of your nipples.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been wanting to do this?" An almost innocent smile was drawn on his lips as he continued. "I've always wondered what you're hiding under those clothes and I'm truly not disappointed. Such nice pair of tits you got here."

Dazai chuckled lightly, proceeding to knead and suck on your breasts, moving from one to another without a moment of pause. Your moans joined in with his, your head spinning from the sensation he keeps on building up inside of you. Dazai's hand found its way past your skirt and down to your underwear, running his middle finger up and down your slit.

"What's this? You're this wet already? Do you like getting your tits sucked this much?" Dazai asked rhetorically. Of course, you like it. No, you love it. Especially that it's him who's doing it to you. "What an erotic woman. I bet you already want my finger inside you, don't you?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I do. Please, I'm so wet, I might die if you don't do something about it now. Like, right now."

An amused laugh left Dazai. "Well, how can I say no to that?"

He shifted his hand from its current spot to slip underneath your panties. You inhaled sharply as his fingers slithered their way into your core, where everything is just slick and soaked.

"Besides," he added. "Good girls who knows how to ask get what they want."

A finger promptly entered you as you scream in delight. You peeped open your eyes to see Dazai devilishly watching you writhe beneath him as he fiddled with you like a toy.

"You're so tight down here. Seems like you haven't had a cock in you for a while now, hmm?"

You nodded weakly.

"Good thing I planned to use mine on you tonight, then. Such a tight pussy deserves to be stretched out every once in awhile, don't you agree?"

Another weak nod.

"And would you like me to do that for you? Do you want my cock inside you?"

This time, a much more enthusiastic nod.

"Hmm, and do you think you can handle it? Once I put it in, there's no way I'm going to stop fucking you. Think you can do it?"

"Yes," you gasped. "Oh, yes. God, yes. That's exactly what I want."

"That's the spirit," he smiled. "In that case, let's put one more."

Along came another scream from you. Your walls burned and stinged from the stretch but Dazai's fingers aren't faltering from driving in and out of you.

"And another one."

A third finger was carelessly shoved and your eyes shot wide open. You grabbed on to Dazai's shirt, hoping to keep yourself steady from the merciless assault. Through your dazed mind, you can hear nothing but your own trembling moans and the squelching sounds from your own sex. One more push and your climax came unraveling like yarn on Dazai's hand. Your face was nuzzled on his chest as your body spasmed and shook uncontrollably. It ended as soon as it started and you were left weak, holding on to him for dear life. His chest quaked from a dark snicker.

"Look how wet you are," he said, holding up the three fingers that from your frenzy, you didn't even noticed he's pulled out. "My fingers are totally soaked, they almost pruned. Amazing."

"Let me grab a tissue for you," you offered but Dazai was quick to pin you back down.

"Don't you even think that I'm already done with you, my darling. The night is still young," he uttered with a honeyed voice. "And since I've been good, I think it's time you let me have a taste of you."

"Dazai, wait! I'm still sensitive down there!"

The thought of being stimulated after such an orgasm was arousing, but also terrifying. Dazai paid no heed, just smirking before wetting his lips.

Any of your further protests fell on deaf ears as Dazai continued to pull your panties off before spreading your legs apart. You gulped thickly as he once more locked eyes with you, placing his hold on your thighs and gently licked you up. You legs trembled and your head fell backwards, the warmth and softness of Dazai's tongue was already bringing you another piece of paradise.

"Your pussy tastes so sweet," he commented in between the busyness of his mouth.

Fireworks seemed to crackle and pop all at once in the back of your eyelids when Dazai's mouth enclosed on your clit and the fast sucking motion sent your mind floating on the milky way. He moaned against your flesh as you grab a fistful of his hair and your hips bucked up, inadvertently burying his face deeper into you. Dazai's tongue was reaching places nobody has ever done before and it was when that the tip of his tongue probed your entrance, that got you crying out his name like a hopeless prayer towards the heavens. He suckled and slurped on your sore flesh until your legs quivered and your head went numb. You let yourself absolutely lost on the explosion of sensations below you when Dazai all of a sudden stopped to hover above you. The next thing you know, you're tasting yourself on his lips.

"You look so good spread open like this just for me," he said. "Would you prefer coming on my tongue or on my cock this time?"

There was a skip on your racing heartbeat as you hear the offer you've been waiting for all night. Despite your trembling jaws, you mustered what's left of your coarse voice and answered: "Your cock. Please."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Dazai smirked as he reached down to fumble with his pants. "Your moans turned me on so much. I might just come right when I enter you."

A gleeful laugh was in contrast of his voice– dark and husky in desire. Dazai made his point as you feel his rock hard erection rubbing on you clit. You gasped and he groaned; both of your bodies tingling in anticipation.

"Just look at what you did to me." He kept grinding on you and you can practically feel the excited twitches of his cock. "At this rate, I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."

With one calculated push of his hips, the swollen head of his cock slipped inside you. A long drawn out moan vibrated on your vocal chords as Dazai pushed the rest of his length within you, fanning the flames of your desire to its fullest extent. Your muscles stretched and clenched as he fills you up. Breathless whispers of how good you're making him feel drifted around your floating thoughts. Time seemingly slowed down, pleasure taking over and nothing mattered but the throbbing of your arousal against his.

"I'll make sure that after I'm done, you'll crave for my cock and my cock only."

One rough thrust started the rally of his animalistic pace. Your nails digged deep into his bandaged arm like you're holding on at the edge of a cliff. Guttural moans timed with every forceful push of his hips; he's aiming to make a mess out of you.

"After tonight, you won't be able to cum with anyone else than me," said a raspy whisper on your ear as slender fingers pressed on your hips, keeping you in place despite the unkind slapping of his skin on yours.

"You'll think of me even if you're with another man," he continued. "Everytime you touch yourself, every fantasy, every wet dream– you'll always think of me. Because no other man got a cock that feels this good on your little pussy, am I right?"

Stuttering curses, you answered. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes."

It greatly amused him. How helpless yet so lovely you look right now, sobbing and crying just from the way he pounds you. So, he decided to give you more. He promised himself that he'll wreck you in the most pleasant way, and he will accomplish that mission.

His cock plunged deep within your canal, the tip kissing the opening of your cervix. There was a change in his pace, hips bucking tightly, reaching a bundle of nerves that made you see the entire universe in a flash. Everything is getting all too much for you to come up with anything creative to say other than his name, some pleas for mercy and broken curses. But with utter cruelty, Dazai's lips connected with your nipple once again, sucking sharply and letting it loll around his tongue. With an arched back and legs locked around his waist, you screamed out your pleasure. You're now somewhere in the ether, riding a cloud between your legs. You've never been this high before but your body's still asking for more.

"Can I cum in you?" He whispered. He can see how much you're out of it so he continued, leaning closer. "I want to see my cum spilling out of you and right now, I'm ready to dump it all inside of you. You'd like that, don't you?"

An absent-minded hum of approval was all Dazai needed to straighten himself up, sling your legs over his shoulders and use you as he desired. A rough thrust after another, until you're shaking, warm muscles convulsing against his cock, your mouth opened to a big-o, and you were gone. Only throaty groans left your chapped lips, as one bomb sets off another, making waves and pulses all over your sensitized body.

The scene made Dazai beyond ecstatic, pushing his own orgasm to its peak. The composure he worked hard to keep up slipped in an instant. Random pulses of his hips gave it away, and once his semen began spurting out of his cock, he bit down on a soft spot on your calf, masking his low growls.

Dazai bottomed out on you, every stream of his warm cum collected inside your walls. You felt how it streamed down and filled you, a memory that you might save for any lonely nights in the future. You savored the moment of watching Dazai ascended and descended from his high, kissing his bite mark and smiling at you.

His erection was still mighty and solid inside of you despite the obvious exhaustion of the man who wields it. A weight pressed down on your body as he lay on top of you, heaving and panting just as hard.

With the promise of another round after a few moments, you closed your eyes and hoped that you'll wake up with his lips intertwining with yours.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

ἀλήθεια (Chapter 1, Vοσταλγία AU)

ἀλήθεια Masterlist

Pairing: Freydis/Reader, Ivar/Reader (past)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: The usual, plus like a lot of angst, a lot of it. (Sort of, I’m not very good with death/violence) graphic descriptions of death.

A/N: The first part of the AU of Nostalgia for Freydis/Reader! This is a deviation from Chapter 37, so beware for spoilers, and also...prepare for pain. Anyhow, I hope you like this!

She finds you sitting on that same clearing from so long ago, sitting almost in the same place. Only this time, you are twirling your wedding ring on your finger.

It is still clear as day, the memory of that time she found you praying on that small clearing, the mark of tears on your face doing nothing to diminish the fire in your eyes. She remembers, because that is the night she realized there was something more to you, something more to the way she saw you, something more to the way she felt greedy and possessive over your attention, something more to the way she felt about you.

Fitting, she supposes, that it was that night when you told her Ivar was forcing you to marry him. She never doubted something back then she called love -now knows better, and calls obsession, calls need, calls selfishness- was what made him bring you to Kattegat, and so Freydis wasn’t really surprised to hear he intended to make you his wife.

It still hurt. If she is honest, it still does.

She remembers what you looked like that night, the defeated edge and the anger and the desperation. She remembers what your hand felt like in hers, warm and tethering and hers. She remembers the way you lived up to the name they give you when you pulled promises of helping you escape from her lips, as if she were under a spell -and maybe she was, maybe she still is-.

And just like that night she approaches silently even though she knows you are aware of her presence, and just like that night her heart pulls in her chest.

Freydis is used to your pain, she is used to your anger; she has been a witness to both many times before.

But this, this is nothing like pain, nothing like anger. This is devastation, and wrath.

She never saw devastation quite like the one that is written in the way your spine isn’t as straight anymore, in the way your voice cracks and breaks and you still talk, in the way you tell her the Greeks were attacked, and they will be attacked again.

There’s a strange air around you, like all that is alive and warm comes to die willingly at your feet, like through the cracks of your broken heart seeps in all the warmth of the earth as if to try to heal it.

Freydis still sits by your side, shoulder to shoulder.

She asks by whom.

And she can’t help but think she has never actually seen wrath before, not until now, not until she sees the gentleness in your eyes fade away in but a breath, not until your expression -always so honest, so alive- gives in to nothingness, not until she hears none of the usual warmth when you say Ivar.

And she realizes maybe it isn’t willingly that the warmth comes to die at your feet, but that your touch that has given so much is also capable -willing- to take it all, even life; and maybe it isn’t a soft heart needing the earth to tend and mend it, but it is the woman that had wars started and ended in her name -for a chance at her love- that demands the world pay for the mistake of trying to break her.

Many times she has looked at you and thought of the spring you always spoke so fondly of. She thought of warmth and gentle breezes and flower crowns.

She looks at you now and thinks of the rage of a storm clouding the skies and ravaging the warm earth with strikes of hail and lightning, she thinks of thorns and poison ivies and vines wrapped tightly around the throats of the undeserving, and yet in the devastation and the wrath there’s still you.

And she reaches for your hand.

You hold hers back so tightly she still feels the ghost of your touch when you’ve left her behind, your back straightened once again, but your eyes dead -so dead, so unlike yours- when you go to face the King.

____

She waits for the world to shake and tremble, she waits for Kattegat’s streets to be a swirl of madness as they did when you were made queen, she waits for word to spread of how the queen has died at the hands of her husband.

She waits, but nothing happens. The earth isn’t split in two, even though she knows you are.

A part of her, a part of her that grows stronger with each passing moment since you left that clearing, begs her to go to the longhouse. She knows she could never kill him -but she wants to-, she knows she couldn’t even try to fight him -but she needs to-.

She doesn’t want to leave you alone.

Night falls, and she tries sleeping, even if her body feels jittery and something in the back of her mind reminds her why she always found ways to hold on to small bits of control. Because there is men like him, and there’s monsters like him, that are willing and able to take everything from her, in ways that are worse than she ever imagined, in ways she can do nothing against.

She stands in front of you, watching you as you carefully finish braiding together a wreath of flowers. The distant door to the longhouse is forced open, and your hands still.

“My love, where are you?” He calls out, and Freydis watches, unable to move, as you close your eyes where you stand and take a deep breath. A cleansing breath. A last breath.

The wreath of flowers falls from your hand.

You start walking, and it feels as if thick vines trap her, but she still fights, she still tries reaching you, pleading with you not to go.

“I’m here.” You tell him, eerily calm.

“Come here,” Ivar calls, still slightly manic, still lost and erratic as big eyes look over you. Freydis takes steps twin to yours, but feels like she is watching from afar when he extends a hand, “I need you.”

Freydis cries and pleads, screams and rages, but neither of you listen. She wishes you could just listen, because…she knows how this tale goes, she knows how this ends.

He kisses you, and for the first time she wishes that kiss to never end. His hand caresses the side of your face, and for the first time she pleads he holds you close and you let him.

But he turns you around in his grip, your back to his chest, his nose buried in your hair as he whispers something Freydis can’t hear, but that she knows doesn’t matter. Won’t matter.

Because she knows what happens now. She doesn’t know how, but she knows.

And all she can do is watch.

The scream is caught in her throat as she watches pull tight at the metal cord, choking you. You both fall to the ground, but it is Freydis who breaks.

You fight, of course you do, and she claws and tears at herself trying to reach you, trying to save you. But she can’t, and your neck bruises and bleeds, your body loses its strength, and your gasps and whimpers fade to nothing.

You fade to nothing.

There’s a deafening moment of silence that follows the moment she realizes you are no longer in this world, a moment where she realizes there is a world without you and she is stuck living in it, a moment where at the fading of your voice and your laughter it feels like it is the rest of the world that has died instead.

She watches, frozen and trembling, as Ivar sits up. Her stomach churns at the way your head lolls lifelessly at the movement. She wants to scream, she wants to fight, she wants to…Gods, please, anything but this.

Shaking fingers move your hair away from your face, but Freydis cannot focus on how that makes her feel sick, and the king’s body is shaken by cries that sound more like a wounded animal’s than a man’s, but Freydis cannot find it in her to think it fitting for a monster.

No, all she can focus on is the metal around your neck. It looks so much like chains.

You died with chains around you. She remembers your voice, quiet and warm, telling her about the thing you feared the most about death; and she has to look at your dead body and remember she will never hear your voice again, and that she failed at keeping you from dying how you most feared: chained.

She wakes up screaming, and blindly stumbles out of the room, towards the entrance of the home. She has to find you, she has to-…

“She won’t die, child of Freyja,” A voice behind her says, and she turns around with a gasp, finding a woman sitting on one of the flimsy chairs with all the poise of who sits on a throne. Her blind eyes feel all-seeing as the woman tilts her head to the side, so reminiscent of…you. “Her death isn’t his to have.”

The woman smiles, and only then Freydis notices the way her full lips are stained with a shade of red that looks sweet.

She blinks, and the wooden roof of her bedroom greets her. She closes her eyes, clutching the pendant that hangs from her neck, and tells herself everything will be alright.

She was always a good liar, after all.

____

“Tomorrow, there will be-…I will be dead tomorrow,” You explain, and though Freydis feels her heart squeeze in her chest, you speak too calmly to be considering your own death. A deep breath, and, “A thrall, she…she looks like me, she will be dead in our-…in his bed come morning. Ivar will know it’s not me, of course, but…tis not something one survives, leaving Ivar the Boneless, everyone knows that.”

Freydis bites back words -accusations, really- that you are still protecting him, protecting his pride, his image, his reputation. That you are still trying to find a way to spare him the pain.

You breathe something that in a life before this could have been a chuckle, but now only sounds bitter and broken.

“Kattegat will see its queen die, I’m sure that surprises no one. Especially with a…a foreign witch on the throne of a realm she never belonged to.”

“You’re leaving.” The shieldmaiden states, instead of replying to your strange and manic words. Freydis is almost grateful she speaks, because she knows you would have kept on talking.

You meet Valdís’ gaze and in your eyes shines what in a weaker woman would be desperation. But all Freydis sees is determination, and relentlessness, and the stubbornness of something warm and alive trying to survive the winter.

“I have no choice. These are my people, he-…I need to return to those who are still alive. If I wait any longer…if I wait, I may not have life or freedom to make this choice, Valdís,” You raise your chin, but the tears clog your throat and make your voice break. Still, you push on, a rueful smile on your lips, “You know to me there isn’t a difference in losing either.”

The shieldmaiden nods, what Freydis would swear are tears shining in her pale eyes, and embraces you tightly. You barely move to return the embrace, and she has a feeling she understands why.

“I love you, witch. May we meet in the life after this one.”

You look up at Valdís broad frame, and your expression trembles, your breath trembles past your lips in a sob you mask in a pitiful and bittersweet laugh that whispers what you cannot, it won’t happen, not to us, Valhalla and the Underworld will never be one and the same.

“If my mother-…if you ever meet Sieghild, if she returns here,” You close your eyes as you step back, “Tell her I couldn’t survive till the spring. Tell her I love her, and that I hope her Gods and mine keep her.”

Valdís nods her head again, the clear tell of gritted teeth as she looks away from you.

You approach Freydis, and she sees some of your resolve crumble, as if the goodbye hurts you as much as it would hurt her.

“Freydis…”

“Don’t say goodbye,” She advises you, stepping forward. “I am not leaving you alone.”

Your lips part, something quite close to a sob leaving your throat. Still, you shake your head. Stubborn woman.

“N-No, Freydis, I can’t...I can’t ask this of you.”

It is foolish, since you remind her now more than ever of the skittish and distrusting woman that was first brought to Kattegat; but Freydis still reaches forward, grasps your hand in hers.

“Wherever your Gods or mine take you, I shall be at your side,” She vows, as quietly as she can, looking directly into your eyes. Her mind was made long before she even told you those words for the first time. “I swore by it. You aren’t alone.”

You return the hold of your hand on hers, and that is all the answer she needs. With nothing but the clothes at her back and an amulet of Freyja hanging from her neck, Freydis leaves it all behind.

____

She feels like you have been on the run for an eternity, it feels like her legs burn from days of walking, and her body is being pulled to the earth by unseen vines wrapped around her.

By the way you lean against a tree and take careful breaths, she would think you feel the same. But then she catches the faraway look in your eyes as you look back at the direction you came from, and even if you are so far now from Kattegat that this isn’t even considered its border anymore Freydis knows to you it feels like it is still behind you, breathing down your neck.

You meet her eyes, and she doesn’t hesitate to straighten her back and motion for you to continue walking. She doesn’t mind walking for as long as she has to, not for you.

You find a hunter’s camp near the city you say the Greeks had settled at, and you silently agree to spend the night there.

Before the dim fire you two are able to start, Freydis sits and watches the shadows battle the light of the flames, darkness and light, life and death, fighting for the bigger portion of your soul.

The tears make a silent trail down your cheeks as you twirl the golden ring in your hand. The engraved flowers seem to mock you, standing out even more now that the ring is dirtied and muddied from days on the run.

“Did I make a mistake?” You ask her, big eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and hope she is so used to seeing in your gaze, but that now more than ever, maybe because so much has changed and so much remains the same, it breaks her heart all the more.

And she doesn’t have an answer to give you. She wishes she could tell you coming back would be the right choice, that there’s more waiting at your back than whatever you are facing now. She wishes she could tell you that it was the right choice to leave it all, that you belong to Greece and that there is hope to be found after all that has happened.

But she can’t do either of those things, because she doesn’t know.

And how she wishes she did, if only to make the lost look in your eyes disappear, if only to somehow protect you from the desperate and broken hope that makes your breaths shallow.

“Do you think you did?” Is what she asks instead.

You meet her eyes, unwavering. And shake your head.

Your answer breaks you further than any of hers could, and your face crumples in pain.

It isn’t just the fear of them finding you what keeps you quiet, it is grief cutting any sound from leaving your throat even as you bow your back and part your lips in a scream. The rage and the pain threaten to break you at the seams, and desperate hands clutch at your hair, your own arms wrapped around you as you fold in over yourself, as if to keep yourself together.

All Freydis can do is put her own arms around you, bring you close to her and let you shake and cry and break.

Your breaths never find a regular pattern, scattered and shaking, more labored and pained whenever your hands tighten and you feel the press of that damn ring against your skin. You never lose the tension in your frame, not once in the whole night does your pain leave you for long enough to let you rest, you hold yourself tightly and desperately under your own control.

You tell her it hurts, you tell her you have been torn apart, and the way your voice breaks and shakes around the shape of her name makes her wish she had anything other than quiet and warmth to give you.

When the first rays of the new day try piercing the darkness of the forest around you, there’s a defeated kind of resilience to the way you stand up and walk away.

She moves to follow, but you tell her to stay and rest, and that you will return soon.

When you do, there isn’t a ring in your finger anymore.

____ ____ ____

So, what do you think?

Ivar attacking the Greeks is something I considered a lot for the plot of Nostalgia, but it was something so unforgivable that I couldn’t put in the main story, so here goes. I hope you like this Freydis, and idk, that you like the pairing. Of course they won’t get there anytime soon cause Reader truly loved Ivar and is going to have to grieve that relationship, but I like these two together, a lot.

Enough rambling! Please let me know what you think! Also, if you don’t want to be tagged in this AU, lemme know! I know Freydis isn’t for everyone, so feel free to ask me to take you off the list for this one! Love ya!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​ @heavenly1927​ @toe-vind-ek-jou​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @pieces-by-me​ @angelofthorr​ @samsationalwilson​ @peachyboneless​ @1950schick​ @punkrocknpearls​ @ietss​   @itsmysticalmystery​ @revolution-starter​ @chibisgotovalhalla​ @the-a-word-2214​ @fae-sedai​ @crazybunnyladysworld​   @funmadnessandbadassvikings @stupiddarkkside​ @aprilivar​ @msrawog​  

[salmonthestoryteller]

The Widow of the Web

A Roswell New Mexico/Krull AU Fanfic (Part of the fic Destiny) The group traveled out of the swamps the next day.  The new area was full of tall mountains and rich forests, though none as vibrant as the area around where the Emerald Seer had lived.  Towards dusk, Valenti called a halt to the excursion - near one of the tallest mountains in the area.

“The Widow’s place isn’t far.”  She explained.  “But I must go alone from here.”

“I could go with you, at least the entrance of the cave-”  Kyle began.

Valenti shook her head.  “No, this is a journey it’s best I take alone.”

The cyclops seemed to hesitate, but nodded.  “When will you return?”  He asked her.

“...If i’m not back by sunrise, I won’t be back.”

“You shouldn’t bother.  She won’t help you.”  Rosa crossed her arms.  “She helps no one but herself.”

“I understand your anger.  I was angry, too, once.”  Valenti told her.“

She deserves her fate.”  Liz had approached as well.

“Perhaps. But perhaps she deserves redemption, too.  Perhaps we all do.”  With that she started towards the mountain.

Alex watched the group talk, feeling very much as though he was missing something.  “Do you know anything about the kingdom that fell?”  He asked Max.

“Very little.  It was before I commanded the armies.  I know there was a battle, and a fire that rampaged Sky’s land - your weapons or our magic, I couldn’t say which was the cause.  In the separate kingdoms' histories we each blamed each other for their fate.”  Max offered. “I didn’t think you were the sort to read histories, let alone from my kingdom.”  Alex admitted.

“I didn’t always want to be a warrior.  In the end, though, I had little choice.”

“I understand.  I didn’t always want to be a warrior either.”

Max placed a hand on his shoulder, a moment of understanding between them, and left his side to go speak to Isobel.

Alex hesitated a moment, before joining Kyle where he stood watching the direction Valenti had gone.  “I didn’t know you knew each other.” Kyle hesitated a moment before replying.  “She’s my mother.”

Alex froze at the words, shock clear on his face.  “I…”

“They led the armies of Sky together.  Sky had a trade agreement with Slate in those days.  They didn’t join in the war against Antar, but they didn’t have any agreements with them either.  Your father demanded the right to pass through Sky’s lands to attack Antar, and was refused.  That didn’t stop him.  Sky became a battleground - it’s lands ravaged and it’s leaders dead or scattered.”

“I… didn’t know…”

“Why would you?  Sky hasn’t existed for over a decade now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t your father, Alex of Slate.  You don’t have to apologize for his wrongs.”

Alex saw the pieces come together in his mind, he glanced over to where Liz and Rosa were talking with Maria and Jenna.  “The Emerald Seer was once Sky’s seer, wasn’t she?  Valenti and your father the army leaders.  That makes Liz and Rosa Sky’s lost princesses, doesn’t it?”

“You have a sharp mind.  I don’t think anyone else has figured it out yet.”  Kyle told him.

“Who, then, is the Widow of the Web?”  Alex looked at him, frowning.

“...”  Kyle looked back to Liz and Rosa, and Alex closed his eyes as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.

-----

The cave opening was dark, but Michelle didn’t bother to light a torch.  The path was a simple curved path, easy to traverse even in the dark.  And once far enough in, a strange ghostly light illuminated from where the tunnel expanded.

There was no bridge, no ledge.  The cave opened to a fall into darkness below.  But stretched between was a gigantic web - it’s fibers lighting the area with a pale luminescence.  And in the center was what looked like a large sac  - domed and completely opaque.  There was no sign of anyone living.  No breath of wind, no sound.

“I seek the widow!”  She shouted out into the emptiness - hearing her own voice echo from the walls.

“Enter here and find death.”  A voice replied softly, but still managing to echo around the room.

Taking a deep breath, Michelle moved onto the webbing carefully, using it to slowly make her way towards the center where the mysterious domed sac was.  Partway across, she heard a sound like a chime, looking up she spotted a spider - gigantic in size, and made of looked like crystal.  It was crawling towards her along the web.  She hurried along the webbing, but soon realized it would reach her long before she could make it to safety.

She turned towards the center.  “Helena!”  She shouted out.

“Who knows my name?”

“It’s Michelle, Helena!”

Inside the dome a shadowy figure reached out to an hourglass on the table, slowly she turned it - the sands beginning to drop slowly inbetween the two chambers slowly.  Outside, the spider was frozen in place.  “I give you this time…”

Michelle hurried forward along the webbing as fast as she could, pausing briefly as she tried to make her way around a wrapped shape.  Reaching out a curious hand, she pulled away part of the webbing - a skeletal face looked out at her from the cocoon.  Wincing, she moved onwards.  Inside the dome, the sands began to run out.  The spider’s eyes watched her progress, and she when she glanced back she saw it slowly begin to sway - regaining movement.

Climbing upwards, she pulled out a knife - hacking away a few of the strands.  As the last of the sands dropped to the bottom chamber, and the spider leaped forward after her - she grabbed onto the loose webbing and swung across an open portion of the web - landing safely inside the domed sac.  The spider ceased it’s movements, but didn’t retreat.  It waited.

Michelle pushed farther into the strange structure - finding the hunched form of Helena inside, her face covered by a black veil.

“I was young when I last heard that name.”  Helena told her.

“I was young when I last spoke it to you.”

“And my face was as beautiful as my name…”

“And we all loved you, with all our hearts.”

“Yet you were all so busy.”

“There were duties, Helena.”

“Rubbish…  Rosa is his daughter, you know.”

“I guessed it.”

“Did you know I invited Jesse’s army to cross our lands?“

Michelle took in a sharp breath at the words, not having expected them.  “But you said nothing…”

“My anger needed an outlet.  I arrogantly assumed I could control the situation.  This is my punishment.”  Helena glanced at her, then away.  “I know you can never forgive me.”

“I cannot forgive myself, I have already forgiven you.”

“How can you forgive the woman who is to blame for the man we both love dying?”

“...If I could not - could I see us now, as I saw us then?”  Michelle turned to the mirror, concentrating.  The glass shimmered, and in it was a picture of the two of them - laughing in the corridor of a palace.  A crown was on Helena’s head, and Michelle was dressed in leather armor.

“...And allow me to see through your eyes…”  Helena paused, pulling away the veil - her face matched the young queen who seemed so happy in the mirror.  “Your vision is your gift to me.”

“And your vision can be your gift to me.”  Michelle told her.  “The black fortress - where will it be tomorrow?”

Helena’s eyes glazed over for a moment.  “At sunrise it will appear in the iron desert…”  She blinked, returning to the present.  “But this knowledge is useless to you - there’s no way out of here.”  When Michelle glanced at the hourglass, she shakes her head.  “It can be turned only once - it is the lure of the web.”

“A young prince is being held in the fortress.  An heir of ancient power.  Another young prince seeks him.  Hopeful, innocent. The ages we were when… we all loved so deeply.”

“You ask for something I cannot give.”  Helena tells her.

“Then the other heir of ancient power will also grow old and alone in a place of darkness.  This whole world will be a place of darkness.”  Michelle reached out to take her hands.

Helena clung back - her expression torn.  She turned to the hourglass, pulling her hands away and reaching out to pick it up. “These are the sands of my life… use them and the Crystal Spider will have no power over you.  But your own life runs out with the sands...”

“What about your own life?”

“...I give it to the new heir of ancient power…”  Helena held the hour glass up, and brought it down on the table - smashing the top to pieces.  Outside the safety of the dome, the Crystal Spider gave a sound like a scream.

“I cannot stop the sands…”  Michelle mentioned as Helena poured the contents of the hourglass into her palms.

“You cannot stop time.”  Helena replied.  “Go now, quickly.”

Michelle hesitated a moment more, gazing at her, then she hurried out of the dome - finding her way carefully along the webbing.  The spider began to approach and she held up her hand - the sands dripping steadily out of it.  The spider froze in place.  She glanced back at the dome, just making out the figure of Helena inside, holding the broken pieces of the hourglass - then she turned away and made her escape from the cave.

Once she’d disappeared out of the cave entrance, the spider approached it - pincers working angrily - it then returned to the dome - it’s legs slowly cracking the structure and the connecting webs.  Within moments the entire web broke, both the spider and the sac falling into the abyss below….

To Be Continued….

Notes: While I still managed to use some of the lines and plot points of the original movie, a lot of things are altered here to fuse with RNM.  It’s an 80s movie, and in the original couple is Lyssa, the captured princess, and Colwyn, the Prince trying to rescue her.  Gideon is the Old One  - whose place I fill with Valenti.  There is no third kingdom, and the Cyclops has no real connection with Gideon.  Gideon, however, has a different connection with the Widow of the Web.

The original phrase is “A girl of ancient name will become queen, she will choose a king and together they will rule our world, and their son shall rule the galaxy.”

The name of The Widow of the Web in the original movie is Lyssa.  Gideon was her chosen king.  He neglected her, and she murdered their son in her anger.  Her placement in the web is her punishment.

Gideon says the exact line, “I cannot forgive myself, I have already forgiven you” to her.  But her line about the captive of the Beast is: “What of your own life?”  “I give it to the girl who bears my name.”

The reveal of their history is a very dark, but very powerful and wrenching moment in the original movie.  I’m not sure I matched it with this take, but I tried.

[bensoloslover]

her.

Kylo ren x Force Sensitive! Reader

(She/ Her Pronouns)

Preview: Madam (L/N) is called aboard  to the Supremacy to discuss the terms of an alliance with the First Order. She gets much more than she expected when she finds she has a very special connection with a certain dark harried man 

Y/N’s POV 

The Debutont, Mega- class Lead Ship of The Dowarly, Deep Space.

“Madam (L/N), the supremacy has requested you attend a meeting to discuss an alliance with The First Order.” Mela stated as she entered your office quarters, carrying her holopad in one hand and interplanetary communicates device in the other.

The Supremacy. Oh how you loathed the idiots who ran that joint. Between them and their whole little empire knock off, otherwise known as the First Order, you could give a womp rats ass about forming an alliance with them.

“First, I’ve asked you to address me as by my name when we’re not in a formal setting. Second, Why exactly would they believe we’d want to form an alliance with them?” You mused looking up at your darling assistant, Mela, who’d be with you since you became head of the coven for The Dowarly. The Coven consisted of a chosen representative from each planet allied with The Dowarly, and the leader of the organization, otherwise known as you.

What’s The Dowarly some might ask? It’s an mostly neutral interplanetary state, dedicated to protecting their allies from the ravages of the war. With its allies choosing not to join either side of the war.

“Not a clue. But they’ve been begging for years. Also with so many of our allied planets thinking of joining, maybe it’s time you at least consider meeting to hear their offer before they make us an enemy, (Y/N).” Mela replied as she took a seat in your office.

“When you speak like that Mela I am tempted to give you a seat on The Coven, even if you’d never accept it.” You laughed as you sat back and weighed your options. Even with Dowarly’s promise of protection and peacekeeping within its allies wall, and it’s neutral stance in the ever growing war between planets, more and more planets had been making the move to either alliance with The Resistance or The First Order.

“I’d hate it, I’d rather just feed you my ideas as your humble assistant and watch them unfold from behind the scenes.” Mela laughed. You’d always thought her to be the smartest person you knew. She’d been your best friend at the academy, you’d grown up together, and when your grandmother passed down her seat at the table to you when you were 19, just a year before her passing, you’d without second thought chosen her to be your right hand woman and most trusted advisor.

“What have you heard from The Coven members about meeting with The Supremacy? I’m sure many of them have been asked to represent their plants.” You asked, knowing Mela had been keeping up with the topic since eventhing started.

“Most of them have already met with them. The rest are waiting for your call. Most will follow The Dowarly’s lead whether we decided to stay neutral or to join the First Order under Supreme Leader Snoke.

“Then let’s prepare the ship, we have a meeting to attend, and once this is over call The Coven to meet so we can state our decision.” You smiled as you stood, your hand outstretched as your saber flew off its pedestal beside you.

“Shall I Call the dressers to get you something sent up that’s… appropriate for a formal meeting perhaps?” Mela mused as she looked at your uniform up and down, with a look that said ‘I dare you to say no.’ “Make sure they prepare something for you too, if I’m stuck meeting with the Supreme Leader, so are you.” You laughed as you both made your way to the hangers of the ship.

Location: The Surprency.

You knew in this moment if your grandmother could see you now, dressed like a queen of some planet in the Outer Rim, walking up to the outside door of Supreme Leader Snoke’s Throne Room, she would have slapped you for even stepping foot on this ship. Let alone what she’d done if she heard you were staying on it for the next week. Force. This is dumb. This was very very dumb.

Your grandmother’s parents had denounced their monarchy, and in her young adult years she had become the senate representative of their home planet, Centonia. She was dear friends with the late Organa Family of Alderaan, who’s daughter is not only the face of the rebellion/ resistance, but also your late mother’s best friend. Though your mother had passed when you were only 3 years old, your grandmother had told you stories of the two of them growing up.

You’d always wondered if she would remember you if she saw you now. You had only met her three or four times as a child, mostly in passing at import meetings and events held by your grandmother. One of the last times you saw her was at your coronation and at your grandmother’s funeral. It was quick, it only felt like she’d said hello and given her condolences before she’d left the planet on urgent business, you were only Twenty at the time and you were too distracted to hear exactly what she said before she left.. Something about her son and her brother's Jedi temple, if you’re not mistaken.

That was well over five years ago now though. God you’ve gotten old.

You’d always thought she was the coolest person ever though. A princess turned General of a Rebellion Group, fighting for their beliefs, plus she was force sensitive? She was everything any little girl would dream of being at your age. At your mother's funeral she told you that if you ever needed anything that you were always welcome. She even offered to take you in as a child when you’d been discovered to be force sensitive, having a son maybe three years older than you with the same abilities.

Stars, did you feel like a traitor at this point. Your grandmother, mother, and the closest thing to another relative you’d ever had would absolutely knock you upside the head for this. You also couldn’t help but think of ways an alliance with the First Order would be beneficial.

“Are you ready to enter Madam (L/N), I was told to announce your arrival.” Said the First Order Captain standing by the doors, her silver armor and perfect posture making her look intimidatingly powerful. Phasma you’d remember her saying her name was when she met you when you docked your ship.

You looked down at your dress, smoothing down the black velvet fitted to your body. Too much you’d thought when you noticed almost everyone dressed in uniform here. Mela was beside you in a navy gown, she’d agreed the dresser had gone a little too hard with your attire, but it was too late now. You adjusted your lightsaber on your navy leather belt, now or never I guess.

“I’m ready.” You started, but then cleared your throat once again. “Also, please announce Mela Montanno, my advisor as well, her opinion is vital to my decision and her presence at this meeting is significant.” You spoke as you reached for Mela who looked as stunned as you could assume the Captain looked under her helmet.

“Yes Madam.” Phasma said, she turned to the doors and knocked twice, the shuffle of feet could be heard and the doors to the throne room were pulled open by two guards clad in red armor.

“Introducing Madam (Y/N) (L/N) of Centonia, Granddaughter of Rosemary (L/N), and esteemed leader of The Dowarly. And Mela Montanno, her distinguished Personal Advisor.” Phasma’s voice seemed to echo throughout the hall as you and Mela walked side by side through the doors into the red throne room. Phasma branched left and kneeled next to a ginger haired and a dark haired man kneeling next to the foot of snokes throne.

Kylo’s POV.

(L/N). Force sensitive. He’d surely heard that name before. Kylo could almost remember the day he’d heard his mother tell his father that she’d offered to take in the (L/N) girl. Force sensitive. She hoped her presence would be good for him. He’d only been ten years old at the time.

“What a pleasure to be in the presence of (Y/N) the Divine Ruler of The Dowarly. The last of a long line of royals and a force user if I’m not mistaken.” Supreme Leader Snoke spoke, Kylo could still hear their heels click against the floor as they approached the throne. “Ren, Hux, Phasma, rise please and greet our guests.”

As Kylo stood he looked up and saw her approaching. Her (H/C) hair shines under the light, her (S/C) complimented perfectly by the black velvet hugging her curves. Her strides powerful and head held high, her aura dripping with the confidence of a queen.

She was stunning. He knew he wasn’t the only one who thought so when he heard General Hux gulp next to him.

“It’s an honor to be here Supreme Leader Snoke, though my grandmother Madam (L/N) II was the Divine Ruler of The Dowarly. I’m simply the Leader of The Dowarly. Madam (L/N) would be fine.” She spoke, her voice sounded angelic yet strong. Her words were confident and precise.

Everything about her screamed power. As he took her in he saw the lightsaber attached to her hip. He knew then she was the little girl his mother had offered to take in. She had to have been. From what General Hux had told him about her family, they’d all died off long ago, her being the soul survivor of her bloodline.

Kylo almost couldn’t take his eyes off her, how he wished he had his mask at this point. At least it wouldn’t make it feel as wrong to be looking at her. He tried to clear his mind of her, Supreme Leader Snoke would surely notice his wandering thoughts.

“Well Madam (L/N), it is an honor to have you here. This is my apprentice Kylo Ren, and General Hux of the First Order. I know you’ve already become acquainted with Captain Phasma. They are here to help discuss the benefits of our alliance, for both sides of the party.” Snoke spoke proudly as he gestured to Kylo and the others with him.

When their eyes met Kylo could feel his heart skip a beat. Her (E/C) eyes pierced holes into his dark ones. That’s when he felt it. The force. The draw. The energy in the room shifted. As if the stars and planet had aligned themselves for this.

He felt her.

(Y/N)‘s POV

Suddenly everything in the room seemed to stop. All noises faded into the background as I locked eyes with him.

He felt so familiar.

Like, someone she’d known before, but she’d never seen him before. She’d surely remember someone so beautiful. Oh god this is supposed to be my first meeting with Supreme Leader Snoke and I’m staring at his apprentice. Shit.

(Y/N) turned away to look back at Snoke, but she couldn’t help but feel the waves of disappointment almost roll off of Kylo. This was already weird and it was only going down hill now.

“It’s an honor to meet you all. I look forward to our meeting about a future alliance. I hope we can come to a mutual agreement.” (Y/N) said, braving another glance towards the dark haired mysterious man, who seemed to be looking anywhere but her, thankfully.

Supreme Leader Snoke smirked, turning his head towards his followers. “Ren.” He said with a tone sharp enough to cut the tension in the room like butter. “Would you please show Madam (L/N) around the ship, and then escort their shared quarters. It should be right near yours. And General Hux, could you escort Lady Mela back to their ship to help receive their bags, and then escort her to their quarters as well. Then you both can be their personal escorts for the remainder of the trip. We wouldn’t want anything or anyone getting lost.”

“Yes sir, Supreme Leader. Captain Phasma could you please arrange a group of stormtroopers to help with the luggage, right this way Lady Mela.” Hux spouted off, holding out a hand to Mela with a warm smile, looking almost relieved to be able to leave the room. Mela on the other hand gave you a painful smile and squeezed your hand goodbye.

“Thank you, it was an honor, Supreme Leader.” Mela bowed and turned to the ginger haired man still holding his hand out to her. “Thank you General Hux.” Mela smiled. Taking his hand and letting him guide her. “Armitage is fine ma’am.” He replied as he led the both of them out the door, you could hear Mela giggle on her way down the hall. Dammit.

“Yes Supreme Leader, right the way Madam (L/N).” Kylo gestured as he walked towards the door. Unlike Mela you didn’t receive a hand, arm, or even a warm smile. Great. At least he’s as uncomfortable as I am, you thought to yourself as you two made your way towards the elevator at the end of the hall.

Force save me now.

“Ladies first.” Kylo spoke softly as the elevator doors opened in front of them, stepping aside so you could enter. Nervous? Why do I feel so nervous, you thought. I’ve been around plenty of powerful men before. Hell I just spoke to The Supreme Leader of The First order. I wonder if he can feel how nervous I am. I can feel how uncomfortable he is. Or maybe he's nervous too. Maybe I should say something. 

“This is a huge ship, definitely bigger than our debutont.” Oh god that was dumb.Now we sound like an dumbass. God I’m Dumb. 

“Yes. It is large. It’s one of our Mega- class Star Dreadnoughts. It houses our most esteemed Generals and Supreme Leader Snoke.” Kylo spoke, the words coming out flatly. You've already annoyed your tour guide and it's been two minutes, good going. Try and make it less awkward please (Y/N/N).

“So you must spend a lot of time here then?” Worse but whatever, guess you're trying to make the First Order hate Dowarly. 

“I reside on the finalizer most of my time, I'm only here for as long as you are Madam (Y/N).” Kylo spoke out, once again very monotonically. 

“Since we’ll be spending some time together this week, (Y/N) is perfectly fine outside of formal setting Mr. Ren? …” Moving to a first name basis so fast? Brave. Maybe it'll break the ice some. I thought while looking up to the man next to me. God he’s tall.. 

“Kylo is fine, (Y/N).” He turned his face to mine and once our eyes locked again it was like I was thrown back in time. 

“Leia …” Was all I could utter before I felt myself fall before too large arms grabbed my shoulders.

Fin.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to send me feedback if you liked it!

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Well. In light of the recent vanessa fic, I am going to request a few things. How about Helena going to MC's high school reunion?

WARNINGS: Intolerable sexist arseholes Referenced rape culture Blood and minor violence Written by: @evoedbd ******************************************

“Helena… my feet hurt.” Kya’s soft, plaintive voice rung like gunshots in Helena’s ears. To hear that Kya was in pain caused a war of sensations within the Sorceress, turning her chest into a battlefield as she aimed to pick out her own thoughts amidst the din. The music was too loud. All pulsing beats and pop hits that all bled into one another in an unpleasant screech. With all the beauty Kya’s people could capture, the fact they abused that power to capture such meaningless garble was bad enough, but the songs that Helena’s ears had picked out went beyond this. The images of men taking what they pleased, or endlessly fucking hoes and capping foes… it set her teeth on edge. Why would anybody wish to put a cap on someone they disliked so much? It was absolutely beyond her. After all, she had seen the selfishness of humanity. She had seen people who would do precisely what the songs fantasized about. She had been one of those prizes. The pet. The mess left behind once a tyrant had finished with her for the night. She had been the violated girl dragging herself across the floors because she couldn’t walk, trailing blood. Why did some of Kya’s people find this concept worth celebrating? How many even knew what they danced to? “Helena?” This time, Kya’s voice was pleading. A gentle touch to Helena’s ravaged senses. This was accompanied by the lightest touch to her forearm, fingertips begging for more yet restraining themselves until Helena gave consent. The Sorceress had to close her eyes, to stop watching and picture a much calmer place. An open field, filled with flowers that had no name, not in this world. Flowers woven through black hair, accompanying laughter that became wings for Helena’s soul. She didn’t particularly want to open her eyes to the gyrating crowds. Around her, she could feel a thousand candles, each flickering in time with the sea of sorry, middle-aged bodies awkwardly trying to reclaim their youth. All dressed in finery above their means as they tried to convince everyone of their success and happiness, even as they reeked of misery. An ocean of people, all smiling politely whilst firing knives from their tongue, shooting daggers from their eyes. Alcohol flowing a little too freely, too dangerously. Control, so willingly abandoned. It was as if none of them knew its value. As if none of these people had ever seen or experienced control torn away completely, until even the breath a body took was at another’s whim. Then there were the lights. A spinning ball reflected everything, casting a thousand fragments of light across the floor, growing larger as they grew further from the centre. Spinning chaos across the wooden floors, illuminating the deep blue lighting, catching in the mist across the dancing masses. An unnatural mist summoned by machines… and Kya said her people possessed no magic. “Helena… are you with me?” The longing to answer hit her harder than a boulder from a catapult against a crumbling castle wall. Gods, how she wanted to open her eyes and find only one person before her. Yet, she was surrounded; drowning in the sea of bodies as the unnatural mist lapped at her ankles. As elbows collided with her, or fingers nipped at the bottom of her hair like vultures testing the fight left in their meat. Her heart pounded, beating against the cage of her chest much like how her magic pulsed with her fears. Limbs tingled; fingers began to move on instinct. Then, warmth. So much warmth. Enough that she gasped. Instantly, her lungs filled with air; her nose with that delicious mix she had never quite learned. Something soft, something smoky and then a hint of spice. Always, it was sweet. So very, very intoxicatingly sweet… but not sugary. The underlying bitterness of coffee tempered sweetness so deliciously that Helena found herself devoured by her craving for that scent. A second inhale gave her more, slowly begun to redirect her roaming senses to a singular focus. It was enough for her to open her eyes. “Welcome back.” A kind voice fell from naked lips. The smile upon them was small, nothing intended for the world to see. A secret amidst the crowd, the last life jacket on the Titanic. Just seeing it was enough for Helena to be saved. Shining grey eyes accompanied that encouraging little smile. Adoration glistened in beautiful grey depths, outshining the tinges of concern playing flecks in bluestone. In the swirling lights and dulled room, stone was more akin to gems than cobble, captivating Helena’s attention for far longer than society deemed polite. She could care less. Museums held marble statues of deities past, depictions of Aphrodite to stare at for hours. Marble was incomparable to the greys, Aphrodite a hag compared to the graceful woman donning such a flowing black dress. Elegance in its purest simplicity. “As if I could ever be parted from you.” Helena gave her best attempt at a purr. It was effective, given the creep of pink over Kya’s pale cheeks. Pale, not bloodless, Helena reminded herself. Bloodless was danger. It was the colour Kya had gone after the Queen’s spell struck her. It was the colour Kya had been when the Queen held a blade to her throat, when the Queen tormented Helena into confessing every pain, tried to make Sorceress scream and kneel. Tried to break her. Bloodless was the Witch Queen leering over a terrified girl, or ordering her most loyal man to ensure said girl was prepared… Helena flinched. Faster than Helena could blink, Kya’s hands left her, gathering in front of said woman’s chest. Kya held her hands there patiently, as if they were to be bound. Somehow, the speed and implications of such a gesture did not spark further fear within Helena, did not reignite the painful memories lapping at the edge of her consciousness. How such gestures could be made soft and welcoming, appealing even, still befuddled her. Flummoxed, her breath caught, even as Kya spoke. “Helena, I’m going to grab your tie, ok? I won’t pull, and my hands won’t move until I know you are ok. If you need to grab me, that’s ok. I know you won’t hurt me. We can just sway.” “The music is too upbeat for such a slow dance.” Came Helena’s rebuttal, even as her body moved to follow Kya’s suggestion. Cautiously, she gathered Kya into her chest, holding the otherworldly beauty there as if the world might snatch her away. Beneath Helena’s pale skin magic simmered. It heated her veins, writhing and bubbling like serpents of heated tar. She could feel the sparks escaping her control, trapped between her skin and her silken black button up. Kya had expressed her appreciation for Helena’s suit, several times, yet Helena had not seen the appeal until just now. The darkness of her shirt slimmed her down a little, whilst also concealing the fact she was sweating bullets. Her turquoise suit jacket was cut to perfection, emphasising both the strength of her shoulders and her feminine curves, without drawing attention to an overly generous bust. The matching pants fit her like a second skin, showing off impossibly long legs right to heels which meant business. Not only did they elevate her above the heads of many men, they also screamed womanly power. That she could, and would, step on any fool who crossed her path. Then, there was her crisp white tie… the very tie currently embraced between Kya’s gentle fingers. “Who cares about the music? We make our own rules, babe, always have. This was meant to be something fun, Helena. I didn’t think it’d be like this. I just thought it’d be romantic. Like going to prom with my soulmate, instead of some boy who expected me to finish the night on the backseat of his car.” “That boy dare-“ “He didn’t try to physically force me. He was confused as to why I wouldn’t, tried to convince me verbally, but he never laid a hand on me. He wasn’t a bad person, just an ignorant one. He was influenced by the wrong people. He actually wrote me an apology. It doesn’t makes my memory of prom the best.” “Yeah, had a bitch, but she ain’t bad as you. So hit me up when you passing through. I’ll give you something big enough to tear your ass in two” “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Kya exploded, her wrath erupting in an enraged shout. Her voice carried, drawing countless gazes to the human embodiment of furious flames about to claim their penance. Kya’s entire body trembled, almost as if her growls were causing her to vibrate, and her cheeks took on a hue often associated with a devil. The fire in her eyes seemed poised to devour the world in its search for vengeance, yet Kya tempered it to three precise culprits. Three large men, all crowding around an uncomfortable-looking DJ who cringed as the song continued to play across a stagnant dance floor. “What’s wrong? Don’t like the music, dyke?” The first man sneered, his voice grating from between crooked teeth. His mates laughed, playfully jabbing him in his well-padded arms, hooting their drunken approval. His large belly jiggled as he laughed. Helena’s eye was drawn to his shirt, specifically the valiant efforts of a single thread stretched between a disconnected button and said shirt. “You’ve been playing rape culture bullshit for over half an hour. Do you even know what half of this shit means? Slip her a Molly? That is roofies! Drugging a woman’s drink to sleep with her, cause that’s totally sexy. That Nirvana song? It is literally about a rape victim. Did you idiots even stop to think that some people here might have gone through that?” Kya’s accusations were sharp, to the point, a jab of a blade straight to the ribcage. “We thought it was setting the mood. Isn’t your bitch DTF? She looks the type.” The second man taunted, giving a poor attempt at a suggestive wiggle of his brows. This man appeared more in shape, lithe, with the veins standing stark beneath his muscles. However, the stench of alcohol was only smothered by the copious amounts of noisme body spray he stained his wrinkled shirt with. “This isn’t the 1800s, dude. Women have the right to get married and be together outside of a Pornhub video.” Kya’s tone dropped along with her brows, her expression challenging, daring the men to come up with a retort worthy of her. “It isn’t rape if the bitch wants it.” The third man jeered. Unlike his counterparts, he appeared clean and put together, something Helena might have even called attractive before he opened his mouth. A good-looking man, ruined by his horrific mouth or corrupt by the company he kept. “What happened to you three? How can you be so cruel as to deliberately target someone just for existing? I know you’ve been watching us and noticed Helena’s reactions.” Kya’s words struck Helena to the core. Suddenly everything made too much sense. How the songs had seemed to only get worse and worse, their violations and sexist attitude more crudely represented. More stark. How the music had steadily grown louder and louder, until their sounds had burned into Helena’s consciousness. Until they became shadows which she could not be free of. Shadows where leering eyes hid, a pride of lions or a pack of wolves slowly circling their prey. What she had dismissed as a trickle of sweat down her back now stood out, an instinctual twinge, a warning. One she had not taken heed of. It left her wondering, was anywhere truly safe for her aside from Kya’s arms? Even in this strange new world, where nobody knew her crimes, she found herself persecuted. Had coming here truly been the new start she believed it to be? Or had she just fled her own insecurity into a pit of newer, wiser vipers whilst she played catch up for over thirty years of missing knowledge? “This is America, we have the right to listen to what we want.” “You have a constitutional right not to be a colossal dick.” Kya fired back without pause. This earned several snickers from around the room at the man’s expense. She wasn’t done, not even close. Kya continued, launching into a scolding with enough disgust in her tone to cow the watching crowds. “After everything she has done for this damn country, hell, the world, she deserves ONE night without some douchebags throwing shit at her. All we wanted was to come and have a lovely night out, not cop sexual harassment from a failed security guard, an alcoholic and a walking advertisement for how not to be a man all trying to relive their high school glory days.” “What? She got bored of servicing all the real men and went for her own bitch to boss around instead?” The second man taunted, snickering loudly at Kya’s repulsed expression. The expression was barely a flicker on the way to a smile. No, a smile implied genuine joy and happiness. Kya’s expression was something far darker. Ink dropped into water, sinking to the bottom of the glass. Purity tainted by malicious intent. Helena internally flinched. That expression was unlike anything she had seen from Kya before, save when Kya dealt with the Queen. It was the closest Kya could ever come to such wickedness; the closest Helena could bare to see her fall. “Oh I get it now. This is about your inferiority complex that no woman as gorgeous as Helena would want to be within ten feet of you unless it was to deliver a restraining order.” Kya’s voice was so calm, so crisp and clear, yet somehow a sneer. Something that even the Witch Queen could never truly pull off. It all happened so fast. Faster than Helena could even react. One moment, Kya was snarling in the face of some asshole, the next he had reached out in a sloppy attempt to smack her. Kya was faster. In a blink, she had grabbed the man’s wrist, grip unyielding, stepped into his space and twisted her body. Just like Helena had taught her. The man went plummeting to the ground in a flurry of ill-fitting formalwear and disgusting body spray. The collision was bone-jarring, filling the room with an audible thud. Before anybody could do anything more than gasp, the third man launched at Kya’s exposed back. Helena’s heart leapt into her throat, her magic burning beneath her skin in preparation to unleash. It was a pointless endeavour. Kya moved naturally, as fluidly as a trickling stream with the passion of a dancer and the heart of a knight. Her elbow came up, driven into the man’s nose without a moment of hesitation. He too fell, left with only his hands to try and still the raging current of blood pouring between his trembling fingers. His hands desperately palmed the broken mass of his nose, which made his cries sound wet and gargling. A second strike, a vicious kick to his groin, ensured he would not be getting up again. Helena arched a brow. That was not something she had taught Kya. “How?” The most rotund of the three questioned, wisely keeping his hands well away from Kya as she stormed up to him. Helena knew his fear, it was once an intimate companion to her afterall. He looked at Kya as if she were the Witch Queen, something which sat uneasily in Helena’s gut. Even here, Kya was not the Queen. She had not taken evident joy in her power over these men, nor in their fear. Kya wore an entirely too calm expression, as if the violence had been a bore to her. As if the blood running down her arm was something to be nonchalant about. She was silent as she reached out, hooking a single finger into the string stretched between button and shirt. Finally, it gave out, snapping under the added pressure. Then, Kya spoke, her voice kept low as if to protect the man from further humiliation. “My wife is a war hero. I’m not the scary one.” She informed, using the tails of his shirt to wipe the blood from her arm. At Kya’s words, Helena noticed the room focus on her for a moment, awe and respect flooding their eyes in a manner that was entirely too familiar. Too uncomfortable. It was the awe and fear of Reiner’s army. How long would it be until they too saw the monster she could be? Could that be how they now viewed Kya? “She’s earned her peace, and I’ll fuck up anybody who tries to attack that. She shouldn’t have to kill anybody else to protect this country, let alone deal with shitfucks like your friends shaming her for having an ounce of happiness.” Kya continued, eyes blazing dangerously. That. That there was something the Queen never had. The heat in her eyes, the fire and compassion. Helena’s heart rose in her throat. She’d seen this scene before. The Queen, leering over her prey, leaning down to mock their failure before she crushed them. Now Helena could see it. Kya’s connection to the Queen. The heat had faded from her cheeks, yet that heat seemed to have migrated to her eyes. Where the queen froze, Kya blazed, charring the man’s willpower to cinders with but one annoyed glance. Her focused glare had him trembling, fearing what she might do next. Helena felt that fear. Had the queen claimed her lover? Was she to truly lose her happiness now? Was fate so cruel? “Your friends will need medical care. That elbow could have broken more than his nose, and your other buddy smacked his head pretty hard.” Kya added, concern filtering into her expression for a microsecond before she turned. With the grace and confidence of a Queen, she strode over to the first man, her dress fluttering around her knees like wisps of shadows and silk. She leaned down towards the man, crouching so that she could speak directly to him. “If I ever hear you dared touch another soul without their consent, then you will no longer have hands.” Kya warned, her voice a tide of outrage tempered by her own compassion. Her hand upon him reminded him to stay down, but also touched with concern. Feeling how his heart rose to meet her palm. Despite his unfocused gaze, he afforded her his full attention, staring at her as if he was looking upon an Angel. No, not an Angel. A Valkyrie of Nordic legend. A guide to the lost heroes, the one to guide their souls to peace. Helena understood, for she gazed in utter devotion. This Kya was a new creature, one embodying her soulmate, channelling Helena’s protective energy in a uniquely Kya way. Helena couldn’t help but smile, to grace her protector with an approving twitch of her lips and a nod. Kya was not the Queen, nor did she continue her violence when it was not in defence. She had picked up arms in this moment so Helena would not. So Helena did not have to. Just as Kya had promised, she protected Helena’s peace. Kya rose after a few more moments, stony eyes softened to gems as she gazed upon Helena. The Valkyrie extended her hand, fingers imploring Helena’s to weave between them with a silent little wiggle. Helena, a lost soul if ever there was one, was helpless to do anything but reach, to accept the hand offered to her. With the softest of smiles, she entrusted herself entirely to her soulmate, her Valkyrie, trusting that if Kya was not her peace then at least she would lead Helena there.

[noneatnonedotcom]

Fairy Tale Romance

a sequel to my previous story a lesson in seduction. i hope you guys like it and feel free to give my some feedback

Ruby Rose was a girl who didn’t let the real world get to her. She knew that it wasn’t a fairy tale but at the same time she was determined to make it one.

Even if she didn’t know how to do that.

And she was failing a lot more than she was used to.

And

She shook her head and sat down placing her face in her hands as she groaned. It was all stupid Silverman’s fault. The jerk had gotten in her head earlier and she couldn’t get the idea out of her head.

He’d said that jaune didn’t really love her, that she was just something he kept around out of pity and…

She growled frustrated with the memory she’d had no way to argue because… because…

Because she didn’t know why jaune was with her. Sure they had a history together and they trusted each other but recent events had shown her that she really didn’t know jaune as well as she thought she did.

The dude had been married! And she hadn’t even had her first kiss before him!

She just felt lost, she wasn’t on the same level as him and she knew it and why would he want to be with her then? She saw how those moms looked at him. Why wouldn’t he want a mature girl who knew what she was doing?

Why would he want dorky ruby rose?

“Well, for one thing, your eyes are spectacular” came the voice of jaune behind her, making her jump as she spun rapidly too surprised to be embarrassed “they’re so clear, so bright. If eyes are the windows to the soul than your soul has to be beautiful. But that’s obvious from just spending time with you. You’re a bright spot in the world. A moment of respite when things get too hard I know you’ll be there. Maybe you won’t have the answer but you’ll always at least be willing to try” he grinned as he sat down next to her and she couldn’t fight back the blush that kept coming “but you’re not after romance are you? No my little rose wants something,” he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her against him “more” it was playful but the flash of teeth and the deep rumble of his voice made her think of a predator and she kinda enjoyed the shiver that went up her back.

He leaned in and with that deep rumble he whispered in her ears “does little red wanna learn to hunt too?” he teased as he nipped at her ears. The stimulation doing things to her that she wasn’t sure she hated. But it was still a lot

“I wanna be like you” she whispered as his mouth moved closer to the pulse point in her neck, his hot breath tickling the hairs on her neck

He hummed, it was a pleased sound but she could tell it was a question too so she kept talking. Trying to force out the words as fast as possible. 

“You’re sexy and strong and powerful and mature and I just wanna be able to do the same thing to you that you do to me” she barely breathed as she felt his lips pull back in a smile nearly losing herself with the scrape of his teeth. She wanted him to bite her, she wasn’t sure why but she was sure if he bit her that would be enough

He chuckled a deep dark sound and whispered “you really have no idea what you do to me, do you? When I see you smiling with your team, when I watch you rip apart a pack of Grimm, when you flounce around in that cute set of pajamas you’ve got.” he nipped at her pulse and she craned her neck for him “every time I see you, I struggle for my very soul. You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen. Do you know that? You have to right?” he pulled back a looked directly into her eyes “ruby rose, it is only through supreme self-control that I don’t ravage you the second I see you”

She felt her breath catch in her throat 

“I want you so badly it hurts me to not have you. I want you like a man in the desert wants water. No, it’s more than want. I need you ruby rose.”

“What is it that you want in particular” she managed with a grin. Sure he had the advantage but the knowledge that she drove him to this. That she made him just as powerless as he made her.

Well maybe she wasn’t a wolf-like him, but she was certainly a mischievous pup if nothing else and jaune wasn’t the only one who could play this game.

“Is it these?” she asked cupping her breasts “they’re not as big as yang’s but I’ve seen you looking once or twice” she reveled in his attention “or maybe it’s something a little lower, are you an ass man jaune? You like the rubooty?” she giggled at the name even as jaune chuckled

“I’d be lying if I said i wasn’t a fan” he said in that same deep tone that seemed to vibrate through her. And she felt emboldened at the feeling of his hands trailing across her until they cupped her butt “I also like the name”

She smirked “I’m a woman of many talents, naming just happens to be one of them” a devious smile replaced the smirk as she trailed her fingers across jaune’s chest “one of those talents is knowing what my boyfriend likes. It’s my legs isn’t it, you love my legs, and my thighs” she smiled genuinely for a moment as she came to the realization “you really love everything about me”

“I do,” he said pulling her close “more than anything”

“So loyal” she whispered “maybe you should get a reward, something a little more than just looking” she finished with a nervous smile

“I’m  not sure I could look away anyway, you’re a feast for the eyes”

“Oh, and I bet you’d like to just eat m all up” she shifted a bit so she straddled his lap “you are a growing boy jaune,” she said as she leaned up to kiss his lips “come get your meal”

With a growl jaune put her on her back ripping his clothes off him in his haste before bringing them back to her body as he did his best to undress her in his excitement “what big hands you have” she said with a smile

“The better to hold you with” he teased back undoing her skirt and pulling it off

She trailed her hands over his now naked chest with a grin “what big muscles you have”

“The better to carry you to bed with” he growled back getting frustrated with her corset, she giggled as she undid it prompting jaune to turn his attention to his lower body as she made herself ready stripping what was left of her clothes off as fast as she could

The sound of his pants hitting the floor made her look up and she felt her eyes go wide “wow, that’s… really big” she finished lamely

Jaune smiled, before he pounced on her, ruby screamed signaling another successful hunt for the two of them.

Life wasn’t always like a fairy tale. but for the time being, ruby was enjoying hers.

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 42

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhJVMW3tI6g – Inspiration for the Catholic ceremony I chose for this story. Probably a far more modern version of the ceremony but the older ones were mostly a less personal wedding than I wanted. Just loved the relationship between the Priest and the couple.

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The ceremony part is in italics for the most part and the Latin bits are in bold and italics for those who might be bothered by wedding ceremonies or how heavily religious Catholic Weddings can be. Trust me it took hours to shift it down to something more personal and not monotonous to hinge more to boring for this chapter.

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Two soft knocks and James just about shot to his feet to answer the warning notice that the guests were seated and the ceremony could begin. Out into the hall he went to a deep exhale with hat lifted to sit atop his head for the stroll to the doors of the cathedral. Just muffled noise of the guests’ chatter had him pause for a break that let Victor claim a tight hug from his brother. With ease James chuckled and returned the hug that once through had helped to give him the nerve to slip through the doors that were again closed behind him for the much watched stroll to the alter. Sparsely the chatter paused and rose up again at the cue that the Bride would arrive soon. Unable to help it James chuckled to the wave of whistles from the uniformed soldiers who alongside their dates had filled the seats behind the high ranked guests up front on the right side of the diagonal Y shaped rows.

Off his head his hat was eased in his glance at the large four lensed cameras on either side along the back wall on a platform high enough so when the guests stood there would still be clear view of you both over their heads. Between them a pair of photographers took the first of the pictures on the first of the two cameras they had around their necks. A few comments from the Brocks kept his mind occupied from the voices he could hear on the other side of the door of the Groomsmen complimenting the Bridal party on their outfits.

Those doors however did open and the organ began to play a soft tune for the entrance march that turned everyone’s heads to find the Priest on his lead role in the march. Behind him with flower petals for the girls and candles inside glass lanterns for the boys to keep from burning the place down as each pair spread petals around all the way up to and around James who chuckled at their skipping circle of him to loop back to their second row in the empty diagonal seating.

Victor and Dawn as Witnesses came next with Norma on his free arm after having forgotten her cue to slip back in before the ceremony began, she sat on the end closest to the non procession Brocks with a smile at the others who sat in the front row. The beaded white gown however stirred pangs of scandalous comments inside the heads of those watching until they saw the continued theme when Dot and David arrived next. Dot’s Cousin and Erik came next, him with the small tray pinned under his arms and rings in his pocket to keep from dropping them. Gina, Ambrose and their husbands came to take their own seats next for the chest clenching moment of silence in the shift of the music sheets for the Bridal March.

Already on the verge of crying James straightened up to the comforting pat on the back from the Priest who was alone at his side with a smile of his own from the sight of the teary smile on your Groom’s face. A million thoughts echoed in his head all at once that fell to silence at your golden glow enveloped self. For all the imagined moments in wonder for what you had chosen to wear today he couldn’t have gotten close to this perfect gown. Each ruffle on the skirt giving the impression of almost being feathers that added to your float down the aisle, just barely the hints of sheer fabric that grew to the sleeves ending underneath Eddie’s elbow and the blue rose and calla lily bouquet in your hold. Just barely he caught a glimpse of the now naked finger your wedding band would sit on and to the blink that freed a tear down his cheek his eyes rose up from the glint of gold tucked in your cleavage above the clear gem coated broach on your corset and then higher. Bared shoulders framed your neck and the lower glimpse of your chin through the netting of your top hat.

Every single step had him on the cusp of shouting those vows to jump ahead of it all. All those years and nights of separation back in the war when your troops had to divide stung at him and drove him to the brink of madness to break his ranks and orders to simply go hunting for you. Day by day burning and screams kept him on the cusp of trembling from increased rage to be away from you for so long. And once you had reunited he swore to never be apart from you again. Those painful uneventful nights his mind went loose filled with possible forevers and now here it was. Just five feet away he watched Eddie claim your bouquet to Edie’s smile filled reach to lift the netting to tuck on the rim of your hat.

Father Thomas in the end of the tune approached with hand extended yours rested upon in the walk to James’ side on the way to the alter where the kneeling stools were waiting. Smoothly in a reach your free hand rose for a stunning stroke of his cheek to wipe away the tear trail he used to his advantage. Around your wrist his hand moved to cradle the hand in a stolen press of his lips to the ball of your palm, against his chest a moment he held your hand there with his right, to use his left to help lift the hem of your gown on the three steps. Once at the kneeling stools he traded his right for his left hand to keep hold of yours in following the hushed reminder of the Priest to kneel.

To the now seated crowd he looked and drew in a breath motioning for Ambrose to open the ceremony speeches up at the podium to read from the marked passage on the large open bible there. Her Latin fluid after weeks of practice with the Father to get the words right that she managed with apparent ease. A brief song from an assigned guest among the Brocks to sing the brief version of ‘Let Us Rejoice’ that in her return to her seat opened for Gina’s turn up at the podium to read the second passage of scripture marked for her. Proudly for her also successful and surprisingly tear and sniffle free. No matter how awkward it might have seemed for the both of you to be kneeling through the lengthy service the thumb tenderly stroking the back of your hand rested on the hand rest on the stool completely ignorant of any discomfort for the contact with his true love.

Behind your back however beside Professor Elliot settled a bit more into his seat having stolen a glance back at the wall to his left now with Heimdall, Prince Loki, and your parents all proud to be here along with the blue dress clad woman who had taken the seat opposite the Professor. The woman named Asteria who had arrived as a plus one to one of the soldiers who seemed to be oblivious to the odd aura she was giving off that had the golden eyed guardian cautiously keeping her in his attentions for the remainder of her presence there.

A request for you and James to stand from the Priest came. In which James rose with eyes on you to ensure a smooth motion against the voluminous skirt of your gown while never releasing your hand. Hallelujah briefly was sung next from the same chosen singer who then sat again for the rise of Father Thomas to read his own chosen scripture in Latin. All the while James kept a gentle stroke of his thumb against your hand as you were translating in your head what was being said that caused your heart to quicken in the secretive ceremony you had seen played out over the years. When done the Father then stepped from the podium for your next hushed reminder to kneel again. Up to your side he came and began to open with a speech in English. The deep breath he took had triggered James’ hand to tighten a bit more around yours to keep from speaking or staring at you in awe of his breath taking Bride to continue with you to stare at the wall behind the alter.

“In the beginning there was darkness and God spoke ‘Let there be light.’ For every bought of darkness in our world as we ebb and flow between the wars of Men, with each loss involved removing another grain of innocence from the brave souls defending our lands and their children and loved ones left behind. The sting of every bullet and explosion of those projectiles tear through more than just the heart of those within the sights. We all bear the burden, the hunger, the toil. Always in the same endless dark tunnel that so many have to scrape and claw their way out of. Coated in scars, some so deep the human eye cannot see, some that never fully heal. Deep in that darkness it is so simple to just give up, declare defeat and say that you are alone in your suffering. But for every blinding darkness there is a wave of blinding light to follow.

I knew of a small child who had been abandoned, left alone in the rain moved from one funeral to the next without a single person who lifted their eyes from the pavement, who continuously sought shelter in the church from those turbulent storms ravaging our world. A child knew our Heavenly Father would bring the sun back to our world, and he does so through example, rarely do we have a sea parting moment these days to free people from toil and devastation. And in the midst of that devastation these two blessed souls found one another.”

He chuckled and looked to you both that lured your eyes to him in his notice of your joined hands deepening his smile, “And so you two, you are, ready, willing and I think very grateful today.” His words deepening your grins back at him and James’ all the more in his stolen glance at you that had another tear fall from the corner of his eye in  the joy of this moment with you. “You are a beautiful, beautiful couple. I don’t know how God made the two of you, but somehow that’s how it happened.

You have found each other. And in finding each other you have made the decision first in friendship and in love. To take the next gigantic incremental step. It’s the promise, it’s the great promise. The promise that you two will make in just three minutes and it’s a promise that you intend to keep for the rest of your lives. And I hope you know how truly blessed you are. That you whole heartedly give thanks to God. That he has given you the integrity of your lives, and he has given you these families and all of this good fortune. And that you will take it, receive it, all of his love, and make a difference in this world.

Many people have so far less, I know personally the both of you have faced those harsh blows and many toils in your young lives. We need good people, great people like you to make a difference in this world.

Jaqi, I was standing beside James here the moment those doors opened and he just about jumped out of his skin, and I think that’s wonderful, but I just hope in the future the both of you can focus and live in the power and the grace and the gift of this moment. We’re so distracted by the pains of the past, so anxious of the future that we lose the grace of now.” In his glance to the crowd you stole a glance at James whose heart skipped in seeing the misty eyed timid smile that flinched away to the sight of his wide smile at you that won him a joint share in a hushed chuckle that spread smiles wider through the crowd in this surprisingly tender turn to the ceremony.

“There’s a story I recall of a beggar man on a street corner for thirty years, seated on a box with a cap in his hand. Begging for nickels and dimes. A man approaches him and says, ‘get off that box you’ve been sitting on and look inside’. And the beggar says ‘there’s nothing in the box, I’ve been on this box for thirty years there’s nothing there’. So the man says, ‘get off the box!’ So he did, and he lifted the box and you know what he found inside? It was chock full of gold. He was begging for and living off nickels and dimes and all this time there was a fortune right there for him.” He looked to you again.

“So I ask you again, take all the good, the grace, the positive things and blessings you receive in this life and turn around and do good with it, send it back out into the world and spread the love you have been given. One of the hardest things to do for those who had never felt that love, but the true power, the true grace is in loving, in giving. I know you are strong enough to love when scorned, to give when penniless, to scrimp and crawl your way through truly, truly blinding darkness. Bask in the light, in the love, and then send it out. Because I too have faced some of my darkest doubts in a looming war of my own thoughts in the churning sea of the world, always when the sky seemed to drop out and just let loose all the waters you could never dream of. But always on those days through the empty cathedral back in Brooklyn a little girl would sneak in, and shattered the silence with the most ethereal music as a beacon of that love, and at least to me, emptied my mind of that noise and through her, God stilled those waters. If only for a moment and reminded me why I was put here on this earth.

For many years we feared we lost our beacon, when in actuality among a fellow child of God you were sent to rescue others, to guide others home to peace. You were sent to bring Eddie onto his own path, to find James, and his brother, to build a family that across the world, shot a light, just a tiny one, but a light. That is why this promise, these vows are so sacred, you have both come here today to bind yourselves together in the presence of all of us and of our Heavenly Father. Jaqi, now I’ve known you all your life, I baptized you myself, and for the life of me I thought I could never find another person so quiet as you. Then you brought James home,” the crowd chuckled along with you both in his brief pause, “And I have never met such a couple who through silence, could radiate such a poignant noise. Oh you can talk and shout and sing the both of you but always measured when needed. Ebb and flow, like the tide the both of you found one another and keep finding one another like the sea and the rocky shore. A solid pair, made to endure, and you will, now, if you would both turn with me. And would the wedding party please join us.”

Up you both stood and with his hand in a reluctant slide free from your right hand that in the backwards shift of your left folded gladly around that hand in the rise of your Bridal party. With the exception of Eddie and Edie who remained seated, to split in half circles on either side of you down the stairs to meet the sides of the Priest. It was then your eyes wandered over the crowd and landed on your parents who smiled widely and gave you proud flinched waves who you looked away from to keep from running to them. Hand tightening in James’ in his own stolen glance at the couple Erik had to look away from to keep from an open mouthed gawk for the man and woman he knew to be dead alongside the armor and helmet clad duo in full regalia for the occasion.

Peering up at you the Father said, “James and Jaqiearae you have come together in this church so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love. In the presence of the church’s minister and this community. God has abundantly blessed love. He’s consecrated both of you. He now enriches and strengthens you by the sacred sacrament. So that you can assume the duties of marriage in mutual and lasting fidelity. And so I ask both of you now to state your intentions.

James, Jaqiearae, have you come here freely and without reservation? To give yourselves to each other in the sacrament of marriage? Will you say I Do?”

His brows rose and you both chuckled repeating, “I do.”

“Will you love and honor each other as husband and wife for the rest of your lives? Will you say I Will?”

Both say, “I will”

“Will you accept children lovingly from God, bring them up according to the law of our God and of our community? Will you say I Will?”

Both say, “I will.”

“It is your intention then to enter into marriage. Turn to each other, with your still joined hands, and declare your intentions before God.”

He moves closer to James up onto the bottom step to recite each line that James then repeated in as calm a voice as he could muster.

“I, James Pluto Howlett,

take you Jaqiearae Persephone Pear to be my wife.

I promise to be truthful.

In good times, and in bad.

In sickness and in health.

I will love you and I will honor you.

All the days of my life.”

 Again he was on the verge of crying while you blinked away a few tears of your own and gave a giggle in catching the eye of the Priest now smiling at you in a pause for you to draw in a breath. Stating each line for you to repeat as well.

 “I, Jaqiearae Persephone Pear,

take you James Pluto Howlett to be my husband.

I promise to be truthful.

In good times, and in bad.

In sickness and in health.

I will love you and I will honor you.

All the days of my life.”

 One brief moment of silence was given and the Priest spoke again, “My Sister and my Brother you have just declared your consent.”

In Latin he spoke, “Before God and before the church, may our Lord in his goodness strengthen that consent and fill you now both with his blessings. What God joins together let no Men ever sever. Amen.”

“Amen” echoed from the both of you and those in the crowd who were familiar with Catholic services who tugged along those unfamiliar.

To Erik he turned, and now with the tray flat to hold the matching purple stoned bowtie wedding bands, he extended his hands to offer the rings to fulfill his important role in the ceremony. “Now, the rings.” Father Thomas turned and spoke in the approach of one of the older Brock girls in her mid teens with tray in hand for the holy water and sprinkler inside.

“May our Lord bless these rings. They are a sign of your love and faithfulness.” Over to the other tray once lifted in his fingertips he moved them to the second tray. With silver sprinkler in hand he sprinkles holy water across the rings blessing them. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen” lifts rings he carries back to you both commenting, “You chose knotted bows, how fitting.” The words made you look to the rings in James’ adoring smile at you and chuckle excited to be able to kiss you soon and seal the bond and silence the thunder of his heart in his chest. “Here you go, and you, yes this one.” He says while you each release a hand to claim the other’s ring to repeat after him again.

“Jaqiearae take this ring.

As a sign of my love and faithfulness.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

From fingertip to the final knuckle the ring was slid with tender strokes of his fingertips down the length of your finger and across your palm to claim your hand again with his same loving smile. Almost bashfully you stole a blushing glance to the Priest that had you both chuckle again before he spoke to get you started.

“James take this ring.

As a sign of my love and faithfulness.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

To his hand your eyes fell and around the tip of his finger you slid the ring that after which your knuckles slid between his to hook your fingertips together as you heard, “Not far off now,” he murmurs to you both making you chuckle in his turn to the crowd, “Let’s congratulate this bride and groom now.” He says stirring claps and cheers from the crowd, “And now for the Prayers of the Faithful.”

The cheers died down again as your left hand released his right to ready your skirt for the next move. Turned back to the prayer stools you lowered to kneel again with hands rotated for his to engulf yours again to grant view of both of your rings in the tuck of his fingertips between your fingers as your Bridal party claimed their seats again. While in front of you both the Priest gestured to Eddie and Edie who approach with large rosary chain for the wedding lasso they come up and drape around the both of your shoulders. In their step back to their seats he continues after asking everyone to stand.

Beginning the Latin Euchratic Prayer for the communion for that next official step in the ceremony. First speaking of the plate and then the cup of the communion continuing on until he calls Eddie and Edie up to retrieve the rosary from their shoulders asks you both to stand once again to lead the crowd through the Our Father Prayer.

Another turn had a shuffle of hands and almost had James break the rules and give you a twirl in his eager wish to get you to the barn for that opening dance as a full excuse to keep you in his arms for the rest of the day until he could steal you away. For this prayer your eyes darted from your still lingering parents to the Royal Family still seated inside the sea of standing guests around them. After which their confusion grew at the trading of handshakes and hugs through the crowds for the Exchange of Peace for the lift of your skirt to walk with James down to the rows of your relatives to hug one at a time post near tackling group hug from the Brock children who walked you down the aisle. A bit more open the Prime Minister and his guest shook hands with the First Family and to you both on your way back up to the alter with kind smiles and nods sent to the Royal Family who while a bit perplexed at this ceremony so different to their usual wedding seemed a bit pleased they hadn’t upset you by not taking part.

Back up again with interlocked hands you walked up to kneel again for the beginning of the communion. While settling there Father Thomas shared that those of other faiths are welcome to approach and receive blessings or otherwise are welcome to remain in their seats while those who wish to receive communion.

From the ceremonial plate and cup communion is given post introductory statement on the purpose of communion to the both of you first. Alone he left you still kneeling with cup across from you and try in hand to the rise of the same singer to begin the song ‘Panis Angelicus’ while an aid stood to guide row by row those willing to take communion or accept blessings up to the Priest to loop around and retake their seats again.

‘Ave Maria’ was begun at the end of communion that signaled James to help you up to your feet again in the offer from the Priest to you of a second smaller bundle of flowers you took to the statue of the Virgin Mary statue at a second spot off to the side for a joint hushed prayer between the pair of you alone. By use of an agreed squeeze of thumbs to warn of the end of your individual prayers an agreed joint rise again ended the up and down with the walk to face the Priest again who was still beside the kneeling stools. His smile spread and gladly he claimed hugs from the both of you with hushed congratulations and while you both had your eyes on him he spoke again.

“My Brothers and Sisters, the Lord be with you. And may almighty God bless each one of us, in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.” He says motioning his hand in a cross over you both and the crowds while you and James cross yourselves along with the crowds. “Our mass has ended. And I would invite you two to turn around,” he said with a smile for your turn to face the smiling crowd. “It is with a great deal of joy and an honor for me to introduce to you this afternoon, for the first time, Mr James Pluto Howlett and Mrs Jaqiearae Persephone Pear Howlett, Husband and Wife. Congratulate them now.” The crowd stood in cheers after a few stunned expressions at you taking both names cheered and clapped in James’ turn to cup your cheeks in a loving kiss all the sweeter in the muffling of your giddy giggles.

Just barely you had lifted your arms to circle his neck and out of the blissful moment he tore himself from the lip lock to lift you in his arms. Again you giggled in a reach up to wipe the lipstick from around his mouth answered by his chuckling trot down the steps to the doors to carry you to your seats in the barn where the reception was already prepped. Your own lipstick smudges were fixed by your free hand with Father Thomas chuckling and passing you your bouquet over James’ shoulder helping you to loop your arms around his neck.

Right behind James’ back you spotted your parents in a hurried trot behind you who smiled as you said hushedly in a tearful squeak once alone outside, “Daddy, Mom.”

“You are spectacular my Queen of the Cosmos.” He rumbled and caught up to James’ left side as your mother smoothed her hand over your back luring a sniffle from you. He spoke again catching James’ eye, “I am so pleased you are together again. Well done. The mortals cannot see us,” he said looking to you again, “When will you be alone?”

“Tonight, after the reception at the cabin by the lake.”

To James he asked, “Would you mind sparing me a dance for our Queen tonight?”

James smiled answering, “As many as you would be able to grant her.”

Sarah spoke to you saying in a melodic Irish accented hum, “Well done my precious Bunny. I’m so proud of you. What a stunning Bride.” She said moving in to hug you around your back, a move that in her pull back had Eddie’s mouth open in seeing the dead duo with his own eyes, “We will see you tonight and enjoy watching your reception. I love you, treasure this day, your new beginning.” Each word sank in to her excited trot ahead to take your father’s hand to get a sneak peek inside the open barn stirring hints of the accent to certain words or vowel sounds you had picked up from her even against her lessons to get you a more American accent to give you and Steve a better footing.

Warm and sweet James kissed your cheek to the tap of your forehead to his temple and he hummed to you, “I look forward to meeting your parents tonight. Perhaps they can give you some answers to give you some peace.”

“I know it’s our honeymoon.”

Lowly he chuckled passing into the shadow of the barn approaching the door he passed through, “I love you, I am yours forever. If tonight is all we have for you to speak to them let’s savor it Darling.”

Inside you caught their awed stroll around the effortlessly elegant decorated tables in a weaving path towards the bar where Eddie strolled with Victor at his side who caught onto his chasing the odd couple that when they turned he instantly caught the resemblance and who they belonged to. Sweetly you were settled into your chair and sweetly kissed again by your chuckling husband who smiled in your second move to wipe the pesky lipstick off his lips he used his thumb to wipe a hint of a smudge away from your lips joined by another in a second stolen peck. “I love you Darling.”

With a grin your hand rose to settle around his engagement ring that in your tug on it he smiled deeper and let you move the ring in front of his wedding band. A move that he mirrored to move yours over as well. Excitedly people found their seats, including Portia, who took the long way around to steal a hug from you to share her pure glee for how beautiful the ceremony was, matched by a firm handshake from her father and brother for James on their way past. Elliot upon seeing where your parents were moved to join Eddie and Victor in their chat with them, that to the others was taken as a conversation in private between the two in the drift of your eyes to Edie that came to sit on your left with Erik. The both who sat down and looked to their empty plates then you at your lean closer to them to whisper, “Apparently they found a door back here for the big day, but only we can see them.”

Edie asked, “You can see them? Oh I am so relieved.” Her hand patted on top of yours luring your smile wider, “The service was beautiful. Quite unlike any I have seen before. Very loving.”

With a giggle you said, “Yes, usually the sermons are a lot less personal for the ceremonies I’ve seen.”

Erik chuckled saying, “Probably because the Priest stated he knew you as a baby.”

As if on cue Father Thomas entered and for the entrance of the special guests everyone stood for their stroll to the table beside the one for your siblings, aunt and cousin opposite the ones containing the rest of the Brocks. Once King George had taken his seat you all could sit again, though in the settle of your skirt you smiled and lifted Teddy onto your lap after his hurried path over to be with you answering for Gina as to where he had gone. From the side of the room one of the caterers brought over a large towel they helped to spread over your lap under the boy you had lifted to prevent any spills to ruin the dress.

Elliot had slipped back to his seat at your table while the Priest did the same. Eddie took the floor first in the break for speeches while everything switched over for the food to be served. Around the table he walked to give you a quick hug from behind you smiled through and laid your hands on his arms to his gentle peck on your cheek for the photographers to capture along with Teddy’s pat on his head when he pulled back to give his speech at the microphone. A smile eased across his lips and in a shuffle of his feet to hold his weight he looked to you in the crowd knowing what he wanted to say.

“Bunny, I guess I’ll get this started off and do my best to not make you cry. I grew up the baby to my sisters until you chose me to be your big brother. Roughly, ten years ago you changed my life. And you were in desperate need of a big brother while I didn’t realize how terribly I needed a baby sister.” His smile spread to your grin and peck on Teddy’s head in his cuddle closer to your chest.

“My impossible sister, who together, we got through the edge of Hell and back. I never imagined ever finding a man who would be able to cherish, protect and respect you up to the level I expected to hold them to. Nobody would have ever been enough was my thinking. Then five years ago with the kick of a door,” That had your eyes close a moment in a set of giggles to Victor and James’ chuckles.

“The brother of the man who nearly broke your hand strolled into our lives. It would be a couple years before we’d get to know the both of you, Vic and James, who in a trade of luck we ended up in two platoons who saw just how incredible my baby sister is. Countless planes and tanks later and we found our way back to the beginning again. There’s never really an end to the baggage but bravely James you stuck in there, you both gave us a home here in Canada helped us to get our feet on the ground. The both of us got our degrees, we toured the states coast to coast and found a way to get my sister to the school your dad went to, one of the best. And way out of left field James after a single tour of the fire trap her old place used to be you plopped down cash and we got to gutting for one heck of a surprise in showing us a bit more about your own hidden skills. Turned around and taught Bunny how to demolish and remodel homes for another skill we can use for the future no matter where it leads.”

He paused a moment to wet his lips and said, “Six years now, we’ve been interweaving our lives and you’ve always been there for me. Helped me to smooth things over with Dawn over my own nerves and two left feet for a phenomenal woman like her, you were there when my babies were born, you were the one who helped to save my son when he came early out of left field. I can’t tell you how glad I was when I won the pot for how you’d demanded James take you on a date,” you giggled again in James’ lean into your side with fingers easing underneath the underside of your arm looped around Teddy to keep him upright. “Nowhere near how over the moon the whole family and town was when you got engaged. And we are so glad, me and Vic, that you didn’t get mad when the both of us got engaged and hitched before you.”

James smiled and chuckled out as Victor said, “Plus babies.”

Eddie chuckled smiling at you, “Plus babies, two for me. And you never took that against us, welcomed us into your family and our babies that you love like no one else could. And you got one year down, nearly to your degree a good chunk already, comic book, photography, and the world is wide open for you. None of us can wait to see what you will get up to in years to come with James at your side to make sure no one steps in your way. I love you Bunny, and even you too James, and everyone here is quite eager to see what sort of babies Battle Bunny and Wolverine can create. We’re always here for the both of you if you need us because you’ve always been so selfless for us, and no hard promises but we will do our best to not have too many more babies before you do.”

Eddie chuckled in the claps to his stroll back to his seat with a grin to Victor’s pop up to give his own speech. Victor’s speech had you laughing and James dangerously close to hiding under the table from his brother’s lovable ribbing. Five more speeches came from the Brocks and the guys working with you on the comic who teased more than a few in attendance today would be up for abduction in the big wedding issue luring amused chuckles and glances between one another. After them President Truman then King George spoke and the latter asked to open the dancing with you that had James requesting Queen Elizabeth’s hand for a dance. “Incredible ceremony Baroness Howlett.” King George said with a smile you smiled back, “Quite unlike what I had expected.”

“Well Father Thomas made it a great deal more personal. Usually they are much less casual and friendly. Thank you for coming, I hope the footage is up to what you wanted.”

He smirked saying, “There have been whispers of those who wish to watch my own daughter on her wedding day across the big screen.”

“Well I know what you plan will be beyond perfect for her. Can’t imagine how happy you’ll be, I know my dad talked about my wedding when I was little. I know my parents would have been happy though.”

“Oh beyond happy, and as a father myself I would be amply proud if my Lizibet carries herself with half as much grace in such a grand affair as this on her day.”

“Thank you. I’m beyond certain she will make you proud.”

The second dance had you both Trading for the President and First Lady. Eddie took up what would have been the Father, Daughter dance that after which he in a spin traded you off to claim Dawn and let you finally dance with James before the food would be served.

Truman in your second dance claimed your hand pleased to see the King and Queen take one another for the second dance as James claimed the First Lady for a second obligatory dance before he was all yours. “You are truly a picture perfect Bride, Mrs Bunny.”

“Thank you. No doubt I’ll be hearing all about this back at Barnard when summer is over.”

“Oh you will. I was a bit shocked to hear about your title however.”

“You and me both, he didn’t know they would be sharing the news about it. He’s not how I would picture a Baron.”

“True,” he said, “Quite down to earth.”

“Out here he works in a lumber mill, they have land, and a big house he grew up in we’ve fixed up but I suppose the title was always linked to his harsh Grandfather.”

With a smirk he replied, “All the same, we will be grateful to see the titles across the front pages of the Baroness of Brooklyn when you return home again.” You chuckled and stole a glance at James in his own smiling glance at his own wife, widely James smiled picking up their conversation when she looked back again to hold up the small talk until you could trade off for each other.

Taps on shoulders found you outside in the final gasps of time until the food would be ready as the smiling crowds danced away. Right to your side Loki strode while atop baled of hay coated in lengths of carpet your bridal party and the Brock children involved in the march were lined up. “Fairly odd ceremony.” That had your eyes shift to him for his addition of, “Quite lovely by mortal standard I would imagine.”

“Why do I get the hint that was almost painful for you to say?” You teased in a whisper making him smirk in his watch of your stroll over to the signal to be helped to the center where James had been manhandled to.

The children would be freed first after their group pictures had been captured and the Bridal Parties would be sent next just leaving a few intimate pictures with you both at James’ side and in his arms. All ranged from a picture of you twirling your skirts that had his smile wide to one post loving kiss of him smiling in another wipe of his face. All three which would be printed side by side in the promised magazine edition on the highly anticipated wedding that the crown Press Secretary was taking notes of the ceremony to add details to share with the writer of said approved piece. The warning the food was ready however found you excitedly back on the way inside, both kissing Teddy’s cheeks on the way back to your seats on his father’s lap widening his own smile.  

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Sorry it's been a bit between my last update. Been out of power a couple days. But so far we are back up and running again.

Also I did have it pointed out that I had mistakenly made it seem that the drive from Brooklyn to Alberta was closer to 8-10 hours somehow as it's in real life 40 hours to drive between them. So somewhere my dyslexic mess of a self has mixed up the flight time or simply just jumbled the numbers when i was writing it since the first trip. So please just excuse my mix up and find it all the more amusing at the thought of a 40 hour drive with two adults, two large dogs and a cat cramped in the cab of a truck to drive between one home to the next.

Lots of warm wishes to you all, happy reading and i wish you and your families in whatever form they come a safe winter wherever you are. :D

Pt 43