#Pool tile cleaning Queens

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Here's another former post that hasn't sold. I don't know why- the 1964 property in Arvada, CO may look boring on the outside, but there's fun on the inside. 5bds, 5ba, $1.99M + $17mo. HOA. The listing was removed in 6/21 and just re-listed 3 yrs. later in 6/24.

Look, it's like a tropical paradise. Nice and bright, perfect for plants.

And, since the home is actually a mid-century build it has a cool conversation pit. Look at that - a raised electric fireplace.

Then, over here they have some bean bag chairs, but you could put whatever style of furniture you like, and there's a Zen looking symbol in the floor, which is bamboo. Note, the brick wall planter and corner fireplace.

There's also a brick wall here, so you can be in your cozy tropical paradise even thru a Colorado winter. There are also lots of skylights for natural sunlight.

Then, to get the hot tub, you go thru the opening in the stone walls.

And, look at the natural stone path to the hot tub. This is seriously a tropical vacation right at home. I wonder if the plants convey.

A very large kitchen is part of the open concept design.

The brick wall and a fireplace extend to the kitchen. I like all those hanging lights and the black counters.

There's also a very large indoor pool with a sitting area on one end that opens to the patio.

The primary bedroom is above the pool in a large loft that features a swim-way in the floor for fish to go back and forth. It appears that the glass is in 3 sections so that it can be cleaned. There's also a yin & yang symbol in the floor.

The room is surrounded by bamboo, rock walls and stairs, with a glass wall so you can see the pond where the fish come back from the tunnels in the floor. Also note the blue ball lights above.

The en-suite bath carries out the theme with beautiful blue galss sinks and a large stone and tile shower plus river pebbles on the walls.

There's quite a large home gym.

And, check out this interesting bath.

The other home on the property is nice, but it's not as elaborate. I imagine that it would be a rental.

The main house has a brick patio with a fire pit and there's also a rooftop deck.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/8280-Queen-St-Arvada-CO-80005/13697521_zpid/

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

"So what did you want to do until your mom's done with her meeting? There has to be fun things to do around here. What do you like?"

Theo watched the princess consider his question carefully. It wasn't the end of the world if they couldn't come up with an activity to kill time, but Victoriana looked like she was seriously weighing the question in her mind.

"We could read," she suggested at last. "There's lots of books here about history and wars and even some on cooking. That's usually what I do when I'm waiting for Mom."

"Reading is fun, but there's three of us here and I don't want to have to read the books out loud for everyone to hear," Theo decided. "How about you give us a tour using what you learned by reading all those books? I've never seen this castle before."

That was a little white lie, but Theo didn't think that he'd be caught in it. He had been in Crystal Cove's castle before for school, but he'd retained very little information about it. 

The little girl shrugged, seemingly uninterested in the suggestion. 

"Kay. I remember some of it, I guess. What my teacher taught me anyway."

Victoriana gestured beside them at a staircase that looked too expensive to use.

"This is the oldest castle owned by Crystal Cove. It was once privately owned by Prince Liam Wenlock of Crystal Cove to entertain his guests. It was the site of many battles in the Crystal Cove civil war and lots of people died here, leaving ghosts that people still see at night sometimes."

Adam and Theo shared a look of surprise. Of course the princess would be able to lead a tour at a moment's notice in a foreign country. While she looked like an ordinary kid, obviously the queen had been educating her daughter to a higher standard than even Theo's school. 

"They have a pool here," Victoriana continued. "I've gone swimming in it a few times. Some people died in it a long time ago too. In the war after the Great Demon War, I forget what it's called. There's a statue by the door about it. Come on, I'll show you!"

“People died in this pool?” Theo repeated warily. “Like drowning because they drank too much and there wasn’t a life guard?”

Adam gave his boyfriend a pointed look and Theo nodded solemnly, realizing that once again he’d been too optimistic about the cause of death of most people in his history textbooks.

“So not accidental drowning then. Gotcha. But no one recently, right? This was centuries ago and the pool has been re-tiled and cleaned since then?”

“I guess,” Victoriana replied, a cocky half-smirk gracing her face. “That I know of anyway.”

“If you want more recent history, these portraits were painted within the last few centuries,” the eager princess continued. “The one on the left isn’t a princess of Crystal Cove, but her aunt was the queen here and the portrait was commissioned by the family. She was Medora’s mom; I think you know her from school. Her mom died really young.”

“In the pool?” Theo asked, barely masking his horror at the macabre tour. His school was old and filled with pictures of dead witches, but the detail and interest Victoriana had for royal history was unnerving. He supposed it made sense considering that she would one day rule the strongest nation there was, but if he were in her place, he’d dial down the amount of death included on the tour.

“In a car accident, duh,” Victoriana replied, as if Theo was unfathomably stupid for not knowing this information. Sure he was friends with Medora-if she ever forgave him and answered his texts again- but her parents’ cause of death had never come up naturally in a conversation. People didn’t just start talking about the way they’d been orphaned to their friends. It was something Medora had never revealed to him.

“Right. Of course. She looks like Medora.”

“The woman in the middle is Queen Georgiana of Pleasantview,” Adam said, hoping to get the conversation away from the dead mother of the girl his boyfriend had been found kissing. The less time Theo spent thinking about his rich, beautiful friend with feelings for him, the better.

“Princess Georgiana,” Victoriana quickly corrected. “She was never legally queen. Her birth caused the civil war in Crystal Cove and paved the way for the Crystal Empire.”

“Oh! I know her, she was on my history test last semester!” Theo exclaimed. “She was the heir to the Crystal Cove throne, but her parents lied about her paternity. The crown prince wasn’t her father, the future queen of Pleasantview was her other parent. Then her parentage leaked and she became the heir of Pleasantview’s throne and waged war against her half-brother for control of Crystal Cove. The White Princess versus the Black Prince, right? His armor was supposed to be as black as his crimes. Did he die here? Is he one of the ghosts that haunts this place?”

Victoriana gave him a pitying look.

“No, he was executed for treason when his son took the throne from him,” she explained. “Nowhere near here...though he did grow up in these halls. Both he and his half-sister Georgiana used to live here. Maybe their ghosts decided to stick around here with all the murdered souls who died on the property.”

Theo shuddered at the thought of ghosts and murder and hidden graves. He wasn’t squeamish, but the thought of living in a place where so many people had violently died and had maybe been buried disturbed him. He could handle demons and witches easily, but he had seen Adrienne interact with angry spirits enough to know that they were dangerous if provoked. Maybe his sister could help exorcise any angry spirits on this lot when she was older and more experienced.

“Hey, how about we skip the tour and do something else,” Theo suggested. “Anything else. Something that isn’t going to give me nightmares to think about.”

“Like what? I think the pool has a tv installed above it. We could watch that.”

“I think we can do better than that,” Theo replied, pivoting away from spending time in the haunted pool room. “Look, there’s a stereo. We could listen to music and dance. I think that’d be fun...and safe. None of the people who died here hated music, right? Dancing always helps me relax.”

“Theo, we’re supposed to be guarding the crown princess, not having a dance party,” Adam pointed out, looking less than thrilled about the idea. “I’m sure that Her Majesty would want us to keep things formal and maybe browse through the archives here for school or something. Maybe start a special research project like my dad always says I should.”

“My vote is for a dance party,” Victoriana said quickly. “I study every single day so I should be allowed to have fun too. In fact, I order you to play some music. I’m a princess, not a tour guide. Mom never lets me have any fun.”

To Adam’s horror, Theo and Victoriana located a nearby speaker and connected it to Theo’s phone. Music blared out of it and Adam was convinced that the royal guards would be at their side any moment now, ready to remove the annoyance. Castles were formal, unchangeable things, ruled by formality and authority. They weren’t places to let your hair down and have fun; they were serious places where the hierarchy of their society was enforced.

Still, it did look like Theo and Victoriana were having fun. Adam knew that his boyfriend was obsessed with music and dancing and always had been. Even in their early days at school, Theo had proudly announced that he was going to start a band of his own and tour the world. Aside from magic and sneaking kisses when the teachers weren’t looking, music was his passion. It looked like Victoriana was similar to Theo, judging on her enthusiastic dance moves. 

“You guys, we’re going to get in trouble,” Adam tried weakly. “What if the rest of the royal family is here and we’re bothering them? What if my dad finds out about this? We need to be professional!”

Adam’s words fell on deaf ears. Theo and the princess had given themselves over to the rhythm of a song, dancing horribly with undeserved confidence. They were awful to watch, but their love of the music was contagious. Despite his reservations, Adam could feel his own body begin to sway to the music. This moment of weakness was exploited by Theo, who held out a hand inviting him to join them with a goofy smile. Adam’s hesitation dissolved the instant Theo pulled him close and playfully twirled him around, nearly bumping into Victoriana.

Adam had made a decent effort to remain true to his father’s expectations, but Victoriana was laughing and enjoying herself and that was enough to make Adam lay down his protests.

After all, it he couldn’t beat them, he should probably just join them.

[danielpoussart]

The best amenities at which Disney parks

Around Disney World, some other resorts and hotels offer extras comparable to those found at Disney hotels. These include the Coronado Springs Resort and the Swan Reserve. Some of these, however, are not Disney-owned and might not provide the facilities found at Disney resorts.

The Old Key West resort is a sizable, spacious resort with easy access to all necessary amenities. The Hospitality House is nearest to all the amenities. Therefore, it is ideal to stay close by. The bus, which makes a 20-minute loop around the resort, is another option for visitors.

The hotel has four swimming pools: the main pool, the kids' pool, the sauna, and the hot tub. The main pool is the only pool with lifeguards on duty and a slide. In addition, turtle Pond Road features a second pool, playground, and snack bar. Between buildings 19 and 20, there are also two recreational swimming pools. Open from 9:00 am to 10:00 pm, the pools are.

The northern Mexican and Spanish traditions are the basis for Disney World's Coronado Springs Resort. There are plazas, courtyards, and residences in the pueblo style throughout the resort. The Gran Destino Tower, Moorish lamps, Spanish tiles, and Salvador Dali-inspired design elements are all present.

The resort contains a spa, a salon, and a gift shop where you can buy Disney-related goods and food. The resort also offers daycare options and a meeting centre. You can use the dry cleaning and washing services if you change your clothes. Additionally, the resort offers self-parking for $20 per night.

Coronado Springs has excellent landscaping. The Gran Destino Tower, a new tower hotel, has recently been added as part of a recent renovation. However, the tower is the only budget hotel with inside rooms. The additional lodging options at Coronado Springs are scattered throughout the lake's communities. These are less expensive than the accommodations in Coronado Springs.

The hotel offers a range of room sizes, including villas with one, two, and three bedrooms. These rooms come with balconies and kitchenettes in them. Some of the rooms have several conveniences for families and queen-sized sofabeds. Old Key West is a favourite choice for Disney holidays, and you can count on a good night's sleep there.

The Pop Century Resort offers something for everyone, whether you are a frequent visitor to Disney parks or a first-timer. The wacky motif of the hotel extends to the pools and entertaining features. For instance, the Hippy Dippy Pool, which features water jets in the shape of daisies, is influenced by 1960s flower power. Another feature is a foosball court that is life-size. At the Pop Century resort, there are three themed swimming pools.

Pop Century was built in 2003 and just underwent a significant renovation. While some rooms feature one king bed, some offer two queen beds. Some of the rooms even have a coffee maker. In addition, some rooms have a refrigerator and a hair dryer, while others don't.

The resort's on-site pool is also open to guests, and it comes with lounge chairs and a fire pit. The pool is a tranquil retreat from the Magic Kingdom, next to a restaurant and pool bar. The Swan and Dolphin, which also has a beach and cave, is only a five-minute stroll from the hotel. There is a ton of entertainment and party music available at the Swan and Dolphin.

The Kilimanjaro Club and luxury rooms are only a few abundant lodging options available at the Animal Kingdom in Disney park. The latter provides more amenities and more individualized care. Seventy rooms make up the concierge-level club known as The Kilimanjaro Club. Kilimanjaro Club rooms provide more bedrooms, space, and separate check-in areas than regular Animal Kingdom Jambo hotel rooms.

There are numerous amenities in the Swan Reserve at Disney parks that are unmatched. Departing at the Transportation and Ticket Center, travellers can enjoy complimentary theme park parking and transportation aboard Disney buses. The Swan's visitors can enter theme parks first. Additionally, theme park tickets are available at the Swan for its guests.

Many of the animals that wander the Savanna throughout the day can be seen by guests staying at the Animal Kingdom Lodge. Additionally, many of these rooms include many trees and lovely vegetation.

[marktorres593-blog]

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Hot Springs

This can be read as part of Rest Your Weary Hands or as a stand alone fic.

Contains: Fluff, smut (oral sex M receiving, fingering, p in v) my tag list is totally messed up, for the most reliable updates on this series follow #rest your weary hands I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

2,816 words

Comment if you want to be tagged and in what.

You are Ivar enjoy your first anniversary in one of the North's most beautiful locations.

"Are you ready to leave?" You nodded, "of course husband, I think our journey will be smooth, the carriage is already packed." Ivar put his hand on your lower back and walked you out of The Great Hall, wishing his brother a warm goodbye before kneeling by your twins who were with his mother.

"We'll be back in two weeks, don't give your grandmother any trouble. They babbled and your little girl reached up to pat his face "bi dada." He kissed her tiny nose then patted his son on his crop of hair, "bye you two."

You walked behind your husband and farewelled your children, your little boy reaching out as you walked away, "I'll be back soon little one, be nice to your uncles."

Ivar got into the covered wagon first, helping you up with a warm hand, "my lady." You smiled, "I can't wait to get there, I'm still can't believe you manage to get the best cabin." Ivar rested his head on your shoulder, "only the best for you."

After a day and a half of gentle travel, you arrived. Up a long, winding mountain path, you reached a clearing and went through a gate. The smell hit you first, of clean water and steam then there was the heat, it was pleasant and inviting.

Somone greeted you at the gate, "hello My Queen, My King. I'll take you to the cabin." As you entered the area you could see what all the fuss was about. Surrounded by trees were pools of various sized, some deep, some wide, some with lots of steam billowing off them, some with barely any.

There were cabins around the edge of the pools facing them but you were taken down a long path through the forest to a large cabin that was a quick walk away from its own personal group of hot springs.

"We marked the ones that are too hot to use but always check before getting in and get out right away if one starts to heat up. To use the tub in your room, you'll have to turn to wheel on the outside then the tap inside."

Ivar thanked the man and you went inside. The cabin was amazing, it was cosy, one room with a bed in the middle and a kitchen in the corner, there were furs over every surface except for a large tiles patch in the middle of the room, which held a huge tub. Off one side of the tub and going into the wall was a troff, it was dry right now but it was pretty obvious that it's where the hot spring water would come from.

The kitchen was stocked with simple ingredients, there wasn't enough for the two weeks you were staying but next to the cleaned fish, there was a little note stating what foods were available from the commercial kitchen, bosting that the cooks used a special hot spring.

"Oooo, I think I'm going to get the chicken soup from dinner." Ivar smiled, "whatever you want my love."

*******

You started the day in one of the wider springs, it was just cusping too hot to be comfortable but with the cold mountain air around you, it was lovely. The orders had been pretty clear, no one was to bother you without sending word first so no one would see either of you in a state of undress.

You were resting in Ivar's arms while you both looked at the grey blue sky above, "do you think it's going to rain tonight?" You shrugged, "not sure, I think we'll be warm regardless." He laughed softly, "you will be, if you stick your cold limbs on me I won't be."

You shoved his side gently with your elbow, "you love my cold limbs." He turned his head and kissed you, "yes, I do." You sat in the pool until your fingertips began to wrinkle, "I look liked a dried grape, shall we go for a walk?" Ivar nodded, "sure, the woods here are very peaceful."

Soon after, you were walking arm in arm with your husband, it was a slow walk with Ivar and his crutch but you didn't mind, there was plenty of time to stop and enjoy the scenery. "Is that what I think it is?" He was pointing to a far off tree, when you looked over, you saw what he was talking about.

"Two toads fucking? I think so, why did you feel the need to the point that out?" He laughed, "well, if the toads are doing it in front us of, we can do it in front of them." You shook your head, "we are staying in one of the best inns in the whole north and you want to fuck on the forest floor?" He smirked, "when I have a wife that looks like you? Any chance I get."

You shook your head, "can we at least find a clearing? There are pine needles everywhere." Ivar smirked again, "of course wife, I wouldn't want you to get anything in your hair."

After ten minutes of walking, you found a small clearing free of trees, likely taken for firewood, "here?" Ivar nodded and sat down, pulling you with him, "we can see the sky from here too, it's definitely going to rain tonight."

"Well then, we better get to it before be have to head back to the cabin for dinner." Ivar rolled on top of your, rubbing his face in your neck, "I'm glad you chose a dress today, pants would have made this a lot more work."

You tilted your head, "I'd offer you one too but I don't think you'd fit." You giggled and he bit your neck, "you're a brat." You laughed and hooked your leg over his, fliping you both over.

"Am not, you're just being stiff." He smiled and pushed himself up on his elbows, "you should do something about that." You peeled away the tie on his top and kissed his chest, "you being stiff or your prick being stiff?" He put his hand on the place where your neck met your shoulder and ran his thumb over the skin, "what do you think?"

You kissed down his skin until you got to the last eyelet on his top then pulled it off his body, kissing over his tattoos and down his chest. He moaned when you circled his nipple with your tongue, "each second you tease me will a a minute for you when were in bed." You bit his side, "oh, I'm shaking in my boots."

His hand found its way to your head, there was no pushing, it just rested there, loving, as you made your way down his skin. When you untied and pulled his pants down, his cock sprung free, hitting his stomach. You started with the softest of kisses, up down and back again, "y/n remember what I said about teasing."

"I'm not teasing Ivar, only you do that." He smiled but did his best to hide it, "well, get to it or you'll get it worse from me later." You moved your lips to the tip and after another light kiss, replied, "you say that like it's a bad thing."

Before he could respond, you flattened your tongue and licked a firm stripe up the same path before sucking the head into your mouth. Ivar's head felt against the ground as the salty taste of his pre-cum coated your tongue.

"Fuck, if I didn't love to hear you speak my cock would never be out of your mouth." He felt you giggle, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure up his body. You continued until he put gentle pressure on your cheek and you nodded as best you could while he was in your mouth.

Ivar was bucking his hips in earnest now and a few seconds later, you felt him cum down your throat. You pulled up his pants as kissed up his body, landing on his lips. "Did you enjoy that my love?" He rolled his eyes, "for someone so smart, you ask very silly questions sometimes."

He kissed you hard, his hands coming to cradle your face. Just as he was about to roll you over to return the favour, the rain started, "shit, we have to get back to the cabin before it really starts to come down."

What followed was a mad dash, or as mad as it could be, through the forest and back to the warmth of fire and furs. Just as you could see the cabin, you waved your arm at Ivar, "go inside, start the fire and turn the tap on, I'll get that bath going." He paused for a moment before listening, the growing cold beginning to hurt his legs.

It didn't take you long to get the water flowing, you could still see steam coming off the surface so the bath would still be warm. The fire had warmed some of the cabin when you got in, Ivar having already shed his wet clothes. "I guess I'll put dinner on, we can't really get the soup tonight."

You got out of your wet clothes and warmed up as Ivar heated the pots, coming up behind him to wrap your arms around his body. "I could get used to this." He chuckled, "really? Well, when we don't have a kingdom to run, I'll build you a cabin in the woods outside Kattegat, and then I'll cook for you whenever you want."

You lifted yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I think that would be really nice." You helped Ivar with dinner and then sat down at the small table, legs touching.

"You did really well, we must teach Ubbe how to cook." Ivar smiled, "yes, he will have women lined up down the street when he's ready to wed if we do that." You shook your head, "he's only a baby, we have plenty of time to wait before he's ready to marry."

Ivar looped his leg with yours, "well Kelda should learn to fight just like you, no daughter of mine will spend her life defenceless." You took his hand in yours, "agreed."

"Do you ever worry that they won't be able to keep the same system going, that one day they will fight with their cousins and things will go back to the wat they were before?" He shook his head, "no, they already love each other, I can't see things ever going back to the way they were before."

You smiled, "yeah, you're right." With dinner finished, you settled into bed. Ivar pulled the furs over both of you and pulled you into his arms, "are you warm my love?" You nodded, "very much so." You turned over, laying your chest on his and kissed him.

"I guess I promised to pay you back for all your teasing today." The arrogance in his voice made you want to bite him, which you did. "Yes, you did."

He chuckled, "must you always bite me?" You kissed the spot where your teeth previously touched, "you love it."

He pulled himself out from under you and pressed a kiss to your neck, "yes I do." His lips stayed on your neck while his hand moved down your body and went under your nightgown, he cupped your mound, gently squeezing rhythmically, it was maddening.

"Are you going to be good for me?" You smiled softly up at him, "no." He smirked, "it's ok my sweet girl, you'll change your tune soon enough." His hand didn't change its movement, his lips staying on your neck.

You could understand what he was doing, he did it all the time, he wanted you to beg. You glared at him with insolence, "I won't beg that easy." He smiled against your skin, "I know, it makes when you do all the sweeter."

He shifted his weight and his free hand came to stroke your face, your eyes closing with the gentle touch. "I love you." You smiled softly, "I love you too." His nose rubbed yours as the hand between your legs became firmer, then his fingers were running through your slit.

"For someone who's going to refuse to beg, you're wet." You nibbled his ear, "it's not my fault you're so handsome." His thumb found your clit and you gasped, "you really don't need to be cruel, I wasn't that mean to you."

The laugh he let out was short and sharp, "that's not the point dearest, you are a brat and need to learn a lesson." He slid two thick fingers inside you, smiling as you whimpered. He hovered on his elbows over you, watching your face as his fingers moved with practised ease.

You held off for as long as you could, your nightgown was sticking to your skin. "Ivar, please." He chuckled, "not yet my love." You took a deep breath, trying to stay on the edge rather than fall over it. Ivar smiled at your effort, "see, it's not that hard to be good for me." you gritted your teeth, the urge to flip over and make him beg was growing.

"You're going so well from me, just a little longer." His voice was soft and spoken right into your ear. You nodded and he kissed you, slow and warm. Just a little longer was a lie, after a while, he started to pause and slow down so he wasn't in the mood for you to give him a reason to punish you.

"Ivar, you're being cruel." Another chuckled and then he was sliding another finger inside you, "let go sweet girl." He kissed you through it, smiling against your lips. He pulled away from you and sat up, watching your chest heave.

"I'm going to get up and get you some food and then we can keep going, ok?" You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. Ivar came back with some buttered bread for both you of.

"You're not cold?" He shook his head, "no love, it's nice and warm in here." Once the food was fished, you pulled your nightdress over your head and laid back down, Ivar shedding his clothes as fast as he could.

He climbed on top of you and you smiled, hooking your leg around his and flipping over so you were on top. You put your hands on his chest and settled over his pelvis, rubbing your core onto his hard cock, "you know this only ends one way wife." You shook your head, "yes, with me riding you until you can't think."

His hands found your hips as you lifted them, grabbed his cock and slid down. His head fell back against the pillow and his eyes fluttered, a groan pushing past his lips.You started moving slowly, Ivar's hands supporting you lovingly.

You rocked your hips back and forth, one of Ivar's hands left your hip to rub your clit, his eyes moving from your body to your face and back again. "Fucking hel, you are the most exquisite creature I've ever seen." You smiled and leaned down to kiss him, the hand on your hip moved to hold you against him.

You felt warmth starting to spread through your core, speeding up as you fell over the edge. Ivar grunted like an animal, bucking his hip into you as he followed you into bliss.

You collapsed against his chest, Ivar hands moving up and down your back. You lifted your head to look at his face, his lips were plump and red from being bitten and he had a sheen of sweat over his forehead.

"You good?" You nodded and climbed off him, getting a damp cloth to clean you both up. Ivar smiled and pulled you into his arms, "I love you." You settled into his chest, "I love you too. Shall we soak in the tub in a little while?

He nodded, "I'd like that."

******

The two weeks that followed were some of the most relaxed and carefree of your life, you enjoyed the hot springs and the forest between laying in bed and eating whatever the innkeeper brought.

"You ready to help home dearest?" You nodded, "I miss our little ones." He laughed, "me too, I'm really worried about what my brothers have taught them during our time away." You giggled and nuzzled into his arms, "they probably learnt to call you a horse ass." He shook his head and climbed into the carriage, helping you up with his arm strength alone.

You buried yourself into his side, "wake me up when we pass the mountains." He nodded, "of course, we have much to do when we get home. I love you."

You squeezed his hand as he placed it in yours, "I love you too."

Fin

Thoughts, feeling? Please leave whatever feedback takes your fancy.

[fourteenfifteen]

@blaseballzinejam ended a couple days ago, so i’m going to start posting my individual pieces !! this was written for the 24 hour s24 speed zine, the end. this zine was super fun to contribute to, make sure to go check out the whole thing!

content warnings for death and extensive discussion of human remains !!

~

Even after the Fridays are well and truly dead, after there’s no more denying it, it takes a while for the game to get back up going. It’s not because they don’t want to play. They don’t, of course, but that’s never mattered before. No, the ash is the issue.

The actual incineration whips dirt up into the air, hot and spinning, mixing with what’s left of the dead. The idea of breathing it in makes Pedro’s stomach turn, but there’s nothing else to breathe. So he does it. Trying not to think about what or who is coating his lungs. He coughs and coughs and coughs, like his body itself is trying to keep it away.

The massive clouds of ash and dirt block out the near-empty stands, closing them in like blackout curtains. Hell, he can barely see first base from the dugout. By the time it’s cleared up enough for a person to pitch, the white pinstripes on the Crabs’ jerseys are barely visible. The Queens, because that’s who they are, apparently, have light colored jerseys that are now mostly grey and brown. They’re better off than the Oxford Paws, Pedro thinks - in the highlights from day 3, the Mints’ remains had left their jerseys a grimy dark yellow, like a swimming pool with a broken filter.

When they start back up again, Pedro is playing catcher. When a Queens playet slides into home plate to score, ve kicks up a massive cloud of ash around the two of them, and for a split second things are so dark that Pedro expects another team to die.

~

The ash comes off in flakes as Pedro shambles through the locker room. It streams off of him in the shower. It isn’t until he’s been standing there staring at the tiles for minutes on end that the water runs clean.

Once he’s out, Pedro looks in the mirror to find black still staining his teeth, his tongue, the corners of his eyes. The screws on his glasses, even, are dark with it, something he doesn’t expect to go away.

The rest of it does, eventually. The stains don’t lift all the way out of the uniform he was wearing, but he has others, and doesn’t particularly want to wear that one anyway. Retiring it feels like the thing to do.

But the cough stays. Pedro can’t seem to shake it. The world shakes apart, and he coughs, until the inside elbows of all his shirts are grey.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Cat Got Your Tongue

Chapter One

Master List /  Series Master List

A/N: This series is set in the same world as Bare In The Woods (a one-shot were-bear Henry Cavill story). This series will be cross posted between Tumblr and AO3. As Tumblr has no way of preventing minors from reading the smutty bits (and there will be smutty bits) those chapters will only be available on AO3.

My archive work is available to Register Users Only. This means Yes, You Must Have An Account with Archive to read my work. If you'd like more information on how to acquire your Free archive account, please see this post. All you need is an email address to sign up. That's it. Just do it people.

Read on AO3 here!

Summary: The community of Salvation holds many secrets, not the least of which is the diversity of were-folk who call it home. Ember Porosha is one resident for who Salvation isn't just the town's name but her saving grace. After outrunning her past, she's resigned herself to playing surrogate to everyone else's children and never having her own. A mate was not in her future, and she was learning to live with that. Until he walked through the door of The Last Book and Brew.

Thomas Loki Hiddleston wasn't going to be in town long. Here for the naming of Henry and his wife's baby girl and presentation to the weres of Salvation, he planned only to stay a few days. A small town like this could never offer him the outlet he needed for his cat's dark desires, nor could he hide what he was for long. His nature would eventually need an outlet and Salvation held nothing for him. Or so he thought. One wiff of Ember's unique scent and he knew he'd found a long thought lost to him future.

But when she doesn't fall at his feet, and proves more stubborn than a mule, can he resit taking her in hand long enough to win her heart? Or will the bond between true mates not be enough to tame this wild hellcat.

Series warnings: Were-Creatures, Cats, Bears, Smut, Shameless Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Dom/sub, Blood, Blood Kink, this one could (will) get kinky

***

When the sleek black car drove through town, Ember gave it only a passing glance. It was odd, sure, but anyone who drove a Jag was so far out of her league they were playing on a different ball diamond altogether. The car screamed money, something she cared little about.

Sure she needed it, everyone did, but Ember was content with what she had, and in this sleepy town cradled lovingly between the mountains, she didn't need much. She had her sweet yellow cottage, her bookstore, and a community of friends when she desired company. And now, with the snow falling thick on the ground, she would have another singular pleasure. 

Ember's little snow leopard heart leapt at the thought of running through the high passes and sliding down the long slopes, her wide paws keeping her above the snowpack instead of sinking in while her thick coat kept out the cold. It had been too long since she'd last played in her were form, and was looking forward to going out to the ranger station in a few days to visit with Henry, his wife, and their little cub. 

The sweet baby girl already had Henry wrapped firmly around her finger, and Ember couldn't help but laugh at the goofy smile that perpetually graced his face when he looked at his family. 

If a pang of jealousy jabbed her heart, Ember didn't let it show. She'd resigned herself to a lonely life a long time ago. 

The bell over the door of her little shop gave a merry jingle, and she placed the last of the new James Patterson novels on the shelf before dusting off her hands and stepping out from behind the bookshelves to smile at Lorraine, the town's most gossipy raven.

If she was fluttering into The Last Book and Brew, then Ember was about to hear an earful.

***

Tom swept into the charming inn and forced himself to smile at the woman behind the desk. He'd spent a miserable six hours on the road, driven through a blizzard, and killed his cellphone when he'd dropped it in an icy puddle two hours prior as he'd filled the car with petrol. But there was no alternate way to get to Salvation, buried deep in the mountains, except to drive. 

And Salvation was where he needed to be. 

His old friend, Henry, was celebrating the birth of his first cub, and Tom dropped everything to come and see the little darling Henry was blessed with. And to meet the woman who'd tamed the giant bear after all this time. Sadly, he'd been unable to attend their wedding, but he refused to miss the welcoming of a new were into the community, whether he belonged to the Salvation clan or not.

That didn't mean he wouldn't give Hen the gears for choosing to live in some backwater nowhere even if it was beautiful here. 

Still, Tom preferred the city for its indulgences and entertainments. No, he couldn't fall on all fours and run through the concrete jungle he called home, but he'd long come to terms with his destiny. It wasn't as if there was a panther out there waiting to run under the moonlight with him. 

He was going to be a lone cat, a bachelor. He'd resigned himself to it, for no matter what anyone said, no one - were or human - had ever submitted wholly to his dark desires and chosen to stay in his possession afterward. They were all far too soft for his liking, ending in no more than a one-and-done.

At least, he could stalk the clubs and play with those unaware of his darkest needs and wants in the city. Tom was not a Dom to be denied, and those who gave in to the allure of his pretty face soon learned all about the devil underneath his Gucci suit.

"Hello, darling," he purred to the desk clerk. "Thomas Loki Hiddleston, checking in. I believe I have a reservation."

She blushed to the roots of her hair, sputtered, and nodded. "Of-of course, sir. If-if you'll sign a few things and put your card on file, I can get you situated on your back- In your room!" she corrected, staring at her hands. 

Tom couldn't hide his smile, but he swallowed his laughter. It was always the same. The sweet little birds flocked to him, but they had no idea a predator was stalking them.

He went through the incidentals, signed her documents, collected his key and listened intently when she told him about the room, breakfast, the restaurant, spa, and pool. His ears perked up at the last. He did enjoy a refreshing swim. 

"And if you fancy something other than regular coffee or black tea, there is The Last Book and Brew just down the street. Ember makes the best scones and tea."

"Does she now?" he murmured, eyeing Irene - her name on a little plaque pinned to her chest - as she handed him back his credit card. "Perhaps I'll check in on it. A cuppa does sound delightful." The drive had been long, and tea might be just the pick-up he needed before calling round to Henry's. 

He nodded to Irene and headed for the stairs instead of the elevator. Three floors were nothing for his long legs, the exertion minimal, as he hiked to the third floor and down to the end where he fit the old-fashioned key into the antique lock and pushed open the door. 

Tom was pleasantly surprised to find a mixture of well-kept antiques and modern furnishings decorating the space. While the bed and mattress were new and covered with clean, white duvet and sheets, the dresser - upon which sat a television - was a heavy mahogany buffet with curved Queen Anne legs. The bathroom was a revolution of modern plumbing though a cast iron tub stood on clawed feet beside a glass shower big enough for two. Gilt framed mirrors hung above dual vanities into which water poured from brushed gold fixtures. 

It was all very romantic with its old-world charm though the inn was showing its age. Wallpaper lifted at the edges, millwork was chipped and rubbed in places, and a few of the lovely old tiles on the floor in the bathroom were cracked. But with the likely age of the building, it wasn't so surprising. If the gorgeous stone building weren't at minimum a century, he would eat his scarf. 

She could be an absolute beauty with effort and enough money. Yes, he would be comfortable here for a time. The Salvation Inn would suit him.

Tom made his way to the windows that looked out on Salvation's main street. The road was a mess of dirty snow, sanded and salted for ease of travel, but the thick white flakes floating down turned the quaint replica gas street lights into white-topped monuments of winter. Storefronts glowed with welcoming light, still running their Autumn displays, creeping toward American Thanksgiving. The commercialization of Christmas had yet to appear, giving everything a cheerful, colourful cast he found pleasing to his senses. 

Cars moved without hurry, mimicking the people coming and going about their business. Everyone was bundled up, but no one seemed to mind the cold and the snow. To be expected, he supposed. They lived in the mountains where snow fell early and lasted late. 

As his gaze traversed the lane, his attention landed on The Last Book and Brew and caused him to tilt his head, intrigued. Unlike the other traditional storefronts with their brick faces and colourful awnings, gold filigree writing on wooden signs, the little bookstore had a distinctly different feel to it. 

The door, window frames, and brickwork that accented the front of the building were painted a shiny, deep black. There was no awning but three stunning lanterns hung above the windows on wrought iron arms, beautifully curved like the elegant lines of a woman's body. A sign in the same black iron hung perpendicular to the door. Shaped like a shield or some family crest, the words The Last Book and Brew glowed crimson outlined in gold, while a raven of the same black iron sat guard, casting judgement on all who entered. Red velvet mounded in the windows, lovingly cradling the displayed books like sacrificial offerings. 

Someone knew what they were doing, for that was the sexiest storefront Tom had ever seen.

Utterly enchanted and desperate to see if the interior matched the exterior, he left his leather valise unpacked on the bed, pocketed his key, and headed for the door.

Irene looked up as he passed her, but Tom paid the clerk little mind. He was on a mission, a hunt now, needing to discover the answer to the mystery of just who this Ember of Last Book and Brew was that she could create with such aplomb a store so alluring. 

There was no wind when he trotted down the inn's exterior stairs and out into the snowfall. Traffic was light, so he crossed mid-street, avoiding puddles and snowbanks in an attempt to keep the Italian leather of his shoes dry while large flakes of falling snow collected in his dark ginger locks. He reached the door and admired the ornate handle before opening the door into another world. 

Tom stepped inside and stared in amazement. He'd never thought a bookstore could be moody, but this one certainly was. The floors were highly polished ebony wood that led into dark railings which spiralled past the sunken first-floor cafe up a short flight of stairs toward the bookstore beyond. 

He admired the cobblestone floor in the cafe, again shiny with polish, sealed he suspected to make cleanup easier. Upon them sat a virtual Mad Hatter's Tea Party of chairs, all shapes and sizes separated by wrought iron tables topped with glass. And though the chairs were unique in shape, they matched for colour, upholstered as they were in the blood-red and black brocade that turned them into a sexy indulgence he prayed were as comfortable as they looked. 

And hung above it all, like a lady's magnificent fascinator, was a chandelier worthy of the name. Clearly electric, it appeared to drip ropes of black jewels and crystals as long as his palm, lit by three dozen candles that flickered with faux flames. It was spectacular.

Beyond, the cafe counter, like a walnut dream, appeared to be a repurposed and rehabbed saloon bar where elegant scrollwork on a pristine chalkboard announced the daily specials. He could see the cakes and pastries in their glass case, and while his stomach rumbled to remind him of the last meal he'd eaten, Tom was too enthralled with the decadence of the store to allow himself to be led by his nose when a small sign at the foot of the stairs requested no food past that point. 

Another small sign asked him to wipe his feet, which he did without thought, before heading up the short but wide curved stairwell to the second floor into the fantasy world of someone's most magnificent mind. 

He felt guided by the hand of a fae as he wound his way through ebony bookcases over hardwood floors, beneath more hanging lanterns and delicate chandeliers. The soft white of all the lights allowed him to read titles and leaf through pages without feeling as if the overhead lights would eventually dry out his eyes or buzz their annoyance through his brain. Every so often, he came upon stands of lightly scented candles, or soaps, or lotions made with all-natural products and tingling with the lightest touch of were-magic, causing Tom to look at the store with deeper senses. 

The corners and cardinal points of the space had crystal wards, he realized, and the soft pulse of benevolent magic left him at ease. Whoever this Ember was, she bid all who came to her sanctuary welcome. 

Even more intrigued than before, Tom found his way toward the counter where voices spoke in hushed tones, intent on finding the owner and congratulating her on the sensual, slightly erotic nature of her store. It left him breathless in a way that was hard for him to come by, and yet even as it pulled at his dark, seductive nature, he knew a family could come into such a place and find it magical, like falling into the rabbit hole of a dark Alice fantasy.

"That's nice, Lorraine, but I don't think Henry would approve of you gossiping about his friend."

Tom stopped in his tracks. Warm brandy and velvet bled over his senses, stroking straight through him to the soul of his cat. The panther purred and preened, wanting the owner of that voice to pet him and whisper words of seduction in his ear. 

"Poppycock! Some big-city fella isn't going to care if we mountain folk talk about him."

Ugh, raven. He'd know that grating tone anywhere.

"Besides, he's some fancy lawyer or something," the raven, Lorraine, continued. "I'm sure he's used to people talking about him."

"It is still impolite."

Tom shivered, eyes half-lidding. He had to roll his head, stretching his neck to keep from sprouting fur. What he wouldn't give for one night with the owner of that voice. 

Never one to hide in the face of scrutiny, Tom glided out from behind the bookshelf and smiled at the two women. "Actually, I run hotels."

The raven eeped and jumped, spinning to face him. She was older than he'd suspected, her dark hair thoroughly saturated with grey though her eyes remained clear brown orbs. The other, oh, the other, he could not help but stare.

Her face was the kind that would make angels weep with sharp, classic features, high cheekbones and a pointed chin like a sweet little fox. Her big eyes widened in surprise, showing off the shocking green, so pale and light they were almost neon when the light caught them. The heavy fall of thick curls that slipped from her shoulder left his mouth dry with the desire to sink his fingers into the mass that started black at the root and faded into tones of silver and dark grey, hinting at patterns like small rosettes. 

A sleek, lithe body lovingly caressed by a sweater of raspberry wool and leggings of black knit glided out from behind the cash desk, her steps silent in small silver ballet flats. "Mr. Hiddleston?"

"Indeed," he purred, accepting her hand when she offered it. He captured it between both of his rather than shaking it as presented and held it lightly. "Thomas Loki Hiddleston, at your service, love. My friends call me Tom."

"Ember Porosha. Welcome to Salvation and The Last Book and Brew." She tilted her head, causing all that lovely hair to slide to the opposite shoulder. "Henry speaks highly of you."

"Mm," he chuckled, adjusting his grip to lightly press his thumb into the palm of her hand as he brought her knuckles to his lips. "Brags, does he?"

"Terribly," she agreed with a smile.

Tom smirked and pressed his lips to her skin. He inhaled and went rigid. That scent, the sweet smell of pine and snow somehow laced with the delicate notes of summer dreams, drowned him, flooding his lungs until he was sure he would never be able to breathe again without breathing in Ember's delectable fragrance. 

She tried to retrieve her hand. Tom growled, low and deep, more a purr than a reprimand, and opened eyes he knew would glow green with his cat. 

"Well, hello, pet," he smiled. "It seems I was wrong." He wasn't destined to be alone after all.

Sharp claws latched into his hands. "I've no desire to start anything with you, true mate or not."

He dropped her hands and brought his to his mouth to catch the blood seeping from the minor wounds. "We will see about that."

She hissed at him. 

Tom threw his head back and laughed before gliding into her personal space and threading his fingers into her hair. "Spit all you like, little kitten. I always get what I want."

"I think it's time you left, Mr. Hiddleston," Ember growled, her hand on his chest to keep him at bay. 

"Tea first," he smirked. "I'm gagging for a cuppa. Haven't had a decent one all day!" He stroked the silvery strands before letting them fall through his fingers. "Is your coat just as soft, Kitten?"

She glared daggers at him. "Leave."

He chuckled but stepped back, practically able to see her tail flick in anger. "Until later then, Ember."

***

He turned on his heels and sauntered away, leaving her seething behind him. How dare he. How dare he! How dare he assume such liberties when they'd only just met. When it was clear he was only passing through and would leave nothing but devastation in his wake.

"How dare he!" she hissed and stormed toward the back of the store to her office to calm down, forgetting Lorraine was still there.

Ember didn't slam the door, knowing he was still in the store, and she'd be damned before she gave him that much power over her. She would not be brought to heel like some… some… Kitten!

She growled a low sound and clenched her fists, determined to get control of herself and that snow leopard rolling like a damn hussy inside her.

She'd smelt him the moment he'd stepped beyond the books—dark spice and leather, mandarin and rosewood, with notes of cinnamon and vanilla. Ember's mouth watered with the desire to taste his skin and see if he tasted as good as he smelled.

"No," she said firmly. Her cat scoffed. "He won't stay here. He's a big city panther, and we will never go back." She was determined to live alone, be alone because she was safer that way.

Salvation was, well, their salvation. When she was most desperate for a new start and a place to hide from her past, Salvation was there with open arms, and an established were community.

Her cat settled down with the reminder and left her alone to pick up the phone.

Ember dialed the number by heart and waited for them to answer. "Hey, Henry, it's Ember. About tonight. Something has come up… I'm… not going to make it."

Next Chapter

[shyvioletcat]

I have no idea if you’ve seen NCIS: LA, but they have an episode just like your fic Treacherous of two agents posing as a married couple in the suburbs!! It’s season 3 episode 22 for reference!

Prompt based on that: A comes home and sees blood, panics and follows the trail thinking B has been hurt/killed. Carefully pushes the door open and finds A has simply cut their foot and didn’t hear B

I have watched some and I did go looking for this episode but came up bust in my search. It could have provided some good inspiration I’m sure. We all love a good fake relationship.

*EDIT: TAGLIST DONE. Sorry if you’ve already seen it and are getting the notification.*

Treacherous Masterlist

~~~~~

Grabbing the shopping bags out of the boot of the car Rowan swept his foot under it to activate the automatic close, all the while suppressing a yawn. He was dead tired. Aelin had gotten her revenge after the pen incident, setting an alarm clock in his room to wake him up at exactly 3:47. The damned thing hadn’t been within reach so he had to get out of bed to turn it off. And from copious missions together Aelin knew once he was up, he was up so he’d hadn’t bothered to try and get back to sleep. Knowing her she might have set others up in the room anyway, even if he had tried to sleep again paranoia would have kept him awake. All the while she slept blissfully across the hall.

Being just the two of them in the house they hadn’t bothered to keep up the bed sharing part of the charade. They slept in separate rooms and thank the gods for that. If he didn’t have that space to himself he might have never been able to get away from her and have some quiet. Aelin seemed to fill every room she was in and it was suffocating for him… most of the time. She had a way with people he had admired at times, it was what made her such a good agent, especially when undercover. Not that he would ever tell her any of that. No need to inflate her already insufferable ego.

When he had grumpily asked her over his third cup of coffee why she’d chosen 3:47 exactly she’d smiled at him, bright and cheery as ever after sleeping in until 8 o’clock, and alluded to some lockeroom talk she’d heard about certain measurements—in millimetres. When he had rolled his eyes she had gone on to clarify she was talking about 30 and not just 3 he’d promptly left the room, well and truly done with her immaturity. Her laughter had chased him out.

Shifting the shopping bags so he could open the back door, Rowan entered the kitchen expecting to find Aelin in there preparing the food for the ridiculous party tomorrow while listening to some obnoxious music very loudly just to piss him off. But she wasn’t, in fact the house was silent.

“Aelin,” he called, stepping around the length of the counter.

That was when he saw the blood.

Rowan dropped the bags, things crushing on impact. The blood pooled in one spot, then splatters made a path across the tiles. He didn’t have a gun on him, but there were enough stashed around the house and he found one in a low kitchen drawer. It was pointed and ready in moments and Rowan made sure he didn’t disturb the blood on the linoleum floor.

“Aelin,” he called again. “Agent Galathynius.”

Still silence. He followed the trail of blood towards the small bathroom that was on the bottom level, his heart pounding in his ears. There wasn’t enough that the situation looked dire, but the assailant may have dragged her off to another location, hidden away from windows. Why hadn’t the team been alerted to anything? Where was the back-up? Panic started to fill him, but his training kept it under control. If something had happened to Aelin…

He shook his head to shake out the thought. She was a perfectly capable agent, one of the best. Rowan was overreacting and he needed to calm down. A deep breath in and he nudged the door, when there was no reaction he kicked it open, gun ready. Eyes darting around the room, his gun dropped to the side when he took in the scene before him.

Aelin was seated on the floor, holding wads of toilet paper on a wound on her foot, wincing from what he gathered to be pain. She hadn’t noticed his entrance and was still focused on her foot.

“Aelin,” Rowan said, but got no response, so he tried a little louder. “Aelin.”

She jumped looking up at him. “Why do you have a gun?”

“Did you not hear me calling out?” Rowan asked, putting the safety back on the gun.

Aelin took small earbuds out of her ears. “What?”

Rowan rubbed a hand over his face, panic turned to exasperation. “I called out to you and you didn’t answer.”

“Podcast,” she held up her earbuds in explanation. “But the gun?” Aelin then asked him, her attention going back to her foot.

“The blood trail…” he said but didn’t elaborate.

Aelin straightened where she sat and looked up at him, then laughed. “Did you think I’d been murdered in the bathtub?”

Rowan didn’t answer her question. “Would you mind telling me what happened exactly?”

Aelin sighed. “I was trying to cook and I knocked a knife off the counter and my hands were full so I couldn’t catch it. It nicked my foot and now here we are.”

“Okay,” Rowan said, the adrenaline finally settling and he knelt down to assess the injury.

“What are you doing?” Aelin brows were furrowed in confusion.

“Inspecting the cut, you can’t get at it from the right angle,” Rowan said, turning her foot and earning a hiss.

“I can do it myself,” Aelin said and tried to pull her foot away but Rowan held firm. She relented with an over dramatic sigh and leaned her back on the bathtub.

Aelin had already got down what he needed, so he cleaned the cut up and foot, putting a large bandaid on it to stop the bleeding. “There,” Rowan said succinctly, brushing a thumb unconsciously along Aelin’s arch before letting go, making her suppress a laugh. She was ticklish.

“Hmm,” Aelin said, looking at him curiously.

“What?” Rowan asked, standing and washing his hands. When he turned around to dry his hands on a towel she was still looking at him.

“Careful Whitethorn, someone might think you were concerned for my well-being if they found out about this.”

“Not likely,” Rowan scoffed. “It was the paperwork I was concerned about.”

Aelin snorted and walked past him, Rowan taking a moment before he followed. There had been a moment when… He shook his head. Concern for a partner was only natural, no matter the feelings of enmity between them. The two of them couldn’t stand each other, but that didn’t mean he wanted her hurt or dead. Rowan left the bathroom, headed for the kitchen to put away the groceries when he heard a frustrated exclamation.

“Are you serious, Rowan?”

Any concern he had felt evaporated at Aelin’s tone. Entering the kitchen he found her holding a carton of eggs, leaking yellow and clear goop. They must have cracked when he dropped the bags in his panic at the blood.

“You need to go get more,” she told him, dropping the ruined eggs in the trash.

“No, I am not,” Rowan groaned. He was tired, he didn’t want to take another trip to the grocery store across town.

“Oh, you are. I needed those eggs for the barbecue tomorrow, so because of your overreaction over a little bit of blood I am now eggless,” Aelin explained. There was no answer from him as Aelin unrolled some paper towel to clean up both egg and blood. “Off you go.”

Too tired to fight anymore Rowan just grabbed his keys and left to get more precious eggs.

~~~~~

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[heyyyharry]

Deep End - Chapter 4: Royal Ball

…in which Ezi causes trouble at the Styles' manor.

Word count: 6.1k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES, ASSAULT.

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: Please let me know what you think. I need feedback to feel motivated. Also, what do you expect to happen in the next chapter?

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When Harry came to the guest room this morning and couldn’t find Ezi, he had hoped that something had happened overnight, and she’d magically returned to where she’d come from, and he, at last, could have his old life back. But no. He was immensely disappointed to find her sitting cross-legged on the edge of his pool, just staring blankly at the water like she was in a sad music video. What did he expect? It wasn’t like she could grow some wings to fly all the way home.

“Good morning!”

Ezi flinched at the sound of his voice. She pulled her feet out of the water and frantically stood up as Harry approached.

He held out his hand to ask her to stay. “It’s okay. You can use the pool. I rarely go swimming anyway.”

Ezi’s brows furrowed slightly as she tucked a strand behind her ear and stared anxiously at the blue water. “How can you swim in this pond? It smells funny.”

“It’s not a pond. It’s a swimming pool. There’s chemicals in it; that’s why it smells like that.”

Ezi cocked her head, seemingly confused. “Why you gotta make your own pond and put chemicals in it? Why do humans have to make their own versions of everything that’s already available in nature?”

“It’s cleaner and safer to swim in pools,” Harry pointed out.

Ezi couldn’t look more offended by his remark. “The ocean was clean before you trashed it with your chemicals.”

“I didn’t trash the ocean,” Harry corrected, pointing to his chest. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not responsible for environmental pollution?”

Ezi folded her arms and glared at him. “Why are you afraid of the ocean?”

“You’re literally a killing machine.”

“You people make machines that shoot fire and blow up each other’s ships, and yet we’re the killing machines.”

“Well, the ocean is scary anyway. It’s deep and dark.”

“It’s literally water,” argued Ezi. “Water is the driving force of all nature, and you’re afraid of it.”

“Forget it.” Harry exhaled as he tossed his hands in the air. “I can never win an argument with you.”

“Good,” Ezi said with a slight shrug.

“Anyway.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Come inside for breakfast. I have something to discuss with you while you eat.”

“Your maid brought you something this morning,” Ezi said when Harry was about to walk away.

Slowly, he turned back to face her with his eyebrows raised. “Who?”

“Your maid,” she said with a straight face. “The girl with green hair. I think she brought you some clothes and put them in the room next to mine.”

“That’s Amy, my assistant!” cried Harry as he gripped his own hair. “You two didn’t have a conversation, right? Please tell me you didn’t call her a maid to her face!”

Ezi looked rather amused when she saw how distressed Harry was. How could she be smiling? He wouldn’t be the only one who’d be in trouble if her identity was revealed. Fuck that. What if the government found out that he was keeping her here and locked him up, too? Was it a crime to keep a mythical creature in your house? Could he be executed for that?

“No,” Ezi calmly said while Harry could feel the blood draining from his face. “She just brought you some clothes and left. Though I could barely see her face, she didn’t seem very friendly.”

Harry pressed a palm to his chest, feeling his heart thundering as he let out a sigh of half-formed relief. Once he’d regained his composure, he told Ezi, “Amy is friendly to everyone. Maybe it’s just you.”

Ezi didn’t look at all bothered by that. She shrugged. “I’m not here to make friends. I don’t care if Amy likes me.”

Harry found it funny that one moment she could look and talk like a human girl with human feelings, and the next she acted as cold as the ocean she’d come from. But she was right. They weren’t friends, and there was no reason for them to be more than just civilised to one another.

“You sure you didn’t talk to Amy?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Good,” Harry nodded. “Come inside. The food’s getting cold.”

It seemed like Ezi got hungry very quickly. She finished the hard scrambled eggs Harry had made for her and even asked him for more. Harry didn’t mind feeding her. It was better to keep her full. After all, she had shown him her predator side, and he’d prefer to never see it again.

“So what’s something you want to tell me?” she asked with her mouth full while stuffing it more with another big bite.

Chilli was sitting at Ezi’s feet, staring up at her as a way of asking for a taste, but Ezi just ignored the cat and continued to enjoy her breakfast.

Harry knitted his hands on the table and straightened his back as he began, “Well, I actually wanted to ask you for a favour.”

Ezi stopped chewing immediately. She swallowed hard, her face contorted. “I’m not doing you a favour.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“But I already know that I don’t want to do it.”

“Of course you want to do it.”

“No, I don’t!”

Harry sucked in a breath and held up a finger to stop her from interrupting him again. “I promise you’ll like this. Just hear me out.”

Ezi folded her arms in front of her chest and pouted like an angry little girl as she sank into her chair.

Harry’s lips curled into a smile. “You like those Disney movies, right?”

Ezi nodded, and Harry watched in content as the line between her brows eased.

“Good. So what if I tell you that you can be a Disney princess for one night.”

“What do you mean?” Ezi frowned again as she sat up straight. “Are you messing with me?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I’m being dead serious. I’ll take you to a ball.”

“A ball?”

“Yeah. I’m invited to a royal ball that’s held in a real ballroom, like the one in Beauty and the Beast.”

He would’ve said Cinderella, but she hadn’t watched it yet. It would’ve been a better reference. Still, Ezi’s eyes lit up when she heard about the ball. “Like...in a castle?”

“Y-Yeah.” Harry worked up a bright smile as he nodded fast. “A castle.” To be fair, his mother’s manor was as huge as a castle. It was twice the size of his house, so that’d be more than enough to convince the naive siren.

“Do I get to wear a pretty dress?”

“Yeah. Who do you think the clothes Amy brought here are for?”

The realisation washed over Ezi’s face, and her mouth fell open in shock as she slammed her hands on the table, rattling the silverware and startling Chilli. “You’re not messing with me?”

“No.”

She bit her lip and arched an eyebrow. “What’s the favour then?”

“That’s the favour -- You going to the ball with me,” Harry said. “It’s tomorrow night.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing, to be honest,” Harry said with a weak shrug. “Maybe getting back in my mother’s good graces. She’s hosting the ball, and so many people are invited.”

“Is she the Queen?”

“No, but she thinks she is.”

“So she’s like my sister Koa.”

Harry chuckled at how serious Ezi looked when she said that. “Well, maybe not as bad as your sister. My mother loves me.”

Ezi pursed her lips as she focused on fidgeting with the fork in her hand. Harry leaned forward on the table. “So?” he asked. “Can you help me?”

Ezi blew out her cheeks as she locked eyes with him again. “Fine,” she said. “Not because I want to help you, though. I just want to go to a ball.”

“Good enough for me.” Harry smiled.

While Ezi continued eating, Harry gave her a few rules that she would have to follow when they arrived at his family’s event. He could not risk having her interact with anyone without his supervision. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he heard that she’d met his assistant when he wasn’t there. He was sure that Amy had only assumed Ezi was another girl Harry regularly hooked up with. Money didn’t really matter to him, so he usually spoiled his friends and the girls he fucked. However, he couldn’t risk having anyone find out that Ezi was actually living here.

When Ezi finished eating, Harry went upstairs to get the bath ready. He’d have to figure out a way to give Ezi a bath without having to touch her. How would she feel about hot water, though? His cat Chilli always left at least one or two scratches on his legs and his shirt whenever he tried to give her a bath. He could imagine Ezi doing the same.

“Hey.”

Harry whipped his head to the bathroom door and found Ezi standing there in his joggers and Mickey Mouse t-shirt that flowed down to her thighs. He must admit that she looked cute when she wasn’t frowning or roasting him. If only she’d lost her voice like Ariel did in the movie.

“Stop staring at me, human!”

Exactly his point.

Sighing, Harry got up from the edge of the bathtub. “We’ll let the water run,” he told her. “In the meantime, I’ll show you your new clothes.”

Ezi said nothing and followed him down the hall to his walk-in closet. It was actually a room with big windows, a shiny tiled floor, and white-cushioned sofas. Harry took a deep breath of the comforting perfumed air only to see Ezi covering her mouth and nose with her palm.

“It smells weird in here,” she complained.

“Just like living with my mum,” Harry whispered to himself. To her, he said, “Speaking of smells.”

Ezi looked horrified as Harry leaned in and started sniffing her.

“Why don’t you smell?” he asked, stepping back.

Her eyes went wide. “Am I supposed to?”

“Well, yeah.” He nodded. “You literally came from the ocean. No offence but...you’re supposed to smell fishy.”

“Do humans say no offence before they offend you?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Or maybe I’m just blunt because I’m British. Anyway,” Harry sucked in a breath, “it’s weird that you don’t smell. You don’t have a smell at all. When you first came on land, I could still smell a bit of the ocean on you, but now you don’t smell, and you haven’t showered.”

Ezi shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like I could ask my mother why her curse didn’t give me a smell.”

“True.” Harry sighed. “Anyway. That’s good. Don’t want no fishy-smelling girl walking around my house.”

“I will scoop out your eyeballs right now.”

“Just kidding.” Harry chuckled. “But please don’t do that.”

“I’ll try.” Ezi put her hands on her hips and swept her eyes around the room. “Why do you have so many clothes?”

“They make me look good. I’m a public figure, so I care about my appearance.”

“Maybe you should focus on fixing what’s inside you and not your appearance.”

“I like you better when you don’t talk,” Harry said, then brushed past her to grab the Chanel shopping bag Amy had left on the white marble counter. He pulled out a sparkling silver slip dress and held it up to show Ezi. “This is for you. It comes with a pair of high heels. I’ll definitely have to teach you to walk in them, but baby steps.”

Ezi took the dress with both hands and was being as careful as possible as if she was afraid she might rip it. Although she didn’t let it show, he could make out the excitement in the way her eyes twinkled. He’d made sure to ask for a dress that looked similar to the one Ariel had worn in The Little Mermaid when she’d come from the ocean.

“Before you try this on,” he said when Ezi lifted her bright blue eyes up to him. “Repeat what I told you earlier.”

Ezi clutched the dress to her chest and glanced up at the ceiling. A line appeared between her brows as she recited Harry’s words, “Do not talk to anyone there unless you ask me to. Never leave your side. If I have questions, ask you in private. Um...what else? Oh! Avoid your mother at all costs.”

Harry nodded. “My mother and Dawson.”

“Who’s Dawson?”

“You’ll know.” With a sigh, Harry thrust his hands into his pockets. “Now, I’ll leave you here to change. I could only guess your measurements, so if it doesn’t fit, we can have it fixed as soon as possible.”

“Measurements?” Ezi looked down at her body, confused.

Harry cleared his throat and waved his hand at her. “Just hurry up and change. Let me know when you’re done.”

“Wait!”

“What?”

With a cute little pout, she asked, “Can you put it on me?”

Harry was shocked for a second when he heard that, but then he remembered that Ezi had never worn a dress before, let alone one with so many...strings.

“Here.” He took the dress from her and tried his best to demonstrate. “So this is the front. This is the back. This string goes over your right shoulder–No, wait, your left. Wait, is it? Hold on. Fuck.”

Ezi breathed out a laugh and covered her mouth with her hands, making Harry glare at her. “Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll help you put it on.”

“Good.”

Before Harry could even say a word, Ezi pulled his oversized t-shirt that she was wearing over her head, and Harry let out the most inhuman scream as he looked away and covered his eyes. She was naked underneath his shirt. Completely naked.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted into his palm when he heard the sound of the shirt falling to the floor.

“What is it?” Ezi asked.

“Oh, God.” Harry shrugged her hand away as she tried to take his.

“Why are you being weird?” She giggled as if she wasn’t standing fully naked in front of him. “You’ve seen me without clothes, and I’ve seen you,” she said.

“Fuck. I know that.” He exhaled. “But…” Harry stopped and took a deep breath. With one hand over his eyes, he calmly told her, “You need lingerie.”

“Ooooh. I learned this word today from a movie,” Ezi said with confidence. “Laundry means–”

“No, not laundry.” Harry sighed. “Lingerie.”

“Huh?”

“Okay, you know what? Put the shirt back on. I’ll return with more clothes for you.”

“More clothes?” Ezi cried with frustration as Harry turned his back to her. He heard her put the shirt on, and she tapped him on the shoulder when she was done. “I hate being humans,” she complained, looking cross. “Clothes are so uncomfortable.”

“I know, right?” Harry chuckled and patted her on the head. He liked seeing her face scrunch up whenever he did that, because he knew that she couldn’t harm him. “Be a good siren and stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“And help me put on clothes?”

He sighed and turned away. “I will.”

“And launderey?”

The question stopped Harry at the door. He pinched his eyes shut and pressed a fist to his forehead. “Yes.” He let go of a defeated long breath. “That, too.”

.

.

.

Harry managed to find a brand new pair of underwear in his bedroom drawer. It was an embarrassing story, but he’d bought it as a gift for a girl he used to sleep with, then he found out she’d been lying to him about not having a boyfriend when she’d already been engaged. So now he just happened to have a set of new lingerie lying in his drawer.

“I don’t know if this would fit, but I’ll get you new ones tomorrow.” Harry froze in the doorway when he found his closet empty. “Chili, where’s the crazy girl?” he asked his black cat, who didn’t even bother to reply as she kept licking her little paw. Ugh, lucky for her, she was cute.

“Ezi! Where are you?!” Harry shouted as he padded down the hall.

“I’m here!” Ezi shouted back, her voice echoing from the bathroom.

It was only then that Harry remembered he’d left the water running, but when he got there, he found Ezi sitting in the bubble bath with a bright smile on her face; his joggers and Mickey Mouse t-shirt had been discarded on the floor.

He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, smiling at her.

“I love this room!” she exclaimed, gathered bubbled in her palms and blew at them.

So, Harry was wrong. She liked warm baths.

“Water was spilling out, so I turned it off and gave myself a bath,” she told him.

“You know how?”

“I saw Ariel take a bath in the movie.”

Her response made him laugh. “Wow, you learn so much from Disney films.”

Ezi folded her arms on the edge of the tub as Harry sat down on it beside her. She glanced up at him, chin on her arm. It would be a lie to say Harry didn’t feel anything watching her covered in soap and naked in his bathtub. The steam made him sweat, dampening his shirt as it stuck to his skin. He wasn’t a sex addict or anything, but he’d been so stressed out lately and hadn’t been able to find a release with his unpaid babysitting job. It wouldn’t be a problem if Ezi’s human form wasn’t so attractive.

“Stop doing that,” Ezi’s voice pulled him back to reality.

He blinked at her. “Doing what?”

“You sometimes stare at me without saying anything.”

He pressed his lips into a smirk. “Aren’t you a clever girl? Just read my mind.”

“Can’t.” She shrugged while unconsciously spreading the bubbles across the edge of the tub. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to know what’s going on in that dirty little head of yours?”

The way she’d said it without the intention of making it flirty was so funny to Harry.

“Your head is dirty and little,” he teased.

“No. Yours.”

“Yours.”

“Yours.”

“Your head can literally fit between my palms,” said Harry as he cupped the sides of her heads to demonstrate. For the first time, Ezi burst out laughing and tried to shove him off. He didn’t let go of her, and they kept pushing back and forth until Harry lost his balance and fell headfirst into the tub.

The water splashed all over. When Harry realised what had happened, he found himself kneeling in the water between Ezi’s legs. Frantically, he pushed away, but the tub was so slippery that he landed back down on his butt. Laughter crackled out of Ezi as Harry managed to escape from the sticky situation and grabbed a towel to cover himself with. Most of the water had spilt outside the tub, revealing Ezi’s soapy breasts, which gave Harry an instant boner.

He grabbed another towel and held it up and open as he ordered. “Bathtime’s over. Get out.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Ezi said, still laughing as she stood up and let him wrap the towel around her body.

Harry frowned at her playful grin. “You’re the idiot,” he said, but his face was red. “Rinse yourself. I’ll wait.”

Then he waddled out of the bathroom, quietly cursing himself.

.

.

.

To not make the same mistake, Harry taught Ezi how to put on underwear by having her put it on over her clothes first, then letting her do it herself when he wasn’t there. She was a fast learner, so it didn’t take long until she’d learned how to put on clothes and tie her shoes. He could now imagine how hard it must be for single parents to raise a kid all by themselves. He was lucky that he didn’t have to work this week and could stay home to take care of Ezi. But starting from next week, he would have to go back to his busy celebrity life, and Ezi living with him would become a bigger problem than he’d expected. He could only hope that her mother would just take her back before the following Monday. It didn’t seem possible, though. He should never have brought her to London.

Anyway, first things first.

He’d have to get through his mother’s event without anyone suspecting a thing, and then he’d try to figure out what he should do next.

This was why he didn’t want kids. At least Ezi had common sense.

“Hey, there will be so many humans tonight at the ball. What if one of them triggers me? I can’t even threaten them?”

Forget what he’d just said.

“No, you’re not allowed to threaten anyone,” he told her from outside her room and blew out his cheeks as he checked his watch. “Hurry up. Our ride is almost here.”

The door was pulled open. Ezi emerged in her sparkling silver dress with her hair in a messy bun and subtle makeup but enough to accentuate her unique features. Harry didn’t know he was gawking until she gave him a playful smack on the cheek to bring him back to Earth. He blinked and caught her big round eyes. The silvery glitter on her eyelids made the blue in her eyes stand out even more. A sudden chill rushed down his spine as he squared his shoulders and fixed his black tie. “Y-You did your hair and makeup?”

Ezi nodded enthusiastically. “The girl in the magic board taught me!”

“You were watching those makeup tutorials?”

Harry swore he had never seen her so happy. She smiled so big that her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Thank you for that board, by the way.”

“It’s an iPad. But you’re welcome.”

Yes, he’d got her an iPad so she could watch YouTube videos and play dumb games and not be all up in his business. He was a single dad now. First to Chilli. Now to Ezi.

“An iPad,” Ezi mumbled to herself. He thought it was cute how her eyebrows would furrow every time she learned a new word and tried to memorise it.

Realising that he was about to simp, Harry shook off those pleasant thoughts about the fish girl and put on a nonchalant expression as he looked down at her white ballerina flats. He’d got her a nice pair of high heels to wear with this dress, but she’d kept falling and broken a vase in the living room, so he’d given up and got her these flats instead. Well, as long as she was comfortable and still looked cute and appropriate.

“Ready?” he asked her.

She took a deep breath; determination lit up her eyes. “Ready.”

“Hold on.” He held her shoulder, took a nice look at her, then let down two strands from her bun, so they nicely framed her face. “Better.” He smiled and pinched her cheek. “You look like someone I would date.”

As expected, Ezi responded to his compliment with a frown and smacked his hand away. “Touch my face again, and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to touch anything again.” Then she shoved past him and hurried down the stairs.

.

.

.

Ezili felt ashamed.

She had been looking forward to the ball tonight. She’d been so excited that she’d stayed up to watch those...what did Harry call them again? Oh, makeup tutorials. Just to look like those human girls with sparkling eyelids. The mermaids back home would be so impressed, but her mother certainly wouldn’t. She didn’t even want to imagine her mother’s reaction to her look tonight.

Harry had pointed out that human Ezili didn’t have a smell. In an animal kingdom, the signature smell set those animals apart from the other kinds and acted as proof that they were a part of a community, that they belonged. Human Ezili not having a smell was a reminder from her mother that she was not a siren right now, but she was not human either, and so she should finish her mission as soon as possible to return to the sea and be with her kind.

Ezili could not be distracted from her mission anymore. Harry had invited her to the ball, which meant there was no competition for her at this point. She was already making progress being the only female in his radar. Tonight, she hoped the romantic atmosphere of the ball would make him fall in love with her.

With her arm around his, they ascended the red-carpeted stairs of the castle leading to the ballroom. Ezili was amazed by the guests in fancy attires and expensive decorations sparkling silver and gold. The ballroom was impressive, with crystal chandeliers spiralling down from the arching sky-blue ceiling, illuminating the glimmering walls and a floor so polished it looked like a frozen winter lake.

Harry said their names to a servant at the door, and he bowed to Harry and Ezili as if they were royalty. Ezili didn’t show it, but she enjoyed being treated like the princess she knew she was.

“Finally, someone showing respect to me,” she mumbled as they followed the other guests inside.

Harry laughed at her remark. “I respect you.”

“You don’t even respect yourself,” she said, glaring at him.

“Can you just not insult me tonight? You’re pretending to be my date.”

“What’s a date?”

“Like...lovers,” Harry said, flicking his eyes around like the prey trying to spot a predator.

She thought she should calm him down, so she squeezed his forearm and said, “Do you wanna dance?”

Harry shook his head. “No, not the time.”

Confused, Ezili’s eyes followed Harry’s worried gaze to the lady in a seaweed coloured dress that fanned out at her feet. She was beautiful, with features resembling Harry's. That must be Harry’s mother -- the host of the ball.

“Remember what I told you,” Harry said, squeezing Ezili’s cold hands. “Do not say a word to my--Mother!”

“Oh, my darling son, you came!”

Harry let go of Ezili to hug his mother. The woman pulled away and turned to Ezili with the same dimpled smile as her son’s. “Ahh, this must be Ezili,” she said, and Ezili shook her hands like how humans did in movies.

“Yes.” Harry cleared his throat as he laced his fingers with Ezili’s. “This is my date -- Ezili Hans.”

His mother smiled at him. “I was afraid you were gonna bring Niall with a wig.”

“Didn’t work the last time,” Harry said. “Never do it again.”

Harry’s mother laughed before turning back to Ezili. “It’s so nice to meet you. You may call me Mrs Styles, or Annalise. What do you think about this event?”

Ezili flicked her helpless gaze to Harry, who quickly spoke on her behalf, “She thinks it’s great. Very s-shiny.” Seeing Annalise’s smile vanished, Harry added, “Sore throat. The doctor says she has to stay silent for a week. Also, do you mind if I show her around and introduce her to the other guests?”

“Wait, but we haven’t--”

“Love you, Mum.”

Harry pecked his mother on the cheek, grabbed Ezili’s hand and pulled her with him. They finally made it outside to the garden’s fountain, where the guests were chatting in groups and sipping on wine. Harry released Ezili’s hand and exhaled through his mouth. “That was scary.”

“That was awful!” She hit him on the arm. “You almost blew our covers.”

“I know. I’m always anxious around my mum,” he said, looking distressed. “When I was little, she could always tell when I was lying.”

“Maybe you’re not a good liar.”

“Not as good as you,” he chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. “You know what? Changing plans. You’re allowed to talk, but just say simple things like ‘hello’, ‘how are you?’, ‘it’s wonderful’, bla bla.”

Ezili nodded. “Got it.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something else but suddenly froze; his eyes went wide. “Shit, that’s Aunt Beatrice.” Ezili looked over her shoulder to see a chubby late laughing with a group of people and being the loudest. “Super annoying,” Harry said. “Everyone in my family hates her.” He turned to Ezili and patted her on the shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Let me come with you.”

“Not when I’m talking to Satan. I mean, Aunt Beatrice. Just stay here and don’t talk to anyone.”

“But--”

Harry already left.

Ezili muttered curses at him under her breath. She had no choice but to sit by the fountain and wait for him to return. She saw him approaching the woman he hated with just a happy attitude as he’d had when talking to his mother. Fake. Humans were all pretentious and fake. They disgusted her. All these people.

“Hey, may I sit here?”

Ezili’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she heard the voice. She looked up and went stiff when she locked eyes with a tall handsome man. The black frame of glasses sat nicely on his high nose. His high cheekbones raised as he offered a polite smile. “Sorry. Am I bothering you?”

Ezili was thinking of what to say to him when she saw what was in his hand.

“An iPad!” she exclaimed. “I got one! Harry gave me one yesterday!”

The man looked at the iPad in his hand and chuckled. “Oh yeah, I brought it with me to read because I don’t really like these events.”

Ezili nodded fast. “I don’t, either. I’m so glad I’m not the only one.”

The man smiled again; his dark eyes twinkled with the fairy lights above their heads. “May I sit with you.”

“Sure!” Ezili hurriedly scooted over for the man to sit. Forget Harry. He’d told her never to leave his side then left her here all on her own, so who cared if she talked to one stranger? At least this one didn’t want to be here, either.

“What do you read on your iPad?” she asked him.

“I’d say books to impress you, but I’m actually reading a manga,” he said and chuckled. “Attack on Titan. Have you heard of it?”

Ezili shook her head. “Do they have something like this for The Little Mermaid?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure they have a manga for everything these days, so you might find one about mermaids, too,” the man said and put the iPad down on his lap. “What’s your name?”

“Ezili...Hans. Ezili Hans,” said Ezili as she offered her hand.

The man shook it with another warm smile. “I’m Dawson Styles.”

It took Ezili a second to recognise that name. “Harry told me not to talk to you,” she mumbled, frowning.

However, Dawson didn’t look bothered by it. “Oh, right, you came here with Harry,” he said. “He gave you an iPad, right?”

“Yeah. He’s my...date.”

“So why are you here all by yourself?”

Ezili crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “He needed to talk to that loud lady over there. He said she was evil.”

Dawson leaned forward to look past her, and when he spotted Harry with his aunt, his mouth curled slightly. “Yup, that lady is scary. We’re all scared of her.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah, she’s my mum.”

Ezili flinched, her eyes shot open. “Oh...sorry.”

Dawson just laughed. “Well, Harry wasn’t wrong. My mother could be scary sometimes.”

“All mothers are,” muttered Ezili, but she wasn’t sure if Dawson had heard her.

“You’re from the States?” he asked.

She blinked. “What?”

“Your accent.”

“Oh. Y-Yeah.”

“How long have you been in London?”

“Just three days.”

“How do you like it?”

“It’s...grey.”

The answer made Dawson cackle. “Yeah, it is.” He lowered his head and adjusted his glasses. “Bet it’s way more sunnier where you’re from.”

Ezili lifted her shoulders. “I don’t like the sun that much either, so it’s all good.”

Dawson nodded. They sat in silence for two seconds, then he said, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, not knowing what else to respond.

“How did you know Harry?”

Ezili was about to answer when she realised that Harry hadn’t taught her what to answer for this question. He’d probably assumed that they would be together all night, so he wouldn’t have to prepare her to lie about such basic information. Helplessly, she looked back to find Harry, but he wasn’t there anymore. Both he and Dawson’s mother had disappeared.

Ezili jumped to her feet. “Sorry, I have to go. It was nice talking to you, Dawson.” Without paying him a second look, she ran off to look for Harry.

He couldn’t have abandoned her, right? At least not here at his family’s ball. But how could she be so sure? She’d witnessed him being courteous to his enemy. That man could not be trusted.

Why were there so many people?

Where was she?

Ezili was too busy cursing Harry in her head that she hadn’t paid attention to where she was going. Now she found herself standing in an empty hall. She could hear the muffled sound of the ballroom behind her, so she intended to return to it.

“Hey, baby,” said a blond-haired man she ran into at a turn. She tried to sidestep him, but he was in her way. She blocked her nose with a finger and took a step back to keep a distance from him. He smelled funny. Why were his eyes red?

“H-Have you seen Harry?” she asked the man with the buzzcut. “Tall. Curly hair. Walks and talks slowly. Acts like he’s better than you when he’s not.”

“Harry?” The man snorted, his eyelids fluttered as if he might pass out any moment. He put a hand on the wall to keep his balance. “Damn, that motherfucker always lands the hotties.”

Ezili guessed that this man was not in his right mind to tell her where Harry was, so she pushed him aside to go. Suddenly, he caught her by the wrist and yanked her into him. “Hey, where are you going, baby?”

“Let me go!” she screamed and tried to shove him off. It seemed like all of her strength had disappeared with her tail. She felt helpless against this man. He managed to take both her wrists and pinned them above her head and her against the wall.

“Leave Harry,” he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and foul-smelling. She felt like she might throw up. “He’s trash anyway. The rat of the family. Can’t believe he’s getting all this when his mother dies.”

Ezili was trapped between the man’s stinky body and the wall. She knew she’d promised Harry not to attack anyone tonight, but she needed to fight for herself. Without hesitation, her teeth went straight for the man’s neck. He screamed and jumped back, losing his balance and dropping to the floor. Ezili could taste blood on her tongue as she licked her lip and gazed down at the terrified man. The bite mark on his neck was bleeding, staining the white collar of his suit.

“You bitch!”

“Ezi!”

Ezili whipped her head and found Harry, so she ran to him as the evil man clumsily got to his feet.

“What happened?” he asked her, his face pallid with fright.

“This bitch bit me!” the man shouted, pointing the finger at Ezili.

Harry turned back to her with rage in his eyes. “You bit my cousin?! I told you not to hurt anyone! What’s wrong with you?!”

“I didn’t have a choice,” she yelled back, angry that he’d believed the words of this bastard. “He was touching me! I don’t like being touched!”

The realisation flashed across Harry’s face. He put his hands on her shoulders; his eyebrows sloped as he swept his eyes from her head to toes. “Where did he touch you?”

“I didn’t do anything to your whore.”

Before Ezili could even react to those words, Harry went straight to him with his foot in his cousin’s stomach and again when his cousin tried to say something. Ezili had to grab his arm and pulled him away before he murdered someone. She didn’t care if he did, though. She just didn’t want to draw more attention to herself and get exposed in front of all the other guests.

Panting, Harry adjusted his tie and stabbed a finger at the man on the floor. “If I see you put your hands on a woman again, I’ll beat your ass and make sure you’ll never get to set foot back into this family again. You hear me?”

The man couldn’t speak, only whimper.

Ezili opened her mouth to question, but Harry stopped her by taking her hand. “Come with me.”

[thegreatobsesso]

Sorry you're feeling horrible! To distract you from your sads, I request some Callie and Riley interactions. Be indulgent. Share the bits you had most fun writing and I will get excited about it with you. Also, I just sent you a tag about books and TV shows. And...NOVEMBER BREAKS (AKA PROJECT STORM) WILL BE OUT IN MAY. Just so you know <3

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS CHEERS ME. OMGGGGG. BRETT AND NOAH MY BELOVED. I literally cannot wait to sit here with the project in its entirety and let it swallow me up like quicksand. Just ,,,

Bless this ask - I will share my favorite Callie/Riley scene, possibly my favorite scene from the whole book. This is not the best way to present it because Riley's the last person Callie or the reader actually expects to show up here, so the surprise is shot. Also it's right in the middle of a ton of other shit going down that you won't have the context for.

But, fuck it :D

-----

Callie POV

Two thirty in the morning, so she would be awake.

Not like it mattered so much when she slept and got up. She was on no schedule. If she decided she wanted filler activities they’d probably get the Ice Queen to drag her around again while Bennett was off arguing about equality for hours on end. And if she wanted to sleep the day away, she could do that too.

The water was getting cold again; she sat up and turned the brass handle of the faucet, bringing fresh hot water into the bath. The pipes that ran along the walls clanged and groaned in distress.

Shitty old castle.

Around one, her brain woke her by drilling the plan to escape Downing Bay. She tried to tell it to stop, that they didn’t have to think about that anymore, but it remained convinced it was still alarmingly important. After an hour fighting a losing battle, she decided to draw a bath instead.

No one who hasn’t been in prison - hasn’t spent years of their life cleaning themselves in long, stark halls with lukewarm water spewing from rusty shower heads in concrete ceilings - can know just how exquisite a bubble bath could be.

Callie knew now, and could testify, that it was better than sex. Yes. The hot waterfall splashing into the huge, porcelain, luxurious tub; swirling, caressing her skin, wearing away at every ache until her limbs felt like jelly. Bubbles, rising up high and soft like clouds, separating the world of the cold, cruel air from the magical underwater pleasure-pool that cradled her tired body. Candles and incense; smoke and musky scents filling the air of the darkened room.

Yes, yes, yes.

This claw-footed basin of bliss was her favorite thing in the castle - Lyonall School of the Arcane wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Or, it was exactly what it was cracked up to be: ruthless, sharp, unrestrained. It was her that changed, and she ached to get back to Delaney. How fucked was that?

Bennett was fighting a losing battle here. These people weren’t like him. Where did the other five of them stand, those other headmasters, besides one Bennett was banging?

Another draft - barely there, but in close quarters like this, odd. It ghosted over her wet arms hanging over the lip of the tub, and she pulled them down under water and shivered.

There was no one here, of course. It was just an old weird castle, maybe mildly haunted. She closed her eyes again and sent out a little magic to warm the water.

It worked, for a minute or two, and then the water cooled again. Except this time, too quickly. She sat up to turn on the faucet again but within seconds, the temperature plummeted and the water was freezing, freezing, fuck!

She yelped, cursed, and jumped from the tub, splashing water and bubbles all over the tile floor in her haste to grab her robe.

What the hell? She pulled the long, heavy robe around her body, staring at the tub. It looked normal. What happened?

She’d never be able to explain how she knew it was behind her again. She didn’t need to turn around; the same thing she felt watching her in the halls, that got close enough in the old gardens to make her arm-hairs stand up, to tingle the back of her neck. Familiar and foreign; human and not-human; wrong, wrong, wrong.

She clenched her jaw and faced it.

This time, it was there, and it didn’t just take on a human appearance, the thing standing stock-still in the door frame: it looked like a human she knew.

But it wasn’t her, couldn’t be. It was something seething and false, a memory from a dream that hid just out her mind’s grasp.

Half-convinced her hand would go straight through it, she moved forward and touched its cheek.

It didn’t disappear - it was solid, warm, and alive. Too alive. Pulsing with power she could feel inside her own chest - too much, too many kinds.

“Riley?” she asked. It felt like a foolish thing to say to the thing so obviously wearing Riley’s face.

Riley wouldn’t wear a dress like this, a black linen thing, simple but elegant, loose but flattering, with bulbous, fluttering sleeves cinching at the wrists. Riley wouldn’t be here, in this bathroom inside Lyonall School of the Arcane, barefoot on the floor like she’d been born here. And Riley’s eyes were grey, not amber. Not this bright amber, simmering with a fire behind them.

Its hand came up to trail its fingertips over the back of hers, the color of the eyes alight in its veins too, and it smiled without moving its face. Numbness followed where it touched, spreading from the back of Callie’s hand down her wrist.

She pulled sharply to look, expecting to see something, anything, but it was just her hand; the numbness crept up towards her elbow.

“It’s me,” it said softly, its eyelashes fluttering. “Changed, yes. But still me.”

“No,” Callie stammered. “No, this is, this-”

“Sorry about the water,” it said, its cool gaze flicking to the bathtub. “I seem to cause disturbances. Water gets hot or cold, candles go out. A wind blows.”

She backed away, her mouth going dry, her feet oddly heavy. A spreading paralysis, but she wasn’t falling down, just becoming rigid.

“Stop,” she choked, wishing she sounded much stronger. “I’ll scream.”

She said it, and the ice crawling through her body shot up her throat. Her useless hands fumbled at her neck, but there was nothing to latch onto, no attacker to fight off except-

“This isn’t personal,” Riley said coolly (because through her panic she could see it was Riley, against all odds, against logic, against sense). “It honestly never was, you know. I thought I needed you.” She raised a single eyebrow. “I was short-sighted.”

Callie found herself frozen like a statue, her hands at her throat. This magic that slipped beneath her skin was beyond anything she’d ever felt; it bound her tightly and pulled in even harder when she strained against it, choking her life away.

“Don’t be scared,” Riley said, stepping aside - leaving the doorway to the bedroom clear.

Her feet stepped quite mechanically out of the cold puddle on their own accord. She passed right by Riley, close enough to smell her - tea leaves and hotel soap and latex, just like before, just like always - and her body folded itself awkwardly like a badly-stringed puppet and settled on the edge of the bed.

Not mind control, she noted frantically, observing herself - Matter magic, her limbs being controlled like a puppet, her vocal chords frozen.

How could Riley possibly do this? She flipped between her own types of magic, but none were a match for this hold.

Riley sat next to her, her slight body barely even moving the mattress, and sighed. “You and I,” she mused. “The only two hybrids alive. It’s a shame we’re not on the same side.” A pause. “Maybe the world’s lucky we’re not.”

Riley, but not Riley. Riley wasn’t this talkative, especially about nonsense - she wasn’t a hybrid. Or, at least, she didn’t used to be. God, but was that why she felt so wrong? Was that the reason for this unnatural, jittery cloud that clung to her, radiating from her like static electricity?

Riley brushed some wet hair away from her face. She couldn’t turn her head but found she could still move her eyes. Riley was watching her curiously, a small smile softening her angular cheekbones.

“I took Nauxial’s magic from Nauxial himself,” she stated matter-of-factly, gently tucking Callie’s hair behind her ear. “And every power he ever took along with it. That’s what you feel. I bet you’re even more in tune with it than anyone else, because you’ve known him too. Briefly, at least. You felt his wrongness, that swirl of a hundred different kinds of incompatible magic, and now you sense the same in me, don’t you?”

Her throat was rigid, her jaw clenched shut. Riley seemed to have forgotten, and on Callie’s silence, she saw Riley’s golden-orange magic pulse and it loosened, just a fraction - an invitation to speak.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, forcing her voice up through the small space Riley gave her. If it was true, Riley would never spill her plans unless-

“Because you won’t remember any of it,” Riley said softly, pulling her voice away again before she could question any further. “And I thought it’d be a nice way to pass the time.”

She stood up then, her black linen dress hanging softly from the edges of her shoulders, leaving Callie to dumbly contemplate her meaning. “I meant it when I said I’m still me,” she said, wandering to the vanity and picking up a vial of Callie’s perfume. “But I’m different, too. It feels good to tell you what I’ve done. To tell someone, at any rate.”

She sniffed the perfume, considered at it for a second, and then placed the cap on.

“This is a bit much, isn’t it?” she asked, spreading the folds of the dress open over her non-existent hips. “But you have to look the part. I don’t think I’d have had the stomach for it before, but now, it’s…”

She picked up a tube of Callie’s lipstick, twisted the bottom, exposed the color curiously. “Well, fun is a stretch, but it comes easier.”

Callie watched pathetically, locked in Riley’s magic and her own terror, as she leaned toward the full-length mirror. Riley applied the stuff carefully, puckering her lips and examining the results.

It looked absolutely obscene on her, blood-red screaming against her natural face, her sharp features.

The three quick knocks at the door would’ve made her jump out of her skin, if she could move.

Riley snapped to attention and looked, for a split second, something like herself - her softness disintegrated. She clenched her fist in Callie’s direction, flaring her magic, painfully tightening her hold on her throat.

This was why she was here, Callie realized - controlling her, telling her stories, rifling through her things. Killing time, until she stopped her from answering the door.

Three more knocks, louder this time, quicker, more insistent.

Help, she cried inside her mind, not even close to giving a shit who it was. And then, stupidly, for the first time, she remembered Bennett.

Bennett, she said, grappling for their connection across the bridge, but she couldn’t find him, maybe he was asleep, or, or worse- bennett bennett wake up I need help it’s riley she’s here she’s-

The door cracked open; Adrian Prentice poked his head in and she nearly wept with relief. So he was an asshole, so what, someone stumbled in and saw this, he’d do something, he’d stop it-

His eyes glazed over both of them, looking around the room, and it was only then she caught the practically imperceptible glimmer of obscuring magic. Riley hid the both of them in magic so subtle she didn’t even see it from the inside at first.

Her hope shriveled as Adrian walked through her room and her bathroom, searching for her. He lingered right in front of her for a moment, looking right through her and chewing his bottom lip, and then left the way he came. Riley only breathed again at the sound of three more knocks, farther away.

Bennett’s room.

She screamed across the bridge but it was more than just her body that was paralyzed. She heard his door creak open, hushed conversation - two sets of footsteps walking out of their suite and shutting the main door behind them.

Riley, at last, relaxed.

“You can’t begin to imagine my surprise, hearing you’d be here,” she said, and if there was some connection between Adrian’s intrusion and her statement it was lost on Callie. “I almost panicked.”

She placed the lipstick back on the vanity, her movements easy, languid again. “Adrian’s going through you one by one, plumbing your memories for anything he can use. I couldn’t have him doing that to you - I’ve got him believing I’m a descendant of Nauxial. That there was a secret bloodline and all that, the sort of thing these people love. Now,” she said, raising her index finger like a teacher coming to the point, “if he came across you and me, the orblex, the things we did in the basement…”

She dropped off, raising her eyebrows and searching Callie’s face and fuck, she was enjoying it - watching her panicked mind racing to catch up with the information flying at her while she was frozen and afraid. Adrian believes Riley’s a descendent of Nauxial, she told herself. Remember this, no matter what she does to you, she’s lying to Adrian, she needs him for some reason, she’s… she’s…

Riley cracked the door open a bit to look outside - Callie lost her focus, wracked herself for a way to draw attention, a loud sound, a signal, a-

“They’re gone,” she said, shutting it again. “I don’t think it’ll last long. I told Adrian that Simon was strong, but he’s a hard-headed, arrogant son of a bitch. Although, to his credit, I’ve gone out of my way to make him underestimate me.”

God, if she could just reach Bennett, to warn him, to get his help, anything. She reached for the bridge again or at least where it should be but nothing was there except black, black.

“Now, this is different,” Riley commented as she regarded Callie, motionless and helpless and growing in desperation. “Before, I’d have finished up with you as quickly as I could but now, now, I just…”

She knelt in front of Callie and she could see quite clearly now the earnestness in Riley’s eager eyes, the clean, sharp lines of her face, her blazing red lips. The sight left Callie stunned and stupid, a blow to the back that knocked the air from her lungs.

“I’ve never fully flexed this power,” Riley said, drawing her hands over her own magic that hovered around Callie, seeping through her skin, freezing her bones. Curiosity lit her eyes, not the old, clinical sort - this was closer to temptation. “I should go,” she admitted. “But I wanna test it.”

She laid her hands down over Callie’s, through the spellwork, and Callie watched numbly as Riley unclenched her fists and took her hands into her own. “You’re strong,” she said. “Not as strong as me, but stronger than almost everybody else. I wonder how much I could make you do against your will.”

The magic shifted almost imperceptibly, its taste changed; physical magic like hers, like Peter’s, but frightening in its precision, the way it clung to her muscles and bones and left her brain free to cry in protest as Riley pulled her gently from the bed.

No, she tried to say. No, no, no. She felt feverish; the robe clung to her clammy skin but whether it was from the bath or her fear, she couldn’t say. Riley took one of Callie’s hands in her own and held it out, away from their bodies; she took Callie’s other hand and placed it on her shoulder, smiling when it stuck there.

“My mother made me take ballroom dancing lessons when I was a kid. Amazing,” she hummed thoughtfully, low in her throat, “how all that muscle memory sticks with you. Have you ever done it? Nod yes or no.”

The magical bonds around her head and neck loosened a fraction but she didn’t use the temporary freedom, refused to give Riley the satisfaction until-

“I asked you a question,” Riley said softly, her voice laced with a different kind of magic. “Answer me.”

The answer was no and to her chagrin, her head moved side-to-side to indicate it. Riley smiled - just a hint, a subtle pleasure at a tiny victory.

Acid rose in her throat and she closed her eyes. Even if she had to feel it, she didn’t have to look. Riley’s hand, soft on her waist; her own feet moving over the tile. Riley led, and she followed.

To think she ever enjoyed being near this person - that she felt safe, that, that just because Riley was going along with her and because her own magic was stronger back then, that she had any power over the other woman whatsoever. She was never more than a game piece; a minor one, at that.

She never stood a chance. She could have all the strength in the world but she was so, so stupid and Riley was anything but and now, now she was… she was…

“Open your eyes,” Riley said.

She didn’t force her - just a simple request, no magic behind it.

Callie did. God help her, she was afraid of what would happen if she didn’t.

It was terrible this way. She could see too much, their bodies inches apart, their faces level. Riley’s eyes, mercilessly sharp; her wiry frame, even thinner now but twice as strong; her wavy hair tied loosely, elegantly back, a few stray tendrils hanging free over her shoulders. Her lips stained like she’d just eaten someone alive.

She was beautiful and it made Callie want to scream and scream.

“I’ll be free someday,” Riley said. “All these powers will be gone, and so will my natural one, and I’ll be a normal human being. I can’t do that to myself, though. I need somebody else to take my powers from me. That’s the thing I never understood before. Magic doesn’t disappear. It has to go somewhere.”

Her throat clenched: not because Riley made it, just because her body was trying to cry and Riley wouldn’t let it. She watched Callie carefully, checking for any signs of resistance as Callie’s body responded to the tiniest change in Riley’s touch. Her feet followed Riley’s in reverse; she didn’t even have to think. Her palm sweat in Riley’s cool hand.

“I have to perfect it,” she continued, her voice taking on a faraway quality. “I have to learn to take it away safely, and then I have to give that knowledge away.”

So it was true - the same thing she always wanted, different ways of trying to get it. More desperate ways. How many people would she pass this grotesque secret to before she found one who could do what she wanted? What would they use it for after that? The power to take away magic, if it fell into even worse hands than hers…

She forced her voice through, the words tearing their way up her constricted throat.

“People are afraid of me,” she rasped, knowing she only had so much strength left in her. “They should be afraid of you. You’re a monster.”

Riley looked into her eyes with a soft expression, somewhere between understanding and pity. “Yes,” she said.

Her feet stopped moving because Riley’s did. “I really should go,” she murmured with a quirk of her eyebrow, as if Callie were the one tempting her to stay. “I’ll put you back the way I found you,” she said thoughtfully. “It’ll be less jarring when you come out of it, I think, to find yourself where you remember being last.”

Riley had mastered moving her body now and she walked back to the bathroom far more naturally than she walked out of it. It might have looked, to a bystander, like she moved on her own accord. Might have looked like she didn’t mind Riley slipping her bathrobe off her shoulders, dropping it on the floor.

She cringed as she lowered herself back into the cold water, swallowing her mute humiliation at being stripped and positioned like an inanimate plaything. “There,” Riley said as she settled Callie’s body down into the tub. “Not so bad, it it?”

Then her eyes flicked to the water and she touched her fingertips to the surface. “Oh, maybe it is,” she said apologetically, flicking her hand dry. “Here you go.”

The water warmed as Riley laid her hands flat against its surface and shut her eyes - not enough to stop her shaking, not enough to calm the scream stuck in her throat.

“It is different now,” Riley mused, as if conceding it to someone who’d told her so, leaning comfortably against the edge of the bath. “I didn’t think it would be, but power changes things in ways I couldn’t have guessed. I’ve had people at my mercy before, but I’ve never taken any pleasure in watching someone squirm, or seeing fear in their eyes. Helplessness. It’s all very strange.”

She dipped the tips of her fingers into the bathwater again, near Callie’s arm, and swirled them around as she spoke.

“You poor thing,” she said, and reached up to caress the side of her frozen face. She would jerk away if she could, or bite her fingers off, or maybe just vomit. She couldn’t do any of those things. Couldn’t move. Riley’s fingers trailed up to the top of her wet head, and the room spun.

The damn water was getting cold again. It wouldn’t stay warm, not even for five minutes.

Shitty old castle.

She briefly considered leaning forward to turn the tap on again, but the water level was slowly dropping, the drain making a sad sucking noise, and it didn’t feel worth it. Something was off but she couldn’t say quite what. It gnawed at her. She felt strangely defeated. Or maybe she was just afraid to move.

So she just sat there instead, staring at the tap, letting the water drain.

[mommy-medusa]

a mom!Hera scene for y’all......

“Athena?”

Face blotchy, eyes stinging and red, hair disheveled, body aching all over, Athena slowly craned her head around to meet the gaze of Hera and her ruby-collared panther, and found that she didn’t even care about being seen in such a state. Frankly, she didn’t care about anything anymore. Zeus could burst through the mural of the snake and put a thunderbolt into her heart and she wouldn’t even fight him.

Because there was nothing left to fight for.

“Athena?” Hera said again, taking a step forward.

“Hera,” Athena said back. She sounded as though she had swallowed a handful of sand. “Hello. What is it that you need? I am quite busy right now.”

“Busy?” Hera echoed, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Athena confirmed, nodding weakly. ���Very much so.”

“Busy crying?”

Athena sniffed. Her eyes stung. “No. I am not. I am soaked to the bone. This is mere rainwater, I promise you.”

“I see,” Hera nodded slowly. “Then why don’t you get changed? I promise you that you will feel better if you aren’t slogging around in wet armor.”

“A smart idea,” Athena said. “I will do that.”

But as she rose to her feet, bolts of fiery pain lanced through her side and her palace was thrown horizontal as she began to fall back over. The only thing that stopped her from receiving a cold kiss from the floor was the queen of gods holding her upwards, and the first thing she picked up on was that Hera was a lot stronger than she thought she was.

“Athena,” Hera’s voice cut through the roaring in her ears. “Athena, can you hear me?”

Athena swallowed thickly, bile and ichor in the back of her throat. She released a shaking breath, then slowly righted herself. One of Hera’s hands remained on her shoulder, and the touch was surprisingly gentle. She had a terrible itching sensation that begged her to press into it, but managed to fight back the urge.

“My apologies,” Athena said, her words coming out strained and thread-thin.

“It is quite alright, Athena,” Hera said. “Zeus really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

Athena didn’t answer. She didn’t even lift her head from where she was staring at the ground. She felt disconnected from her own form, and yet the pain chased after her. When Hera began guiding her down one of the side hallways, she barely realized it.

The place where she was taken was a secluded room in the deeper part of her palace, bearing deep blue walls that had soaring owls painted in gold all across them and a ceiling that displayed emerald green snakes dancing among a star-filled sky. The space was lit from flickering torches suspended by iron holders. A rectangular pool took up most of the tiled floor, steam rising from its surface.

The bath.

“Oh my,” Hera murmured, gazing up at the ceiling and walls. “Did you paint all of this, dear Athena?”

“Yes,” Athena managed to utter. “I enjoy painting.”

“I can tell,” Hera chuckled. “Shall I undress you?”

“I can get in now.”

“With your armor and chiton still on?” Another chuckle, this time more of a soft laugh. “Silly child. That will do very little to clean you up. Just stand still for me.”

There were ten buckles that held her golden chest plate together, and Hera undid them all with quick precision for someone who had never worn armor before. Once the plate was gone, Hera removed her helmet and gauntlets, then untied the laces to her chiton. Athena briefly saw how stained and tarnished her clothing was before she was coaxed into the bath.

The water was as hot as fire, stinging her skin until she couldn’t tell hot from cold anymore. Her vision cut to white for several eternal seconds, then returned to her in blotches. She felt like she was being boiled alive.

Heat bloomed across her bare back like a flower made from flame. Her shoulders jolted. She couldn’t think straight. The owls on the walls were beginning to fly in circles, but shouldn’t that have been impossible? They were paintings! At least, she thought they were…

“Athena.”

Hera’s voice cut into her daze. She blinked harshly. The light from the torches felt too bright. Everything hurt.

“Athena, steady. It is alright.”

She shook her head, sending damp tassels of brown hair fluttering around her face. She heard a soft snort from behind.

“There you are,” Hera said. Her hands, nimble and gentle, cupped water over Athena’s shoulders. When they brushed the burn branded on the left one, Athena flinched away with a hiss. “My apologies, dear. Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” Athena said through her teeth. Both her side and her shoulder were masses of agony. She wanted to remove them entirely just so she wouldn’t have to feel so awful anymore.

But this was exactly what she deserved, wasn’t it?

“That damned man,” Hera shook her head. “I always knew someone would retaliate against him. He had it coming, if you ask me. But I never thought it would be you, wise child.”

“I doubt what I did could be considered ‘wise’,” Athena muttered.

Hera chuckled. “You have done what I’m sure many of us have wanted to do for a very long time. Myself included.” She paused for a moment. “But your reasoning…”

Athena braced herself.

“Medusa… Do you wish to talk about her?”

Athena was quiet for a long moment. When she finally found her voice, she croaked out, “I didn’t think I would ever be capable of feeling, well, feelings. Not like I did with Medusa. They just seemed beyond what I was made to feel. They didn’t fit the mature, wise, stoic goddess I am supposed to be. But Medusa-- Medusa broke down that belief for me. She didn’t see me as a warrior or a goddess. She didn’t see me as Pallas Athena or Athena, goddess of wisdom and war. She just saw me as…Athena.”

Hera nodded from behind. Her fingers began to work through Athena’s hair, almost soothing her into a state of nothingness, but her mouth kept working.

“I sent a storm to her island, you know?”

Hera raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

Athena nodded. “I heard a few mortals speaking of a gorgon and wanted to see for myself. When I saw her, I was stricken. I wanted to speak with her, but I didn’t know how, so I sent a storm to her island so I could go and ‘make sure all the innocents were alright’ and have a reason to talk to her.” She paused for a moment. “And a monster.”

Hera laughed. “And a monster?”

“I killed it,” Athena said. “Most likely to show off. I still do not fully understand my reasoning.” She paused again. Her throat felt tight. “I miss her.”

Hera’s panther licked the back of her ear affectionately. Athena managed a weak smile, but it didn’t last long. She stared at the surface of the rippling water numbly.

“You know, we should have known,” Hera said, gazing around the room. “Nobody likes snakes this much.”

That got Athena to utter a laugh. It rang hollow in her mouth, but at least it was something.

“Are you ready to get out?” Hera asked.

“Yes,” Athena answered.

Her limbs ached in a fierce, raw pain when she stood. Her side and shoulder were festering intensely, springing tears to her eyes when Hera applied a restorative herbal cream to the burns, allegedly recommended by Apollo, who had stopped her to share some of his knowledge on medicine on the way to the palace. After the cream, Hera rubbed Athena’s body in golden oils to soothe her skin and keep it from blotching, then helped her change into plain white robes fetched by Hera’s panther. By the time Athena got into her bedchamber, a large, round room filled with her favorite art pieces, she was completely exhausted, mentally and physically. She vaguely remembered falling asleep, curled up in her soft grey blankets, but whatever reality Morpheus had placed her into was eerily similar to waking life, yet plagued by the blood red shadows that often wrapped her mind.

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

What’s with the Goats, Steve?

Billy had never actually been in the Harrington house. But he knew what the rest pretty much looked like. The red door, the rectangle windows, the big shed by the pool that held exercise equipment. The outside of house was chic. It was clean and well trimmed and pigmented. Something a wealthy boy like Steve would assumingly live in. Billy knew it all on the outside. But he’d never been inside the house. No matter how many times he’d dropped Steve off after their shifts at work. He’d never been invited in. And contrary to popular belief, Billy wasn’t one to normally barge into someone’s home without reason.

He was aware of the key under the little blue gnome out back. How Steve himself had started the little petunia garden out front. How the pool was cleaned but closed off and Steve wouldn’t even look at it. He even knew about the rabbit Steve had had as a little kid that was buried under the pine tree sapling. He also knew that the bunny’s name had been Checkers.

Steve was a talker what could he say. If you’d listen he’d babble on and on. Billy could be the same way, but listening to Steve Harrington’s fond memories was a little more to his liking. Oddly.

But recently the BMW had been in some nasty encounter with a buck and was, so far, permanently parked in the Harrington’s driveway with a shattered windshield and craters in the hood. He swore one of the headlights hung out slightly too.

Steve had been distraught for days. Billy had to actually ask Dustin to help them revive Steve’s dopey side. Not to mention how the thing had already begun to run out of luck after so many days of carpooling the kids and rolling over stray demodogs. So, Billy and Robin picked him up when he needed to be somewhere. It was mostly to and from work and it was usually Billy even though Robin and Steve worked at the same place.

By this point Billy was sure Robin already knew what was up. Billy knew he wasn’t subtle. But Steve was also very...dense. And he also couldn’t tell when a person was interested apparently. His technique throughout life had always been 1.) tease and flirt 2.) hope for good a response 3.) ask out 4.) relationship. While Billy’s had always been 1.) flirt 2.) wait for them to flirt back 3.) wait for them to make the next move and 4.) take it from there.

Billy had been making light and flirtations notions all week and Steve gave them right back with vigor. But it was taking Steve an awful long time to take the next step. Billy didn’t think he’d be able to do it himself. Didn’t want to lose what he had if things shifted the wrong way. Steve was just about the best friend Billy had ever had.

Billy stopped in front of Steve’s driveway per usual on a warm and breezy spring day in April.

Steve looked at his house and then back at Billy with a contemplative look to his eye, “You gonna drive up the rest of the way?”

Billy stared back blankly, “You can’t walk?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “I did track, give me some credit.” Billy shook his head and then swerved into the driveway, Steve just barely missed hitting his head on the window. He then leaned back in the car right after stepping out, “Uh, wait.” Billy felt slightly disappointed about being in front of Steve in that brief moment. “I thought I mentioned us hanging out today—“

“Mentioning and asking aren’t the same thing, Harrington,” Billy reminded. He did this often. Steve would say the most generic things, a mere flutter of words in a conversation, but would then take it to heart and you’d be slammed with sudden plans. Just the other day he’d said he was hungry and then twenty minutes later Billy had been forced into driving them to the Dairy Queen outside of town.

“Oh come on,” Steve whined and pulled at Billy’s leather jacket sleeve, “We both have tomorrow off finally! You can sleep over, it’ll be fun. You’re fun, Billy, let’s have fun, come on.” He gave one last tug and then exited the car. Based on the speed he spoke and the uncontrollable smile Steve had, Billy could tell something was up. But it was also cute and Billy was a sucker when Steve was like that. Unfortunately Steve was almost always cute so there wasn’t much of a win win sort of thing.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he put the car in park, grabbed the key, and jogged after Steve. Steve unlocked the door in a rush with the jangle of his own set of keys. Before he opened the door he turned back with his hand in the handle.

“Oh, I should probably warn you, um...” Steve bit his lip and glanced at the door. Billy was laser-focused on that magenta, plush lip and then...there was yodeling. Yodeling?

Billy looked at the door in shock, “Harrington, what was that?” Instead of answering Steve turned the doorknob and gestured to two goats galloping towards them. One had a fully black, silky coat while the other was spotted like a cow. Their little, blunt horns worried Billy so he stepped in front of Steve a little swing of motion. The goats skidded to a stop straight in front him and just stared up.

“I think they like your hair,” Steve commented over his shoulder. The animals were, in fact, staring at Billy’s head. He stepped around and Billy had to stop himself from pulling him back just in case. Steve picked up the spotted goat and started rubbing its back. “Billy,” he lifted the goat up to Billy’s focus, “This is Joe. He loves chewing shirts so heads up. And this,” Steve let the submissive goat go and picked up the other one, “Is Remy,” he scratched the white spot of fur between the horns gently. “She likes buttercups and gnawing on hair especially so watch your head. She’s a jumper.” As of to prove his point Remy licked Steve’s chin and leaped down from Steve’s loose hold with impressive height.

For a lack of better words Billy asked in awe, “What’s with the goats, Steve?”

Harrington rubbed the back of his neck and let out a sort of giggle, “Well. I got lonely after Starcourt and the doctor said that a pet might help me with the PTSD or...something.” Suddenly Steve was sitting on the floor with the two goats at either side awaiting his attention. “And some farmer was getting rid of the runts for fifteen bucks each! So I took these two, the last of ‘em.” Now Billy knew Steve was sugar coating some of those details.

He wasn’t just lonely after Starcourt. Robin had explained a few things that triggered Steve’s fight or flight responses. Things Steve himself would never think to tell. Billy couldn’t handle the sight of rats or tar. And the smell of bleach made him vomit instantly. Steve knew that all. But Robin was the one to sit down and tell Billy how Steve couldn’t have his hair pulled. Or the sight of needles made him horribly nauseous. And he got close to chronic migraines, specifically in the colder weather.

Billy knew Steve intentionally never mentioned the time Billy had found him with his bat prowling the junkyard. Or the woods on the southwest side of Hawkins. Or when Mike had found Steve stumbling on a route to check on all of them. Billy had had to pick him up from the Wheeler’s because he was so paranoid and fatigued that no one could calm him. But Billy had become an expert at bundling Steve Harrington in their sort of affection. It was the sharp kind that made things go back to mostly normal.

Billy sat down too, maybe a little too close. But who was counting? Billy understood though, “Been having trouble sleeping again?”

Steve sighed forlornly, “Yeah,” he answered stoutly. Billy hesitantly stroked Joe’s side as the goat inched closer and Remy nuzzled into Steve’s side.

“I better get dinner out of this,” he teased and looked at Steve.

That damn smile.

“How long have you had them?”

“About four weeks but they’re eight weeks old,” Steve smoothed down the fluffed up white fur that bunched up behind Remy’s ears.

“They spend all their time inside?”

Steve looked almost offended, “God, no. I built a little coral outside for them in the morning and in the evening. I only keep them inside when I’m not here and the weather’s bad or at night. The weatherman had said that it was going to rain ‘cats and dogs’ today.” He quoted with his fingers and looked dispraisingly at the big sliding doors that could be seen through into the living room.

Joe made a disruptive, ear sore of a ‘baah’ and climbed into Billy’s lap. Rather invasively. Billy, for fear of the kid loosing balance, hugged him securely in place. The dull horns dug into the underneath of his jaw annoyingly but the softness of the animal’s shiny coat was enough to suffice. Steve tilted his head as he watched this go by and grinned with a softness Billy had associated clouds with as a child.

“I think he likes you,” Steve stated proudly.

Billy let himself smirk as he rubbed down Joe’s back, “He’s alright too.”

Steve was silent for a minute and then he stood up, Remy galloping after him, “I’ll start supper while you go wash up. You’ve got grease and ketchup on your shirt and I think that’s lettuce in your hair.” Billy’s hand flicked up to his head to feel for the referred invader.

He found it and threw it, Joe scurried after it attentively, “The diner was busy today,” he excused himself. Steve pointed to a blue door on his way to the kitchen. Billy entered through it to walls filled with powder blue wallpaper flowers. It smelt like cinnamon and the walk-in shower had little navy colored tiles. Billy stared at the citrus shampoo and conditioner lined up on the little shelf in the shower. Steve’s hair smelt like citrus. Abundantly most of the time and Billy sometimes lost himself in the aroma. God he was done for. The guys hair sent him to his knees practically. It was mortifying.

He showered quick and when he stepped out from the foggy glass box he found a yellow Hawkins High sweatshirt and soccer shorts. Billy furrowed his brow before putting on the shorts. “Didn’t know Steve had played soccer,” he mumbled to himself before tugging the long string in the front. When he exited the bathroom and slowly searched for the kitchen doorway, he listened to what Steve was saying to his goats.

“I think he went a little overboard on the soaps. It smelt like a lemon meringue pie in there. Or maybe it always smells like that. Joe, don’t eat the lemon grass, that’s to go with the chicken!” Billy peaked in and watched as Steve chased Joe around the island while the goat kept a sprig of green in his mouth. Steve had a pink and black polkadot apron on that flapped as he jogged. Joe went to escape the room but Billy crouched and grabbed him in one fluid motion. When he stood up Steve forcefully came to a halt just in front of Billy. Steve’s brown eyes were sparking orbs. Billy blinked and grasped the lemongrass, waiting for the black goat to slacken his jaw.

“Here,” he held the herb up and Steve carefully took it, holding a bit of Billy’s own hand as he did so and pulled it away slowly. Steve smiled thankfully, gently flicked Joe’s nose, and returned to his cutting board where he continued slicing the chicken cutlets. Billy asked to help and Steve seemed to grow excited. “Oh, you can work on a salad, there’s a head of lettuce in the fridge, some carrots and cucumbers and tomatoes too.” Remy appeared right in front of the refrigerator as soon as Billy stepped up to it. Steve noticed, “Just nudge her away, she likes the cucumber and she always tries to steal it when I get anything else out of there.”

Billy toed at her, prodding her away, “I thought you hated tomatoes,” Billy mentioned as he took out everything Steve had mentioned. He dropped everything in his arms on the other side of the island to where Steve was focused on seasoning the chicken. He bit his bottom lip when he was focused. Billy stared.

“Uhm,” Steve mumbled distractedly, “Just cube it and pat it a little with a paper towel. I can handle them when they’re not so wet.” Billy nodded and grabbed a cutting board from the drying rack by the sink and a knife from the wood block. He worked as he did in the kitchen at the diner and had a salad tossed up just as Steve was putting the chicken in the oven.

The goats where nowhere to be seen and Billy felt unnerved by the sudden quite, “Where are they?”

Steve looked up from cranking a timer with a wide eyed look, “Who?”

Billy held back a chuckle, “Steve,” he grinned amusedly and shook his head as Steve hesitantly gave back a confused tilt to his head. “Where are your goats?”

“Oh!” Steve pointed to the living room where the two animals where lying and staring at a robin hopping outside the glass sliding doors. “They’re waiting to go out,” Steve explained and hurried over while untying the apron. He opened the door and both goats messily ran out into the dewy evening grass and over to the small but spacious corral that Steve had referred to earlier. It was simple wood fencing, not much more that four feet high. The goats seemed to not care for it though and neither did Steve in the moment. Because the goats where lazily chasing the robin down to the tree line until the bird flew up and out of sight.

Billy walked out to Steve’s side at the end of the patio. Steve shivered, it had rained a little, hence the cool dew in the grass, and the air was chilly. Billy felt fine but he knew how Steve got colder then most, even though the man ran hot most of the time. He was a similar way himself, was a human heater but almost never got cold. Billy didn’t really think about it before he did it. Just pulled Steve close into his side and hugged him around his torso with one arm. Steve didn’t show any resistance and only froze up for a millisecond before he leaned into Billy’s side comfortably.

The sun was half covered by the end of the tree line. Cosmic orange and yellow highlighted Steve’s features cinema-like as Billy watched him gaze at the goats chase each other. When Steve finally did crane his neck back to catch Billy’s eye, he found plainly that he’d already had it. Steve’s eyes shifted down for a second and Billy had just enough hope to think it was his lips Steve had willingly glimpsed at.

“Wanna go get some ice cream from Donna’s later?” Steve asked and Billy caught something knowing in the glimmer of Steve’s irises. Highlighted like aged honey from the sun.

He nodded, “Sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Steve stated decisively. A date. He turned back to clap for Remy, who had just successfully jumped over the small bin filled with a basketball, soccer ball, and rubber ball.

Which reminded Billy, “I didn’t know you played soccer.” Steve seemed taken aback at the sudden question, like he’d forgotten too.

“God,” he said and leaned into Billy more, “That feels like decades ago. Yeah, I played the summer before junior year. Wasn’t my thing, I was put in goalie all the time because I couldn’t dribble the ball and kept tripping over it and staining my uniform.” Billy chuckled and Steve joined him heartily. “My mother has a picture of my whole front covered in mud somewhere.”

“I’ve got to see that,” Billy loosely pinched Steve side, making him bundle over to try and protect himself. Steve yelped with ticklish spouts of laughter and Billy laughed with him. Steve’s laugh was like a bell, like the church bells that even the non-religious could find a meaning too. Even at almost twenty, Steve’s laugh made him seem so much younger. Like he wasn’t plagued with neglectful parents, monsters invading his hometown, and the memories of all too many unnecessary deaths. Billy’s own was rougher but Max had told him once that his laugh did the same thing. She told him that when he laughed he seemed thirteen again, when he had first met her, when his father had been nice and Max had been innocent enough for Billy to take care with every step towards her. When she made him laugh like he had just started remembering how to do now.

Steve leaned his head on Billy’s peck and sighed, “I don’t even know where it’d be. My mother might have it. I have a hunch she had a photo album with her.”

“How’d you figure that?” Billy settled his hand firmer against Steve’s hip.

“She calls sometimes when she’s drunk enough to let loose and tell me how she’s feeling. Seems she only remembers me when she’s intoxicated. She babbles about times when I was a kid.” Billy couldn’t see Steve’s expression but he almost assumed the man was smiling a little. Like he was okay and happy that his mother only called when she was drunker than a sailor. He was fine with the scraps he got. And Steve was never one to stick up for himself. Never one to actually complain about the muddy puddle he was stuck in. But Billy didn’t want to watch Steve become immune to that. And it was bad enough that he wasn’t even registering what’s right and wrong anymore. But maybe Steve was finally accepting the outcome his family’s path had lead to. Maybe Billy missed being selfish and now he was selfish for Steve.

“Why does she do that?” he asked and Steve didn’t respond for a moment. The goats started to chase each other around the corral, shadows deeper as the sun set a little more.

“She doesn’t trust my father so she’s always by his side. He cheated a couple years ago and she’s trying to keep a hold of him. She can’t leave him for more to an a day without worrying to bits and pieces.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

Steve sighed and shrugged over Billy’s arm, “I get it, I don’t like it, but I get it. I spent so much time doing the same to Nancy. I lost the game and I have a feeling she’ll lose eventually too. I guess...I never hang up because I want her to know, even if it’s in the back of her mind, that I’m here for her when she realizes it. When he finally makes the final blow.” Steve looked up and Billy couldn’t regret causing the loosing stance in Steve’s eyes. Because what he’d said was the truth. It was what he felt for real and that what Billy had wanted. But he did feel apologetic for pushing. Steve had a hard time talking about his family, anyone could be able to spot that much.

“That’s kind of you to offer her,” Billy said and stared back at Steve through both their eyelashes.

Steve shrugged again, “Yeah, well, one of us has got look out for someone.” Billy knew he was implying his own family. But he couldn’t help but connect Steve helping him through all the hurt Neil had caused. How Steve had definitely been there for people before. But this was different. Billy knew that. “And I’ve got the goats, I haven’t told Dad about them but Mom thinks it’s sweet as long as they don’t eat the furniture.” Billy smiled and leaned his chin atop Steve’s hair part. Steve sighed, a little tired and a little content, “This is nice.” Billy decided to take the next step, maybe Steve already had, but Billy was making his own leap.

He slowly stepped around Steve while still keeping him trapped in the embrace. He leaned forward till their noses touched and he ignored the slight tickle. Steve and him were mostly the same height, Billy only shorter by an inch or so. So Billy had the best sight of Steve’s dark, coffee bean eyes and the starkly gentle emotions they emoted. Neither of them looked anywhere else, no ones eyes looked away from the others. It was peaceful until Billy felt two somethings, he assumed were horns, ram into his calf. He shouted and stepped back from Steve so he could check his assaulted leg. The smooth, black coat that Billy had just been stroking earlier was now jumping in front of Steve like it was disturbed by the both of them. He made a low ‘baah’ towards Billy before chomping onto the hem of Steve T-shirt self riotously.

“Joseph!” Steve scolded, rather harshly, “How dare you,” he ripped his shirt out of the goats mouth and hurried over to Billy. Remy had remade her appearance, making herself known to Billy by licking his hand and making a sympathetic sounding ‘baah’ much different from her brother’s. Steve took Billy’s hand and rushed back inside, guiding the goats with him. Joe was reluctant and obviously in a fit of self pity, but Billy was sitting on the counter as Steve checked over the bruising area with extreme intent. “I’m sorry he did that, he’s not usually so violent.”

Billy snorted, he couldn’t help it, “I think he was just being protective of you.” He winced when Steve gingerly felt around the bruising dots.

He looked up sheepishly, “Sorry,” he stood up and gave a quick peck to Billy’s forehead affectionately. And if that where any other person Billy knew he’d probably be very confused. Even with almost kissing outside, Billy wasn’t quite surprised by Steve’s actions. Because Steve was always affectionate, he hugged and squeezed you when you hugged him like he loves you more than anything. He was just soft hearted like that, defrosted in a way most weren’t.

Steve returned with a bag of frozen peas, “Here, this’ll help,” he held it to the two dark purple circles on his leg. Billy ignored the cold and ran a hand through Steve hair calmingly. He told himself there was a tangle and he was just making sure Steve’s pretty head of high hair wasn’t catching snarls. Steve hadn’t used any hairspray that day, or at least very little. He was surprised by the light, softness to it. Steve closed his eyes and leaned into Billy’s hand by the third stroke of his hand.

“Steve,” Billy began, he didn’t continue until Steve opened his eyes and looked up at him, “Do you think the goats will ambush me if I try again.”

Steve’s lips curved up and he leaned his temple against Billy’s knee, “Nah, Remy will protect you. Promise it,” he put his hands on the counter on either side of Billy’s sides and pulled himself up to standing. The counter was tall so for once Billy was the one an inch or so taller. Steve didn’t close his eyes as he leaned in and neither did Billy. They stared a moment before they closed their eyes and their lips actually touched. And then they were pressed together from forehead to waist. Steve was warm and breathy and confident. It was more relieving than the cold against the bruises. Billy was actually the one to break first. He hadn’t even realized until he tasted salt. Steve looked panicked, “Are you okay?” Steve’s hands were in Billy’s hair, pushing it back soothingly.

Steve wiped the tear tracks and Billy coughed out emotion, “I never actually thought that would happen. For real. You— You kissed me.” Steve smiled as it dawned on him and hugged Billy. Just hugged him, nothing more, nothing less. Arms around torso and slightly stubbly chin against his jaw. Billy almost fell apart. He wrapped his own arms around Steve’s torso and clasped around him like a magnet.

“I’ll do it again later too,” Steve whispered after a very long moment. They both pulled away when they heard the clomping of small hooves. Remy was pushing Joe over to them with the flat of her head and the force of her side. She stood silent and stared at Joe for a long while, the white of her spots reflecting the last light of the evening. Joe stood on all fours and slowly inched his way over to Billy’s dangling legs and licked his knee before galloping off with a blow through his nose. Steve chuckled, “That’s his way of apologizing.” Billy raised a brow and watched as Remy made her way over, calmer than the other.

“Some apology,” he mumbled sarcastically and Steve laughed while putting his head on Billy’s shoulder.

Then the timer went off.

[obibabykenobi]

omg i love your obi wan one shot. Can you do 38 and 40?? Thankss

ofc lovely!! thank you so much for the compliment 💖💖 this is my second time writing it cause my phone died when i did it on mobile >:( but i hope you like this one!

✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎

————stupid love

𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚋𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚒 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝

38; “Open your mouth.” & 40; “I’m going to fuck you in front of a mirror so you can watch.”

warnings: this is FILTHY

summary: you and Obi don’t get along, but that doesn’t stop the two of you to have a good time

taglist: @stephhopexo @scarletsoldierrr

You and Obi Wan Kenobi have never got along. Whenever the two of you were together, it was constant bickering back and forth. It’s been like that since Anakin introduced you two. Of course you knew of his reputation as an amazing Jedi Master and you admired his bravery, but he somehow found a way to get under your skin. You weren’t sure if it was his do-gooder personality, his dumb Coruscanti accent or the way he would run his hand through his hair.

So, when the council decided to send both of you to a far away planet to negotiate with a Queen, it made your blood boil. To be stuck with him and only him for two days was upsetting. He, on the other hand, was amused at how angry you were. He couldn’t believe he made someone so mad with just his mere presence.

Now here you are, standing in your guest room in the Queen’s palace who is also housing Obi in the same room. At least there were two beds. You grabbed inanimate objects and formed a line down the middle of the room.

“This is my side, that is yours. Don’t cross it.”

He quirked an amused brow at you and placed his hands on his hips. He looked over your shoulder and pointed a door that was on your supposed side.

“What if I need to use the restroom?”

You just shrugged, and continued to unpack your belongings.

“Hold it in.” Your voice held a ruthless tone and he was just becoming more and more happy with this, which irked you.

——————————————————————————

Night had fallen, and the both of you were peacefully sleeping. At least, you thought you both were. You heard what sounded like a painful moan come from the restroom. You sat up in your bed and looked over to see Obi wasn’t in his bed. If you weren’t worried, you would be angry about the fact that he crossed the line.

You swung your legs over the bed and softly padded over to the restroom. You heard heavy pants, thinking maybe he threw up.

“Obi...? Are you alright?”

You listened carefully for anything he might mumble out. He groaned again and your worry hightened. He definitely heard you, because he said your name so quietly.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

You wrapped your hands around the doorknob, and much to your surprise the door wasn’t locked. You softly opened the door and what you saw shocked you to no end. The image will never leave your mind. There’s Obi, sitting on the tile floor against the bathtub with his drawers down to his ankles and his hand wrapped around his red and angry cock. He didn’t stop pumping when you walked in, he looked at you straight in the eyes. His eyes were pooling with sex.

Somehow, his eyes were drawing you in, and you cautiously walked into the restroom and shut the door behind you. You bent down to his eye length, still connecting eyes. You were shaking, shocked that you’re seeing the Obi Wan Kenobi in such a vulnerable state and he’s letting you.

“Y/N, p-please...”

You started to fidget, he looked so desperate and he looked so good in this state. You searched his eyes, but you weren’t sure what he wanted.

“W-what do you need, Obi? I can help you.”

Your voice was soft, encouraging. This is probably the only time you’ll ever talk to him in such a tone. He moaned again while he stared at your peachy lips.

“Open your mouth.”

Then it hit you. He wants to feel your mouth, he wants you to please him. Your mouth went dry. However, you would never pass this opportunity up. You were going to drive this Jedi Master crazy and he was never going to live it down.

You kept eye contact with him as your head went lower, and his breath hitched in his throat when you gave a soft kiss to his cock. Your lips parted, and you slowly made your way down his cock. He drew out a long hiss and immediately grabbed a fistful of your hair. You took that as a que to keep going, so you hollowed your cheeks and got to work. He seemed to really like when you would kitten lick his slit, because he would tug at your hair a little too hard.

“F-fuck little one, you’re doing so well...”

You started to pump the parts you couldn’t reach, he he had to pull you off of him or else he would cum in your mouth. He brought your face up to his and kissed you affectionately, like his lips were so hungry for yours. He pulled the both of you up off the floor started to discard your clothing. He backed you up against the restroom sink and then turned your around, that way your back was flush against him and you could see yourself in the mirror. He started to nip at your earlobe, and did a trail of a kisses down your neck. He gently lifted your leg up on the restroom counter, that way you were nice and open for him to see your glistening cunt.

He backed up a bit to get a good view of it, and he ran his fingers along your folds. You shuddered at the feeling of his fingers ghosting against your clit and bit on your lip.

“Such a pretty pink pussy...and it’s all mine.”

He gave your ass a nice slap and caressed it, watching it color to a bright red. He bent down over you, stared at you through the mirror and whispered in your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you in front of a mirror so you can watch.”

And without a warning, he slammed right into you. You threw your head back and drew out a long moan. He hissed at how tight you were around him. One hand gripped your hip while the other made a makeshift pony tail for your hair and he tugged on it. His pace became agonizingly slow, and very savory. He wanted every second to count so he could memorize the look on your face and how good he makes you feel.

“P-please go faster Obi- fuck...”

He smirked at you, watching you beg for him. He loved it. Just a few hours ago you were yelling at him, and now your about to scream for him.

“As you wish.”

His tone was sinister, and then he started to ram into you with all his might, like he depended on it to live. Your squeals and his groans were making music together, and he loved watching your face contort into pure euphoria. Your heavy breathing was fogging up the mirror in front of you as he fucked you relentlessly. He gave your ass a few more slaps and he groaned at how the flesh would feel under his palm. Your moans were telling him you were close to coming undone, so he went harder. He wanted you to feel the best orgasm ever, especially from the man you hate with a passion.

With one last hit at your spot, your came undone around him and clenched. He grit his teeth at the feeling and before he could cum inside you, he quickly pulled out and made a little mess on your back. Both of you were gasping for air. He cleaned off the excess on your back and gently turned you around to face him. You lazily leaned up against his body and listened to the pounding of his heart.

“I totally fucked you into oblivion.” He knew you hated his little narcissism sometimes.

You just let out a small huff of laughter and slapped his chest.

“I still hate you.”

[thelordstears]

Writing totally isn’t a passion of mine *Wink, wink*

"Fools, always think they're the smartest one in the room, as is the same with saints, it would seem." - Moores Thomas

"The crow must have a very watchful eye; for even his flock is called a murder." - Valkronin Sambridge

"Sometimes what others do to obtain peace leaves you in pieces." - Bentley Harlem

"He is the enemy screams my ragged bone mind; again and again the shouts of my father echo in the night of my darkness, and again and again I let the lie envelop like blood in my chest." - Alastair Sambridge

"This wicked heart doth not beat lovely." - Valkronin Sambridge

"We're pawns in a game that doesn't fucking care; the King and Queen have left the brooks and knights bleeding on the edge of the board. All that's left of us is the way we move across a checkered board, wondering why black, white and red is the only color we can see through these loyalty blinded eyes." - Flitz Haktoll

"We're all lookin' for glory at the end of a faded bullet; grins echoing in the decaying lights of justice and heroism." - Benjamin Scotsfire

"Glory is not found in the pursuit of death. It's often found in the pursuit of something greater." - Henry Onlark

”Lies fall slick from the tongue of the foolish.” - Cross Smykens

"I left the war; but it never left me." - Jay Foster

"Ya know; a man once told me to turn my rage inta power. Let it be the kick of my bloodied rifle, but as I turned that rage to power, as I let that bloodied rifle bruise my shoulder; I learned that power's name was corruption all along." - Maximus Bates

"When everything is ripped decadent from your veins you find a substitute for that abyss in your heart; and I've filled it with cracks of who I'm not." - Terminus Hydra

"People like us don't get third chances. We just get ta live the rest of our lives in this flat circle, we're doomed ta try and run on these hand me down shoes; but we'll just get right back where we started. Standin' stagnant in our cruelty." - Scottenmire Travol

"You haunt many a folk 'round here and you don't even know the names of the graves carved into the stone of your heart; everyone's nameless too ya. But everyone's got a name and a couple thousand stories to tell, what merry little tale do you think I plan on orchestrating tonight?" - Monte Pelamo

"I thought I was raising a rifle to fate; but then I bled as my finger curled around the trigger." - Alastair Sambridge

"Glory and death often go hand in hand; interlocking bloodstained fingers within one another's as to best watch humanity flitter and fade away into dust and ashes. Have you ever noticed how cruel people get when life fucks 'em over? How evil seeps through the good man's heart all because he had a bad fucking day? I'm the seed of evil planted into the good man's ribcage, blossoming like a black rose of thorns and shadow in the heart of kindness." - Diablo Bohnsello

"I already walked that path brother. I already have a coffin fitted for a man that ain't me; it's why I'm so fucking dangerous." - Hectorvallo Bloodwain

"If you can't fucking get something out of doing what's right, than what's the point of being the good guy?" - Trent Aval

"Oi'm just a stumblin' deer, wonderin' where these breadcrumbs will lead me." - McKady Cornwall

"Some men call me a mad man. But I imagine you'll call me a monster, or karma, in some wicked sense. Who I am is usually defined differently for every man I come across. They all have their own little tale. Some weep as they read the poetry scribed like scars in their heart, some rejoice in the wicked man's tale. But you, little one shall die, in some strange and peculiar way. Not in the sense that I'll bury you, but in the sense that I'll wipe your slate clean and scribe little pieces of my darkness onto your blackened pages." - Westell Gramstein

"Crazy and misunderstood is a very thin line many walk." - Westell Gramstein

"I was stuck in a shadow like trance, dancing with the light of my very own moon. It was under the decadent and decaying lights of that pale light cast from the sky that I was stricken by a very sudden madness. A very quiet, madness." - Shackelstan Puppeteer

"Any man can become a shadow wisped secret of himself. How do ya think the darkest of creatures are made, brother? They start off as good people doin' good things. But sumthin' comes along the line and rips them from their shadow, leavin' them defenseless against the dark." - Valterren

"In all madness, my friend, there is what created it. Dare you tread in the black waters of my mind?" - Westell Gramstein

"When it's your life or mine I tend to get a little selfish, a little cowardly. And these days, the bullet is my only saving grace." - Kyro Bellford

"I stand stagnant in a pool of others blood, wishing it was my own." - Alwine Hickory

"I looked for who I am in all the wrong places. Like the way a boys hurt tasted on my heart, or the way a cigarette burnt my tongue. It's as if I never really found me. As if I never will. Because in all honesty, I feel as though I was never someone that could truthfully be called Inazo Lizomann." - Inazo Liomann

"I'm licking fate off of the barrel of temptation's revolver, my heart splintered and weary. Once you get a taste of the things that damn you, like the way cruelty tastes on your tongue, you begin to fall away from yourself. I swore up and down I'd survive. But I didn't. I never had." - Huntsdale Klizollo

"Unity with control is like putting a cat in water. You think it won't resist, you'll think that peace can be found within the feral animal you've dropped into the waters of unified revolution. But eventually, claws start to fly and the once unified civilization becomes nothing but the ashes it once started as." - Hex Sweeney

"I'm cursing you with the thought of life in the midst of the death of those you called friend." - Sevelsworth Hickory

"They always say, oh go ahead, open up. Let those scars bleed so you can reach the light everyone's always preaching about. And then you let your emotions come running from your lip like a river, and they put a dam in your mind and tell ya no one gives a fuck about the kid of trouble and bone. So you pick up a few bad habits, you throw another fist against a kid in your same situation and make due with what ya've fucking got. As if the dam built in your mind keeps all but the rage in." - Flizo Thompson

"I'm old bones buried beneath the rubble of identity. Don't matter how much I struggle, how much I try to survive. Because I'm already dead, and at this point, bein' a walking grave don't sound so appealing. So I burn up my lungs and pray I drift away with the smoke." - Ramo Bonewitz

"No one cares about you Ramo, you're already a ghost. All I have to do is give that little extra push into the unknown." - Quentin Satchel

"You won't make it out of this alive. You'll try. You'll walk mile after mile. But you're just a tombstone with legs." - Quentin Satchel

"My thirst for blood started young. The first day I saw the driblets of crimson drop to the tile floor was when a kid brought a razor blade to school and drew blood against his bully. An act of defense. And gradually my thirst for this kind of behavior grew. It started with rooster fights, watching the little fuckers claw at each other with those sharp nailed talons of theirs. But that gets boring quick. So I moved onto dogs. And that evolved into watching wolves fight in my father's barnyard. But eventually you get sick and tired of fur and fangs, so you settle for something more dangerous. Something more rewarding. My father taught me the game of gladiatorial fighting. Civil. Just. Merciful. And as I watched that man cut his brother down in the blink of an eye, oh I knew I could never go back. And I never would. I became a master of the arena, sitting on my throne of gladiator and gladiatrix's corpses." - Sevelsworth Hickory

"The blood of my father's victims sits on my hands, as if it was me pullin' the trigger. As if all along, I were pullin' the strings. Sometimes, when all ya can do is watch tragedy unravel, you get this funny lil idea that it's all your fault." - Alwine Hickory

"I was raised on the Devil's backbone of sin, standin' like the snarl of a rifle. Don't you come ta wonder what makes monsters like me? Brother, life has always been what makes monsters outta human men." - Cavowit Hickory

"We're all just thieves and bastards lickin' up the pieces 'a fate we got left. So why you gon' go damnin' me for preventin' the crooked bitch from comin' for me sooner? Son, I'm just doin' what it takes ta survive this Devil's country." - Stalkman Hickory

"I got a tattoo runnin' below my eye that tells the truth, as if the grim reaper has put her eternal mark on me." - Henio Bonstook

"You'll become a reflection, of sorts. You won't exactly, look like me. You won't exactly, look like my gunmetal stained past. But it'll be there, lurking in the corners of the mirror. Waitin'. Watchin'. Readyin' itself to pounce on the little gunslinger who thought he could, and that my friend. Is the day you'll die." - Ulfrich Diggory

"It's not about, who you are in the now. It's about who you're gonna be after I start carving little pieces of you off with the edge of my gunslinger malice." - Ulfrich Diggory

"Truthfully, I killed someone for that woman. I carved little pieces from off my heart, begging her to love them, but she was a Devil wrapped in gossamer, silk and roses, telling me that our little secret was nothing more then a flickering streetlight, providing little protection to the darkness of the night. And I suppose, my streetlight flickered out, leaving me with nothing but the sparks of a cigarette and the warmth of a revolver." - Grant Filepen

"Where once faith swung like curtains behind my ribcage, now it feels more like a couple of nooses, whispering my fate into the winds of my feeble, decaying sense of self." - Amaziah Bokenmay

"To the circus you shall go, to lose your mind and find a darker soul." - Moores Thomas

"Truthfully we're all heroes in some capacity. But some cast that away, they tear it screaming from their heart, our heroism often begs when faced with greedy fingers, but the cruel don't care. And to all the heroes who invited the kindness in, I hope it didn't take too many pieces away from you, to let the fact that cruelty exists despite the bravery in you break you." - Kirsten Hezofrein

"The cruel call peace a revolution just so they have an excuse to kill the protestors." - Sebastian Dovens

"The blood ran black from my wrist, dripping down like candle wax damnation." - Joey Alderson

"Skinny and starvin' I died, sittin' on the edge of my frozen over revolver. I shivered, I shook. And mate, I didn't make it ta the end of the tunnel, I was caught by the traffic of beasts, but 'ow peculiar is it, that they stared at me with eyes I recognized? As if pe'raps, friends can become enemies within the span of a god damn blink." - Arv Harknizia

"Darkness has to blot out the sun for light to shine later on." - Gustave X. Van Velk

"Those in power are often the weakest man kind's got to offer." - Garth Yeager

"I saw life flash before my eyes in the banging of a rifle, sins sitting cruel on a masked man's sleeve. It was in that moment of death that I cut humanity from out my heart, becoming something unfamiliar. But these cackles of insanity start to feel beautiful." - Tahasha Moonlight

"Life keeps forcing me down, these shadows start to whisper into my mind that the light is just outta reach. And those damned shadows rip at the threads of the sun's golden rays, ripping into the warmth of Summer forevermore. I'm telling you man, you think Summer memories will always be goofing off under the hot sun, playing videogames with your best friend as your mom brings you cookies and lemonade. But all I can hear now is the gunfire melody of the hunt, sickening cackles ringing in my ears like poppers goin' off to damn early." - Scottie Bloodvallo

"Death is something we can not avoid. It catches all souls who live, it lingers in the cold mountains and in the hot springs, hiding in the shadows and the light. Wherever we go it is hiding, always hiding. But I find it so,  innately cruel that sometimes, death catches up to men and women who still have miles to walk. People who from then on out have to walk mile by begrudged mile in death's wicked boots." - Caesar Cagelstan

"Men like me, men of the mountains and cold harsh winds of Antarctica don't really fuckin' live. Sure, we breathe. But as an old friend said there's such an ugly difference in that, cause as I puff another hazed, stale old cigarette, smoke drifting towards the Heavens, I come ta realize these angels wear smoke wings and ember halos, praying that this warmth is enough ta melt the ice in their hearts." - Daryl Fate

"People think that because they've walked comfortable miles, they know what it means, to truly be alive. But breathing and living are a very thin line many cling too, as if it was the lit fuse of a pact of dynamite, praying that it doesn't cover them in shrapnel truths and war bound horrors. I no longer live. I breathe. And there is such an ugly difference in that." - Mankar Hagmallio

"You don't know this city like I do kid. There's sharks swimmin' in the waters of these secrets, boy, and you're starting to smell a helluva lot like blood." - Roman Ustolgio

"I'm a Diablo, friend, and you're here for a handshake." - Abundio Garciel

"They called me a fucking misfit, as if who I am wasn't enough for society. And so as I washed myself in the blood of my innocence, draped in the crimson shawl of my identity, I came to realize no one, and I mean no one at fucking all, can add up to the expectations of a civilization ruled under the boot of the Heavens. And so we call ourselves angels, as if that made us holy in any sense of the fucking word." - Nicolla Bravajin

“ These skyscrapers stand like dead goliaths of faith and virtue, reminding us that New York city is where identities go to die and justice comes to wither and writhe underneath the heat of another darkened day. “ - Bartley Exodus

“ There comes a time when every man must choose who he wishes to be. He can walk the road seldom traveled or walk amongst the villains, slipping a mask of fangs over his face as to hide the bravery flickering in them golden eyes of his.” - Bartley Exodus

“ I pick up my old, rusted revolver and carve a couple dead men's names into the bullets and shove 'em into this chamber. Did I say dead men? Sorry. I've got a tendency to talk future tense." - Bartley Exodus

“ There's a locked room in my head where all the thoughts used to go.” - Bardem Lazolla

“ You know, all my life I've had to be tough, had to be just a bit stronger than the last guy; but I'm tired of the act. This mask is beginning to slip and I fear who I'll be once it falls. I've been someone else for so long that I don't know who I'll be once I'm me. “ - Bardem Lazolla

“ Isn't it strange how some people choose to be stuck in a nightmare while everyone else is living the dream? They can say we're all crazy, nutcases who belong in the looney bin. But in the end I'd rather be crazy than normal. I'd rather be me than someone I never was.” - Axelo Hayware

“ We've gotta be accepting, because humanity is built on love; but some people think power and hate is what gets you a name remembered. Yeah sure, names like Adolf Hitler and Julius Caesar are prevalent in the history books; but who do you look up to? Martin Luther King Jr or the fool who let power get to his head?” - Axelo Hayware

“ Humanity isn't doomed, we're just a little stuck is all." - Axelo Hayware

“ You know how when you're just a kid you dream of one day changing the world? Well look at you! Look! You did it; I promise. We're all changing the world daily with our actions, wondering if we ever meant a damn thing in the end; and I'll admit, I stumbled a few times. This path had a couple of roots along the way that felt like a noose wrapping around my dreams, forcing me to sputter and choke on nightmares.” - Tom Hanson

“ I refuse to let the gunshot melody become my song. “ - Tom Hanson

“ Look, there's a time and place to be a hero. And that's everywhere and all across the clock.” - Spencer Vokeswagon

“ I'm just the civilian who watched in wonder as the sky burned with glory bound promises, smelling the way they broke in the air.” - Spencer Vokeswagon

“ I'm falling inch by inch; wondering why the fall is such a slow descent, it has taken years for me to reach the atmosphere, and I have been burning ever since I first touched a broken star with human fingers that never should've found those old secrets dusted in the corner of a shelf in her son's bedroom.” - Valentine Valks

“ I shall never discover for I fear taking a step forward.” - Valentine Valks

“ Was that taut leather in his eyes or love?” - Valentine Valks

“ He is cruel and unjust, claiming himself an angel as he rips the wings from other's backs if only to stitch them onto his own. Is it such a sin to give life to the devil whom would steal it? I didn't know, I plead to the Heavens. But in my skull I hear the booming voice of God fracturing my pieces, and he tells me, "It matters not. He is your blood; and so you shall bleed in his place." And like a fool I accept my punishment as Jesus once did. I am bleeding on a crucifix of my son's sins, crown of thorns wrapped around my head as all the color bleeds from me. Black and white blend to a warped sense of grey; and all I know becomes fogged and misty. “ - Valentine Valks

“ I was raised a warrior, fighting battles of mind and blade, because in a world where evil lurks in every corner; everyone needs to be a hero or have the capability to be one. “ - Kadlin Paulson

“ The true warrior fights for what she loves and what she knows to be true.” - Kadlin Paulson

“ I'm an old tree trunk covered in the scars of the hatchet; and I know they dare not remember my name. For if the hatchet were to remember the name of every tree it cut its handle would begin to rot. Because to cut and cut and cut; the hatchet must have slain a couple of once sturdy trees. But I will stand sturdy forevermore. “ - Kadlin Paulson

“ I was young when I learned to keep a watchful eye on all that one loves; for everything has a darkness waiting inside of them, prowling in the depths of all saint's bones, waiting to pounce on the weary hearted followers of God. Dare not let this darkness prevent you from stepping into the light; for this is how the shadows in your ribcage win, how the demons start cackling with a strength they didn't once possess. “ - Nial Moorannan

“ My hands are stained with the blood of every man I've ever been.” - Nial Moorannan

“ I have watched the sun set one too many times; aiming the scope of this fox hound's rifle a thousand and three times, always me in my sights. Always me I watch go down in a howling scream of blood lit confessions and regret cackling at the midnight sky ever burning.” - Nial Moorannan

“A serpent followed us into our perfect little garden of Eden and stood watchful at our forbidden trees; eyes beady and forever burning with an emptiness that was never quite human. And he stripped the roses from Heaven; he tore the angels from a once clear sky and cackled as fire erupted through the clouds. And so all the angels of Eden fell; forever fell. On that day I died a death like no other, dreaming of beauty as I fell from Heaven, grasping the burning clouds wondering why death tasted like a memory on its way." - Nial Moorannan

“ There's a black serpent slitherin' in me ribcage; darin' me ta take a step forward in this dance with me shadow, and I dance, and I dance, and I bloody dance. A pirouette in the soddin' dark of me own bloody moon. “ - Arnold Schull

“ First time I died was when I were covered in da blood of boys sent howlin' ta an early grave, dagger drippin' crimson wif' regret. Second time I died was when I shook da hand of a masked devil, anarchy and violence howlin' just behind me. And mate; I've died many more times. “ - Arnold Schull

“ I've neva' seen 'is face. But those eyes dance wif' somethin' sinister. “ - Arnold Schull

“ Sometimes we hit the clouds before we make it to Heaven.” - Armellos Crescendo

“ Feather by feather who you are will be restored. “ - Armellos Crescendo

“ Rejoice, my friend; the sun of humanity has yet to sink. “ - Armellos Crescendo

“ I got fight left in my old bones and people to protect with all I got, so I roll up my sleeves and stick a cigarette between my teeth, letting the smoke be a warning of the fire that roars inside of me. “ - Armellos Crescendo

“ My father once told me that we have a choice when faced with the edge of a bullet; we either run from it or let it dig into our hearts. We're either the shield or the one that's behind it. And my mother once said that the world is a sorrowed plain of darkness; we're just the stars living in the blanket of shadow. And these words echo in my mind as I try to push back against the life I've been living, the sorrow ached life I've been given. “ - Ariel

"There's a storm in me heart. It rumbles and cackles with lightning and thunder; red rain pouring down on me cracked and broken ribcage, and as I try ta rest I feel the storm brew like death in this weary little fool. “ - Annabelle Courtney

“ I didn't pull the trigger, but I din'it stop anyone from lettin' the bullet soar neither. “ - Annabelle Courtney

“ I was a good woman once. But ever since I met that woman underneath the streetlights, I knew that I was a goner; she wore her nails red as blood, leather jacket draped over her shoulders as she snarled at the sky and all who made her the way she is. And as I fell through the ever lit skies of her rage I became something much less than who I am. She once dug sharp nails into my cheeks and snarled at me to paint the walls the color of my namesake, and with mournful regret I watched the white walls become a ruby red. “ - Ruby Vollstale

“ She's just a wild dog that doesn't know how to calm herself down.” - Ruby Vollstale

“ I once told myself that the fall is a long way down; but as I started to trip, the fall felt like only a few begrudged seconds. “ - Ruby Vollstale

“ Before one can fall head first into death he must go through the echo of life.” - Zecheriah Holyton

“ We are dropping like flies swatted by the electric swatter; dying as flashes of light in the nebula abyss of earth.” - Zecheriah Holyton

“ I was born curious, my friend. So I dug into the truths of philosophy and secrets, tearing my measly little claws into the greatest poets man kind ever knew trying to find the purpose of a life so obsolete. And I discovered that in truth; life is what we make it. But it also happens to be heavily influenced by our surroundings. “ - Zecheriah Holyton

“ I look into the stars of Heaven and often wonder if it's angels or graves in the sky or if that perhaps the sun is a culmination of all the burning wings set ablaze to give humanity warmth on event the harshest of winters. “ - Zecheriah Holyton

“ We are dualities of what we've done; wondering if what we didn't do condemns us in the end. “ - Zecheriah Holyton

“ Humanity is a vessel; of what I can never tell. All I know is that we're Babushka dolls." - Zecheriah Holyton

“ It's funny, how people will look at the unwell man with such fucking disgust; they say, "Look at the battered whore of a man! Sipping on the delusion that he is something other then his madness!" But don't they understand I'm trying to stuff myself so full of placebos that this fucked up thing I've become finally passes me by? “ - Arthur Wellburn

“ These emotions whir around my mind like cannons and gunfire, always hitting me down to rock bottom. But then I soar! Oh how I fucking soar. But I'm always falling within a month; laughing at the thought of splatting bloodied against rock bottom once again. “ - Arthur Wellburn

“ They always say you're strong for fighting the mental illness, but if they could see my heart they'd recoil and ask me to be put in a mental ward for all the thoughts that swim like death in this black watered river of my fucked up mind. “ - Arthur Wellburn

“ I'm just a nobody looking at the world through the eyes of Arthur Wellburn, wondering why I can never see a reflection of my mania. I'm stuck in this little corner nowadays, as if I'm just this little monster in a cage of his mind; and I'm always thinking the cure to my disease is a revolver shoved in my mouth and a wildly loud BANG! BANG! BANG! It'd be so much easier to die than to live, you know? So much easier to let the weight of my burdens fall onto my families shoulder like a ghost that lingers on the other side of death. But I never do it, I never do! And I get to wondering, "Why?" Because as life guns me down; I cackle in the red rain." - Arthur Wellburn

“ Look, I was just a kid hiding his truths behind dorky smiles and girls I didn't even have a crush on. But my brother, my sister, they were always gonna accept me as I am; there were never strings attached to our bonds; never scissors waiting to slice. “ - Tony Ikelfur

“ I am nothing more then a messiah of the broken and condemned; come one come all, safety is found in the comforting embrace of the shadow mistress. “ - Antonio Sharp

“ I walk within the light if only to watch it fade; striding beneath the sun if only to watch it sink one last time. “ - Antonio Sharp

“ I was born under the shadows of pinewood trees and howling wolves.” - Antonio Sharp

“ As the world comes to a grueling close who do you think will walk into paradise? The holy; or the heretics of life? Who do you think will be praised by the oh so holy creator of darkness but they who embraced it? We are beasts and bastards in these shadows my brother; so become one with the edging blade of destiny. Let it cut pieces of your identity from off your skin, let it call to you with the silver shadow of a soon to be crimson soaked dagger. We are children of the shadows; messiahs of the night. Dare the hero walk into the night with his rifle and bravery he will be shown as an example as to why the darkness is superior. “ - Antonio Sharp

“ I'm cheap smoke rising from the New York sky.” - Ambrose Walsh

“ Ever since the day I dug a grave I ain't been who I am. The lantern shed a pale yellow light across my face, cigarette stuck between my gritted teeth as I huffed and puffed, shovel working hard as the soil dug up beneath me. The moon was cast sorrowful on this broken man's soul, the reflection of a wolf dancing in the stream right by the old cemetery that knows too many forgotten names. You really don't wanna meet who I became that cold, Sundeh night. Because not even I can face the bastard in the reflection. “ - Ambrose Walsh

“ You can't trust the dogs who kept on a diggin' despite the way the soil reeked of death.” - Ambrose Walsh

“ You know how you try and be who you are after tragedy? You cling to the memory of the smile in your mirror and convince yourself that you're still that person? Because I tried real damn hard to be that person after the fire. But I know that boy is gone; buried underneath the secrets he found in a town he thought knew peace. “ - Alex Devonwood

“ I hate to break it to ya, but angels don't fucking exist. We're all just people living our sorrowful little lives selling ourselves to the dream that it gets better one day. But it doesn't, it really doesn't. I've been trying to find that happily ever after for a long time, but the man that haunts my memory? He sits in the recesses of darkness like a leather draped beast always waiting to drag the hopeful into his devious maw. Truth is life wasn't made to be lived. Life's only purpose is to serve us to death on a silver platter and I don't wanna stand for that. I wanna live but know it's impossible. “ - Alex Devonwood

“ I tried to tell my story; but no one roots for the underdog who never bit back, the dog who never barked his truths to the sky. People prefer tales of perseverance over the tale of the boy who never won. It gives them false hope, that they can be like the boy who won. But the boy who lost eats their dust." - Alex Devonwood

“ I used to be full of this joy that you couldn't really kill; but that man, he tore it from me. Sorrow leeched at the edges of his eyes; a dogs bark snarling somewhere in his throat, and he told me that we all live our lives confined in a locked room. And that the wrong person had found my key. And into my locked room he walked, ripping my heart from out the walls, digging into the wallpaper to discover the secrets I hid like confessions in my chest. And it was on that day that I was left as barebones of who I was. “ - Alec Bonehoff

“ I was just a fucking kid, man, I shouldn't have had to bare the weight of my brother's unguilted conscience. “ - Desmondo Dreadful

“ Sometimes ve chase our dreams. Sometimes zey chase us. “ - Luka Schiefer

“ People are always gonna hate even though it don't get no one anywhere, so when faced with this rage, when faced with this hatred ever seething. Take a few deep breaths and remember emotions often lie; and given the chance they'll shoot ya down with pellets of doubt and fear.” - Gary Heartlock

“ I was just a kid enjoying the company of himself, always told he just weren't a good influence. “ - Gary Heartlock

“ When you let the armor of lies shed from off your skin you start to grow a tougher skin of truth; don't you know that's why Icarus laughed as he fell? “ - Gary Heartlock

“ Be so authentically you that the hateful use you as an example of what's wrong with humanity; be so yourself that you set the bricks for the next man's path. “ - Gary Heartlock

“ You know how it is, right? You try and do the right thing but get caught up in all the bad of this world, wishing you had just stayed the fuck put.” - Dominiqua Claytor

“ Somedays I look back at the bridges I burned; memory of my eyes watering stinging my mind, the idea that I once smelled the smoke killing me from the inside. But I learn my lesson and move on. “ - Dominiqua Claytor

“ My brother and I are just two cold cases no one cares to look into; because who the hell cares about the death of identity? Who cares about the cigarette that never sparked up? “ - Adella Furrow

“ With my tattered boots and old leather jacket I walked into the unknown, and from whence I never returned. “ - Abel Romiro

“ Everyone stared me down, blaming me for the way fate unraveled, and I started to wonder if that town was home or just another house of too many damn walls. “ - Abel Romiro

“ That town was just too filled with devils for a single angel to do a damn thing.” - Abel Romiro

“ I've been both Cain and Abel truthfully; both Judas and the apostles who followed faithfully. But in the end I betrayed my own namesake, blood of a brother staining my once pure hands; and on that day I killed the hero inside of me. On that day the vultures flocked around my heart; pecking at what was soon to be dead. “ - Abel Romiro

“ That man locked me in a cage of the mind and told me to flay these pieces of identity from off my skin layer by layer. I bled for hours on the meat hook. A starving and skinny crow I became; yearning for a day where death didn't seem like a dream. And I found it in the hearts of my shield sisters. “ - Aadab Zivell

“ They say good fortune comes to he who raises a pistol in the name of peace; but often the man who slings bullets and sins ain't the man who finds the stairway to Heaven. “ - Aristead Solace

“ I've spent my life huntin' the cruel, finding them in different states and dead end alleyways. But still that one case sends shivers like death up my spine. Think of a lion; blood covered maw snarling inside of a cage it called the world, now take this lion and put him in a field full of gazelle. What will you get but a slaughter? That's what that man was to the world. Just a lion in a field of waiting gazelle. “ - Aristead Solace

“ Sometimes the heroes, they think their villains because ya gotta break a few commandments to stop the sinnin' man, and we call ourselves regretful devils. But we're just human, huh? And that's what made all the difference." - Aristead Solace

"Humanity. Kind one moment. Cruel the next. “ - Varkens Willowbrook

“ I have come to learn that there is an evil plaguing this world, it's wrapped in barbed wire and gunfire violence, the rage within sitting heavy in the open chest. And it goes by the wicked name of humanity. But simply because humanity is wicked does not mean that all of humanity is wicked. You'll find the kind ones somewhere waiting for you; but you are sure to find the wicked man often in a world that operates on kill or be killed. “ - Varkens Willowbrook

“ I believe that this world is kind despite the bad apples in the barrel; though those few bad apples started to rot the rest of the seeds within; the water roaring with the infection that came with the sin. Unfortunately just one bad apple effects the whole barrel. So one bad man effects the whole population. “ - Varkens Willowbrook

“ Somedays, the wolf; he wins. He trots around my ribcage victorious as can be, but that's when he gets cocky, when he begins to get careless. So the half-winged angels in me swoop down like a reaper's scythe and banishes the wolf to the locked door in my mind; where all the horrors go to starve. “ - Salvatore Graham

“ Ever since my father first laid a fist against my mother's cheek justice breathed through me as if I were a vessel in which it could see. And I told justice that I would dare not go blind. “ - Salvatore Graham

“ I pick up this blade; knowing one day I must turn it on thyself. “ - Salvatore Graham

“ Oh you know me; just a child of the old night sky, singing the blues as sorrow passes me by with a mournful sort of smile, knowing I'll come back around to her place in a day or two. “ - Franco Jonwitz

“ I'm just cigarette smoke chasing trouble.” - Franco Jonwitz

“ I take this old hat from off my head and read the poems that've been scribed in my ribcage, sadness following the words and prose I speak to the empty night sky. I've been a boy of sorrow ever since ma and pa became graves, moving along to an old orphanage with the scent of sadness wafting from off my papa's old, white suit jacket, hands and tears hiding somewhere in the fabric of that coat. I hold pieces of him inside of my heart, pieces of my mother hidden inside of my smile; and I guess there's sumthin' beautiful about that, huh? “ - Franco Jonwitz

“ I must confess, I've named a few of the stars after the ghosts that follow me, praying that they can fly up to the sky and find Heaven. But here they remain in my mind; reminding me that with sorrow comes trouble, and with Franco Jonwitz comes the inevitable idea that death kills before ya die." - Franco Jonwitz

“ War rains heavy over the weary soldiers who didn't make it past the gunfire; the ones who survived selling themselves to this ideology that their sins were for some greater good. But trouble etches its way into the bones of all whom pulled a trigger in the name of glory, sin or their own self gain. “ - Terminus Hydra

“ I lost everything, my friend, so a sin I became. “ - Terminus Hydra

“ Random acts of violence are often the ones that drive a man halfway to insanity, and the acts of violence he chooses to commit are the ones that drive him the full mile. “ - Terminus Hydra

“ I am a bad man. Dare not let my past tell you otherwise. If the people I knew where to speak of who I was they'd say he was a loving man who didn't let his tragedy define him; but speak to my enemies and they'll spit my name like venom on their breath. Two men tell two very different stories. My father would say I am a man of honor, but an old friend would call me the serpent to his corrupted and decaying garden of Eden." - Terminus Hydra

“ These scars on my legs tell the tale of a girl who lost herself too early; and it seems I can't hide my history from peering and bloodshot eyes. “ - Mayell Da Ville

“ My son tells me that one day, when I realize that who I am is beautiful despite the scars I'll find the wings had always been in my mind rather then on my back. But these scars, these horrific scars; they prevent the wings from growing ever again. “ - Mayell Da Ville

“ Here lies Mayell Da Ville; the ghost who found life too late. “ - Mayell Da Ville

“ There's a wolf on my shoulder; snarlin' at the frontlines and tellin' me ta stain my rifle in the blood of the innocent, and with a grin dancin' with moonlight I head inta the shadows and play myself a little game of huntsman and the lion. “ - Dekiah Doorvenstail

“ My father raised me ta be a killer. You should expect nothing but the bang of my rifle. “ - Dekiah Doorvenstail

“ Once you get blood on your hands it begins ta grow like a garden in your chest. But there's sumthin' different about this haunted little flowerbed. You begin ta realize that your ribcage was once Eden, but slowly, as the blood trickled down your fingers, Adam and Eve started fleein', the angel of flamin' blade nothing more then your heart that slowly faded ta black and grey. And as the serpent slithers onta your shoulder, you begin ta realize temptation lives in the hearts of all man kind. And only a special few accept their primal urges ta become nuthin' but a slaughterhouse on a cold Sunday afternoon. “ - Dekiah Doorvenstail

“ We were never wolves, my friend. But fragile people with hearts that can break and minds that can scar easy, but dare not turn to the shadows for comfort. They hold a dagger in one hand; and they hide it in the crevices of their darkness.” - Sabu Thorn

“ I think that if one is to find peace within themselves, they must first find peace within their scars. “ - Sabu Thorn

“ Eons ago I lost my mind.” - God

“ They say that dead men tell no tales; so who will whisper the tale of humanity once I'm done with it? “ - God

“ Everyone's always saying God's not dead. He's with us he's with us! But as I come down from my heavenly throne; the blood of humanity staining my shawl of lies and secrets; you'll pray that I am. But all your prayers have fallen on listening ears friend; and yet they never come to fruition, do they? “ - God

“ In the face of evil; silence is compliance.” - Gustave X. Van Velk

“ They don't tell you that the fall is so easy. They don't tell ya that we're all one crooked grin away from violence; so I take a steady step forward and throw a fist or two towards the evil that sits violent in this town of unwelcome shadows. “ - Gustave X. Van Velk

“ I've always tried to understand the enemy; walk a mile or two in their shoes, but Milos' boots are just too damn heavy and stuck in the muck of his powerful identity. “ - Gustave X. Van Velk

“ My sanity peels away in whispers and shadows.” - Cartniza Harvester

“ The word safe is such a fucking lie; no one ever is. “ - Cartniza Harvester

“ I don't know why this heart beats like a slowly rotting flower.” - Mackton Stoneshire

“ They say this Queen of madness is a revolver's shadow standing above peace; and she is. Because as she walks down these halls my bones shiver with shadows and things you could never dream of. Because she's a nightmare in the head of the weary; grinning deviously before she sins another deadly sin. And as my eyes shift to the checkered floors of this old mental ward; I know she can sense my fear. “ - Mackton Stoneshire

“ I'm still stuck under these shadows that fog my mind; heart roaring empty in the ribcage of a coffin. “ - Rupen Schello

“ I can still remember the night flames erupted inside my home; they now flash like colored lights in my memory, my parents' smiles becoming nothing but a shadow I can no longer follow. “ - Rupen Schello

“ A man with a memory can never be free of his torment.” - Rupen Schello

“ Every choice I ever made led to the death of who I am.” - Mervin Gavinwood

“ I never meant to fall; but I was born with the belief that I had wings, and so I leapt from blinding heights expecting to soar. “ - Mervin Gavinwood

“ The day I killed a man is the day I died. As his skull cracked against the bar stool; groaning and dying in the most grotesque way who I am started bleeding from the corners of my eyes as those two devils beside me laughed and laughed and laughed. “ - Mervin Gavinwood

“ He sits in the edges of my memory like a crow just waiting for his murder to come on along.” - Mervin Gavinwood

“ I've just been trying to cope with this loss of who I am for a long time; clinging to memories of him like a blanket that keeps me warm. But there's holes in this wool blanket; letting the cold settle into my bones. “ - Carol Corin

“ I weep for a life never lived; a death already fated. “ - Hexi Moorenfowl

“ Every detective has got her case, right? The one that drives her halfway to insanity because things just aren't adding up. I tried so hard to find those girls, I tried so hard to find that man's wife. But in the end it was a cold case that never went warm. “ - Maryland Fainrick

“ Mysteries often end in tragedy.” - Maryland Fainrick

“ I woke up in a foreign bed wondering why a stranger looked at me in the mirror; that was when I died an unfamiliar death. Falling from the heights of a Heaven I never deserved. “ - Kiddy Wendellburn

“ I choked on who I am a long time ago. And I don't think I can ever swallow my truths; because they taste so fucking vile. “ - Kiddy Wendellburn

“ "When you realize who you are, it's your job to become that person. “ - Adrella Soderit

“ We're all dreamers trying to find our happily ever after despite the nightmares that find us in the light; but don't you think it's the way we react to this darkness that defines who we are? “ - Adrella Soderit

“ So do me a favor and accept yourself won'tcha? Even when everyone around you condemns who you are. Even if you gotta keep that acceptance a secret in a little jar until one day, you can let those torch bugs fly into the open air." - Adrella Soderit 

“ I don't know what one would call him. But he feasts on the sacrilege of identity and flesh, sinking his teeth into innocence as if it were a divine, juicy, blood dripping steak. I'm just the remnants of the girl I used to be, and as I remember his parched tongue against my skin a shive runs cold down my spine and my fighting instincts kick in. As if my mind is a clock forever running backwards. Minutes and hours mixed into a relived past. “ - Marlia Ferotosia

“ I remember his smile. Filled with teeth and unkempt flesh. “ - Marlia Ferotosia

“ I listened to her sorrows. Her troubles. Her secrets and confessions. But she was torn from this world much too early. And that is a sin a man like me can never forgive. “ - Zack Mordell

“ The old soul is supposed to fade before the young one. But fate is a very cruel mistress; dancing with those who don't know the rules to the deadly tango. “ - Zack Mordell

“ I'm a fading symphony wondering when my last notes will play out into the wind, but I keep singing. “ - Zack Mordell

“ Healing will come after the scars stop bleeding, so a little word of advice, don't stab those dagger like thoughts into your skin. “ - Cordemlia Munstwain

“ Some people say they aren't themselves, and I get that; sometimes it's difficult to admit that we're changing. Difficult to admit growth feels uncomfortable in the hurting mind. But eventually you'll grow into this new you. You'll find that it's often like a scab. It only forms to protect ya from the infection a wound leaves. “ - Cordemlia Munstwain

“ Some people say love at first sight don'it exist. And, I don't fink' it were love at first sight. But love at first spoken word. Love developed inside da poetry we spoke underneath da dyin' lights of the street. He's a broken man, but I built 'im new pieces and told 'im ta shimmer and shine like a star in the night sky; and it feels as though when I put a lovin' finger on 'is cheek dat he's started ta feel more human. As if 'e's no longer a whiskey stained ghost. “ - Daubellia O’Snair

“ Fate twists in some awfully strange ways, huh? You could be a normal, everyday girl, fighting hardly noticeable battles and then in the blink of an eye tragedy rips through the air like a bullet in your fucking teeth. “ - Alexia Hathorn

“ Sometimes you gotta make a choice. Live or die. And sometimes you'll do both.” - Alexia Hathorn

“ We're the scar ridden angels of Heaven, soaring on wings stitched with different pieces; like a quilt of many colors. We're not heroes, just people who got caught in the crossfire of a world roaring with evil. “ - Alexia Hathorn

“ Often people in pain's mind is fogged up from the hurt, and so they don't really know what they're doing, ya know? “ - Hispania Hopva

“ Death I've learned, stalks the living. “ - Hannisada Gravewit

“ You can't really cure addiction. It walks beside he or she who used. Like a ghost that doesn't know when or how to move on. Is it really that much to ask for a halfway decent mind? One that doesn't taunt me with the idea of one more fucking high? But I suppose it was my choice to accept that little baggie at a party, right? It was my idea to get addicted, right? That's what they always tell ya. They call the junkies and ghosts monsters of society, but damn it man, we've been victims all along. “ - Hannisada Gravewit

“ I tried to hide my scars under thick coats and heavy blankets, but I bled and soaked through those. So now here I stand. Naked and awfully vulnerable to my demons and ghosts." - Hannisada Gravewit

“ His insanity ripped me from my backbone when I was only a child. I can still remember the violence shattered between his knuckles, the anger on his cigarette snarl. I still remember the screams. The God awful screams. I've been trying to dream for a long time man, but these nightmares always plague the boy who never lived. The boy who never had the chance, to live. “ - Jonathan Enders

“ I just, I don't know how to escape these nightmares, man. Because that man's cruelty echoes in my mind; his smoke whispered anger booming through my thoughts. I was just a kid, man. But he stole that option from me when he put a bloodied finger to my lip and whispered that he was never here. Or when that old, boney skeleton beside him clasped two hands around my shoulder and whispered in a low, harsh voice that they were the boogeymen. And I believe that. Because the boogeyman is what goes bump in the night, right? And if there's anything that could be considered monster, I'd give the definition to them.” - Jonathan Enders

“ I take a fragile breath, hoping it doesn't rip through my throat like a bullet. “ - Jonathan Enders

“ I fought myself for such a long time only to realize the reflection had always been a friend. “ - Baila Von Cascia

“ Ya know how fate works, right? Ya meet one or two people and your whole world unravels. Sure. They're good people. You learn that they've become family somewhere along the road. But the villains you met alongside them just isn't worth it. “ - Joshua Houstella

“ I have fallen down this rabbit hole of oneself, gripping the roots of madness.” - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ I am nothing short of a sin. Nothing short of a monster masquerading as a woman. “ - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ This heart of mine has whispered in sin and death ever since my mother told me all of her secrets, the closet looking like a welcoming home where Narnia and all the lions would protect me. But fantasy has never been as cruel, and unpredictable as reality. For reality hides until the right moment. Waiting. Forever waiting. And one day it snatches you so unaware and drags you through the nightmares. Oh you may kick. You may scream. But you'll most certainly succumb. “ - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ Forever my friend, can last only a second as the white rabbit once said. And forever, has lasted too long for my angel." - Ingretta Shazowlla 

“ I speak my truths in barely audible whispers, screaming my lies at glass shattered levels. “ - Molly Chain

“ My lonely little mind is slathered in grey and blue paint, memories glossed over with thick layers of dark color. I've tried to peal away that wallpaper. But there's endless layers in this house, and I just don't know how much strength I've got left. “ - Molly Chain

“ There's blisters on my strength, and I fear I'm about to slip. “ - Molly Chain

“ All my life I've been afraid. Of myself. Of my father. Of the shadows that hid like monsters in my closet. And as I come to the realization that I will never escape my mind, I know that this is who I am. And she's such a broken girl. A wisped shadow of something great. “ - Clarice Sanchez

“ I honestly believe God started typing me up, but he left to work on something greater and left me an unfinished piece of poetry, as if my prose bleed into the way fate unravels and twists. “ - Clarice Sanchez

“ My peace of mind bleeds from the holes in my heart. “ - Clarice Sanchez

“ From what I know cruelty is the last guillotine, and we're just whittlin' down the rope, wonderin' when it'll snap and fall down on humanities head. “ - Leone Kassophic

“ God's voice is echoed through violence.” - Leone Kassophic

“ If my sins were tangible, would I bleed upon contact? “ - Darkin Vagabond

“ Truthfully I am not me. Just a graveyard symphony ringing like the funeral bell, revolver held in one hand, regrets held feebly in the other.” - Darkin Vagabond

“ I look to the star painted sky and wonder what prayers he's been answering, which whispers screamed the loudest. “ - Zelene Clifforde

“ I am a lover at heart, wishing poetry and words spoken could heal the damage of war. And truthfully, that is the only way to stop a war. You speak to the enemy with a certain understanding. You try to discover who they are past the violence shattered between their bruised and bloodstained knuckles." - Zelene Clifforde

“ I am a gentle soul at heart, but alas, I sharpen my claws and go to war like a sinner who doesn't know when to quit, like an old, tattered wolf who wishes to quit all the bloodshed. “ - Yngvir Alvisson

“ Often I wonder if this heart should just quit feeling. Quit letting the blood stain it like a memory that shalt not be forgotten. But I pick up my heart, and I shove it fragile and broken back inside my ribcage. For to become a beast, my friend, is the loneliest achievement of all. “ - Yngvir Alvisson

“ Way I see it. Hate is a revolver. These men and women fill their chamber with all the good pieces of themselves, firing off for a cause that never mattered, something that shouldn't even exist. “ - Jaspello Crosshair

“ In every sense of the word I'm the hero I needed when I was a kid. “ - Jaspello Crosshair

“ Take life one step at a time, second by second, minute by minute. Eventually the storm will pass you by. Sometimes it feels as though you're not gonna make it, but that's the kind of thing tragedy whispers, it tells you lies in an attempt to weaken your resolve. “ - Chris Shaw

“ Debby and I treat life like a workout. We breathe in. We breathe out. We face it head on and don't let the idea of pain stop us. “ - Chris Shaw

“ I was just a farm girl lookin' for a happily ever after, but that wicked and damned man stole the light from me layer by layer. It's as if he carved pieces 'a me off 'a my skin, whisper by whisper, sin by unnatural sin. “ - Ellen Duster

“ There's so many pieces 'a me missin' nowadays. “ - Ellen Duster

“ Redemption is a sunset, and it jus' don' ever rise." - Ellen Duster

“ I tried to build a paper boat and drift away from my prison cell, but the storm started howling in my mind and I fell off the side, clutching the paper rafts and oars, wondering why this is how life drowned me. Some men drown in whiskey. Others drown in sorrow. But all I ever drowned in was the tragedy of being someone I'm not. “ - Isaac Abernathy

“ If a lie fits the powerful man's agenda, he'll do anything he can to make that lie a truth, or at least make it appear as such. “ - Jacob Abernathy

“ I can still remember how that man told me that we'd save the world together, that as the bombs started going off, we'd be the men history looked at and said, "Well done, heroes, you did it." But as I watched the world fall asunder, my heroes heart fading into a broken one, I knew that all the man did was lie to my good nature, and it was on that day, unaware, I bit into the sacrilege of false revolution. “ - Jacob Abernathy

“ I was just a girl without shadows in her mind until I stumbled into a rabbit hole of Godhood and the way blood spills on the arena floor. And as I fell, little pieces of me being carved off by the blade of a malicious God, I knew that I must have more of this undying pleasure. “ - Sonata Vickowinter

“ I'm just a broken bottle angel who forgot his wings on the downward descent.” - Ash Caesar

“ Often I say I'm better off dead, because this man I am is hardly worth a damn, let alone two cents and a nickel, so I glug down another bottle of whiskey and let my little sister down one more fucking time. “ - Ash Caesar

“ I always say I'll change, but everyone else is running a marathon, and here I am, standing stagnant at the starting line. I dare not cross that line in the sand. Because I'm scared of the regret, the shadows, the way my mother's words echo in the ones I scream. “ - Ash Caesar

“ Truth is, I can still remember the way my mother's open palm felt against my cheek, or how her wine glass felt shattered against my noggin. But those glass pieces of her addiction bleed into me. “ - Ash Caesar

“ All I see in the mirror is a man who fell so cruelly away from himself, and as my sister reached for my hand, I let it slip. And all she could do was watch as this regretful Icarus laughed in the flames." - Ash Caesar

“ I have found, that I am the single black rose in the garden, sitting idle like a warning of what will come if you step towards this black petaled beast, this decaying flower of cruelty. “ - Madam Stephanie Rose

“ I am a tired beast. “ - Madam Stephanie Rose

“ I was once in an empty room. Love knocked, oh how she knocked gently, so softly. As if it were a song that whispered into my ear. But hate drove her away. He knocked, he knocked, oh how rage filled his fist boomed against the door. With tears rolling down my cheeks I let him in. He stole the blankets from off the bed and wrapped them around my throat, choking me with the violence inside of my heart. And ever so cruelly, I became a black, withered, and deadly rose." - Madam Stephanie Rose

“ I sink ever familiar into this garden of decay, praying that someone will save me from the blood on my hands I speak of like darkened poetry. But death, was never a story. Only a harsh sin ridden reality I've given to so many others. How strange is it, that death is the end of reality, but also one in of itself? “ - Mike Duster

“ I'm a man of many sins. “ - Mike Duster

“ I slowly flay myself from my own skin, screaming, forever screaming. I carve another layer of me from off my skin. I subject myself to the meat hook and try so desperately to bleed all the darkness from the crevices of me, but alas, to bleed myself from the darkness would be to bleed all of me away. For all that runs through me is dark, twisted and unfamiliar. “ - Mike Duster

“ The truth, does not whisper, my friend. It screams.” - Ava Callenwillow

“ Secrets stick to me, and more often than not they take over my identity, pulling me into the depths of another shadow, another mystery with my name written all over it. I've been running from fate for a long time, finding ways to avoid this noose around my neck for years, but one day the stable ground beneath me will collapse. And I'll be nothing but history. “ - Ava Callenwillow

“ Wherever I go, death tends to follow like a loyal wolf whom sits at my bedside, howling to the blood red moon that is my wicked and decaying heart. “ - Tezilda Vaxweed

[frostsinth]

Deals with Demons - Pt. 5

Prologue | Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |  MasterList

What part is this? Part 5? I’m so lost. I forgot which part I was on. Still not entirely convinced I counted them right.

A fun little continuation with a bit of magic play and hopefully revealing dialogue. A little NSFW at the end. As always, thank you for your continued support, and please comment and reblog! I need it for food as I can no longer afford any. All the best!

“Gods, I hate this place.” I growled.

Standing on the balcony, looking down at the courtyard below, each tainted memory of my life here filtered back up to my consciousness. My days as an initiate, forced to kneel on the hard stones under the hot sun for hours on end for the sake of “devotion” to the Gods. I still had the scars on my shoulders from the burns. Being made to polish the stones with nothing but a rough rag until my knuckles bled as punishment for not seeming enthusiastic enough at prayer. How many times had I been turned out of the meal hall for not appreciating what I had been given? How many nights had I spent shivering in the flowerbed, unable to feel my fingers or toes for not being able to recite psalms perfectly?

Now, a few of the Sisters hustled quickly back and forth across the courtyard below. Perhaps oblivious to my watchful eye, but still seeming terrified. I turned my head slightly as I sensed Abhilash shifting in the shadows of the doorway behind me. He leaned against the stone frame, crossing his arms over his chest. Watching me as I watched the Sisters below.

I turned my attention back to them, and saw another small group skittering towards the garden, looking about nervously. They still wore their habits; white dresses that covered them from ankle to wrist, and a head scarf wound about their hair and necks. I saw a few pulling at the fabric uncomfortably, and felt anger bubbling in my stomach again.

I raised one palm, imagining in my mind’s eye an entirely different garment. One that was not rough and scratchy, but instead soft and breathable. I imagined bare arms and ankles, and hair spilling free. I imagined it to be adjustable; to be worn in multiple ways instead of one singular, un-encompassing, unflattering shape.

The women below squealed and jumped in surprise, dropping anything in their hands as their clothing shifted on their bodies. I reached out with my magic, feeling and sensing the rest throughout the Abbey. I heard a few distant shouts that echoed my success throughout the halls.

Within seconds, the Sisters all donned a new uniform; soft fabric that wrapped about their bodies. I found I could sense the comfort of each if I reached enough, and willed the magic to loosen or tighten the cloth appropriately. Many of the Sisters had a preference for pants, though some preferred to retain their long skirts. Others had a blend of the two. I draped long, billowy scarves around their shoulders which could be worn to flow behind them as they moved or pulled up to loosely cover their heads should they so wish.

Then I closed my eyes, and focused my magic on the darkness filling my vision. I imagined that pristine white bleeding away. Replaced by black. Like ink spilled over their clothes and slowly spreading, staining the fabric. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the Sisters in the courtyard staring down at their bodies with wide eyes as the image in my mind played out over the clothing on their bodies. The courtyard cobblestones were splattered with the things they had been holding. Baskets upturned, food and laundry spilling out. I smirked at the image of confusion and dishevelment.

They looked about anxiously, then a hush fell over them as one by one they looked up and spotted me on the balcony. I slowly brushed my raised hand through the air, and turned my attention to the Abbey itself. I remembered the blood dripping down my knuckles and shoulders, splattering onto the cobblestones. I remembered being made to clean it. A futile effort, for each movement simply spilled more. I reached out again, feeling those stones across the entirety of the Abbey. Remembering the way they felt beneath my hands, knees, and feet. Sensing every single one. Then I bled upon them again; and as I watched, a pool of red clay formed in the center of the courtyard. It began to spread, slowly at first, then faster, like a wave of water spreading across the stones. The Sisters backed away at first as it swept towards them, jumping up fearfully as it reached beneath their feet. I watched the color follow the cobblestone path, snaking under the covered hallway. Felt it slip through the halls and stain each stone.

I looked at the light grey stones of the walls, and remembered staring at them for hours upon hours. Locked in my room, or forced to face one for my disobedience. I remembered every speck and molecule, every crack and crevice. I reached out my consciousness again, feeling the stone against my palms. And I imagined it warping. Changing. Opening up the dark hidden alcoves of the Abbey. I felt my magic burning inside me, filling me to the brim and searing like molten lava beneath my skin. Threatening to burst out of me as if I were an erupting volcano. But I controlled it. Cooled it beneath my concentration. And sensed the buildings around me changing.

The rock shifted and rumbled. The whole Abbey seemed to quake as it moved. Gone were the smooth edges and flat walls. Gone were the tiny windows and secret rooms and narrow halls. I spread the rock wide, shattering and breaking open new windows. Spreading the hallways wider, stretching the ceilings higher. Sharp and pointed railings rather than rounded and smooth. Archways where there were squares, pointed roofs where there was round. Sharp, gnarled points formed along the top edges of the buildings, shaped and carved into beautiful accents. Buttresses and ribbed vaults, clustered columns and abulatories. Until the once simple and dull little Abbey was an absolute breathtaking marvel to behold.

My anger stained the walls, just as my blood had stained the cobblestones. The light grey stoned darkened to ash with patches of dark clay accents. The dusty red roof tiles darkened as well, becoming more polished and crisp like fresh painted lips.

I dropped my hand and looked at my handiwork, leaning against the new stone railing in front of me. Breathing in shallow, subtle little breaths. The dark ash and sand stone walls, the blistering red roof tiles, the dusty dark clay cobblestones. Complete with huge windows, jagged edges, and sharp points. Yes… certainly an improvement. Hardly recognizable at all. Much more befitting for my purposes.

The Sisters turned slowly in place, looking about with wide, awe filled faces. They were hunched, fearful, shocked. And I relished that achievement. Their eyes turned back to me, and I saw many emotions flickering across their faces.

I found Treya among them, and could see her swallow heavily as our eyes met briefly. Then she bowed, first just her head, then more deeply at the waist. The other Sisters saw her, and followed her lead. I smirked, pleased to see how quickly they were learning. And pleased with Treya leading them there.

With a final flickering thought, I cast a sash from Treya’s left shoulder down to her right hip and around her back. She gasped slightly as it fluttered about her, jerking but still keeping her head bowed reverently. Her hand reached up and touched the blood red sash, then I saw her clasp it over her heart and bow a little deeper. Understanding my intent. The other girls looked at her with their mouths slightly ajar. Then dropped a little lower.

When Treya chanced another glance up at me, I nodded my permission, and she slowly rose, speaking softly to her Sisters. They too rose out of their bows, keeping their eyes down, and began to pick up the courtyard. I turned slowly to make my way back inside. I had to wrap my arms about myself to keep them from shaking.

Abhilash reached out as I approached him, steadying me with a large hand on my shoulder when my knees wobbled. His beady eyes studied me, blinking in succession.

“You used too much.”

“You think everything is too much.” I tried to scoff at the notion, waving away his words. 

Instead my legs gave beneath me. The demon caught me before I hit the ground. Tucking his hands under me, he scooped me up into his arms. I lay against him weakly, breathing in his smoky scent. Luckily, we were already out of sight of prying eyes, delving deeper into the newly reformed Abbey. It would belittle my powerful display if any of the Sisters saw me suddenly so helpless.

“I must say, I am impressed, My Queen,” Abhilash told me as he carried me down the long upper hallway, “Most mortals would be consumed and destroyed by the magic you just wielded; especially without proper training.”

I remembered the power that had coursed through my veins. Remembered the feeling of molten magic bubbling just beneath the surface of my skin. I believed him.

“Would you have let me?” I asked, my stomach twisting slightly for fear of his answer.

I didn’t hear his chuckle, but felt it against my consciousness. I closed my eyes, leaning closer to that mental warmth of his presence. Feeling strangely comforted by it.

“No.” He replied simply. “No I would not. I was watching over you, My Queen. Should you have tipped too close to the edge, I would have pulled you back.”

I nodded slightly, and relaxed into his arms. I let my mind open, and felt his own swirling alongside mine. I carefully studied it, feeling it meld in and out of my conscious thoughts. Fleeting flashes of emotions and impressions that I recognized as memories. More formed lines of thoughts. And always, that ever present hunger. Gnawing away inside him. I pressed a question to him, wondering at my own current limited power, testing our connection. I felt his answer, felt his promise. But couldn’t quite put the fleeting sensation into complete words. Still, it felt like the answer I wanted, and my lips curled into a tiny smile.

I was physically quite weak, and as he shouldered open the door to the Inner Sanctum, I barely managed to open my eyes to look about us. The fires that had consumed the wooden pews the night before had died out, leaving only coals and ash behind. The grey particles shifted and tumbled from the piles as the demon’s heavy steps shook the floor. I watched quietly, feeling numb and distant.

Slowly, he brought me up to the warped throne at the top. He sat in it himself, cradling me in his lap. His flames licked about my hands wrapped around his neck, and my head fell back against his shoulder as I tried to turn to look up at him.

“How do I heal?” I asked him out loud, my voice soft and wavering.

He chuckled, and I felt it move in his chest beneath my cheek. “You are not injured, My Queen. Just drained.”

I shook my head. I didn’t like feeling like this. I missed the power, the strength. I leaned heavily against his presence, longing to feel that way again.

“How do I replenish then?”

“You can rest. As long as we are bonded, the magic will return by itself in time.” He explained, and I felt his mouth next to my ear then as he curled around me. “Or, you can take some more.”

“How?”

His essence enveloped mine, wrapping up my consciousness in his internal fires, and I felt the warmth licking at my core. I enjoyed it, my toes curling, my mind melding even more with his. And I felt his hunger again, chewing at the corners of my consciousness. Blowing on the embers of my own desire sitting in the pit of my stomach. I let a deep breath billow out from my lungs, spreading the feeling throughout my body.

“I can feed,” He murmured against my ear, “And you can replenish from me as I do.”

I blinked slowly, and ran my hand down the side of his face. “I am too weak now to be a good meal.” I said bitterly, tracing my thumb under his smaller eye.

Another chuckle, and his tongue darted out, skimming his lips. Turning his head to align our faces and leaning down. 

“No, My Queen. You are tired. Not weak. You are never weak...”

As he pressed his lips against mine, I felt his hunger flare in my own chest. Burning and setting my building desire ablaze. Smoldering in my breast and pulsing beneath my skin like jolts of electricity. It warmed me, and I felt strength returning to my limbs. I curled against him, pressing into his body as his hands wrapped around mine. He ran one large hand up my back, sliding along the silken dress I wore, massaging between my shoulders.

I straightened, pulling my legs in. Feeling emboldened by his kiss, I turned, resting one knee on either side of his thighs on the bench. Straddling him as I settled back to sit on his lap. The position made us level for once, and I pulled out of the kiss to meet his many eyed gaze. His grin spread from ear to bat-like ear, and he hitched my skirts to drag up my thighs. Allowing our hips to touch skin to skin beneath.

My breath shuddered when it passed through my mouth as we brushed together, and he licked at my lips with his long tongue as if to catch its escape. Then he turned, nudging my face to the side and tracing along my jaw to my neck. His teeth nipped at the skin there gently, and I felt one of his hands move to cup my ass and slide me closer to him. Grinding me along his length.

I ran my own hands back along his skull. Playing my fingers through the flames as he buried his face in my neck. His hands worked and massaged me between them, and I felt myself growing hot beneath his touch. He licked and sucked lightly at my neck, and I let my head fall back to expose more to him.

His growl felt good against the skin of my throat, and the vibrations in his chest made me shudder with anticipation. His lust mixed with mine, until I couldn’t tell one from the other. Both burned hot, and filled my chest to bursting. I felt my face flush, felt my core flex and tighten as the ache settled in my loins. I sensed his nose twitching, smelling my arousal. He growled again.

The demon pulled back, catching the back of my skull in the hand that had been at my back and bending me to face him once more. I barely had time to acknowledge the movement before his mouth was pressed back against mine.

The blackness enveloped me almost instantly, and stars spun about the edges of my vision. I lifted up, free and weightless again, floating in this strange space. I felt it pulse around me, spinning and twisting. Filling me with the addictive bliss and euphoria. I relaxed into the essence, and turned, acknowledging the other presence there. I reached out to it, feeling it reaching out to me this time. Like thin wispy threads connecting us. I could feel him drawing from me now, but felt unhindered by it as I recognized the power I had drawn from each time before. I pulled it to me, hungrily taking as much as I could manage. A tickling sensation at the back of my mind gave me pause. An amused warning. I felt a flash of a memory brought before me, and recalled the last time I had drawn out too much of this power.

I gave whatever passed for a sigh in this strange place, and relinquished my feverish grip upon the power source. I felt a familiar chuckle rippling around me, and half turned to try and sort out what I could of the blackness. He seemed to navigate through here. Could use it to draw on my memories and my emotions. He fed on them here, and I could access his stores of power. Why shouldn’t I be able to “move” as he did then? With a little practice, of course. Better than simply floating in blissful euphoria, subject to whatever he felt I deserved. I sensed his amusement again, and his affirmation of my thought process.

But then I felt sinking, and slowly fell back into my body. Like water being poured into a glass. As I returned, I felt myself melting against him, tucking my body into his chest. Curling my arms around his neck. I breathed out a wave of pleasure, and sunk into the last of my physical form. Not nearly as filling as the last few times I had been pulled into that realm. But satisfying for now. I could already feel myself much stronger than before.

“Just a taste,” I felt him croon against my ear, and his tongue lapped at my earlobe, “We’ll save the main course for tonight.”

I smirked, agreeing with him. I reluctantly leaned back, meeting his waiting gaze again. He reached up one big hand, pushing my hair back out of my face. His smaller eyes glanced down to my lips, and the tip of his tongue flicked along the edge of his mouth. I could still feel his desire, his hunger, curling around my own. I enjoyed it for a moment, rubbing my thumb along his jaw, staring deep into the dark abyss of his eyes.

“That’s better.” I murmured, internally stroking the replenished magic in my veins.

And it was. None of my previous weakness lingered. I was grateful for that. I did not like feeling so helpless. He grinned at me, and his large ears twitched slightly as my other hand moved over one. I felt his thoughts tickling at me, but couldn’t quite fathom them as well as my own yet. I wondered if he was the same, or if perhaps experience had allowed him more understanding of my consciousness. He watched me studying him quietly for a long time.

“What’s next, My Queen?” He asked finally.

I brushed my hand over the back of his head, watching the flames shift slightly beneath my touch. “Next, I need an army.”

His grin grew by a few molars. “What sort of army did you have in mind?”

“The devilish kind.”

Abhilash laughed, and leaned in to nip at my chin briefly. “Where did you get such a notion?”

“The Abbey’s library has few tomes on the subject, but those it does speak of subdemons. Minions of evil, I believe it called them.” I told him, then wondered briefly if I had been misinformed and was making a fool of myself. But his excitement lapping at my consciousness made me decide I was not. “I would summon them, to guard the Abbey. To be ready to fight whomever may come calling at my door.” I continued eagerly.

He nodded. “A wise choice, My Queen. They are called grumons, lesser demons of the higher planes of hell.” He explained. “They are not powerful on their own, but in a swarm? Quite formidable.”

I slowly eased back, sliding off his lap. “Are they easy to summon? To control?”

“I can show you how, it is not difficult,” He replied, his hands lingering on me even as I stood before him, “And they are quite loyal to whomever summons them; as long as they are powerful enough.” His grin returned. “Which you certainly are.”

“You’re in my seat.” I told him, crossing my arms over my chest.

He laughed, amused. But rose obediently. Standing face to face with me, I had to crane my neck back to look up at him. I was reminded again just how big the demon was. His broad shoulders were nearly twice my width. Hell, his thigh was almost as large as my torso. His great horns matched the width of his shoulders, and his entire body was finely sculpted muscle that flexed powerfully with each movement. But he stepped lightly to the side, offering my seat to me. I smirked, understanding he did it more from amusement than any true subservience. But that suited me fine. I sat, crossing one leg over the other.

“Are they intelligent?”

Abhilash shrugged, slowly pacing around to stand at my back. His hands reached out, settling on my shoulders. “They can understand an order, and can follow simple tactics.” He said, slowly beginning to work his strong fingers against my muscles. “I wouldn’t make one a general, but they make excellent foot soldiers en masse.”

I leaned my head back against his chest, enjoying the feeling of his hands working on my shoulders. “How long can they stay on this plane?”

“As long as you need them.”

I considered that, turning it over in my head. It seemed a good plan. And would certainly lend credence to the image I was cultivating. I didn’t imagine I would have very long until the first adventurers came knocking at my door.

A thought suddenly occurred to me, and I frowned. I felt Abhilash’s fingers slow as he sensed my shifting focus, but he waited patiently for me to voice it.

“Is this common?” I asked curiously.

“What, My Queen?”

“This. You and me.” I rubbed my fingers over my chin. “I have never heard of a human and demon working together like this before. Do your mortal marks often ask your advice? Take your counsel?”

His answering chuckle rumbled against me. “No, My Queen. Most mortals do not trust my words. Certainly not enough to actively seek my counsel.”

I traced my consciousness around his, working our minds together. “Should I trust you?”

The demon considered that, and I felt his thoughts palpably as he turned them over and over in his mind. Again, I couldn’t quite shape them into words, but I felt confident we were too bonded for him to lie to me now. I would know if he did.

“Most mortals who make a deal with me are desperate.” He began finally. “There is something specific they need, and I am simply a means to that end. Their end will come swiftly, and they know this. A final surge of great power before they pass into the next world.” His hands began massaging my shoulders again. “Others believe themselves above demons; they treat us as slaves or merely weapons to be used and cast aside as the need arises. Try to force us and bind us to their will. They take only the barest minimum, always careful not to strengthen our pact. For they fear allowing me to become to strong, or have any power over them.”

I thought about this, considering my hands in my lap carefully. “And me?”

His thumbs rubbed against my spine. “You… you are different.”

“How so?”

He seemed to be struggling to find the words, and I felt him breathe a soft ‘hmm’ as he searched for them. I let the silence stretch, waiting patiently. Finding I was curious more than afraid.

“You do not fear our bond, but instead embrace it. Our desires are more compatible,” He said, “What you desire and what I enjoy go hand in hand. It allows for a … stronger relationship. A deeper, more intimate one.”

I almost laughed. “I believe you just implied that we are a couple, Abhilash.”

I felt him bending down behind me. “Are we not, My Queen?” He purred in my ear.

His voice sent a shiver down my spine. But I considered his words, even if he had meant them in jest. I had no experience with such things; growing up in an Abbey did not exactly allow much exploration of intimacy and relationships. I ran my tongue over my lips, then shook my head. Now was hardly the time to allow myself to be distracted by such things.

“We are a partnership.” I decided. “Whatever else our relationship, it is mutually beneficial to both of us. In equal measure, I’d like to believe.”

He nibbled at my ear, and I reached up and pushed him away patiently. Feeling his amusement brush alongside my own.

“You have a dark heart, My Queen. Your soul is sharp and hardened. And any demon would enjoy serving you. I have not met a mortal of your like before. I enjoy your hunger, your greed, your ambitions. They are both delicious… and familiar.”

“So you are saying we get along so well because I am more like a demon than a mortal?” I asked, finding myself more than a little amused at the notion.

His laughter echoed around the room. “I suppose I am, My Queen. But I am certainly glad it is my mark you wear.” He nuzzled back against my ear. “I am greatly enjoying our… partnership.”

I reached up, resting my hand on top of his. “Oddly enough… I am too.”

...

UPDATE: Part six HERE

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