#but I'm holding onto that hope with a lot more grip strength than necessary

[thealienkidtm]

[Warning: Ejen Ali salt] Alilicia needs some work

I feel like there's more accounts of Alicia hurting Ali more than times she's been nice to him. And while some of it is deserved, others are just pure on excessive?

Like that time in Misi: Protocol Gegas where she straight up traps him in a gravity field and left him there WITH ENEMIES ROAMING AROUND while saying that it would be better for everyone if he left MATA OR the multiple times where she's punched him in the face with full force EVEN AFTER HE SAVED HER LIFE THAT ONE TIME?

Do people really expect Ali to just FORGET ALL THAT, move on and reciprocate her feelings??? Because I've been told something similar and it still hasn't left my mind. Imagine that with a 12 year old, geez.

It's like the opposite gender version of the "Oh he's bothering you a lot so it must mean he likes you!"

And while we do get glimpses of Alicia slowly getting a crush on Ali, we barely have any of Ali getting a crush on Alicia. (and no, I'm not taking account of that time in Misi: Seri, that boy did not know it was her)

I saw someone comment on his reaction about Alicia being called his girlfriend and someone said he's too young to understand or that he's dense and I'M HERE TO TELL YOU THAT NO, HE'S WELL AWARE OF WHAT A GIRLFRIEND IS (JUST LOOK AT HIS UNCLE'S HOPELESS ROMANTIC A** BEHAVIOUR FOR DAMN'S SAKE) HE'S JUST NOT INTO THE IDEA AT ALL

Ali looks uncomfortable here tbh and I don't blame him

To be honest, Alicia's not really good at the feeling's department or when it comes to comforting/relating to someone with their issues I'm looking at you, Ejen Ali the Movie and your audacious "MATA is your family" bullshit. I don't blame her however, it's pretty realistic for her character but she does need work in realising that her words of "caring" needs some awareness.

Also, even if we do eventually get Ali liking her back, I think they need to settle their tension and talk to each other about what exactly they are. (Are they partners? Acquaintances? Friends? I don't think even they're sure what they are)

I don't think Ali likes Alicia like that at all. We do see that his behaviour has become so mellow that he's willing to admit his mistakes and face the consequences while also opening up more to his friends and take up on their advice/criticsm (like we see him do with Rudy). Which is great! So great that he's even willing to try and get closer to Alicia as better friends.

However, I think that for him to even start liking her back, I feel like Alicia needs to start being nicer and talk to him more as well so they could have a more thoroughly established and grounded friendship instead of her AVOIDING HIM ALL THROUGHOUT SEASON 3💢

[masterqwertster]

Thanks again for doing my last prompt! I have been rereading it for days, and will continue to revisit it everytime I need some fluffy H/C. ❤

I hope you don't mind me throwing a couple more prompts from the list your way. (Exact quoting of the prompt isn't necessary - I'm more about the spirit of it. Also, bonus points for hugs on either of these.)

#5. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

In the last episode Orym said something about the group falling for Ludinus' trap, "Especially me." Ashton almost interrupts to disagree, but doesn't end up saying anything in the moment. I'd love for Ash to follow-up on that part of the conversation.

#11. "Just hold onto me."

Ashton goes over the side of the airship. Orym uses Seedling's vines to Spiderman-swing in and catch them, but Ash is heavy, and Orym's Strength Stat isn't very high.

Thanks again! I've been enjoying your prompt fics a lot. 😁

You're welcome! It's always nice to hear that something I wrote is getting lots of love. Gotta say, I'm not really feeling the 5 idea, but 11 sounds like fun (think I'll slip the 5 quote in anyways though😉). Though Bells Hells' airship privileges were revoked after they crashed the last one😝 Luckily, Ashton and Orym have recently been in an area with cliffs to accidentally fall off of... Prompt

The problem with being small, Orym has found, is that it's unfortunately easy for someone larger than him to pick him up and throw him. If they manage to get hands on him.

Today is not his lucky day, and the earth elemental they're fighting has managed to get its large, stony mitt around him. Orym's pretty sure if its got anything passing for tactics, its going to throw him off the nearby cliff. Which is going to suck, but Seedling still has magic for the day. If his luck isn't complete dogshit, Orym might even get the Grasping Vine fired off before the arc of his launch takes him below the cliff edge so that he can reel himself in to the clifftop, instead of having to attempt climbing back up.

Of course that little plan goes to shit the moment Orym impacts something hard with enough force to knock them both off the cliff.

A quick turn of his head reveals Ashton, vibrating at speed with their red and blue ghost-images. It's an immediate and instinctual thought that he cannot let Ashton fall. Not again. If the genasi survived, it would shatter them in more ways than one.

"Grab on tight to me!" Orym shouts over the rushing wind, reaching out a hand.

There's that breath stealing second where their fingers just miss each other... but the second Ashton has a grip on him there's a disorienting blink in which he goes from facing the wide-eyed barbarian to suddenly being pinned against their chest, head tucked beneath their chin.

Luckily for the both of them, Orym's held down back-to-chest, so he's still got a clear shot at the cliff face for Seedling. He just needs his arms free.

"Need my arms-!"

In a split second Ashton's arm is repositioned over his chest with his arms atop it. And they must have stored the hammer too, because a second stone arm is pythonned around his stomach. ...It's going to take some getting used to, dealing with Ashton's extreme speed mode in close quarters.

Still, there's no time for Orym to waste either. So he takes Seedling in both hands, aims as far up the cliff as he thinks the vine can reach, and prays to Serataani he doesn't miss as he fires off the Grasping Vine.

Their luck holds, turning the outward curve of their fall into a pendulum swing toward the cliffside.

...Though the yank that turns their downwards momentum into the horizontal swing threatens to pull Seedling from his grasp. Or his arms from their sockets. And Ashton's panicked squeeze to not fall loose from the shift in direction doesn't help with it's crushing force on his torso. The cursing Orym can hear just above the wind is mere background noise at this point.

Orym also hadn't thought as far as the quickly approaching cliff face and their immanent impact with it. The problem with not falling all the way down is that they still have to come to a stop somewhere, and deal with the cessation of all the momentum they've collected.

Ashton seems ready for it, though, twisting them around so that his back will impact first. Which is probably a good thing, since Ashton can take physical hits like nobody's business in a rage. Though Orym's not sure how much cushion a stone body can provide-

The answer turns out to be some cushion, but probably not as much as a normal, giving flesh and blood body. The harsh impact makes Orym start to loose his grip on Seedling as it jolts through his already straining and throbbing arms, jerking the hundreds of pounds hanging from him.

Just as he fears they will continue to fall because of his slipping grip, the pressure around his abdomen vanishes. A jade arm now clings to the vine, pulling them both up. It relieves the strain on Orym's arms as all the weight of Ashton is now held by the vine and the genasi's grip on it while Orym's own weight is now supported by the arm across his chest, leaving only the shield strapped to his forearm and Seedling in his fading grip to weigh upon his arms.

"That fucking sucked," Ashton huffs into his hair as they dangle.

"Yeah," Orym gets out in a strangled voice. The pain of his arms is really starting to set in now that he doesn't have the immediate worry of them falling to the bottom of the canyon.

Ashton rolls to the side with a grunt, pulling up his legs to brace against the cliff face, taking some of the weight off his arm. It's not that bad for him to hold them up with one arm, especially with as light as Orym is, but climbing will be a whole fucking lot easier if he can walk up the cliffside a bit. All he needs to do before they get going up is get Orym into a position that frees his other arm.

"So how badly broken are your arms?" they ask, adjusting their grip and position a bit. When Orym doesn't immediately answer, they tack on, "Brutal truth, okay? Gotta know what we're working with."

Orym lets out a shaky breath, drooping over Ashton's arm. "I'm barely holding on to Seedling," he softly confesses.

"Okay. How's you leg strength?"

"What?" Orym weakly questions.

"Leg strength. Do you think you could hold onto me with your legs well enough to free my other hand for climbing? I think I could maybe make it up one-handed, but it'd be a real bitch to do," Ashton explains, experimentally winding the vine around his forearm while trying to take a step up.

"Oh. Uh. Pretty good. I think?" Orym shakily answers. And fuck if the spaciness Orym seems to have going on doesn't have Ashton worrying about shock or some shit going on with the little fighter.

"Alright. Let's get you flipped around then. And fucking hold on tight. I'm barely going to feel it with this going on," they say, tilting their head to show off the red and blue light show as if the constant temporal vibrations running through their body aren't indicator enough of their rage being up.

Ashton brings a leg up so his thigh is perpendicular to his waist and slowly lets the halfling slide down his torso so the little guy is straddling his leg. He gets a hand on the back of Orym's shirt to support the fighter's balance through the turnaround, then loops his arm back under small arms to pull Orym back up to where he was positioned before. Little legs clamp over his ribcage, a reassuring pressure as tired arms flop over his shoulder for a loose grip behind his neck.

"You good?" Ashton asks, flexing their arm grasping the vine to give Orym a taste of what he's going to have to hold on through.

"Yeah, let's go," is the tired mumble in his ear as Orym's chin hooks over his right shoulder.

It's a slow movement to release Orym from their direct hold, an unshakable worry that the halfling won't stay up without their support. But the muscled little legs don't falter in their grip on their ribs.

"Okay. We're good. Okay," Ashton reassures himself as he gets his second hand on the vine, shoving off the foot he'd braced Orym's turnaround on to start their ascent.

By no means is this the worst climb Ashton's made. The vine makes for a good belay line and their connection with earth and stone guides their feet to the best support positions. It's a little trying on their arms, but fuck it, hauling up their own ass is always a bit of an ordeal, and Orym's miniscule weight isn't even worth the breath to complain about. Really, the one big worry they've got is if Orym's going to manage to hold on long enough to reach the top, because if he drops, Ashton's only going to have a small window to catch him before he tumbles out of reach. And that's assuming the vine doesn't disappear with its halfling conjurer, sending them plummeting too. Honestly, the worry helps keep the adrenaline flowing for their battle rage. Which, they could let it fade, but the absence of their chronic pain and the accelerated perception and ability to move would be a fucking shame to lose right now.

It doesn't take long with as fast as Ashton's moving right now to reach the top of the vine, which is still a good distance from the lip of the cliff.

"Hey, Orym," Ashtons says, jostling his shoulder to grab the halfling's attention. "Can we get another vine anchored higher up?"

"Ah, yeah," Orym says absently, twisting around to see where in the climb they are. "But... I think I'm going to need help aiming. My arms are... bad. I don't think they'll hold steady. Sorry."

"Don't need a fucking sorry for getting hurt in the process of saving our asses," Ashton breezily counters. If Orym hadn't held on, they'd probably both be splatted since Ashton's brain had been too focused on the seemingly inescapable fall to understand what the fighter had been doing.

"Um, what's going to happen to this vine?" Ashton follows up with, realizing it would be bad to lose his current anchor before the new one is in grasp.

"...I don't know. I don't usually pay attention to them once I'm done," Orym quietly answers.

"Okay," Ashton nods, considering the rock before him. "Give me a second."

He reaches for that sense of earth and stone in him, and like with the petrified skeleton, lets himself merge with the stone before him. Once he's got a hand sunk in and anchored, he releases the tension of the vine, testing his unconventional grip on the cliff. Thankfully it holds, even if it feels strange as fuck.

New grip established, Ashton reaches back for Orym's arm and Seedling, being as gentle as they can with the tiny, damaged arm. A whimper reaches their ear, earning a stream of mindless apologies. They don't want to hurt Orym more, but needs must because Ashton doesn't think he can merge with the stone long enough to reach the top.

With Ashton's hand engulfing Orym's on the hilt of the blade, they manage to aim up the cliffside. With a short countdown, Orym wills a new vine into existence and Ashton removes their hand from the stone to clamp onto it as soon as the vine anchors into the cliff. By some miracle, it's only five or ten feet from the lip. It's a bit hard for Ashton to tell from this angle, but he knows it's close. Close enough to not have to put Orym's battered arms through establishing a new line again.

"Just a little further," Ashton murmurs, feeling a nod in acknowledgement against his neck.

Ashton takes the final ascent as fast as they feel is safe, ever mindful of the small body clinging to their chest and the risk of him coming loose. In the end, it's still pretty fucking fast with their increased time flow. When they reach the end of the vine, they use what little energy they have left for merging with stone to get within reaching distance of the top.

"Sorry, this is probably gonna hurt," Ashton tells Orym.

Then they grab the back of the halfling's armor, easily peeling him off their front, and toss him up over the edge, back onto solid ground. They think they catch a slight whimper and oof above them. With a final surge of their arms, Ashton hauls himself into a roll over the lip of the cliff, not stopping until they have a good arm's length between themself and the edge. Which just so happens to be right next to where they managed to toss Orym. Funny how things work out like that.

"We made it," Ashton pants out as their rage fades, flooding them with exhaustion.

"Yep," Orym simply agrees, his own breathing faster than normal.

"Ashton! Orym!"

They're both assaulted with an armful of fussing, trembling Laudna. She holds them close as her spindly arms can pull them.

It's a good fucking group hug.

And a little lesson for y'all here at the end: catching your own bodyweight on just your arms with significant drop momentum like this is hell on your arms and runs the risk of dislocation and/or hyperextension. Adding more weight exacerbates the risk. Adding weight well beyond your lifting abilities should practically guarantee it. If it doesn't, like, rip your arms off. Halflings are listed at an average weight of 40 pounds. I'd bump a fully armed and armored Orym to about 50 pounds between equipment and muscle density. Ashton is low-balled by Laudna to be at least 450 pounds on their own (I personally low-ball them at 500 pounds). Their hammer looks to be about 2 cubic feet of slag glass, which is maybe 50 pounds per cubic foot, making the hammer 100+ pounds because of that plus the long metal haft. As I always say, Ashton is a heavy boi. So yeah, as cool as Orym's Spider-Man Grasping Vine deal is, it's actually a really bad idea for him to try and catch falling people many times his weight with it. Because if by some miracle he doesn't just drop them/get dragged down with them, his arms are at serious risk (which healing magic can fix, but if it's left too long- not good). So that's why I have Ashton pretty much immediately take over holding them up: if he doesn't, they absolutely will drop because Orym's arms simply can't support all that weight. (There's a reason Spider-Man can't just be copied off of only his equipment: anyone without super strength and an inherent durability for that strength would bust their arms to uselessness in no time) And this isn't even getting into weight logistics of what a magic vine can support and at what tension it will snap. At least in part because the spell description just says "creature" with no specifics on size-based resistance/immunity when it comes to dragging things, just a DEX save.

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Dabi x Sister! Reader

TW: yandere, incest, no con, voyeurism, choking, burning, unprotected/no prep sex, breeding/creampies, snowballing, public sex, degradation, lots of dirty talk

AN: WHEEWW my first fic in a while, so excited for my first join intro collab!! thank you to the lovely jo for writing it <33 enjoy

A BNHarem Server Collab! Check out the other works here.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

Christ, what a load of bullshit the news was nowadays. Constantly whining and squealing about what heroes did and didn’t do, promoting fear-mongering like it was the hottest trend. Between your father and two older brothers dedicating their life to the cause of justice, the world always felt just a little safer to you, the naive little thing that you were. And tonight was no exception.

Despite the rapidly increasing crime rates, your judgment to grab a couple of drinks in the city with your friends was hardly swayed. The stress of it all was getting to you and you’d love nothing more to drink your heart out at one of the few spots still left open. It was a sleazy place, but it was fun. If anything, you found a bar in the area where your eldest brother was currently stationed patrolling.

Touya had always been protective of you ever since the two of you were children, and he carried that same possessiveness well into your adulthood. Always chasing off any potential suitors, keeping you out of trouble, and generally being a menace to anyone who thought they were good enough to be around his favorite little sister.

By the end of the night, stumbling around drunkenly was the only thing keeping you upright as you made your way out of the club and onto the street, looking for a taxi to get you home. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, a mess of blue and red lighting up the darkened streets.

“Hey sweetheart. Need a hand?”

Grubby hands met your arms the same time the cool air of the night did, tugging and pulling at you to come closer, wherever that may be. Jaunts and laughter echoed off the buildings, only adding to the haziness the alcohol induced. “What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all on your lonesome?”

Weak attempts to push the group of assaulters off you were in vain as they groped and squeezed your body at their pleasure. “Come on, we’re just trying to keep ya company. Right, boys?”

“Stop..”

Your whine came across much more pathetic than you could have ever hoped, only earning more chuckles from the men. “Just relax, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

Blue flames danced around the group of you, closing the lot of you against the building wall in a small circle of fire.

“Will you now? Last I checked, I'm the only man suited for that.” Touya was less than amused to have found out from Fuyumi that you traveled into the city given its state, even more so when he saw how drunk and disorderly you were being.

“T-Touya-nii!”

The men untangled themselves from you with ease, tossing you into the arms of your expectant brother, who was more than glad to pull you into a tight embrace. “Shit! It's the number three, Heatstroke!”

The comforting warmth of his body and scent of his cologne settled your frantic nerves, tucking yourself closer into his arms. “Honestly, it’s like you're asking for it at this point.”

Your heart sank low in your chest, but you couldn't find the strength to move away from him as he scowled down at you.

“Look at what you're wearing, you little tease. Bet you would have loved to have them violate you, huh slut?”

Never has Touya been so venomous with you before; it made your heart hurt, even more, to see your beloved nii-san be so cruel.

“Don’t you worry, that’s why your big brother is here to show you who you really belong to.”

Shoved against the wall, he pinned your trembling form with his right knee in between your legs and his hands wandering over your skimpy dress.

“You boys can stick around to watch; let a real man show you how it's done.”

Flames singed at your dress, burning it to ashes to expose you in the cool wind of the night. Hot fingers pressed into your skin, littering marks in their wake before they wrapped around your throat. “You were just begging for nii-san to come to save your slutty ass, huh, princess? I know you checked my patrol schedule before ending up at this dive.”

His hand tightened around your neck, his lips at your ear. “Wanted nii-san to come put you in your place, yeah? After fuckin’ teasing me all these years, you finally cracked me. Are you proud of yourself, little girl?”

A whine slipped from your constricted throat, your smaller hand gripping at the large one squeezing you with everything it had. “And now you've got an audience to witness my ownership over you. You're mine, little girl.”

Finally releasing your throat, his hands traveled down to your chest and groped at your roughly, pinching and pulling at your soft, sensitive nipples. Bile was rising in your throat as you drowned in your own fear, feeling him drag you into the depths of depravity.

“What’s the matter, imouto? I thought you said I was your favorite. You're hurting my feelings, y’know.”

“Touya, please-”

A scoff slapped you hard in the face as his knee jerked up against your cunt. “Don’t start with me. I know who you really are and what you really want, even better than yourself.”

His words stabbed at your heart, and his wandering hands only seemed to pour salt over the wounds. “You’re nothing more than my whore, little sister.”

Hips ground against your backside in a slow, teasing manner, groans pushing past his lips as he did so. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His erection was pressed flush against you, straining in his pants before he unzipped himself. At this point, you were more than sobered up running on fear and adrenaline alone. Your panties were ripped clean off with his free hand while the other stroked his hardening cock. “Look at me.”

The tip was aligned with your hole, rubbing slightly to gather the minimal wetness between your lips. “I said look at me.”

Teary eyes peaked up at him through wet lashes, silently pleading with a man who was not known for mercy.

“Good fuckin’ girl, so obedient for your big brother.”

With one snap of his hips, Touya fully sheathed himself inside of your tight cunt, groaning at the way you squealed for him. “Aw, you like that, huh, princess. Feeling good?”

A warbled moan was the only response you could give him as he slowly began to pull out. The alcohol had you buzzing enough to block out the pain of the stretch, and damn did you feel filled to the brim.

“Can’t wait to breed this greedy little cunt of yours.”

His pace was slow, agonizingly so. Touya couldn't help but savor every second of the first time having been inside you, especially after dreaming about it for so long. God, if it didn't turn him on to have an audience, knowing that these men knew he was fucking his sister.

What would the media think? God, the news cycle would be ripped to shreds tomorrow over this breaking story. But hey, no PR is bad PR.

The thought of finally having staked his claim in you almost had him coming prematurely, but he had to hold out for your very first time together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Heh, your crying face was so cute. Those tears weren't shy by any means and neither were your sobs. It's alright, you’ll learn to love being Touya’s cocksleeve.

“Say you love me.”

An impossible request when you're being violated by the person you held dearest to your heart.

His pace had picked up brutally, slamming into you without care for his flames spreading wildly nor the group of assaulters who seemed to vanish once they had the opening to.

“I-I love you, nii-san! I love you!”

Your cries were shrill and whiny, echoing into the chaotic night. The grip on your hips was heating up, so much so that his handprints were burned into your love handles.

“Good girl, good little slut.”

His breathing was erratic, hot against your neck as he growled and grunted into your ear. “Gonna let nii-san breed this pretty little pussy? Yes, you are. I know you are because you're fuckin’ mine, bitch.”

Moaning out your name, Touya came deep inside your womb, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides. You were soon to follow thanks to his thumb against your clit, causing you to writhe and whine in his arms.

Utterly spent, you rested against the brick wall you were pinned to, feeling the cum drip out of your still filled hole.

“Let’s get you home and into my bed, princess. I gotta go have a chat with Dad and Shouto, let ‘em know you’re fully off limits now.”

— tagging: @libiraki @bonesoftheimpala @tomurasprincess @sightoru

[blueeyedheizer]

under her wing - castor

WARNINGS: sickness, mention of needles, talks of death, violence

A/N: holy shit. I've had this fic in my WIPs for officially a year now. 🥴 It kinda sucks that no more than 5 people are going to read it but oh well... you get used to it 😂 It's my longest fic so far (4,4k words) I hope it isn't too confusing for those who haven't seen the show, I tried to keep it light on the characters and specific words used in the show. Some parts (ending included) might be a bit rushed cause in all honesty, i lost interest in this fic and ran out of inspiration so...yeah sorry about that but I really wanted to post it anyway :)

•••

"The boy's loyalty is impressive. But he's getting worse, and we're getting nowhere." you heard Nathaniel say as you placed a cold cloth on the boy's forehead, hoping for his fever to cool down a bit. You couldn't help but let your eyes explore his features as you took care of him. A couple of scars traveled across his cheeks, and his neck was covered in black veins contrasting with his pale skin. His eyes were closed, but you remembered them being some of the brightest blue you'd ever seen. He looked almost delicate despite the ferocity of his soul. Your eyes then wandered on his chest. About a dozen needles were pierced on it. The Widow said they were a necessary precaution, as the gift made him dangerous. You dipped the cloth back in the cold water before spreading it over his forehead again.

"I take it my regeant has a suggestion." the Widow continued, interrupting the small silence that had filled the room.

"Cut off his head, and send it to Pilgrim. Punishment for raiding the camp." your head shot right up.

"What?!" you left the boy's side to face Nathaniel, a look of horror on your face. "He's just a boy, Nathaniel. We're absolutely not killing him." you spat, emphasizing on 'absolutely not'. The room went silent for a moment and you scoffed, averting your eyes from Nathaniel to glance at the Widow. "Mother, say something!" you pleaded, throwing your arms in the air to show your frustration. She remained silent for a moment, pacing around as she thought of an alternative.

"We could use the boy's devotion as a weapon to weaken Pilgrim."

"The man's a zealot, we need to send a clear message."

"I won't let you do that, Nathaniel. Everything doesn't always have to be solved with cutting heads off. You'll have to find another way." you crossed your arms over your chest, well determined not to let him have the last word on this. The Widow's pacing came to a stop and she sighed.

"We're keeping him here for now until he gets better." she continued, looking at you. "If he ever does. But he's under your responsibility."

-

The same day, Cressida showed up to the Sanctuary and, as expected, threatened to attack if the boy wasn't given back to Pilgrim. After lots of talking, arguing and being on the verge of fighting, all four of you eventually agreed on a deal. Three of the widows' Butterflies were to be temporarily sent into Pilgrim's army in exchange for you to keep the boy and take care of him for a strict amount of time. 4 months, nothing more, nothing less. And if the boy dies in your hands, the Butterflies die with him.

You were the one who suggested the deal in the first place. You saw Minerva and Nathaniel's eye widen when the words left your mouth, but you felt like this had to be done. Something about the boy was intriguing, and you needed to know more about him.

The Widow had given you the order to take him to the small spare room she had originally got built to keep M.K. locked. You were against the idea of locking him up at first, but you couldn't push aside the fact that he was a Dark One, therefore much stronger than you and a potential danger to you and everyone else.

You let him get some well deserved rest and came back two hours later to check up on him.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside before carefully locking it again behind you and walking towards him. He was finally awake, lids still half closed as his sickness got the best of him, tiring him out mercilessly. You stared at him for a moment before speaking up.

"How are you feeling?" he didn't answer. Not with words anyway. But his cold, hard glare told you that he wasn't planning on getting friendly with you. You took a sit on a chair nearby, resting your forearms on your lap.

"Tell me. How does Pilgrim control your gift? I saw him turn it off." you stated, your eyes meeting his.

"You think you know about the gift? About us? You know nothing." he spat. "Pilgrim was chosen."

"By whom?"

"By Azra." You stayed silent for a moment and frowned, stunned by how brainwashed he seemed to be.

"There's no such thing as Azra." You barely managed to get those few words out before he suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you down in one swift movement, rolling over and pinning you to the bed, the side of his forearm over your throat as his other hand held a blade flat against your cheek leaving you helpless.

"You know nothing about us, about Azra. About what we're fighting for." he insisted, speaking through gritted teeth.

"I may not know everything...but there is nothing beyond the Badlands." you retorted, your heart accelerating. You were well aware that the knife was still dragging across your cheek yet you were brave enough to let the words out. "This is the only ground left on earth. This...thing Pilgrim calls a safe haven, it doesn't exist. He's lying to you." You hissed, crying out when the blade pierced your skin slightly. "What do you think will happen when you're gone? He's using you, because he's nothing without your power." you continued. You could feel your face start to redden from the lack of oxygen "Just think about it." you whispered, his eyes staring dead into yours. You swallowed thickly, trying to turn your face away from the knife.

"He already found my replacement." The tone of his voice caused your expression to soften slightly. He seemed defeated, it was as if he knew his life was already over and the only thing he kept fighting for was his faith in this so called safe haven. You could tell his hands were shaking, and he was having a hard time holding himself up with his arms. A few more seconds passed by and the pressure on your throat loosened, allowing you to breathe somewhat properly again.

"I'm just trying to help." you continued in a much softer tone. "Your fever's getting worse, you won't make it if we let you go now. So please, let me help you."

Before any of you could move, you were interrupted by a shout of your name. Nathaniel and Minerva suddenly burst in the room and within just a few seconds Nathaniel had Castor on the floor with both hands around his neck.

"Nathaniel stop!" you managed to scream as you sat up and held your throat, trying to catch your breath. Nathaniel wouldn't let go, his grip on Castor tightening as he fought to free himself from his grip. You jumped from the bed, landing on the older man's back, trying to push him off the boy. "Enough!" you screamed. "Let go of him!"

"He was trying to kill you, Y/N !" Nathaniel retorted, finally letting go of him.

"I had everything under control!" you said as you helped Castor on his feet, letting him hold onto you for support. You glanced at him and had to fight back a gasp as you noticed his state.

"You're bleeding..." you said as you moved your hands to his cheek, lifting his face up to inspect the source of the bleeding. "Lay back down. Come on." He was shaking, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he coughed. He reluctantly complied, laying back on the bed and wiping the blood off his nose.

As soon as the boy was laid back, the Widow placed a hand over your shoulder, turning you around so you could face her.

"Are you okay, did he hurt you?" she asked as she cupped your face, inspecting the small cut on your cheek, but you swiftly pushed her hand away.

"I'm fine."

"Y/N, you have to understand—"

"Look at him, for God's sake!" you suddenly yelled, startling everyone in the room. "Look at him, and tell me this boy currently has enough strength to actually hurt me." you spoke more calmly this time as you pointed to Castor. The single effort of holding himself up above you had drained him of his strength. He was breathing heavily with his eyes closed, his cheeks wet from both sweat and a few tears that had escaped the corner of his eyes. Minerva and Nathaniel were rendered speechless as they both stared at you, not knowing what to say. They didn't seem to understand why you were so invested in taking care of him, and to be completely honest, you didn't know either. There was just something about him that made you want to keep him safe.

You shook your head and scoffed before walking over to the bed and grabbing the wet cloth from the bowl, spreading it back over Castor's forehead.

-

The next day, you decided to pay him a visit early in the morning. You had woken up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep, your mind constantly going back to him. You had so many questions. What was this safe haven he told you about? Was there actually something beyond the Badlands? Why was the Gift so harmful to him if he was born with it? Your brain simply wouldn't shut off.

You greeted him politely as you opened the door to the small room, once again making sure to close it behind you.

"You can't keep me here forever." he said, not bothering with niceties. "Pilgrim will come for me. And when he does you won't live another day." the boy spat through gritted teeth, causing you to chuckle slightly. You ignored him.

"Did you get any sleep?" no answer. "I'm not your enemy, you know." you said, looking at him over your shoulder as you sterilized a needle. "I mean, technically, I am. But I really don't want to be."

"You knocked me out and kidnapped me."

"I also saved your life. And for the record, you punched me in the chest until I was left coughing blood on the floor. That makes us even." you continued. "Why don't you tell me your name?" you asked. Cressida had already mentioned his name but you wanted him to tell you himself, as a sign of trust. He didn't answer though, which caused you to sigh. "Well, I'm Y/N. If it weren't for me your head would be laying at Pilgrim's feet as we speak." he didn't say anything. Instead he pulled harder on the chains that were wrapped around his wrists and started to move around, trying to find a way to free himself.

"You're going to hurt yourself. You should save your strength." you said, flicking the needle before turning around and walking towards him. He fell back on the bed with a defeated sigh and gulped hard, his face contorting in what looked like worry. Or was it fear? You couldn't really tell. He closed his eyes, chest heaving up and down heavily. You frowned when you noticed his sudden change of demeanor. "Hey, hey. Calm down." you tried to bring him some comfort by placing your hand on his forehead, wanting to check his fever at the same time. He clenched his jaw but didn't complain. His forehead was still burning and you tried not to show your concern, not wanting to worry him more than he already was.

"What's in this?" he wondered, nodding towards the needle, the cracking of his voice destroying his attempt at sounding confident.

"Something I hope will help with your fever." your eyes met and you sighed. "Look— the chains weren't my idea. I was against it. But after what happened yesterday the Widow thought that keeping you chained would be safer for me. But I promise I have no intention of hurting you." you spoke. "I might even take them off, if you cooperate. I only want to help you get better." You stated matter of factly. Castor scanned your face in search of any indication that you might be lying, but all he saw was genuine concern. "Do you trust me?" you asked. He stayed silent for a moment before nodding slowly. He was in so much pain, he really had nothing to lose. You nodded your head back at him and moved, ready to stick the needling in his arm. "Ready?"

"Yes."

You smiled softly, trying your best to get him to relax as you prepared the injection site on his shoulder. Castor looked away and winced a little when the needle was inserted, but you were quick to pull it out after it was emptied, the medication being easily injected into his body.

"All done." you smiled as you held a compress on the area, wiping off the tiny spot of blood before throwing it away. "Now get some rest. It'll probably knock you out for a while."

"Wait." he interrupted as you were about to leave, causing you to turn to him.

"My name. It's Castor." you smiled.

"It's nice to meet you, Castor."

-

You came back everyday for the next several weeks, repeating the same process. You tended to his wounds and gave him the medicine he needed to ease the pain caused by the Gift. Castor was still reluctant at first, and it went like this for a couple more days until he warmed up to you and eventually trusted you fully.

It would be safe to say the two of you became close, much closer than either of you would have ever expected.

-

"Y/N, may I speak to you for a moment?" The Widow asked, peeking from the door to your room. You looked up from your book and nodded before motioning for her to come in. She noticed Azra's book in your hands and took a seat across from you. "Can you read it yet?"

"No. Nothing about this book makes sense." you sighed with a shrug, handing it to her. She nodded but didn't say anything. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms across your chest as you rested your back on the head of your bed. "I suppose this isn't the main purpose of your visit."

"You know Castor won't stay here forever, do you?" she told you.

"I know. Why?"

"You won't see him again once he's gone." she insisted. You sighed softly, rubbing your face with your hands.

"I know that too, Mother."

"I'm not blind to the feelings you have for each other. But I need to make sure you know this thing you two have going on can't and won't last forever." she spoke softly, reaching to take your hand in hers. You nodded and gave her a small smile. There was no point avoiding the topic or lying about it.

-

Castor's recovery was going great, you even started to believe he was close to being completely healed.

But that was until his fever suddenly spiked.

You didn't know how or why it happened so suddenly. One day he was completely fine, the next he was laying almost unconscious on the bed, his breathing uneven as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Y/N...I don't think there's anything else we can do for him." Tilda spoke softly, her hand resting on your shoulder comfortingly.

"Yes. Yes we can. We need to bring a doctor, they'll know what to do. This is what we should've done since the beginning." you spoke firmly, applying a cold cloth on his forehead, your own breathing becoming uneven as your anxiety grew.

Castor whined and mumbled something unintelligible as more tears fell down his cheeks. He slowly moved his head to the side, his tired eyes meeting yours, silently begging you to make the pain go away.

"You're gonna be okay. I'm right here." you cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing it softly as you looked back at him, a tear escaping your eye.

"Quinn murdered our only doctor, Y/N. You know that."

"Then bring the doctor's daughter! She'll know what to do." you looked over your shoulder. "Tilda, please, I can't...—" you inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you spoke. "I can't lose him. Okay?" you admitted in a whisper.

Silence fell in the room, only the sound of Castor's breathing filling it.

"Y/N...I really don't think that's a good idea." Tilda watched you with a pained expression. At those words you tried to keep more tears at bay, but your efforts were vain.

Tilda knew how close the both of you had grown, but most importantly she knew you had already lost way too many people in your life. With a small sigh, she eventually took her final decision before exiting the room.

"I'll see what I can do."

-

[Time skip : two weeks]

As soon as Tilda walked in the room you rushed to her and wrapped your arms around her neck, hugging her tight. She had done everything in her power to get Castor the help he needed, persuading the Window to get in contact with Veil. Both women had a long discussion about it and The Widow had to do a lot of convincing but thankfully, Veil agreed on offering her help.

After days of intense treatment and sleepless nights, Castor was finally out of danger.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this." you whispered, holding her close.

"You're welcome, Y/N. I'm glad he's okay." you smiled at her, nodding before pulling away to give Veil the same grateful embrace.

"Thank you, Veil. I owe you."

"It's nothing. You did a great job at keeping him alive yourself. He probably wouldn't have made it this far without the medicine you gave him." she pulled back and looked over to the sleeping boy next to you. You smiled and nodded slowly, thanking her one last time and bidding her farewell as she left. Tilda followed, leaving you alone with Castor.

You sat on the chair next to his bed and took his hand into yours, holding it while you waited for him to wake up, which he did after about 10 minutes.

"Hey." you smiled, reaching over to cup his cheek, softly stroking his scars. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." he mumbled as he tried to sit up, wincing as he did. His head was still hurting from the heavy medication.

"Hey, easy." you placed a hand on his chest, easing him back down. Castor groaned, eyes closing as his head fell back against the pillow. Moving from your sitting position, you poured him a glass of water and then returned to his side. "Here."

Taking the glass from you, he only took a few sips before already giving it back. After that, a small silence settled between you two.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you murmured. He didn't answer immediately, seemingly deep in thoughts.

"Why are you so good to me, Y/N? When I first got here, you never tried to get revenge for what I did to you. You've always been here for me, taking care of me when I never did anything to deserve half of it. Why?" you smiled, looking down at your hands.

"Because I believe you're not like Pilgrim." You stared at each other in silence for a couple seconds.

"He took care of me when no one else would. He's a good person, Y/N."

At that you chose not to answer, not wanting this to grow into an argument since Castor was always quite defensive when it came to Pilgrim. Instead you just smiled and squeezed his hand, letting him know that he would always have you.

And before you knew it, it was time to let him go.

-

Sitting by the window, you watched as everyone got ready for Pilgrim's arrival.

"Are you okay?" a voice interrupted your thoughts. Nodding, you quickly wiped your wet cheeks and put on a smile, holding your arms close to yourself.

"Yeah."

Castor smiled sympathetically as he took a step closer, crouching in front of you to try and meet your gaze. He was doing much better than the past weeks. His skin had regained its normal color, his eyes were brighter than you'd seen them before. And after a long, exhausting fight, his fever was gone for good, and he was ready to be sent back where he belonged. You lowered your head, only for him to tenderly lift your chin.

"As soon as we find Azra..." he started, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I'll come back for you."

"Castor..."

"I know. I know you think there's no safe haven. But I promise you it's worth believing in."

"Cas...even if you do find Azra, Pilgrim will never let me through. I've never had faith in it, and I still don't. We're supposed to be enemies." you gave him a sad smile, reaching out to brush your thumb over his cheek.

"I'll find a way. You're my family now, Y/N."

You ran a hand through his hair, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead and nodding against it. Your eyes were tightly shut, a couple tears falling freely.

"Castor, Y/N..." the Widow's voice interrupted. "It's time."

-

You felt Castor's hand brush against yours as you walked side by side, then your fingers intertwined. The two of you walked close to each other, making sure no one could see them.

With one last squeeze, he let go of your hand and walked over to Pilgrim. The older man pulled him into a fatherly embrace, his face filled with relief and gratefulness before pulling away.

"Thank you for taking care of my son and bringing him back to me." Pilgrim spoke, looking at you then the Widow. You nodded politely before glancing over to Castor who was now greeting his sister, Nix. You had to fight back tears as your eyes met one last time. You nodded at him with a bittersweet smile before turning on your heels and walking away.

-

6 months later

It was the third time in three weeks that the Sanctuary had been attacked. You were still completely clueless as to who you were fighting against, but after so many attacks in such a short amount of time they sure had something against the Widow. It was something you were used to though, and you considered yourself lucky that other clans were here to help because without them most of your people would've been dead by now. The losses were heavy this time, though. The enemy had great advantage over you and a dozen of your people along with those from the helping clans had been killed or badly injured.

You were gathering the bodies when you were startled by a familiar voice coming from behind you, causing you to still. You waited an instant before turning around, your eyes searching for the source.

And then you saw him.

"Castor." you breathed out, a smile spreading over your lips as you made your way to him. As soon as you made eye contact you lunged forward, dropping what you were doing and throwing your arms around his neck with a relieved laugh. Castor's arms immediately found their way around your waist wrapping tightly around you as he pulled you close. You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, your thumb rubbing underneath his eyes and down his cheek, tracing his scars with your fingertips.

"What are you doing here? Why— Why didn't you come back sooner?" you asked in a bittersweet tone.

Your questions were left unanswered as he pressed his lips against yours, his hands immediately moving to cup your face. You were taken aback at first but eventually you gave in, closing your eyes. You lips comfortably moved in sync, allowing the kiss to last for a moment. Now was probably not the best time for this to happen, but you couldn't care less.

"He killed Nix." he murmured after parting from the kiss.

"What?"

"Pilgrim. He killed her." your hand rested on his cheek, stroking it soothingly. He was on the verge of tears, fighting hard to stop them from falling. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, your eyes searching for his. So many questions were running through your head. Why did Pilgrim kill Nix? She was like a daughter to him. Did she betray him? Did Castor come back here to find shelter? However you knew the wound was too fresh for you to start asking questions as his eyes betrayed the pain he was trying to hide.

You looked around yourself to see if anyone needed help, but it seemed like everything was being handled. You locked eyes with the Widow from afar and you exchanged a nod.

"Follow me." you grabbed Castor's hand and led him inside the Sanctuary, locking yourself in a room. As soon as you were away from the chaos you pulled him in for a proper hug, taking a deep breath of relief as you held him close to yourself.

"I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." he murmured, his eyes closing for a moment as he tightened his hold around your waist and finally allowed himself to cry. "You were right about everything." he chuckled sadly, causing you to pull away. "Azra was nothing but a made up lie. If it ever existed, it doesn't anymore. It was wiped out with the Old World." you nodded understandingly before leaning over to press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

"It's not your fault Cas. You couldn't know."

"No, but I could've listened to you."

You smiled sympathetically, caressing his cheeks gently with your thumbs.

"You trusted Pilgrim. He was your family, I wouldn't have expected you to choose me over him." you whispered.

Then a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Nothing more needed to be said, not yet, you were both happy to have found each other again.

"Have you found another Baron?"

"No, i'm on my own. Nix and I were still looking for one when..." he paused.

"It's okay." you interrupted, cradling his face in your hands and pressing your forehead against his. "You don't have to explain." he nodded, closing his eyes. "You're safe with me now. I promise."

[lu-undy]

Chapter 75 - SBT

Here it is!

"Mundy?" 

The van was empty and silent. Mundy had shut the door a few seconds ago and Lucien was left there on the bed, naked, sore and his cheeks still wet from his sobs. 

"Meow?" 

Outside of the van, Mundy was walking in the empty and dirty street with nothing on but his underwear. The cold of the winter night was biting his very bones but he didn't care. The few homeless people he met gave him looks but him? He didn't see them. 

"Meeow?" 

"Huh?" 

Perle had sat in front of him on the pavement. 

"Meow?"

"I'm lookin' for some bins…" Mundy walked around her and passed her. 

"Meow?" She asked. 

"I think I'm gonna throw up…" Mundy put a hand on his stomach. He saw a bin and ran to it. In his rush, he knocked it out and fell to his knees. "Oh, bugger…" He coughed and panted. He felt as nauseous as he could be but he didn't throw up. 

"Bloody hell…" He sat down against a wall and took deep breaths to calm himself down. Perle brushed herself on his legs before she stood up on her back legs and brushed her mouth on his. "I think… I think I went too far… I thought he wanted me to get more… Y'know…" 

He looked left and right in the street. 

"Sort of… Go harder…" He blushed. "But he ended up in tears…"

"Meow?"

"Yeah, I heard him sniff and cry, and… When I asked him what was wrong, he just asked me to go away and he curled onto himself, y'know, like he said he used to at night, when he felt really bad." Mundy sighed. "I think I might have… Forced him… Without really wanting it, I mean, please Pearl, you have to believe me, I always said to him that it was ok to stop if he wanted, at anytime…!" 

Perle sat against his thigh and started purring. 

"Gosh… What have I done…?" Mundy let a hand sink on his face, from his brow to his chin, deforming him as it went down. "I'm… I'm horrible…" 

He stood up and walked, wrapping his arms around himself to shield his body from the cold. The pavement was ice cold now and his feet burnt with each step. 

"I'm a monster… I'm a bloody monster… I'm worse than an animal, I'm… I should turn myself to the police or somethin'."

"Meow?!" Perle exclaimed. 

"Look," He crouched down. "What would Soot do if he did the thing with you and forced you? How would you feel?"

"Meow!" She answered and trotted away. 

Mundy followed her, mindlessly. 

"You left the hubby with the kids?"

"Meow."

"You should go back to them, they're gonna miss Mum."

Perle didn't answer and stopped walking in front of a door. 

"What is it, baby?" Mundy's teeth started to chatter seriously. 

"Meow…" She raised her paw to the door and Mundy raised his head. It was a clothes' shop. 

"Baby, I can't just get it and take what I want… I need money and stuff is closed now, it's the middle of the night." 

"I can show you how to pick the lock but it won't be necessary." 

Mundy turned his back and Lucien was standing behind him, accompanied by Soot and the kittens. He was carrying a bag. His hand dived in and he got some clothes out. 

"Let me help you, you must be freezing." Lucien took a step forward but Mundy backed off. The Frenchman frowned. "What is the matter?" 

"W-what? You serious? I… I forced you into all this and… Don't get close to me! No, not another step. I'm a monster…"

"What are you talking about? You forced me to do nothing!"

"Why were you cryin' then? You didn't say anythin' and just curled up in bed! I was terrified of what I had done!" Mundy exclaimed. 

"Can't a man cry of the sheer force of pleasure?!" Lucien yelled back at him and Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"What…?"

The Frenchman shook his head and took advantage of his lover being astonished to dress him up. 

"Here… Tee-shirt… Jumper… Raise your leg… Merci… Other one…? Merci… That is for trousers… Now, coat, scarf and hat. Boots…? Parfait!"

[Perfect!]

"But…?"

Lucien took Mundy's hand and they started walking back to the van, followed by the herd of fluff. 

"I was crying because I felt decades and decades younger… I felt like I should have discovered these things so much earlier…"

"Why didn't you say anythin'? I was dead worried!"

"Because I was overwhelmed…" Lucien tightened his grip on his lover's hand. "I… Let us get inside the van and I can tell you more." 

"Right…"

"Are you warming up? You must be freezing!" Lucien asked.

"I'm bloody… frozen…" 

"Come here." Lucien removed his coat and wrapped it around his lover. "Give me your hands…" He removed his own gloves and helped Mundy to slip them on. 

"Y-you got… Tiny… Fingers…" He said, between his chattering teeth. 

"Would you rather I took the gloves back maybe?" 

"N-no, please…" Mundy hunched his back and melted when Lucien stuck his warm hands against the gloves, sandwiching the poor Aussie's fingers. "Gosh… I-I'm sorry…"

"Ssh, save your strength." 

A few minutes later, they found themselves in the van, on the sofa. Lucien wrapped Mundy tightly in his blanket and prepared a barely warm cup of herbal tea. He opened his clothes' cupboard and looked left and right. 

"Ah! Here… You should wear these, let me help…" Lucien kneeled down and slipped Mundy's feet in the socks he had taken from the cupboard. "Voilà… Your feet will warm up nicely, let me turn on the heater and… parfait." 

[Perfect]

"Love?" 

"Hm?"

"Come sit next to me, please." 

"Do you mind if I stay standing up? Or maybe lie on my side?"

"Sure, whatever you want."

Mundy opened his arm to welcome Lucien in his blanket fort. The Frenchman used his lover's lap as a pillow and lay down on the short sofa, folding his legs and curling in a ball.

"Meow…!" Perle and the entire fluff family entered the blanket fort too. She laid next to her Papa's head, on her Dad's lap while the rest of the fluff found warm spots under the blanket to curl up and pur.

"Perle? Cats…?" 

The lady cat purred and stared at her Papa lovingly, her pupils as wide as they could get.

"Look at her, she looks at you with more love in her eyes than when she looks at Soot…"

Lucien smiled. 

"Drink slowly, Mundy. It isn't too hot as the last thing we want is a thermal shock." Lucien explained. 

"Thanks… But yeah, tell me." Mundy took a sip. Lucien looked up at his lover. 

"I feel strange… Well, not only I can't sit down but…"

"You can't sit down?" Mundy repeated. "Why?"

"Well, can't you guess…?" 

Mundy frowned but he understood it and his eyes snapped wide. 

"Oh… Uh… I guess I didn't spare ya… I'm sorry…" He sighed and looked away. 

"Mundy…?"

"I felt like a monster because I thought I forced you to do things you didn't want… I-I was gonna throw up so I went outside to get some fresh air and a bin. Found the bin but fell on it and I only managed to gag on empty air, nothing wanted to come out…" He closed his eyes. "I-I'm…"

"Mon loup…" Lucien raised his hand and caressed his lover's cheek. "You forced me to do nothing. As I said, I was just overwhelmed and… I… I needed a bit of time and a lot of you but… You ran away so…" Lucien's hand slid down on Mundy's face and his chest. "I got dressed and ran after you. I didn't know where you would go so I asked Soot and the kittens. I followed them blindly, hoping that they understood what I had told them. In the end, I found you and Perle. But Mundy, please, I insist. I felt heavenly tonight." 

"You sure?" 

"May I confess something?" 

"Yeah."

"I didn't need your hand on me to reach the seventh sky of pleasure. Your body did a marvelous job and… It felt so pure and raw… So blissful… I could not contain my tears." 

"You didn't cry because I hurt you or…?"

"Again, non, absolutely not… I feel so… complete now, with you. Mundy, it was my first time on the receiving end and, as I said before, it was a luxury I could never afford with anyone else."

"You wanted to do it that much?" Mundy asked. 

"Well… I never really realised how good I could feel but it was a problem of trust more than anything else."

"What d'you mean?" Mundy put the empty cup away and slid his fingers through Lucien's long hair.

"However people like to describe it, I have always felt as if it was a position of weakness, a position of least… manhood, if that makes sense."

"Hm, I get it."

"But it didn't feel that way with you." Lucien went on. "Non, not at all. I felt… safe, unlike I've ever felt before. This is why I couldn't hold back my tears, it was something too… pure. I…"

"You what, love? Tell me, please…"

Lucien frowned. 

"I abandoned myself to you, of my own free will, I decided to let go of everything, relax, and…"

Mundy put his hand on Lucien's bearded cheek. 

"You can tell me anything, get it all out…" His thumb brushed him gently. Lucien closed his eyes.

"... And I let myself… Be taken… By you…" Lucien wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and buried his head in his abdomen. "I just… I surrender to you, Mundy, I… I'm yours."

"Love…? C'mere…" Mundy pulled him up and laced his arms around him. "Can you sit or does it hurt still?" 

"It hurts a bit but I need your arms, I need you…" Lucien straddled his lover's thighs and Mundy pulled him against his chest. "What about you? Are you heating up?" 

"Yeah… Especially with you against me now…" Mundy answered and kissed Lucien's head in his hair. "I love you, gorgeous… What you just said to me… I… I'm not even sure I understand how strong it is, I mean… I've seen you fight, I've seen you torture, I've seen you cry. I know how proud you can be and uh… I-I'm outta words… Thank you so much." He tightened the hug and Lucien felt the Aussie's fingers dig into his sides. "Thank you so, so much."

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah, luv'?" 

"Can we go to bed, please?" 

"Of course, anythin' for you, Lu'." 

Lucien raised his head that had been leaning against Mundy's chest and the Aussie left a quick kiss on his forehead. The cats went to their bed. But they had grown such that they didn't all fit there. Perle and Soot laid there, the male spooning the female and bathing her, while the young ones stayed on the sofa. They stuck to each other to better keep their heat.

Mundy let Lucien climb first and followed him. 

"Please, lie first, I want to lie on you." Lucien asked. 

"Sure." 

Mundy laid on his back and Lucien laid on his stomach, on top of the Aussie. Their legs mingled under the blanket and Lucien snuggled against his lover.

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" He laced his arms around Lucien, brushing his silky hair between his fingers.

"How… How was I? I mean, from your point of view?" 

"You're the best… Well… The best person I've ever done that with… I mean…"

"Were there a lot of people before me?" Lucien asked. 

"Uh… Didn't keep count y'know… But quite a few, yeah?"

"What about men?"

"Never felt too much for blokes. They feel nice. But none of them were… I mean… I didn't like more than what I got from them if that makes sense." 

"Was it the same with women?" 

"Not exactly. It felt more normal with women, less weird. But… Still, haven't found one I could really be myself with."

"What do you mean?" Lucien was peppering silent and prude kisses in Mundy's neck. His hand slithered on Mundy until he laced his fingers between the Aussie's.

"They always saw me like a bit of a… special bloke, I guess. Y'know, with the van, no fixed home, the adventurer's look… They always take me for a kind of vagabond that lives nowhere and yada yada… None of them ever saw me like a normal man you could have a decent conversation with. It was shag'n go in the end." 

"Hm."

"You remember the first few conversations I had with you, when I didn't know that you were Lulu?"

"Oui, of course." 

"The conversations I had with you even back then meant more than anything I had said to those sheilas." 

"Really? You never had a meaningful conversation with a woman before?" 

"Nope, never happened with a man either. You're the first one. Even with friends it's never happened."

"Mon Dieu…"

"I guess you had friends and stuff? People you can talk about whatever's on your mind. Or maybe you kept it to your man or woman of the night, hm?" Mundy scratched Lucien's scalp like he would with Perle. 

"Actually, not at all."

"What, then?" 

"Mon loup, I… I never really had friends. I had colleagues, superiors and targets. That was all I ever had."

"Oh…" 

Lucien closed his eyes. Laying on his lover was so comfortable that it started to bring him sleep. 

"I… I never confided my thoughts to anyone, ever. I never could. When you are a spy, it could cost you your life." 

"So you never had deep conversations with anyone? What about Mary?" Mundy asked. 

Lucien was purring under his lover's hand. 

"I did share a few things with her, of course… But…"

"But what?"

Lucien sighed. 

"But now that it is far behind me, I regret it." 

"Why?" 

"It could have killed her. If I loved her truly, I shouldn't have lived with her, I should have kept my distance and waited."

"Waited for what?" 

"For my mission to end. Then I would have cleared up my name, my reputation, and would have started anew as I am doing with you. That way, there would be no chance that my past would run back at me, or at us."

"Lu'... I get it but uh… In the end, it didn't matter. I mean…" Mundy was uncomfortable. Mentioning Mary, or talking about her didn't feel right. He didn't know how to approach the subject in a way that wouldn't hurt Lucien. 

"I understand, Mundy. And you are right. In the end, it didn't matter. But still, it is a mistake that I regret."

"I'm sorry, luv'. I wish I could do something."

"You can." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"Tell me." 

"Hold me close." 

"C'mere, sweetheart…" Mundy laced his arms tighter around his lover and as Lucien moved his head against his, Mundy kissed his cheek repeatedly. "Love you… Love you so much…" His hands slithered down Lucien's back to his behind that he took in his palms left and right. 

"Aah-! Mundy, please be gentle-!"

"Oh, bugger, yeah, of course, sorry, sweetheart, I'm sorry… Didn't mean to hurt you." Mundy slid his hands up to Lucien's back again. "Let me know if I can do anythin'. Are you comfy layin' on me on your belly?"

"Oui… I am even falling asleep on you…" Lucien's voice was indeed started to sound like it. 

"Oh, sorry, luv'. Let's sleep. Love ya." 

"Hm?" Lucien protested. 

"What?" 

"Kiss me goodnight, please."

"Alright, gimme yer lips, then." 

One lapping sound. It echoed in the van and they fell asleep after that.

-- Next day -- 

"Lu'... Lu', stop it with your hair… Let me sleep…"

Gosh this man could be clingy…

"Rrrrr…"

"You even pur now?" Mundy opened his eyes and realised that Perle had invaded his bed. "So it's really Perle this time, huh?" 

The meows answered, relentless and he felt four paws treading softly on him. Then, two started to knead his upper chest.

“How did you end up here anyway, eh?  You climbed?”

“Meow.” Perle answered.

“Right, right, let me get up." Mundy climbed down his bed and started his morning routine.

The Aussie dressed up and made some coffee. 

"Mh? What's this?" 

A piece of paper left on the kettle. 

"Mon amour, 

When you wake up, please take Perle with you and come join me at this address:

101 Queen Victoria Street. 

Bring your beautiful eyes and soft smile. 

Lovingly, 

Your Lu."

He smiled. Lucien's handwriting was elegant and smooth without being feminine at all. 

"Hold on… What's that smell…?" Mundy put the paper under his nose. "His perfume…" His smile widened. 

"Meow?" 

"Yeah, it's your Papa. Gotta go to that address." Mundy gulped down the rest of his coffee. "Come along, baby." 

"Meow…!"

Perle went in front of her Dad and stood on her back legs. 

"Want a kiss?" Mundy crouched down and let her headbutt him but she actually climbed on him. "Oh… You want me to carry you?"

She purred as Mundy held her like a baby between his arms. 

"Look at who's bein' spoilt rotten, eh?" 

She raised her arms and her head to him and he dived down to kiss her. 

"Love ya, fluffy baby…" 

"Meow…" 

"Love you so much…"

They exited the van and Mundy headed in direction of the address mentioned on the paper. Perle laid in his arms for part of the journey but she climbed up and settled across his shoulders and upper back. 

"You're really big now, baby, look how hunched I have to be to carry you…!" 

"Meow!"

"Nah, of course you don't care. Love ya." 

She purred louder. 

"Look, we shouldn't be too far now. I know Queen Victoria's street, there's a few shops and a few houses in between but… Oh, there we are, look who's been waitin' for you."

"Meow!" 

As soon as she saw Soot, Perle started to move on her Dad's shoulders. 

"Here, baby, there you go." Mundy crouched down and she elegantly dropped to the ground before trotting to her companion. The herd of young cats emerged out of a dark red door. Mundy looked up.

101.

The door was ajar. He gave a few knocks. 

"Uh, hello?" 

"Come in, mon amour!"

Mundy pushed the door completely open. 

"Lu'...?" 

The house was quite empty. Mundy stepped in and the cats trotted inside, discovering the place much faster than the Aussie himself. He took his time. The floor was wooden, the ceiling, quite high with a few quite humble lights. All the walls were painted. 

"Lu'...? Where are you? What's all this?" Mundy hesitated to go too deep inside. 

Lucien's head peeked out of a doorframe.

"Welcome home, mon amour."

Mundy's eyes snapped wide and his jaw dropped.

[bing-fucker]

Oh fuck I'm going to hell. Eh, whatever. Wanna write something with Father Ethan being ~corrupted~ by someone? Maybe Mad Mike?

As a Jew, I feel completely comfortable writing this blasphemy and in fact I was hoping for this exact situation. So don't worry, I'll be seeing you in Hell!

Mad Mike is Ethan's age in this (so 23), while Father Ethan is in his early-mid thirties. Also, you guys know that weird kinda baby-ish voice Ethan does when he's annoying Mark? That's what Mad Mike's voice sounds like.

Warning: Blasphemy, I'm pretty sure priests aren't allowed to have sex so, drugged kissing, age difference, use of the word "cunt"to refer to a trans guy's genitalia, breast stimulation on a trans guy, sex in a confessional booth. As always, ask me to add any necessary warnings!

Father Ethan was always happy to get back home, and he was rather lucky that he was able to be home earlier than most of the others. Not that Blank ever left the house, but The Postman was very busy, and Bernice was usually out and about with her friends, and Mad Mike... Well. Father Ethan tried not to dwell too much on the things Mad Mike did after the closing of his ice cream shop. On more than one occasion, the blue haired man had come home with a limp and a bruise or too - some in rather suspicious places, such as his neck! - and it was rather distressing for the poor priest. Father Ethan sighed deeply as the front door banged closed, the tell-tale scent of cotton candy and cleaning product and weed wafting in as Mad Mike got home.

"Hey, guys!" Mad Mike called. His voice always sounded a bit childish to Father Ethan, and if he didn't know better, he'd think it was simply a voice that Mad Mike put on for fun.

"Welcome home, Michael," Father Ethan greeted, folding back up his newspaper and setting it to the side. Mad Mike grinned lightly at him, the remains of a blunt hanging from his lips. He'd already ditched his soda jockey hat and apron and his bowtie hung undone around his shirt as he undid the top few buttons. Father Ethan looked away, ignoring the small peak of Mad Mike's bright blue binder and the blush it sent to his cheeks.

"I told you, it's just Mike," Mad Mike replied, throwing the remains of his blunt away before laying out on the couch across from Father Ethan and looking at him with hooded eyes.

"Did you not change it to Michael? I remember assisting in the paperwork."

"Well, yeah. But you can just call me Mike."

"I would prefer to call you Michael," Father Ethan replied, standing and brushing off his clothing. "If you'll excuse me, Michael, I think I'm going to retire to my bedroom."

Mad Mike frowned and sat up, catching Father Ethan's hand before he left and squinting at his face worriedly. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked, yanking Father Ethan's hand with surprising strength. Father Ethan stumbled, catching his balance against the couch, his hands caging Mad Mike against the cushion and his knee resting next to the younger man's hip.

"Well hello there," Mad Mike commented, looking up at Father Ethan with pink-and-blue swirled eyes that were far too innocent for the man they belonged to. Father Ethan stiffened, watching Mad Mike's tongue swipe across his pink lips. Mad Mike's lips were always perfectly pink and plump and Father Ethan had imagined the feel of them more than once, as ashamed as he was of that admission.

"Hello," Father Ethan replied, mouth dry as he looked down at the younger man.

"You seem a bit distracted, Father," Mad Mike commented, voice soft.

"So I seem to be," Father Ethan agreed, moving one hand to grip Mad Mike's jaw. Mad Mike didn't move, simply gazed up at him placidly.

"Don't look at me like that," Father Ethan growled, gripping Mad Mike's grip bruisingly tight.

"Like what?"

"Like you're innocent. Like you're not tempting me to sin."

"I'm not doing anything," Mad Mike replied, looking up at Father Ethan with an almost frightened expression.

Father Ethan frowned deeply and released Mad Mike's jaw, soothingly rubbing the red marks his fingers left behind before leaning forward and pressing his lips against Mad Mike's. Father Ethan groaned softly and crowded closer to Mad Mike, eyes falling closed as he pulled the young man closer. Mad Mike was shocked for a second before he internally shrugged and returned the kiss. Father Ethan groaned and climbed onto the couch over him fully, hesitantly deepening the kiss. It had been years since he'd been with someone, and it was probably very easy for Mad Mike to tell.

Father Ethan pulled away, breathing heavily and staring down at Mad Mike. "Your lips are swollen," he commented.

"They tend to do that when you kiss too hard," he replied, licking his lips. "And you kiss very hard." Mad Mike reached up into Father Ethan's hair, trying to pull him into another kiss.

Father Ethan roughly pushed Mad Mike away, shaking his head before quickly turning and leaving. Mad Mike simply shrugged and relaxed against the couch.

Father Ethan panted heavily when he made it into his room, slamming the door shut and sitting heavily on his bed. He bit his lip and looked down at himself, frowning at the sight of his pants tenting. He wasn't actually- he couldn't really be thinking of doing that, right? Except that he was, because his erection certainly wasn't going away, and neither were the images of Mad Mike. Father Ethan bit his lip as he laid back on his bed and pushed his trousers down his thighs. Father Ethan muttered a quick prayer before pouring hand lotion into his palm and slowly beginning to stroke himself. He didn't last long, predictably. Not when the first image that came to mind was his young housemate sinking down so desperately onto his cock, and especially not when he could so very clearly imagine how Mad Mike would sound with Father Ethan's cock inside of him. Mad Mike was a loud person, and didn't generally care if the others knew when he had a partner over. Father Ethan had had many a sleepless nights worrying - and fantasizing - over the young man. Father Ethan curled his nose in disgust at the mess he had caused, quickly cleaning up before going to bed.

-

Father Ethan sighed deeply, sitting down in the pew of his church. He liked being able to help his parishioners and pray for guidance, but he had been distracted all day, thinking about the events of the previous night. It was a stressful day, and it was about to get a lot more stressful as someone sat down next to Father Ethan. Someone that smelled like ice cream and cleaning products and a bit like weed.

"I thought you didn't like church," Father Ethan said, refusing to turn his head to look at Mad Mike.

"I don't," Mad Mike agreed. "But I wanted to check on you. You seemed a bit panicked last ni-"

Father Ethan slapped a hand over Mad Mike's mouth, quickly standing and dragging the druggie over to the confessional booth. Mad Mike looked a bit shocked as Father Ethan shoved him into the booth, but didn't protest at suddenly sharing the small space with the priest.

"Well, it's a bit small, but I'm pretty flexible," Mad Mike said thoughtfully.

"What!? No, this isn't- I'm- We're not going to-" Father Ethan spluttered, staring down at Mad Mike in shock.

"Oh? You want me to confess?" Mad Mike asked, smirking teasingly and pushing Father Ethan to sit on the bench. Father Ethan went willingly, swallowing thickly as Mad Mike settled himself in his lap. "What is it I'm supposed to say?" Father Ethan didn't respond, his cheeks hot with blush as he settled his hands on Mad Mike's hips.

"Sorry, daddy, I've been bad?" Mad Mike asked, blinking innocently at Father Ethan.

"It's," Father Ethan swallowed a soft moan at Mad Mike's words. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

"Right," Mad Mike responded, reaching up and undoing his bowtie before slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Father Ethan watched his hands, moaning softly as Mad Mike took his shirt off fully.

"You're not wearing your binder," he commented, not waiting for Mad Mike's response before he lifted his hands to touch the younger man's small breasts.

"I'm small enough it doesn't matter. And you seem to enjoy it," Mad Mike replied, pressing into the priest's hands and kissing down his throat. Father Ethan groaned softly, gently massaging the soft flesh beneath his hands. Mad Mike pulled back, holding the white of Father Ethan's clerical collar between his teeth. Father Ethan panted faintly and carefully pulled the fabric out of Mad Mike's mouth and drawing him into a kiss. Mad Mike groaned softly, quickly undoing Father Ethan's belt and pulling his trousers down his thighs. Father Ethan swallowed thickly, frowning a bit at the loss of Mad Mike's soft flesh beneath his hands as the younger slid to his knees in front of the seated Father.

Mad Mike looked at him from beneath his eyelashes as he slowly took Father Ethan's cock into his mouth. Father Ethan slammed his hand over his mouth to quiet his moans as Mad Mike sucked his cock.

"Michael," Father Ethan moaned softly, head thunking back against the wall as Mad Mike hollowed his cheeks and swallowed around the priest's cock. Mad Mike pulled off, groaning softly. Father Ethan whined softly at the loss, bucking his hips against Mad Mike's cheek, smearing saliva and his precum onto the younger's face. Mad Mike laughed softly and carefully pulled down his skinny jeans, pulling them off one leg.

"Good God," Father Ethan muttered at the sight of Mad Mike's slick cunt. Mad Mike laughed softly and sat himself in Father Ethan's lap, gripping the Father's cock and slowly dragging the head through his wet folds. Father Ethan moaned softly, watching Mad Mike sink down on his cock.

"Michael," Father Ethan groaned, bucking up into Mad Mike's cunt insistently.

"Oh, fuck," Mad Mike moaned, quickly beginning to move Father Ethan's cock.

"L-language," Father Ethan tried to reprimand, gripping Mad Mike's hips tightly.

"I really don't think you're in a position to be lecturing me on my language, Father~" Mad Mike replied, rolling his hips and drawing a moan from Father Ethan both at the movement and at how filthy it was to hear his holy title spoken at such a time. Mad Mike moaned softly, moving faster. Father Ethan whimpered softly, gripping the younger man's hips tightly.

"Michael," he moaned. "I-I'm close, my angel~"

"It's okay, Father. I want you to fill me~" Mad Mike purred, kissing Father Ethan deeply and swallowing the Father's moans as he came, thrusting up into Mad Mike deeply as he filled him.

Mad Mike relaxed for a minute before pulling off of Father Ethan, biting his lip at the soreness left behind as he pulled his jeans back on slowly.

"You didn't finish," Father Ethan commented, frowning.

"Don't worry," Mad Mike replied, winking as he left the booth. "You can make it up to me at home."

"Michael, wait," Father Ethan said, reaching out and grabbing Mad Mike's hand before he could leave. "Are you high?"

Mad Mike looked back at Father Ethan and smiled softly, shaking his head as he left. Father Ethan leaned back against the wall. Mad Mike had been sober. That punched the breath out of Father Ethan's lungs far more than any sins they'd just committed. The idea of Mad Mike wanting this enough to be sober for it...

Father Ethan shook his head lightly and fixed his clothing. Yes, he certainly would be making it up to his favorite little drug addict later.