#king in the castle complaining about how hard it is to be worshipped to the starving peasants

[lobotomyladylives]

I can't take it seriously when celebrities are talking about the "struggles" of being rich and famous. like ok let's swap places then you ingrate

[jamaisjoons]

bitten & knotted | jhs + knj

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: as different as night and day, your two lovers have many differences, after all, one is a vampire and the other is a werewolf. they have their similarities too, namely their supernaturally long life. something you don’t share. something they’re going to rectify tonight. supernatural au.

⟶ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: vampire!namjoon x princess!reader x werewolf!hoseok

⟶ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff • smut • pwp (with more plot than was intended)

⟶ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 10k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: dom!namjoon, dom!hoseok, sub!reader, joon and hobi both have big cocks xxx, this is somehow tender and hard at the same time, threesome: mfm, dirty talk, slight body worship, light spanking, nipple play, pussy eating, fingering, face riding, cock sucking, deep throating, gagging/choking (on cock), cum eating, degradation, praise, unprotected, sloppy seconds, rough sex, manhandling, hoseok goes feral, slight mentions of blood, cum play, spitting, knotting, breeding, creampie eating, slight mxm, multiple orgasms, multiple creampies, biting/marking, 

⟶ 𝑎/𝑛: hello! welcome to the first fic of SPOOKY MONTH! y’all know i can’t disrespect my 94 kings and not have THIS au be the first spooky themed fic i posted hehehe anyway this was supposed to be pwp but i guESS IT HAS PLOT ??? very lITTLE but definitely more than it needed ahahaHAHAHAHA 

⇥ special thanks to my beta @slashgashbridesmaid for reading and editing this for me ♡

Darkness fills the night, cloaking the sky in its cascading blanket of pitch black. Not a single star glimmers. Instead, thick grey clouds aimlessly float through the nighttime, obscuring the cold, distant light of the moon intermittently. You find yourself humming along the darkened corridors of your castle. Dense streams of moonlight filter through the long arched windows that line the fading brick walls - the heavy dark velvet curtains pulled to the side. Usually, mostly during day time, they were drawn shut in order to prevent rays of sunlight from penetrating the window.

Your castle was always dark and dreary during the day, lit up only by the weak flickering of candlelight. The walls of the castle haven’t seen sunlight for over two decades. Of course, they couldn’t. Not with the vampire love of your life who makes his home within these very walls. No, sunlight was deadly to him - and considering he tended to wander the castle during the day doing his usual duties of playing advisor to the kingdoms, the curtains have to remain drawn. You don’t mind so much - whenever you needed to bask in the sunlight, you would find yourself out in the palace gardens or roaming the forest with your werewolf lover keeping you company.

You can’t complain. No, not at all. You have the best of both worlds. During the days, you travel the forests that surround your home, Hoseok in his giant wolf form as he carries you on his back - and when he gets tired, you usually stop and let him rest in your lap as you bask in the sun, mindlessly playing with his hair - or fur if he stays in his shifted form. Then, during the nights, you find yourself walking hand in hand as you and Namjoon traverse the nearby meadows, enjoying the way the night blooms glistening flowers of white as moonbeams drip over them. Indeed, there’s not a single thing you could complain about.

When you get to your chamber doors, you stop abruptly at the unexpected sight. Namjoon nervously paces the length of the doorway while he chews on his fingers, muttering every now and then. Though, unlike your lovers, you are human - a facet of yourself they have yet to rectify so you can be with them for as long as they live - and cannot hear what he’s mumbling about. Hearing the pattering of your footsteps against the cold stone ground, Namjoon’s head snaps up.

“Fuck. You’re here,” Namjoon breathes out. Your brows knit together as you look at him in worry. You may not have their superhuman senses, but you still notice the way his hands tremble with anticipation - or maybe trepidation.

“Joonie? What’s going on?” you ask as you approach him. Namjoon lets out a heavy exhale before taking your hands within his and placing a soft kiss on each of the knuckles.

“You know I love you? That we love you?” Namjoon whispers, his voice hushed. His hands drop yours, instead, moving to rest on your hips. Tenderly, his thumb brushes against the silk of your dress, and you lowly hum.

“Of course, I love you too. You and Hoseok. Both. Equally. Forever,” you reply without hesitation. Then you pause before continuing, “what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” you say, looking up into his dark eyes. They glow in the moonlight, the bright crimson flecks mellowed by soft umber tones. They’re so completely different from the way his eyes looked when he had been human.

“Nothing’s wrong, love. We- we just decided tonight is the night,” Namjoon finally says. You freeze in his hold, your heart speeding up. It thunders in your chest, Namjoon swallowing thickly as he smells the blood rush through your veins. Immediately, you’re searching his eyes, looking for any inkling of dishonesty. You find none. They’re filled with nervousness, worry but more importantly, anticipation and certainty. He’s being serious. Your heart soars within your chest, and despite shaky hands, you throw yourself into his arms. Instantly, your lips find purchase on his.

Automatically, Namjoon’s arms circle your waist, and then he’s drawing you into his chest. You fall into his kiss, letting him guide your lips in a sensual dance filled with nothing but tender love. His lips are cold against yours. He’s always so cold - completely different from the practical furnace that is your werewolf. You sigh into his kiss before pulling away. You’re breathless, warm air fans his lips, yet he’s completely composed. You suppose it has more to do with the fact that he’s undead than unaffected. He smiles gently and brushes his nose against yours. Then, grabbing your hand, he slowly leads you inside.

The heavy wooden doors creak open, a sliver of soft amber light leaking through the crack before you’re flooded by its warmth. You let out a soft gasp at the sight that greets you. Hoseok is sitting on the edge of the large canopy bed that occupies the middle of the room. The soft amber glow of the low candlelight reflects off of his silken russet, wavy locks as he twiddles his thumbs nervously. The minute he hears the squeak of the door, however, his head instantly snaps up, and he lets out a heavy exhale. Abruptly, he stands to his feet. Darkened pools of golden brown stay transfixed onto your figure, Hoseok’s pupil’s dilating as Namjoon pulls you closer to him.

“Did… did Joon tell you?” Hoseok asks, unable to prevent the slight stutter of his words. His voice drips with a mix of anticipation and insecurity - completely unlike his usual confident tone. Biting your lip, you nod at him. Namjoon’s hand slips from yours as Hoseok reaches out to you. Large palms circle your waist before Hoseok pulls you into him. You gasp at the warm sensation of his heated palms - a juxtaposition to Namjoon’s chilled skin.

“What do you think?” Hoseok asks, his gaze momentarily flicking towards the vampire standing behind you. Their eyes lock, a silent conversation exchanging just through their eyes before you feel their gazes on you once again.

“Please. I want to be with you,” you plead. Hoseok sucks in a sharp breath at your words as he caresses your hips under his delicate touch. Namjoon steps closer to you until you’re sandwiched between their chests. The hairs on the back of your neck stand straight when you feel Namjoon move your hair to the side before cold lips brush against your warm skin. The tender attention they lavish on your body causes your eyes to slip shut under their ministrations, your chest warming with affection.

You’ve been dreaming of this day for as long as you can remember. The mortality of humanity wasn’t lost on you - you’d witnessed lots of death through the years. Your mother died when she’d given birth to you, her only child. Your father followed when you were merely eighteen, leaving you the last remaining heir to the throne. However, you weren’t left unprotected.

You’d met Namjoon and Hoseok when you were all children - the two boys chosen as guardians to you, the crown princess. Hoseok had been a bright-eyed pup back then, with darker, almost black, eyes and deep brown hair - completely different to the deep russet hair and golden brown eyes he possesses now: signs of his maturity into adulthood. Even Namjoon has changed over the years, you can’t help but muse to yourself. Born a vampire, not turned, Namjoon has aged with you and Hoseok. Though, when he reached twenty-one, he’d fully come into his vampiric powers and stopped ageing. You can still remember how frightened you’d been, the day after his 21st birthday, when you’d reached out to brush your lover’s hair out of his eyes, only to feel his cold skin.

The three of you have been lovers since you’d all turned eighteen. They’d helped you get over the death of your father, comforted you, and looked after you in the weeks you’d spent completely catatonic, mourning the loss of the only parent you’d ever known. If it weren’t for Hoseok and Namjoon, you were sure the kingdom would have fallen apart. They’d saved you - showed you there were still people who loved you - that they loved you. You loved them too. Still do - until your final days. Throughout your life, it was as if you gravitated to one another - how could you not? You spent all your time with them when you were growing up. They are all you know, all you had ever known, and all you would ever need to know.

Thus, the thought of leaving this world without them terrifies you. Hoseok’s wolf blood will keep him alive for hundreds of years to come, and Namjoon… well, Namjoon will live for roughly the same amount of time. Contrary to popular belief, vampires don’t live forever. While not dead, they aren’t alive either, instead encompassing the state of limbo between. However, the energy that keeps them living, the essence that grants them power eventually runs out too, and with that comes their death. Nothing is infinite after all.

You’re still only human. Your life isn’t as long or drawn out as theirs - your life essence will fade much quicker than theirs. That thought terrifies you. You want to be with them - for as long as you possibly can. So, you had urged Namjoon to turn you. Namjoon had completely refused at first. So, you’d asked Hoseok to bite you. Like Namjoon, however, he’d refused too. There was too much risk. The poison of a vampire’s kiss and the essence of a wolf’s bite were deadly. Most people didn’t make it through: the chances of someone turning were incredibly slim, and they’d both agreed they couldn’t bear to lose you - especially through their own actions.

So, you’d decided to take matters into your own end. At the very edge of your kingdom, nestled in the woods, lived a witch. A witch who, if rumours were to be believed, had lived millennia. A witch who knew things most wouldn’t - who had knowledge of even the most obscure of things. The kingdom trusted Min Yoongi - he’d supposedly lived a long time, looking after the royal bloodline - even if he did it from afar. You couldn’t exactly blame him for being a recluse; if you’d lived as long as he did, you too would probably live far from civilisation. However, the fact of the matter stood, Yoongi could be trusted, and if he had the information you were seeking, then you owed it to yourself and your lovers to find it.

So, one day, you’d snuck past the palace guards and Hoseok’s ever watchful eyes and found yourself wandering the woods and towards Yoongi’s little cottage. It had been a long arduous journey, the forest paths narrow and winding, and you’d feared getting lost without Hoseok’s expert nose and senses to guide you through the forest - but you had done it - and come out triumphant. There was a way. A way to be bonded to both Hoseok and Namjoon until the end of your time. A way to tie their life force to yours and ensure you live for as long as they do. It was rare, almost lost to the ages. A ritual forgotten by everyone. Except for Yoongi.

While not common, it wasn’t unusual for a vampire to choose a human mate or for a werewolf to imprint on one. What was rare, however, was for them to choose the same human. Rare - but not impossible. Lost to time was an ancient bonding ceremony that allowed both a vampire and a werewolf to claim the same mate. Armed with the knowledge, a vial of potion, and Yoongi’s promise that it would be fine, you’d approached them both. They’d been hesitant at first, even with Yoongi’s assurance, because despite its increased chance, the ritual wasn’t perfect. Things could still go wrong. They could still hurt you, and you could still die. Though, the chances were slim if they completed it properly. Finally, though, it seems that they are ready to go through with it.

“Please, I’m ready,” you affirm as you wrap your arms around Hoseok’s neck. Your fingers entangle in his long auburn locks, mindlessly playing with the sleek strands before you draw him closer to you. Heart-shaped lips are only a hair’s breadth apart from yours, and you shudder as his warm breath wafts over your skin. “Make me yours,” you continue, staring up into his honey brown eyes earnestly. A low growl resounds from Hoseok’s chest before he sinks his head lower.

You groan into his kiss, the soft pink flesh of his lips moulding into yours as he kisses you slowly. Namjoon, not one to be left out, wanders his hands up and down the sides of your torso while he feathers kisses along the back of your bare shoulder. Hoseok’s hand moves to hold your chin, lifting it up for easier access as he cups your jaw. Your lips move sensuously, Hoseok’s tongue jutting out to lick at the seam of them. Readily, you part them, allowing his tongue to push in between your teeth before it begins gliding across your own tongue in soft but firm twists.

Namjoon’s cold fingers dance along the nape of your neck before running down your back as he slowly unknots the silken straps that keep your dress tied to your body. With each inch of skin that he exposes to the air, he places a cold kiss against your skin - almost as if he’s revering your body. Once undone, his hands tenderly wander up your back and across your shoulders as he slips the dress off of your body. It falls to the floor in one motion, bunching around your feet in a pool of silk and leaving you completely bare.

“Ah-” you gasp, breaking away from Hoseok’s lips and throwing your head back when Namjoon’s cold palms meander around your ribcage so he can cup your breasts. Gently, he brushes the pads of his thumbs over your nipples, causing them to harden under his icy touch. Unbothered by you breaking the kiss, Hoseok begins peppering kisses along the outline of your jaw and towards your neck. When you let out another gasp, your fingers tightening into his hair, Hoseok smirks, lightly sucking the spot.

“By the moon, you’re so beautiful,” Hoseok reveres as he pulls away, his eyes shifting down your body. He lightly runs his palm along the middle of your stomach and down your hips before pushing his hand between your thighs. Tugging his hair harder, you cry out when he begins softly rolling your clit with his thumb.

“Oh God,” you whimper as Hoseok continues his torturously slow teasing. He smirks over you, flashing his pearly whites before his fingers move, one dipping into you easily. You let out another whine, and your head lolls back automatically, resting on Namjoon’s shoulder as your walls flitter around Hoseok’s finger.

“Fuck- she’s already wet,” Hoseok curses as he pushes a second finger into you. Letting out a soft mew, you buck into his hand, wanting to feel him deeper.

“Hmm. Of course, she is, our Princess is always ready for us. Aren’t you, my love?” Namjoon asks as he playfully nips your shoulder. Your breath hitches when his sharp incisor scrapes against your skin.

“Always! Love feeling you inside me,” you lowly groan as you twist your hand around to rub at Namjoon cloth-covered cock. He hisses against your ear, bucking into your hand.

“Get her on the bed, Namjoon,” Hoseok says as he steps away from you. You whimper when he pulls his fingers out, Hoseok lightly spanks your thigh, causing you to mewl as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Patience, sweetheart,” Hoseok says before brushing a kiss against your forehead. Namjoon easily picks you up - forcing a squeal out of you as you’re suddenly lifted off the ground - before he deposits you onto the bed. They both stand on the side of the bed, eyes darkening with lust as their gaze roves over your body before stopping at the dewy folds between your thighs. Breaking their stare, Namjoon and Hoseok exchange a nervous glance.

“Before we continue, there’s something you need to know,” Hoseok breathes out. You look at him curiously, your head cocking to the side. You say nothing, waiting for them to continue.

“Hoseok… It’s not going to be like usual,” Namjoon tries to explain. Your eyebrows furrow slightly. Of course it wasn’t. You’d read through the ritual - you know that it’s going to be different.

“I kno-” you begin before Hoseok shakes his head, cutting you off.

“No, sweetheart. I’m not… In order to mark you as the ritual requires, I’ll need to give in to the animal instinct. My wolf will take over. I can’t promise he’ll be gentle either,” Hoseok finally breathes out, “he’s wanted you for so long,” he mutters under his breath. His words are almost inaudible, but you hear them anyway. Your eyes soften at the conflict written on his face. Shifting to your knees, you shuffle to the edge and pull him into you. Once again, your fingers thread through his locks as you gently play with the hair on the nape of his neck - just the way he likes it. Hoseok’s chest rumbles in a low purr at your actions, his nose nuzzling into your hair as he breathes in its scent.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I love you,” Hoseok whispers lowly against the crown of your head. Lips curling into a gentle smile, you lean forward and place a kiss against his chest, just over his heart.

“You won’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I love you. All of you,” you reassure before tilting your head and pressing a kiss to his lower jaw. Soothed by your words, Hoseok allows you to pull him onto the bed. You smile gently at him, feeling the bed dip behind you as Namjoon crawls onto the mattress.

Lazily, your hands move to Hoseok’s shirt, pulling the strings that bind it together loose. With each undone tie, more and more of his smooth caramel skin is revealed to your eyes. Leaning forward, you push his shirt off of his shoulders before running your hands across his defined, sinewy muscles. You place an open-mouthed kiss on his skin, suckling and licking the flesh as your lips wander over his chest. When your mouth brushes over the bump that signifies his nipple, your smirk against his skin before you wrap your mouth around the small bud, lightly nipping it.

“Fuck. You’re such a tease. Lay down sweetheart, wanna eat your sweet little pussy,” Hoseok says as he pushes you to lie back. With Namjoon behind you, however, you find yourself draped against his chest, his arms automatically encircling your waist. You shudder at the frigid chill of his skin against yours. When had he taken off his shirt? You don’t have much time to ponder the thought, however, because immediately Hoseok begins kissing his way down your body. Arriving at your legs, Hoseok’s hands wrap around the flesh of your thighs before spreading them.

“Gonna make you scream for me tonight, sweetheart. Make you scream for us,” Hoseok says before warm lips brush against your folds. You whimper, Namjoon moving his hands to once again cup your breasts as he teases the erect peaks between his thumbs and forefingers while running his lips along the length of your neck. You moan at his actions, your back arching as you push your chest further into his palms. The walls of your cunt clench, fluttering around nothing. From the low growl of appreciation that resounds from Hoseok’s chest, you know he sees the movement. Immediately, he wraps his lips around your pussy before sucking - hard.

“Oh god,” you mewl, your hands shooting out and entangling into his hair at the sudden stimulation.

“You like the way I play with your tits while Hoseokie eats you, Princess?” Namjoon asks.

“Mhm,” you moan. Your thoughts completely fly out the window when Namjoon pinches your nipple lightly, tugging the bud.

“Don’t forget about me, my love,” Namjoon says before moving your neck to the side and pulling your lips in for a spellbinding kiss. Hoseok’s eyes stay transfixed to the way your mouth moves with Namjoon, his cock twitching at the sight. Lowering his head, but keeping his gaze locked onto you both, he licks a swipe up your folds, gathering your wetness onto his tongue until it’s doused in your heavy, heady taste. You groan against Namjoon’s lips, your hips reflexively bucking into Hoseok.

“So sweet. The prettiest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” Hoseok breathes out, lightly running his fingers through the folds, soaking his digits in your messy wetness. His eyes follow the thin filmy strings of your arousal that cling to his fingers, stretching as he pulls them away from your cunt. When they snap, his fixation is broken, and immediately he plunges his fingers into his mouth, suckling at them as he drinks your arousal.

“Mine’s the only pussy you’ve tasted,” you reply, breaking off your kiss with Namjoon. Your eyes sparkle mischievously, and Hoseok growls out, spanking your thigh immediately. You hiss at the stinging sensation that flares along your flesh - even if he knew how to control his supernatural strength, Hoseok was still incredibly strong.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Princess,” Hoseok warns before plunging two of his fingers inside you. You cry out at the sudden penetration. Hoseok begins thrusting his fingers in and out out of you, pushing them into your depths as his arm muscles flex. You let out a low moan, groaning out his name. His fingers are long - and he knows your body well enough to easily locate the sweet spot nestled inside you that drives you wild with relative ease.

Namjoon bends his neck down, pushing your breast up so he can draw your nipple into his mouth. Sharp incisors scrape against the soft skin, his silken tongue laving and swirling the bud as he wettens it with his saliva. Releasing it with a pop, Namjoon blows cool air over it, causing you to whimper his name. He smirks, his white teeth glinting in the low light before he presses a kiss to your temple and pushes you off of his chest.

“Hoseok, get her on your face… wanna fuck her throat,” Namjoon says as he slides off the bed. Hoseok pulls away from your thighs, his fingers retreating as he chuckles.

“Feeling left out Joonie?” Hoseok asks. Namjoon gives him a pointed look before pushing his trousers down and freeing his cock. The instant you see it, your mouth begins watering. He must definitely be feeling left out, you muse. The head of his cock is an angry shade of purple, weeping with translucent beads of precum that has his cockhead glistening in the low lighting of the room.

Namjoon doesn’t retaliate and instead begins pumping his cock. Hoseok wraps his arms around your thighs firmly, and before you know what’s happening, he uses his strength to completely flip you over. You gasp at the sudden movement, his muscles flexing as he braces the entirety of your weight while he holds you up. Getting comfortable, and with his head resting on the edge of the mattress, Hoseok grabs your thighs and draws you over his face before he lowers your hips. You suck in a sharp breath when his lips wrap around your clit, gently suckling the bud as he runs his fingers along your folds. Namjoon patters over to you, smiling gently before tenderly petting your hair. You coo at the tender touch, returning your own lazy smile.

“Come on love, be good and open up for me,” Namjoon says as he taps his cock against your lips. Already practically drooling at the thought of tasting him, your jaw instantly falls open. Namjoon lets out a pleased hum before gradually inching his cock inside you. You’re not a stranger to sucking off your vampire lover, and yet, every time he pushes into your mouth, your jaw aches from his girth.

“Be good and take my cock, Princess, and Hoseok will reward you, won’t he?” Namjoon says as he gently caresses your head. You keen under him, your lips wrapping tighter around his shaft while your jaw goes slack. Hoseok lets out a low moan of agreement, the vibrations reverberating through your folds as he laves your clit under his tongue.

“Mhm. Be good for Joonie, and I’ll let you cum on my mouth, sweetheart,” Hoseok assures as he lets your clit go. He pushes your hips up slightly so he can stare unabashedly at your cunt, licking his lips and tasting you on his mouth while he takes in the sight of your dewy folds and dripping cunt.

“Fuck, that’s hot. Could watch you drip for us forever, you know,” Hoseok says as he ghosts his fingers across your nether lips. With featherlight touches, his middle and pointer fingers circle the throbbing bud nestled in the hood of your cunt before he runs them along your slit. Long, slender fingers part your folds, gathering as much of your wetness as he can on them until they’re completely slick with your arousal. The dim lighting reflects off the thin film that coats his digits.

Imperceptibly, your thighs shake on either side of Hoseok’s head, the incredibly light, almost non-existent touch slowly driving you wild. You forget about Namjoon’s cock in your mouth, your lips loosening around the shaft as you lose yourself in the sensation of Hoseok’s fingers. Namjoon hisses slightly and grabs your hair roughly before forcing his cock into your mouth, suddenly hitting the back of your head. Instantly, you choke and splutter around his cock, your eyes tearing up. Namjoon holds your hair tightly, keeping his shaft buried against the back of your throat, even as you gag around him.

“Didn’t Hobi tell you to be good for me? Yet, here you are, forgetting about my cock. Is Hoseok a distraction? Does he need to stop so we can use your pretty throat the way it’s supposed to be used?” Namjoon asks, his voice heavy with dominance. Despite your teary eyes and the ache in both your jaw and your throat, you find yourself shaking your head, your cunt clenching.

“Do I need to stop, sweetheart?” Hoseok asks, drawing his fingers away. Again, you frantically shake your head, your words of protest muffled around Namjoon’s cock.

“So, you’ll be good?” Namjoon asks, and you nod your head quickly. Namjoon grunts at the way his cock shifts inside your mouth as you move your head.

“Hmm. We’ll see. Now hold still while I fuck your pretty throat,” Namjoon says. Your muscles instantly tense, twitching intermittently as you stare up at Namjoon through the thick of your lashes. He growls lowly, keeping his eyes fixed onto yours as he begins thrusting hard, but slowly, into your mouth. Every thrust of his hips has him hitting the back of your throat - you have no doubt that it’ll be completely raw and hoarse tomorrow - as you’re jerked on top of Hoseok.

“That’s a good Princess,” Hoseok praises. Then, suddenly, he plunges two fingers into you. You cry out around Namjoon’s cock, the vampire’s thrusts becoming stuttered at the sudden vibration of your mouth against his cock.

“Fuck.” Namjoon hisses through clenched teeth as he forces his cock further into your mouth. The muscles at the back of your throat flutter around his head, and you find yourself inadvertently swallowing. Namjoon let outs another hiss, his head falling back as you slowly swallow his cock down your pharynx.

“Did she take you down her throat, Joonie?” Hoseok asks, his ears twitching at the fucked out sigh that escapes Namjoon’s lips.

“Fuck. Yes-” Namjoon groans out, barely able to string together a rational sentence as he loses himself in the feel of your tight, hot throat pulsing around his shaft.

“Should I reward our princess?” Hoseok asks, lightly thrusting his fingers into you.

“Hmm. I think so. We promised we would if she was good for us - and she’s being really good right now,” Namjoon praises. One of his large hands moves to wrap around your throat, groaning as his thumb affectionately brushes against the outline of his cock in your oesophagus.

Hoseok doesn’t say anything. Instead, he slowly spreads the two fingers he has buried into you, opening you out for his viewing pleasure. He groans as you’re gradually opened out for him. Thick strings of your arousal coat your inner walls, leaking out of your cunt and running down his fingers. Lifting his head up, he plunges his tongue inside of you, swirling the wet appendage around your walls and drenching it in the thick of your taste.

Uncontrollably, your thighs begin shaking around his head as the ecstasy of your impending orgasm draws near. Your eyes shut, tears leaking down your cheeks - both from the sheer pleasure Hoseok wrought on your body and Namjoon’s deep thrusts down your throat as he uses your oesophagus as his own personal cocksleeve. When Hoseok’s thumb moves to press against your clit, rolling it in tight circles, you feel the knot inside your stomach unravel. Violently, you begin shaking as your orgasm sears through your nerves.

Namjoon abruptly pulls out your throat, and you let out a small shriek as you begin cumming around Hoseok’s tongue. Your throat strains, your moans coming out raspy from Namjoon’s thrusts. Hoseok groans as your walls begin clenching rhythmically around his tongue. The honey of your orgasm trickles out of you in thick streams, running along his tongue and straight into his mouth. Tauntingly slow, he continues circling your clit as he draws out your orgasm, wanting nothing more than to drown in your cum.

“Fuck, Hoseok,” you mewl. Your limbs turn into jelly, and you find yourself falling forward, unable to keep yourself upright. Instantly, Namjoon catches you, bracing you against his taut chest. You bury your face into his abdomen, eyes screwed shut as you cry out your pleasure into Namjoon’s flesh.

“Shh. It’s okay, we’ve got you,” Namjoon says tenderly as he lightly runs his fingers through your hair. Soothingly, he massages your scalp as you come down from the elation of your orgasmic high. Once you stop trembling around his face, Hoseok pulls away from your cunt. Licking his lips, he drinks down the remnants of your cum that soaks his mouth and chin. He strains his head and places a soft kiss against your clit before gently rolling you off of him.

Bonelessly, you fall onto the bed. Your chest heaves as you stare up at the ceiling, gaze completely unfocused from the strength of your orgasm. Vaguely, you hear your lovers shuffle around the room, but you’re too far into your orgasmic haze to really care.

Moments later, when you have more of your bearings, you feel the bed dip on either side of your body. Sluggishly, you roll your head towards them, smiling lazily. They’ve stripped completely naked, leaving them in all their glory. Your eyes brazenly rove over their figures, basking in how utterly beautiful your lovers are.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Hoseok asks. You nod languidly, and Hoseok lets out a soft chuckle from how completely fucked out you are, your eyes glassy. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you up. Your muscles protest the movement, but you let him manoeuvre you so that your back is rested against his hot chest, your hips between his thighs as his hard cock rests against the top of your ass.

“I know I usually fuck you first - but because of… because of the wolf - we thought it’d be easier if Namjoonie has you first,” Hoseok says softly as he presses a kiss against your neck. Your heart soars at his concern, and you let out a small nod.

“It’ll be fine. I trust you both,” you reply, turning your head and pressing a chaste kiss against Hoseok’s lips. Then, turning back, you lift your arms up and beckon Namjoon towards you. He smiles gently at you. Hoseok’s hands wrap around your thighs before spreading them, letting Namjoon crawl between. Your vampire presses a kiss to your forehead. Then, he uncorks the vial in his hand - the vial you hadn’t even noticed.

“Joonie?” you ask, staring curiously at the glass bottle.

“Did you forget about the bonding ceremony, my love?” Namjoon asks, a playful smile teasing his lips. You blink at him, your mind working sluggishly slow at it navigates the fog of euphoria that clouds it. Suddenly, it clicks. Oh yes, the vial of potion. The vial that would temporarily temper down the poison of his kiss and lower the chances of any fatalities.

“Oh. I forgot about that,” you whisper. Once again, the two of them exchange a nervous glance. Tenderly, Hoseok smooths his hands over the flesh of your thighs, massaging them as Namjoon looks at you warily.

“Are you sure about this? If you don’t want to, we can-” Namjoon begins.

“No. I want this. Please. I want to be yours and Hoseok’s forever,” you cut him off, your eyes staring earnestly into his. Namjoon nibbles his lower lip before nodding. Then, he uncorks the vial, the potion glimmering in a metallic pool of silver before he gulps it down. Namjoon’s nose scrunches up at the taste before he sputters.

“Damn, that’s awful,” he says as he swallows thickly before he turns his attention back to you. He takes in the sight of you, body sprawled across Hoseok’s chest and thighs spread wide for him.

“Fuck. Okay,” Namjoon says lowly. Taking his cock in his hand, he pumps it twice, spreading his precum over it before pressing the head against your entrance. You let out a low moan of appreciation as he runs his cockhead through your folds, wetting it in your arousal before he slowly begins pushing it inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you groan as your eyes screw shut. The girth of Namjoon’s cock slowly spreads you open, inch by inch, as he fills your walls.

“Fucking- how are you always so tight?” Namjoon hisses as he bottoms out. Your hands shoot out to rest against his hips, your fingers digging into his bones. When the walls of your cervix kiss the tip of his cock, Namjoon stills, waiting for you to slowly adjust. You take a couple of deep breaths, more than delirious over the way his cock feels inside you. The slight burn of the stretch soon fades away, and you experimentally clench your walls around him. The sensation of your silken walls clamping down around his shaft has him whining softly.

“Joon, hnn- Joonie, you can move,” you croak. Namjoon steadily eases himself out of you before thrusting back in one fluid motion. You cry out when he once again bottoms out, your head lolling onto Hoseok’s shoulder.

“Fuck her good Joonie. You’ll need to fuck that pretty pussy open so it’s easier for her to take my knot,” Hoseok breathes out. His words ring through your ears, and you involuntarily clench around Namjoon again. God, you’d almost forgotten about that. Hoseok had never knotted you before - he’d never let his wolf take control in the bedroom - but tonight, in order to complete your turning, he’d have to.

“Shit, she likes that. She just got so tight,” Namjoon gasps as he thrusts harder.

“Hmm. Is Joonie right, sweetheart? Do you want me to knot you? Does the Princess want to take my knot like a good little bitch?” Hoseok asks. Your eyes snap open at his words. His voice is considerably deeper and just slightly more gravelly. He sounds like your Hoseok, but different. More animalistic.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon groans. The speed of his thrusts increases as his hips ram into yours. With each and every one of his movements, you’re jerked back into Hoseok’s chest. The wolf holds down your thighs, keeping you locked in place as Namjoon begins a brutal pace. Each surge of his cock hits slightly deeper - and with Hoseok holding you down, you have no choice but to take it.

“S-So good,” you whimper out. With each plunge, you can slowly feel yourself approaching the brink of your orgasm. Your thighs begin shaking around him, your hands digging harder into his hips. You clutch his narrow waist hard, holding onto it as if it's your last lifeline.

“Are you going to cum, Princess? I can feel your cunt tightening,” Namjoon asks, and you frantically nod. Flashes of heat run along your skin, your flesh prickling with your nearing peak.

Suddenly, Namjoon grips your hips and yanks them further into his cock. The abrupt movement causes your body to jerk down Hoseok’s chest before Namjoon bends over you, laying both you and Hoseok onto the bed. His chest pressed against yours, your back flush against Hoseok’s abdomen as your head rests on his chest. You cry out when Namjoon wraps your thighs around his hips, digging his knees into the bed and using them as leverage to fuck into your cunt harder and deeper. Imperceptibly, your thighs begin quivering, though Hoseok’s eyes catch the movement.

“She’s cumming Joonie,” Hoseok warns. Namjoon lets out a little grunt and tilts his hips. You let out a low shriek, the change of angle causing his cockhead to brush against the spongy tissue of your g-spot with every thrust.

“Make her cum. I’m not- fuck- gonna last long. She’s- hnng- so fucking tight,” Namjoon croaks, his voice coming out choked. One hand moving from your thigh, Hoseok pushes his fingers against your clit.

Instantly, your back arches, twisting almost painfully as you feel your orgasm ricochet through your body. Your walls rhythmically begin pulsing around the vampire’s cock, tightening around his shaft in almost a vice-like grip. The feel of your cunt milking around him pushes Namjoon over the edge. Thrusting inside of you one final time, Namjoon buries his cock as deep as it can go before cumming and spilling inside of you. Rope after rope of his semen shoots into you, coating your walls white in his thick essence.

Namjoon lets out a little roar, his incisors growing and sharpening until they’re like small daggers. Then, bending over, he latches onto your breast and immediately bites down. The sharpened teeth pierce your breast, the skin tearing as he fills you with a dulled version of his poison while blood rushes into his mouth. You let out a sharp cry as pain flares around your nipple before a cool heat floods through your veins. As soon as he’s done injecting you with his vampiric toxin, Namjoon unlatches his teeth. He begins running his tongue around the wound, inadvertently swirling the appendage around your nipple. The stinging pain of his bite soon begins to fade away as his saliva heals your wound, dulling the ache.

“One down, two more to go,” Namjoon mutters as he unlatches his mouth from your breast. He stares at dark mauve bruises already forming around the puncture marks, almost enraptured by them.

The bonding ritual seemed complicated. There was too much to do - too much that could go wrong, and at first, both he and Hoseok had been hesitant to go through with it - Yoongi’s assurance or not. They didn’t want to hurt you - or lose you because of their own actions. Some of it seemed easy enough - you had to be filled with their cum - or their ‘life essence’ as the instructions had called it - before they could even think about marking you. Then, they had to mark and bite you - at the exact same time, so that they could tie you to them, and that’s where it turned complicated. Due to the potion diluting the strength of his venom, he has to bite you three times, making sure the third time coincides with Hoseok’s bite. If they were off by even the slightest, it would result in your death.

Though, now, as he stares at the purple bruises blooming against your breast, he can’t help but hum in appreciation. Possession flares in his chest, knowing that you’d soon be marked as his and Hoseok’s forever. Soon, you’d be theirs forever: marked and bonded to them for the rest of your lives. Softly, he brushes his plush lips against your sternum in a sweet kiss, your chest heaving under him as you gasp for breath. Easing out of you gently, Namjoon pulls his cock out. The moment his cock leaves you, you let out a soft whine, his cum beginning to drip out.

Before you can catch your breath, you’re suddenly flipped over. Both you and Namjoon let out a gasp of surprise as Hoseok forces you onto your hands and knees, his strength even pushing Namjoon over. Hoseok bends your back, causing it to arch as he pulls your ass into the air. Your head falls between Namjoon’s thighs, his cum covered cock resting against your cheek as Hoseok palms your ass. A low growl emanates from Hoseok’s chest behind you, and instantly your knees go weak. It’s not like his usual growls, no, it’s far too carnal. Too animalistic.

“Look at my bitch’s pretty little ass,” Hoseok grunts, his large palms splaying over the fleshy cheeks. You let out a little whimper at the deep inclination of his voice, your cunt pulsing at the dominance dripping from his words. The wolf spreads the cheeks of your ass, letting out a soft purr of appreciation as he watches Namjoon’s cum drip along your folds.

“Your cunt looks so good filled with the vampire’s seed,” comes the appreciative rumble of Hoseok’s voice. You feel him run his fingers through the folds of your cunt, gathering the spilt cum onto his fingers before pushing them into you. You whimper slightly, your walls slightly raw and still sensitive from Namjoon’s hard thrusts. Hoseok pumps his fingers inside you, watching the way they displace Namjoon’s cum from your pussy. Pulling his fingers out, he smirks at the way Namjoon’s cum coats his fingers before placing them back against your cunt. Once again, he gathers Namjoon’s cum before plunging his fingers back into you, pushing Namjoon’s cum deep into your cunt.

“Such a messy little slut- you’re dripping like a good little bitch in heat. Hmm, I don’t know why he never let me play with you before,” the wolf muses, no doubt referring to Hoseok’s human personality. You feel him spread his fingers inside you, attempting to splay your walls, “tight too - but don’t worry, I’m sure you can take my knot,” Hoseok purrs. Then he pulls his fingers out, only for them to be replaced with the head of his cock.

Your eyes widen, hands shooting out to grip Namjoon’s thighs as Hoseok begins pushing into your entrance. He’s big - much bigger than he’s ever been. Your eyes screw shut at the sheer girth - somehow, he’s thicker than Namjoon. Despite your vampire lover fucking you not even minutes ago and the mix of both your cum, the bulbous head of Hoseok’s cock still struggles to push into the tightness of your cunt.

“Fuck. Be a good little bitch and relax,” Hoseok gnarls, but despite his harsh words, he soothingly rubs your back. Feeling the warmth of Hoseok’s touch, as well as the usual gentleness of your wolf lover, you find yourself relaxing enough for him to gently ease his head in. You let out a deep, low groan as he slowly fills you beyond anything you’ve ever felt before, your walls stretching around his cock. You’re unbelievably full.

Hoseok lets out a low growl, his chest rumbling behind you, “that’s a good bitch. You’re taking my cock so good. Gonna knot you, fill you with my cum, and breed you like my good bitch,” Hoseok snarls as he continues forcing his length inside you. Nails digging into Namjoon’s flesh, you let out a soft whimper, your head resting on the vampire’s thick thighs.

Inch by inch, Hoseok spreads your walls open. The girth is the same almost all the way down, and long, excruciating moments later, he finally bottoms out. Hoseok stills behind you, one hand tenderly rubbing the small of your back. He’s buried so deep in you, it’s almost like you can feel him at the back of your throat. Once you adjust to his girth, you let out a laboured breath and push your ass against him.

“Please,” you whimper, voice low and practically inaudible. Hoseok, however, hears you. You feel his hands move from your back to grip at your hips, sharp talons scraping against your skin.

“Ready for me?” Hoseok asks, and your chest flutters at the slightly higher-pitched tone. It’s Hoseok, your Hoseok - the human counterpart to the wolf.

“Mhm. Want you. All of you,” you reply. This time, when he growls, it’s back to the lower, more carnal sound, and you know the wolf is back.

“Then you’ll get all of me,” he snarls. You feel his grip on your hips tighten before he pulls out of you in one motion until only the tip of his cock in buried into you. Suddenly, he thrusts in deeply, burying his cock into your depths in one slick motion. You scream out his name, your body jerking forward from the abrupt thrust. Namjoon hisses when your nails curl into his legs once again before looking at you in worry.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asks. Concern laces his voice as his gaze momentarily flicks towards Hoseok. The russet haired male’s eyes are completely gold, not a hint of brown present in them. His irises glow unnaturally in the low lighting of the room, and Namjoon curses as he realises Hoseok’s too far deep into his own baser, carnal need.

“F-Fine,” you stutter, barely able to get the words out as Hoseok begins impaling you with his cock. He’s so big, it feels like you’re being split open, and yet, with every thrust, his head brushes against your g-spot, causing your toes to curl in pleasure.

Hoseok moves his hands to your ass cheeks, spreading them open and groaning at the sight. The tight ring of your walls grips his shaft in a vice-like grip, the muscles stretching and pulling with each violent thrust of his cock. He finds himself mesmerised by the sight, gaze enthralled by the way his thick girth fucks your cunt open. His cock is slick, streaks of Namjoon’s cum running down the length as it glistens with the thin filmy wetness of your own cum.

The mixture of both your cum and Namjoon’s acts as a makeshift lubricant, allowing Hoseok to slide into you easier. You groan with each and every one of his thrusts, little whimpers and sighs of both pain and pleasure escaping your mouth. Hoseok’s hands grip your hips, yanking them back onto his cock over and over again as he brutally impales you on his cock. His ministrations only drive you wilder, the pain of his sheer girth stretching you out mixing with the pleasure he forces on your body.

“Fuck-” Hoseok snarls, his pace becoming stuttered. You let out a sharp gasp, practically choking on air as you feel his cock throb inside you. The rhythmic pulsing mirrors the clenching of your own walls, “gonna breed you. Gonna knot your tight little pussy and fuck it full of my cum- gonna make sure I fill your belly full of my pups” Hoseok hisses.

He yanks your hips towards him, his hips slamming against your ass as the sound of skin slapping fills the air. Holding you still, Hoseok leans over your back, plunging his cock into your depths even harder. Your eyes widen just a fraction, and you let out a little cry as you feel the base of his cock begin to swell. A whimper of pain escapes you, your eyes tearing up as you feel the walls of your cunt begin to stretch to their limit.

“Ah- Hoseok,” you gasp out, your hand twisting behind to get him to slow down. Hoseok barely acknowledges you, however, and instead, he continues jackhammering into you. The brute force of his thrusts causes his knot to brush against your walls, the thick knotted flesh threatening to penetrate you with each plunge of his hips. When a fraction of it slips into you, you cry out: this time in pain.

“Fuck! Hoseok, slow down,” Namjoon hisses, his brows scrunching in worry. Hoseok simply snarls at him. Namjoon curses as he realises just how lost into his animalistic urges the wolf is.

“Gotta breed her to complete the bonding,” Hoseok manages to growl out. Conflicted by Hoseok’s words, Namjoon freezes. On one hand, he knows that in order to bond and mate with you, you need to take Hoseok’s knot; however, on the other hand, he can’t stand to see you in pain. Contemplating whether he should stop Hoseok, Namjoon runs his tongue across the front of his teeth. Instantly, his eyes widen as an idea pops into his head.

Namjoon pushes Hoseok backwards, his supernatural strength forcing the wolf onto his ass. As he falls back, Hoseok keeps his grip firmly onto your hips, and you’re dragged back with him. The movement causes you to jerk onto his lap, Hoseok’s knot slipping further into you and causing you to cry out at the sudden intrusion, your walls being stretched open. Namjoon winces and places an apologetic kiss on your forehead. Hoseok ignores you both, instead, using your hips as leverage to slam you harder onto his cock. Your entire body bounces on top of his as he fucks into you, his hips thrusting upwards.

“Ahah- please,” you whimper, your breathing becoming laboured as your eyes screw shut from pain.

“Spread your thighs, love,” Namjoon softly orders. You whimper but do as asked, your legs falling open. The movement only causes Hoseok to growl as your cunt loosens up slightly.

The wolf grips your hips tighter, grinding you onto his cock and causing you to hiss when he sinks in deeper. Crawling between them, Namjoon winces at how swollen you are, your walls stretched immensely as Hoseok continues pushing the flared base of his cock into you. Gathering saliva into his mouth, Namjoon lets it pool onto his tongue before dribbling it onto your cunt. You hiss as the cool spit drips down your heated cunt and around Hoseok’s knot. Namjoon leans forward, lightly kissing and suckling your clit.

As Namjoon’s spit begins running over your entrance, you slowly feel the pain begin to ebb away. Your muscles relax slightly, twitching from the sudden loss of tension. Your eyelids flutter open as you let out a low moan - of pleasure this time - when Namjoon laves your clit. Swallowing thickly, you stare at the top of Namjoon’s head as he eats you out, the healing properties of his spit slowly working their magic and alleviating the ache of Hoseok’s knot.

“Better?” Namjoon asks, his words vibrating across the sensitive bundle of nerves. You throw your head back in pleasure before nodding. Namjoon smirks, keeping his eyes glued onto you as he continues lapping and suckling at your clit. You whine at the feeling of Hoseok’s knot slowly entering you. Now, with the aid of Namjoon’s spit, you can focus more on the pleasure, your skin flushing with heat as your toes curl.

Namjoon’s thick lips wrap around your clit before he draws the bud between his teeth. Gently rolling it, he lightly nibbles on it - teasing your clit until you find yourself tearing up from pleasure. You’re impossibly full, Hoseok still using your hips to pull you onto his cock over and over again - using your cunt as his own personal cocksleeve. With every slam of your hips onto his cock, his knot invades your cunt further. It continues swelling, enlarging under you as your eyes roll from how utterly filled you are. Your hips writhe on top of Hoseok’s, following his rhythm and causing him to let out a low growl of appreciation.

Suddenly, Namjoon unwraps his mouth from your clit, and instead, licks the seam of your stretched out cunt as it clings to Hoseok’s cock. He stares at the beads of his cum, your cum, and Hoseok’s precum that gathers around your entrance. It leaks out in little rivulets, down Hoseok’s shaft and along his knot. Unable to resist, Namjoon finds himself tentatively lapping it, before swallowing. He groans at the taste - the three of you heavy on his tongue.

Growing bolder, Namjoon furiously begins licking along your pussy and Hoseok’s knot, gathering as much of the mixture of cum as he can before swallowing it down thickly. You shiver, your thighs beginning to quake as his tongue darts across your pussy. Pulling away from your cunt, Namjoon replaces his mouth with his fingers. Expert fingers begin rolling your clit, pushing and prodding the little bud and drawing out small mews of pleasure from your lips. Namjoon’s lips ghost across the inside of your thighs, gently nipping the skin as he readies it for his second mark. You can feel your end nearing, your abdomen tightening with heat as your skin prickles with ecstasy.

Namjoon bites down on your thigh abruptly, forcing a grunt of pain from your lips when his incisors once again break your skin. You feel him inject his venom into you, and this time, it’s more potent. It mingles with the toxin already in you, cold heat searing every single one of your veins as your blood is pumped around your body. Namjoon quickly unlatches his mouth from you, running his tongue over the puncture wounds as he alleviates the pain. Plush lips brush against the bruising mark, ghosting soft kisses along the flesh in praise.

“You’re doing so good, love. Just a bit more,” Namjoon says. His gaze is fixed onto your cunt, watching the lewd way in which Hoseok’s knot stretches your cunt as he continues mindlessly playing with your clit. His thumb moves to your entrance, softly brushing the pad against where you and Hoseok are connected. You cry out, your walls clenching tightly around Hoseok.

“Hoseok, she’s not gonna last much longer,” Namjoon warns as he feels your blood rush around your body, your heart beating to the speed of hummingbird wings.

Namjoon kisses his way up your body, stopping briefly to lick and nip one of your nipples, all while continuously working your clit under his fingers. His head falls to the juncture of your neck, his mouth watering as he feels the pulse of your jugular. Lazily, he kisses the skin, gently suckling the tender flesh as he prepares it for his final mark. Hoseok moves his lips to the opposite side, his lips pushed against the crook as he lightly nibbles the skin causing you to gasp as his sharp canines scrape against the skin.

With one final thrust, Hoseok slams you onto his cock, pushing the final remaining inch of his knot inside you. The sudden stretch, paired with Namjoon’s fingers endlessly teasing your clit causes you to hurtle off the edge. You sob out both their names, your head thrown back and back arched into the air as you scream towards the heavens. Hoseok lets out a deep guttural howl before jets of his cum shoot out and into your cunt. You softly cry as the heat of his cum fills you from the inside. You find yourself drowning in its warmth. Your walls clench around his shaft, milking it for all it’s worth as his knot keeps both his and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum plugged up inside you.

Then, with one glance towards each other, Hoseok and Namjoon bite down onto your neck. You feel their sharpened teeth tear into your skin before power surges through your body. Eyes widening from the sheer energy that ricochets within your nerve fibres, you let out a curdling, ear-piercing scream. Their essence sears every single blood vessel as the pure ecstasy of your orgasm courses along your nerves. The two men wince as your howl thunders through their eardrums, your entire being intensely shaking as their power overwhelms you.

Namjoon keeps his eyes trained onto you, watching the way your eyes flash between white and their usual colour. When they finally stop flickering and return to normal, he lets out a sigh of relief. Both he and Hoseok unhook their fangs from your skin, Namjoon quickly running his tongue over the puncture wounds to allay the blood that begins forming around them. Humming against your skin, he licks up the sweet, metallic tasting droplets. Somehow, despite how completely exhausted you are, you feel every single one of your cells thrum with energy as they pulse with life.

Once the overpowering ecstasy ebbs away, leaving you drunk on the euphoria of your orgasmic high, you fall limply onto Hoseok. The wolf catches you easily, wrapping his arm around your waist as he presses his palm across your soft belly. Breath laboured, you gasp for air as your muscles erratically twitch and spasm between them. Hoseok whines as he comes back to his senses, nuzzling your neck as he presses apologetic kisses into your skin.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Hoseok whimpers, repeating his words over and over again as he punctuates them with soft kisses. Vaguely, through your blissed-out state, you manage to process his words. You shake your head, letting it lazily loll onto Hoseok’s shoulder.

Sluggishly, your hand moves to sit on top of his large palm before you lace your fingers between his. Under both your palms, your belly feels warm, filled with Hoseok’s cock and a mixture of both your lovers’ warmth. The wolf gently caresses your abdomen and you bask in his tender touch. Briefly, you wonder if you’d be giving either of them children anytime soon. It sure felt like you would, just from how full of cum you are. With each caress of your abdomen, Hoseok whispers his apologies over and over again, his voice filled with remorse. You hum contentedly.

“You don’t need to apologise,” you finally rasp out, your throat straining.

“I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I hurt you,” Hoseok says and you hum once again.

“Only slightly - nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, Joonie made it better. I can’t even remember the pain anymore,” your soft voice echoes through your bedchambers. Hoseok presses another kiss against the column of your throat before sending a grateful smile to the vampire, causing him to grin in return.

“I love you,” you soft whisper, words filled with nothing but adoration as you bring his hands to your lips. Then, flicking your gaze to your vampire, your lips curl into a lazy, content smile.

“And I love you too,” you affirm, one arm sluggishly reaching out for him. Namjoon’s grin deepens, his teeth on display and dimples indenting. Bending over you, he brushes his lips against the corner of your mouth.

“I love you too... so much,” Namjoon whispers. He’s so close to you that with every movement of his lips, you feel them ghost over yours.

“Mmm. Don’t forget about me- I love you too. We both do,” Hoseok says. Namjoon rolls his eyes before pushing both you and Hoseok down and onto the bed. You whimper when Hoseok’s cock refuses to dislodge from within you, Hoseok letting out a heavy exhale.

“Sorry, we’re gonna be like this a while,” Hoseok informs and you let out a deep sigh as Hoseok moves you into a more comfortable position on the bed.

Hoseok spoons you from behind, his arm tightly wrapped around your waist and his chest flush against your back. Your hips squirm over him, Hoseok hissing as you shuffle to find a cosier spot. Once finding it, you grin and sleepily beckon for Namjoon. The vampire moves to lie next to you, his head slightly lowered so he can press languid kisses against the tops of your breasts. Instinctively, your hands curl into Namjoon’s hair, mindlessly playing with the locks as both of them lavish your skin with tender kisses.

“I assume it worked? The bonding I mean,” you ask. Both your boys laugh at you, Hoseok’s warm breath fanning against the skin of your neck.

“If it didn’t, you’d be dead sweetheart,” Hoseok chuckles. You pout but don’t have the energy to move, your muscles smarting from the remnants of your orgasms.

“I definitely feel dead,” you mutter petulantly under your breath. Though, they still manage to hear your words; supernatural hearing and all, causing them to laugh once again.

You ignore them this time, instead, basking in Hoseok’s soothing warmth and Namjoon’s death-like chill. A smile teases your lips as you think about the years you have ahead. You can’t think of a better way to spend the rest of your life than with your two mates.

a/n: hENLO!! I hope you enjoyed hnnnn this as much as I did writing it 🥴 please don’t forget to leave some feedback and tell me what you think 🥺

[herohotline]

I Don’t Believe in Angels

Shinso Hitoshi x F!Reader

Lovely idea from @plusultrawritings!! Their post about the idea is here.

--- --- ---

Shinso was… well, if you wanted to be kind about it, you’d describe him as selective and wary. But if you were like anyone else in his little town, you’d call him ‘scary and sort of a dick’. Shinso likes the other terms better, but it is what it is. 

It’s not his fault that people don’t understand magic anymore. His father used to tell stories about how wizards were once worshipped and praised- how the young and old, rich and poor would come to magicians on their knees as they asked for a tincture or two. 

In the end, Shinso learned that those were really just stories. 

It wasn’t too bad, though. Being the creepy old warlock in town meant that everyone left him alone, and Shinso liked to be alone. Really. He liked it when he handed a little girl the toy she dropped only for her to burst into tears at the sight of him. 

Really! 

But things changed one day. Out of nowhere, royalty came to his run-down village in the middle of the woods with their tall white horses and flags. They announced the following in the town square: 

To anyone who might be so wise and brave, we invite you on a quest with the Princess to save her land from an incoming invasion. Bring all of your might and your knowledge to the center of Yuuei in a fortnight if you wish to help Her Highness in her time of need. 

Sounded like dangerous bull crap to Shinso, but apparently, the village people thought otherwise. All of a sudden they grew very interested in the magician- bringing sweets and soft fabrics to his doorstep. They were all bribes, of course. The town just wanted fame- and the only one who had even an inch of power was... Shinso. 

Shinso hated them- he hated them all, but somehow he found himself with packed bags on the town's finest horse as he headed off to Yuuei. 

He couldn’t really complain- because even though his home village was cruel and selfish, they lead him to you. You looked like the very definition of royalty, but you acted like anything but. 

You were witty, sarcastic and kind, and you saw something in Shinso that no one else had in his whole life. You saw potential- you saw a friend. 

So you hired his help and the journey began. Throughout the war, he learned more about you and how wonderful you were, along with your friends who had also come from many miles away to help you protect your kingdom. 

They were… okay. A little rowdy, in Shinso’s opinion, but you really liked them, so he tried his best to like them too. It didn’t help that his whole life the magician had been a reluctant hermit- his social skills weren’t exactly the best, but he tried. 

Midoriya was the easiest. He was a prodigy, actually, but he was similar to you in that he didn’t let the title get to his head. He was somewhat clumsy, which was strange, but his heart was strong and his skills were admittedly amazing.

Todoroki was okay. He was apparently the prince of a neighboring kingdom- which made Shinso skeptical at first, but apparently, you and Todoroki were good friends. Todoroki was silent, for the most part, and Shinso liked him that way. And then he’d open his big fat mouth, saying something either way too charming or blunt, and Shinso quickly changed his opinion. 

Then there was… Bakugo. Bakugo was the worst- he was loud, messy, but also overwhelmingly cocky and hot. And he knew he was hot, too, and it ticked Shinso off. Apparently, he was a King, but it was of a place in the world Shinso had never heard of, so he doesn’t treat Bakugo like one. They get into more fights than the magician would like to admit. 

Kirishima was the only good thing that came with Bakugo. He’s a shapeshifter- one minute he’s a human, the next he’s this gorgeous, fifty-foot tall dragon with shining scales and humongous wings that send powerful gusts of wind toward hoards of enemies. And he’s nothing like Bakugo, even though they come from the same kingdom- he’s very kind and considerate, and he’s honestly saved Shinso’s ass more times than he can count. 

And then there’s him. Shinso Hitoshi, hermit magician with a bad attitude and low self-esteem. As the war continues and he fights alongside you, he won’t lie- he gets a little concerned. 

Because Shinso likes you. And it’s already too much knowing that you’re royalty- but you also have much better options than Shinso for a partner and it kind of sucks. Why would you want someone like him when you were constantly surrounded by the rest of your group? Some of them literally flex in front of you- which he can’t stand- but it doesn’t help him look any better. 

By the time the war is won, Shinso is honestly glad. It’s time to go home- back to his little, pathetic hole in the ground where he can spend the rest of his days ignoring the villagers and creating potions that have random effects. Yes, he’ll miss you- he’ll honestly miss all of his teammates, even if they were hard to handle. But this is how it is. Shinso isn’t meant for friends like this. 

There’s a celebratory dinner held in your castle tonight. Thousands have crowded the halls and even the garden areas- Shinso already knows that he’ll have his meal before slinking off into the night. It’s not hard, he’s had a lot of practice doing it. 

As he sits on a thankfully empty balcony, the cold air nipping his cheeks and hands, there’s a voice that calls out from behind him. 

“Hey, Shinso!” When the magician turns around, he sees you. You look wonderful tonight- you always did, even when you were in your ragged clothes and armor, you looked beautiful in Shinso’s eyes. But your body was meant for fine silk and lace- it brought out every lovely feature on you. 

“Your Highness,” Shinso smiles, tipping his glass as a sign of mock respect. You always hated it when he used your titles- and it still proves true as you squint at him with pursed lips and pout. 

“What are you doing here, by yourself?” You quickly move on from his teasing as you stand next to him on the balcony. The smile you wear warms his heart but he quickly looks down- seeing people dance on the pavement below you both and laugh merrily. 

“You know I’m not one for big scenes.” 

“Yes, I do. I’m glad you’re still here.” 

“Are you?” 

“Of course!” Shinso finally looks back at you. He’s only moderately surprised of your affection- you’d never been subtle about who you liked and didn't like. 

Maybe that’s why he got his hopes up. He was aware that you liked him, that you thought of him as a close confidant and friend, and he got that mixed up for other feelings you might have as well. But- that was all Shinso’s imagination, surely. 

“What will you do now?” You ask. His hands run across the rim of the crystal glass he holds as he pretends to think of an answer. 

“I will probably go home. My people will be overjoyed, and they will annoy me. Life will go on, things like that.” 

“Life will go on, huh?” You look thoroughly unimpressed. “Is that really what you want?” 

Shinso snorts. “I don’t have much else. It’s not like angels will suddenly bless me with a better life- this is all I have left to go back to.” 

“I don’t believe in angels,” you frown and lean against the round marble of the balcony. “And I don’t believe that, either. You have many other options- you could stay here.” Shinso watches as you nervously swallow, your handles jumbling together as you sigh. “...You should stay here.” 

Suddenly the air feels much warmer than Shinso knows it actually is. He had felt the biting chill of night on his face just moments earlier, but now his body is an uncomfortable, fuzzy warm, and it makes him shiver. “...You really think so?” 

Your face lights up- clearly, you had expected him to outright reject you. “Yes, yes I really do. I’d miss you if you left, you know.”

“Well, I’m sure you have plenty of others to keep you company.” 

“Of course I do. But they’re all court officials and taxmen. They’re boring- and they’re not you.” 

Oh. 

“Well…” Shinso bites his lip and he looks back down at the happy townspeople below. Maybe he would be able to join them one day- maybe with you. “I’ll think about it,” he whispers, once again pretending.

He’s already made up his mind. If you want him here… well, he’s already fought a war with you. So Shinso will gladly stay by your side if it meant you’d stay happy. 

[gascon-en-exil]

I’m just going to ask for Ferdibert, Dimidue and if you want Sylvix headcanons since yours are always great

Not so good with Sylvix, because I’ve already outlined how I see them in the larger framework of the Lions OT5 and am not very invested in them on their own. For the other two:

Ferdibert

Not to retread any old ground regarding how I view Ferdibert in the context of Ferdinand’s rivalry with Edelgard and Hubert’s attraction to her, but I do see Ferdinand being drawn to Hubert initially out of jealousy pre-timeskip and unable to fully process his feelings (Note that, somewhat unusually, these two only have one support available before the timeskip.). It’s Hubert who makes the first move, as seen in their A.

Crossdressing Ferdinand is a persistent idea I’ve had for a while based on how casually he discusses imitating Manuela’s roles on stage and on how his rivalry with Edelgard might conceivably develop. You can slap masculinity-related daddy issues onto this for extra angst, although I do like the fact that Ferdinand does not thoroughly hate his father like Hubert or Bernadetta and is genuinely upset upon learning of the man’s death. Hubert is almost definitely into it, and ironically he prefers Ferdinand to be sexually dominant when he’s in skirts and lingerie. Hubert totally wants Edelgard to step on him, and after a while he realizes that this is as close as he’s going to get to that fantasy.

Out in public however the two play it more traditionally although they make a spectacle of themselves simply by being two male bureaucrats (one sometimes appearing in a dress) who are obviously together and flaunting it.

I have an additional macabre headcanon that Hubert works this to his professional advantage. He raids the homes of the people he imprisons, tortures and kills under whatever flimsy pretext he cares to come up with, and apart from confiscating incriminating documents (possibly planted beforehand) and such he’ll also swipe their jewelry and accessories and fitting clothes and present them to his lover as gifts. Ferdinand is either none the wiser or knows better than to ask where Hubert got them, but he’s overjoyed at getting to wear all his little presents out to restaurants and the opera and Imperial balls..and he quickly learns to ignore all the horrified stares of the gathered socialites as they recognize the prime minister’s stolen finery and immediately connect it to the dark deeds of his sickly-grinning paramour. Edelgard pulls Hubert aside one evening and commends him for this stroke of brilliance, telling him that it’s a much neater and less barbaric reminder of the penalty for displeasing her than the old practice of spearing bloody heads on the gates.

Later that night Ferdinand tosses Hubert onto their bed, hikes up his skirt, and rides his lover’s dick so hard it’s nearly painful, demanding to be worshiped as “Your Majesty.” Hubert then realizes that Ferdinand knows exactly what’s going on, and stranger still is entirely into it.

Oh yeah, and Hubert has a small dick and is extremely insecure about it. This is part of a persistent silly headcanon I have that FE men with special blood (holy blood, Crests, etc.) are better-endowed than those without. Hubert is not happy when he first discovers that Ferdinand is bigger than him, and he dials up his overt and obviously compensating for something villainy even louder as a result. Ferdinand’s not complaining.

Dimidue

It’s harder to think of anything kinky for them when they’re so tender and vanilla. That’s not a bad thing and it fits better with their relationship dynamic, but it must be noted. I do think they experimented with one another in the time between when they met and the start of the game, and that Dedue’s declaration of vassalage was a public one and was meant by both of them to be analogous to marriage vows in an impulsive teenager sort of way. 

Also based on their C support, they used to bathe together. No one at the castle could find it in themselves to refuse the prince, although many found it strange.

Matching this, Dedue spent many nights at the monastery in bed with Dimitri, although it was mostly cuddling and quiet kisses so as not to wake anyone. This is how Dedue knows Dimitri’s sleeping patterns so well and comments on them in exploration dialogue.

Dimitri shared that he and Felix (and less often Sylvain) used to have similar intimate moments, and much later after a war and a reunion and probably their first few adoptions this will lead to them opening up their relationship. If Dedue bonds with Ashe pre-timeskip he also shares this with Dimitri, leading to similar results far down the line.

I’ve already outlined my headcanon for their ending in SS, so it stands to be mentioned here as the route allows for the possibility that Dimitri survives.

What were the mysterious “circumstances” that kept Dedue from tracking down Dimitri until Chapter 16? Repeated attempts to do exactly that which preventing him from healing from the wounds he sustained in Fhirdiad. The Duscur survivors taking care of him got extremely frustrated over the years, but they kept him in place until he was fit enough to travel to the monastery and beyond.

The two of them do get more adventurous after the war is over and they’ve spent some time having tender vanilla reunion sex with a lot of crying. Opening the royal bedchambers up to their many other lovers helps, but so does Dedue finally allowing himself to feel like his lover’s equal and playing around with that to its fullest extent. He laughs one night that it’s ironic that this only happened after Dimitri became a king, but Dimitri only responds with something characteristically sappy, like Dedue is a king to him or something.

[highqueenofelfhame]

Rowaelin gets pregnant after trying so hard and many failed attempts, make it super fluffy and make me cry with how in love they are thank you ily xxx

It wasn’t particularly unusual for her Royal Majesty the Queen to be late to breakfast. It was, however, unusual that she skip the meal entirely and not show up at any point in the hour. Usually she was roughly fifteen minutes late, slipping through the door behind Rowan’s seat and dropped a kiss to the side of his neck before plopping down into the seat next to his. This morning, the doors didn’t open except when the other males of the court filed into the dining hall. When he focused his ears in the direction of their rooms, he didn’t pick up on the familiar rise and fall of her walking pattern but picked up on nothing.

No Aelin.

“Did you see Aelin on your way down?” Rowan asked Fenrys, setting his cup of tea back on the saucer near his plate.

“I knocked but nobody answered. Last night she told me she wanted to go over —“ but Rowan was already pushing to his feet, the door slamming shut behind him. Distantly he heard Fenrys trail off and mumble a sarcastic good morning as he took off at a sprint, encouraging the wind to push him further, faster.

A century and a half and every time he wasn’t one hundred percent certain where she was, anxiety flooded his veins as though she were lost to him again.

So when he burst through the door of their rooms and found her sound asleep with her face burrowed into the blankets, his heart stuttered against his chest so hard he thought the bones might shatter. It took him a moment to ground himself, to breathe in her scent and let it soothe his lungs. Let the sight of her curled up in their bed burn into his memory to ease the image of her naked, chained in iron, and sobbing from the backs of his eyelids. It took him a moment, took him willing the tears away until he finally approached her and dropped to his knees at her bedside.

“Fireheart,” he said softly, his hand running down the side of her face and through her hair.

“I’m not feeling well.” Her voice was raspy and thick with sleep, the sound music to his ears. Aelin turned her face and left a lingering kiss on the palm of his hand that made his lips turn up into a smile.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

“I can’t move a rutting inch without being so nauseous I might die from it.” One of her turquoise eyes squinted open, a hand raising to shield her eyes from the sunlight coming in through the window. “It hit a few hours ago but I’ve had these off and on spells the last few days? But not this bad.”

Rowan frowned, green eyes scanning over her body as though he could see straight through the blankets and down to her body. Every atom of his being sang to protect her from the unseen threat, to pull what ailed her from her blood and never let it harm her again. “Maybe we should call for a healer.”

Aelin didn’t get the chance to respond because, as soon as the sentence had left his lips, she was doubled over the side of the bed and throwing up all over the King of Terrasen.

~*~

“You’re beautiful,” he told her, dabbing a washcloth along her brow. Aelin snorted and shoved his hand away, but Rowan simply laced their fingers and kissed her forehead.

“Of course I am. You’re lucky to have me.” It had been three days, and healers had been in and out of their quarters ever since. Over the course of the last few days Aelin had stayed in bed under the too-watchful eye of her mate.

Rowan was beginning to notice the way the hard and lean muscles that lined her body began to soften. Changes that were imperceptible to the human eye but to Rowan, she may as well have dyed her hair again. He didn’t miss anything when it came to his wife. The flat planes of her stomach had began to come to a curve ever so slightly and it seemed to be the only comfort that her soul wasn’t preparing to vacate her bones.

He couldn’t allow himself to entertain the alternative.

After the eighth day, the sickness eased to some degree. The Queen was prowling the castle again with her King always close behind or at her immediate side. By the tenth she was claiming to feel much better, but Rowan could still smell the sickness on her. It smelled sweet and twisted its way around her scent — even the parts that were twined with his own.

He watched her carefully though she complained. He helped her with all of the most basic parts of her work, even going as far as to help her sit. That seemed to annoy her the most, his hand on her elbow and the other on her back.

“You act like I’m an invalid.”

“I act like you were unable to get out of bed a week ago. I act worried.” She had rolled her eyes and tilted her chin up, offering pillowy lips for a soft and tender kiss.

On day nine, she had fainted while walking down the hall. Aelin had been mid-sentence, telling him he was a fussy buzzard and she was fine. It was the first time she had seemed agitated about any of it. Rowan had been the one to catch her.

“Is she okay?” He pressed, raking his fingers through silver hair as the healer left the room.

“She would like to speak with —“ the old woman didn’t get to finish before Rowan was inside and sitting on the edge of the bed. The color had bloomed back into her cheeks and her lips were no longer pale. He kissed her then, sighing when he felt her smile.

“Ro,” she whispered, her thumbs running over his cheekbones while he pressed soft kisses over her brow. “Rowan.”

Aelin’s hands caught his, lacing their fists into elegant knots that she brought to rest on her stomach. Her stomach that was more full and pronounced than it had ever been, swollen and protruding only just. It didn’t take much for him to realize it, for him to know what she was getting at. The thought that had been tugging at the edges of his mind for months now when she had first missed her cycle. The dream he hadn’t allowed himself to conjure because of the hundred and twenty-something years they had been trying to conceive a child to absolutely no avail. A dream they had started to accept as a living nightmare, that they may never have a child.

“You — we?” Words were lost, completely obliterated as she nodded and let out a quiet sob. Rowan’s face was instantly buried in her neck, breathing in deeper to melt the scent into every fiber of his being. His cheeks were rosy and wet with tears as he kissed her mouth over and over before trailing his mouth down to her navel, lips dragging against her skin.

“For this child I have prayed,” he whispered against her skin, his eyes looking up at the last living God and her in turn looking back down at him. The only deity he would ever kneel for or worship, aside from the sweet babe she now carried in her womb.

@starseternalnighttriumphant @musicmaam @city-of-fae @myfeyrelady @kandasboi @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @nalgenewhore @rhysands-highlady @tangledraysofsunshine @awesome--username

I just woke up sry if I didn’t tag

[spacegaywritings]

The one who’s royally fucked - Chapter 6 “A Kingdom of Misery” (END)

Once upon a time.. there was a vibecheck..  

Tags: it is a bad ending, I mean.. what do you expect. Also, consider every trigger warning I gave - especially the archive warnings because you HAVE BEEN warned

The room was filled with bantering, if not rather quiet.

Remy and Emile were holding hands, curiously eyeing the happenings before them as Patty carefully brushed over tainted skin and faint lines of violet glows that sprung from Virgil’s body.

She let her eyes slip shut and gradually felt the warmth ooze into her hands as she traced her touch over the seemingly lifeless body that was her sibling’s beloved partner and her own best friend.

 It had been more than a day ever since Virgil had passed out and while Logan had worked enough magic with Patty and their biology skills, the abused body was laying still and seemed unmoved after all. Nothing good nor bad could really stir from him.

 For the time being, Remus had been literally chained to Virgil.

When awake, he was able to give Remus freedom. However, being a ghost, he was invisible to others and rather powerless without more than enough will to move some objects and maybe annoy people a little. But with Virgil’s power connecting to him, he was able to be more than a ghost yet still less alive and enabled as a living being in the world of life and breath.

So, for now, he was holding onto the little life and light that was still burning in his master.

It was not just that he was literally bound to him and that all his steps depended on his survival and his whims.

 Remus liked the snarky man and enjoyed messing with him and getting real shit back without malice because one of them had hard feelings and at least they had stayed honest at all times unlike Roman. But Roman was a whole different story and he knew that.

 Probably, without even knowing him, the others knew as well.

That much just was obvious.

 Patty was moving her healing glow over Virgil again. Every so often, she would come in and check up on him, try to heal his wounds and energise him by exchanging power with him but it seemed to be to no avail.

Logan would always try to induce some things into his beloved.

 Ever since Roman had been defeated and thrown into jail (that bastard had the timing to just not get the swing in time before Virgil fainted so Remus has basically disappeared into another dimension of physical visibility to the others right when he had been ready to strike the other with his hammer), the group had moved into the castle and they had taken on the rule for the moment.

 The royal couple still seemed to be lost despite all guards having been sent out to find them or any clue that could lead up to them and just reach the King and Queen.

According to law, they were in legitimate line of ruling but Roman had taken over in their absence and nobody really had had the power to deny his deeds and wished. Especially not after he had murdered his own brother in apparently cold rage.

 Nobody would ever turn against a royal. The commoners knew better than to do so and the servants had suffered enough punishment to very much not start a riot no matter their dissatisfaction.

And on top of that, everyone knew someone who or did personally know at least one case of royals going insane and you did not want to get on their bad side. You wanted to wait and sit still until you could flee or take them down in a moment of weakness.

  And that is what they had all been doing.

 Waiting.

 Just waiting and nothing more.

 And when their moment has come, they had not dared to seize it but instead stayed loyal to the first best person to fit a crown and throne.

And really, you could say that one size fit them all.

 But back at the issue, even with yet another set of healing, Virgil remained still and would not budge even a single bit.

 The others could not see him but Remus did see them after all.

He saw them come to Virgil during days and nights. Talking to him, stroking his face. Healing him, reporting things and just begging him to wake up or get better - just please get well.

It was annoying and disgusting to see. It gave him a heat that was not anger and it was not lust either. It was a heat he wanted to push off and have it go away after all because it made something rise in him that he had never felt before, something he would never really care for.

 Patty stayed composed mostly but she seemed supported and close to tearing up a lot.

But Logan?

 Logan was about the worst.

 The leader of the group seemed stoic but their face had grown from apprehensive to distraught at nearly all times and there was a certain piece missing in this usual appearance. They did not just look out of place, but looked like they had rushed into everything and was neither prepared nor calm enough to even take another breath without a break.

 They would spend whole nights with Virgil, sleepless or passed out from exhaustion.

They would cry and talk and try to find things to heal him. They would study and sometimes just be quiet and whisper how much they loved and missed him and that they regretted their deed and what they had decided together.

 Remus was not sure what exactly they had meant but he would guess it was either about taking Virgil into the group and taking it so far to get not just a lot of people murdered on the way but also get him hurt. So hurt, he may not even survive, he may not wake up and be able to live life more than just waste his breath as he drifted further away from his friends and closer into Remus’ realm.

 Virgil would always dance between the life and death, the living and the dead creatures. He would probably never stop crossing lines and doing his graceful steps on them - each measured and perfectly coordinated to play with the balance but never quite tilt it - or his feral sprints. Sometimes, you just had to fuck over boundaries.

But if he did not wake up soon, this might be a thing he would have to try doing from the side of the deceased and Remus was not sure whether it worked that way.

 He was actually pretty sure that it was not.

 Logan had said something about Virgil’s chances sinking with every moment longer it took him longer to get his usual life together and just be and live and enjoy himself.

 Remus surely was not always around and he was not in the position to communicate with anyone other than people with Virgil’s magical ability but he knew that this was bad .. Not that he could tell them. He had no idea how to get this moving, how to make a change without being really able to influence the world with Virgil lacking the ability to enforce their connection and allow Remus to have an effect.

 Patty gave Logan another of these helpless looks.

She was usually so full of enthusiasm and energy.

Remus had been surprised at so much positive energy floating around one person’s moods so much that she would just counter all the bad and misery with little quirks and jokes. She was always there for others and constantly looked out for them, even wiping another’s cheek when her own eyes were drowning in the hot saltiness of her own frustration.

 The leader shook their head and stormed out of the room.

It was a common occurrence but it never ceased to make Patty tear up in guilt and have Remy suck in a breath.

Whether he wanted to protest or not, he kept quiet and he would just keep it to Emile and Patty with clenched teeth and helplessly angry hands.

 The others left right after. It was slow and sad. Their movements mimicking the march of a grieving bunch that attended the funeral of a beloved one who was too far gone to ridicule the fashion crimes of people walking around in so much black without irony in it.

Virgil would certainly complain about that.

Heck, he would too! All-black was so tasteless if not in well put-together variations of some sort of clue.

 Once the room was empty, the silence among the little riot seemed to fade into a more intense elation rather than a funeral mood.

Remus sat down, letting his ghost butt rest on the bed as he fell through Virgil.

He could not even touch him in this state, not really. He had tried before and now there was just nothing and he felt so odd and weird about this. Usually, he would always be able to touch Virgil even when the other restricted his powers to not let Remus touch others.

 Despite having been a ghost when they had met for the first time, the Duke had always had the power to create things like he had been before.

With Virgil, he had been connected to the present so he would be able to just dip in and let his creativity be shared with the world and let the planet tremble from his actions.

 The ghost glanced over the unmoving body.

It was still quite the sight to have Virgil there with closed eyes. Even asleep he had always seemed to struggle in fights, ready to claw your throat out if you dared closing in too much. And this was coming from Remus, a ghost who could and would and actually did try these thing, so he absolutely knew what he was talking about.

It felt so wrong, it felt as if all deities, people could and would believe in or ever did and will come up with for worshiping purposes, just pissed all over the world and broke the contract of keeping order in the universe.

 Everything was broken and chaotic but the world outside was so normal, so threateningly normal. It was basically an insult to see everything go on, the tides still work, the winds blowing and the earth trembling as the temperatures fell further and the trees turned red and purple and silver as winter approached.

Yes! Even the stupid seasons were still in order and came according to their turn and took over their duties of fulfilling their jobs and changing the worlds in the regular rhythm of their five seasons.

 It was wrong.

It was not fair!

No order and law should be in place with Virgil falling and suffering while the liquid rain solidified enough to make little flakes of silver travel down the way and land on the floor to decorate the world in the pale silverish glimmer of cold.

No order should be in the world when Virgil was not fighting anymore but also still struggling as he seemed peaceful on the outside.

 Remus leaned over him.

He knew he was being overly dramatic right now, thirsting after a touch just out of reach, a person he would never be able to warm and a closeness he would fly right through even if he actually was a materialised person.

There was no reason, no logic or any way in which he could ever get a sweet taste of Logan’s place, he would never see Virgil’s cool eyes light up with joy and spark in mischief for him because he was just a noisy ghost who promised him to help bringing down the tyranny of his brother.

Why, Virgil had asked but Remus would just shrug and always say that it was for fun.

 The ghost whisperer probably noticed the resemblance of their faces and bodies as soon as Roman had been in front of him and started being a terrible, delusional piece of shit.

Roman’s mind, at some point, must have been put into a pot with stew and mixed through enough to just be all over the place and blended in with all the trash that was now his thoughts. Otherwise, there would just be no explanation for him to be such a twisted little malice.

 He reached out and let his fingers ghost over Virgil’s face.

It was bullshit but he could imagine the warmth he was longing for just tickling his finger tips and teasing into his body with little tingles and soft sparkles that reminded him of fire magic and artistic light work.

But he knew better, he knew so much better and the joyous smile that deceitfully stole itself onto his mouth just dropped as he realised how he had gotten too absorbed in the sonnet of false hope that were his thoughts. His fingers fell through the skin and he felt an odd, blocking sensation within him as his hand nearly disappeared in Virgil’s head.

 Usually, he did these things to mess around, to play a little with how much people would freak out about these things. After all, he could drive into someone’s body or charge at them without actually interacting with them on a physical level that could leave them to collisions.

Remus was left wondering about how Virgil’s nose would scrunch up at his silly shenanigans while the younger one was panicking about trivial things such as whether this mushroom was poisoned. It was a common mushroom and he had left it without supervision for a second. When surrounded by friends!

 “You are dumb, Virgil. Very very silly.”

 The ghost smiled and looked over at the sleeping beauty before him, the dying undead who jumped off the tip of Death’s blade in fear just because dying seemed too stressful and implied a workload that made the man too anxious to function.

It sounded ridiculous but really, Remus had seen Virgil merely making it because the idea of dying got him into the incredible survival mode of somehow getting out alive just because he could and had to and his fucking stubbornness was all that would get him through the night.

 Virgil truly was the epitome of a miracle if not the personification of spite.

 “You are even too stubborn to wake up, emo, are you not?”

 His lips twisted downwards and his eyes cast down to the slowly moving chest. The tiny heart in it was still trembling enough to shake the whole body it was inhabiting. This was just about how weak he was, even after Logan and the others made sure to use all the spells and magical knowledge they could muster up just to nourish the other.

Over injections and similar methods, they have literally exhausted all the practices Remus has ever heard of and even freshly learned ones due to their odd yet somewhat effective ideas.

He was sure cures for several ills have been found during these attempts. But none of those were the unfair damage that was taking down Virgil.

  Speaking of which, he seemed less bony but he was still too small and fragile for a person of his age. Which was .. basically an adult, in human years, was he not?

 The dead prince let his fingers retreat and he trailed them down to his chin, the perfectly sculptured downward hill simply reminding him of how strange the other was.

He had all these thoughts and problems that Remus never had ever since he had been adopted by the royal family when they thought they could not have a legitimate heir to the throne.

After all, he was just a fill in but then there was his half brother who was not a denied-then-accepted bastard excuse of a social reject.

 Remus sighed.

Tears were marking his cheeks with blackish colour as he filled himself with the poisonous emotions of memories with Virgil by his side - or rather him by the side of Virgil in his annoying yet absolutely helpful glory of screaming ‘’juicy butthole’’ while taking down a particularly snarky enemy. The squashy sound that would come with it usually made him laugh in mania.

 The black dropped down and down from his cheeks, tainting his greenish appearance that represented the colour of his vibes.

Coal-coloured rivers fled from his body and sank down like the foolish ash rain of his dying macabre jokes whenever he tried to just be extra enough for a little bit of attention.

 Virgil had not even been like this. Neither had the rest of his group after they had found out about him.

 “It’s not fair!”

His words were choked down by his own sobs. The ghost who shimmered like transparent algae was trembling.

Virgil was his only friend, the only reason he did have friends ever in his life. No people judging him to be a proper person and dressed well.

 Remus curled up and sighed as he rested next to Virgil, their faces nearly touching.

The patient was facing the ceiling, hence not ‘looking’ back at him. It still felt so close, so intimate and Remus could hear his own existence tremble before the divination of actions and thoughts he was entitled to.

Things even he should not be thinking or joking about.

  Remus felt himself being absorbed in the tears that pearled over his cheeks and stained the sheets under him. Precious black deepened the fabric beneath his body.

The world around him seemed to blur away with the liquid veil that covered his sight and messed with his vision enough to make him doubt reality.

It might very much be that he was losing his manifestation more and more at the moment and would fully glide through all matter if he did not focus on existing in the here and now. He wanted to stay in the living world with the others, he really did but he did not know how to fight the urge of throwing it all away.

 Seeing his little master like this just.. hurt.

It hurt on a level different than being stabbed. When he focused on that pain, he could summon the memory and relive his own death again, feel the splitting of his flesh and the piercing sensation burst through his rib cage and destroy the integrity of his chest.

It was another thing for him

The pain was within him, deeply buried in his whole existence and it was weaved into every fiber of his being. The little net of his cells was glowing with pain and throbbing due to the unbelievable variable of him continuing to be when others may not.

 Remus curled into himself.

‘’Emo’’, he sniffed softly as his insides seemed to stir. 

It hurt so much…

 He was but a ghost but he felt obliged to let go of all the things within him but he was no living being anymore yet he still denied death. He was forced into making it through, bearing all the pain he could not project onto something or someone.

There was no escape, no coping. All his anguish was instilled in him.

 The ghost reached out for Virgil, his fingers curling around his chin again.

‘’You tickle me’’, he mumbled.

And he did. The punk did, his little master always did! And he was the only one.

He tickled his insides and stirred up all the things he ignored with his silly comments and sexual innuendos he would bring up just to shut out all problems and issues in his head and instead get back on track with disgusting facts and various imaginations that nobody wanted to participate in.

 Royals were supposed to smile and drown in gluttony and sin.

 His grip slipped and his hand dropped from Virgil’s face to his unconscious chest.

It was only moving with the regular breath in and out that came and went when the lungs decided to.

But it was also very much moved by the sudden coughs that came from the small man’s chest.

 Remus jerked up into a sitting position, suddenly stricken by the power of a lightning bolt when he saw the chest contracting and the little body shaking under the warming blanket that was drawn over the little magical being.

Was he dying? Was he coughing? Was that bad???

He should get Logan, he should get Patty or someone, just someone but they could not see him so he would just have to make noise, big big bad noise so they would understand that something was happening and that the little guy needed a lot of help and maybe was choking.

 Shit, did he do that?

 “Of course people choke! Virgil is not dead, silly!”

 Remus pulled himself up and was more than ready to simply bodyslam himself into the next shelf and wreck total havoc within just a mere moment because if that was all it needed to get the attention to the little bean, then he would do that.

Before he could, however, his eyes caught sight of the golden that had shimmered under Virgil’s eyelids for too long and finally went back to streaming into the world and brightening the day.

 His body quickly started feeling warm again, a flame raising in him and his ghost form quickly materialised enough to be visible to the whole of the living world.

The Duke blinked and stared back as the snarling yet soft golden treasure wired into his soul and seemed to hug him without a single motion. His whole heart was wrapped up in the imaginary embrace of seeing the other move to retreat into his little ball of softness as he pulled the blankets around him with weak paws at the soft fabric around him.

 ‘’Emo!! You are alive’’, he cheered loudly as he threw himself onto the other and gained a yelp in return as the other scrambled to stay on his butt and curled up against the wall as he tried to remain in his seated position.

‘’You are alive! I thought you would join me in being a cute little ghost and stop looking so ridiculously dead under these funny sheets!! I mean- you kind of gave me vibes to wrap you up like a mummy and maybe suck your toes but I forgot I don’t really exist anymore, so-’’

 The master sighed and carefully pushed at the other’s chest with tired attempts at moving his arms fully in the first place.

‘’The fuck’’, he whispered with a broken voice. His sentence was twisted like mosaic but just as beautiful yet nearly impossible to make out its origin.

Good thing Remus was a master of the odd and quickly retreated to pet Virgil’s hair and gently soothe him.

 ‘’Let me get Logan. You need to swallow some stuff to get your voice buttered up and I only have my cock to offer’’, he proposed eventually and carefully patted his head again before he swept out of the room and came back just a felt heartbeat later with Logan trailing right behind him, nearly running through Remus as the ghost quickly flew around to settle at the other side of the bed while Logan quickly rushed to where Remus had previously settled to stare the patient into life.

 ‘’Nerd, your joyfriend needs some oiling so he can sing again when you make him happy’’, he commented with his voice scratching the chalkboard in excitement. Why did Remus have such a cranky voice? It was about as smooth as swallowing a shot of white vinegar.

Virgil did not do much more but groan and stick his tongue out at Remus but when Logan sat down by his side, he sighed and simply let himself be immersed in the warmth of Logan and the strong hold of their arms that he could have only dreamed of in his last waking moments.

 Basically, he fell unconscious in Logan’s arms and woke up with the other being around again. Once again, his body was in the direct presence of Remus and Logan at the same time.

Funny.

The dizzy man carefully dipped his arms against the blanket and helplessly nudged the heavy cloth as he could not even move it enough to get it off. It was too heavy, too much.

Why was he so weak… He had not felt that heavy before..

 ‘’mm.. l-lo..’’, he mumbled softly before he started coughing just a bit again and Logan silenced him with a little smooch to his forehead.

  There were serenades of feelings under Logan’s tongue, sparks of compliments and praises to all powers they believed and did not believe to exists just to show the immense gratitude they felt for Virgil finally being awake and looking back up at them.

They wanted to, they wanted to speak to him so bad, tell the truth of their feelings and unleash the beast of feelings they had for their right-hand man.

 It was no secret they were close, dating.

Logan just felt they did not let their partner know enough about their mentality towards the other being not just alive but also willingly by their side when they were stoic and blunt more often than not.

 But the hopes and sparks vanished.

With a door opened and icy air falling through them, the light and warmth was blown away and Logan realised that their love’s life had been long gone and all that had him seem alive was the magic of his existence transcending from here to .. to nowhere.

Just barely out of reach.

 For once, being split was not so much fun. It was no fun at all and did not give him any kind of advantage or secret trick that would help them out.

This had not been planned.

 Their attempts at giving Virgil a meaningful kiss to his forehead ended up being nothing but an idiot pursing their lips at the air while nearly pushing their head into the headboard with full force and enthusiasm.

There was nothing but the essence of Virgil floating around them in icy spills running down their spines as if to mimic the soothing touch of their beloved that would travel down their back and pull them closer until they were so close, their hearts were excitedly jumping at one another and kissing through their chests connecting.

 The punk was there, in full glory, in all his body even with the clothes he would usually wear when together with the others.

His patched up jacket with large stitches and messy patterns of plaid purple covering the basic, black jacket that was thin and worn out so much, it frequently displayed more and more spaces of fabric that rubbed away so much, it was see-through a lot. Hence the many many patches. There was more patch than jacket by now.

 Virgil felt the other fall through him and both pulled apart, shivering and crossing their arms over their chests in order to touch something that was more like them, more like the kind of being and the world they belonged to.

 The second in command looked back at them and blinked, his heart... empty. There was no feeling, no nothing. It was cold like his whole existence and it was merely wavering around in this world, unfinished and unprepared for life and death all-together.

 “What..”, Logan asked.

Their words were light and intangible. The questions were far away from his intentions, the answers he could and should take and the huge abyss between these dimensions of warming dreams with heart and soul and the contrast of the harsh reality punching them all in their guts when they were already on the ground and wincing in obvious pain.

 A silence stretched between them. Long and thick like an empty road that painted the difference of the two worlds they were in.

They were right before one another, they were so close yet so distant.

 Virgil was void of feelings of any physical body. Except for the discomfort and the icy feeling running through his insides like ice water running through him like the river of defrosted glacier water.

All he felt was the mental pain of being wretched away from the one he loved when they were right in front of him.

Logan before him, Remus basically next to him.

 “I think Virgil’s fate finally settled on a secure answer.”

 Well, that comment, as much as it seemed insensitive to others, was something Remus ripped from his throat as he tried to sound over the breaking and falling hopes he used to have in his own heart.

He wanted to be happy Virgil was with him now, was close to him and in his world and realm but not once before in their time spent together had they encountered the issue of non-interaction with one another since Virgil had been in the perfect place to be with the living and dead all along.

Now he was stuck, stuck here with him and whether he wanted to love it or not, he could not, would not. For all it had done to him was take his long-term beloved away from him and leave him without the support he had wished for in his whole life.

 Virgil shot the other a glance, helpless and lost. Short of breath as he was about to drown in the raging sea and never make it back up to live for another breath of sweet oxygen or a glance through the salty veil of the sea to the beauty around him and the assembled orchestra of water crashing and thunder flashing around him.

 “I ...I can still be with you”, he insisted and took a deep breath, “ I love you, Logan! We can stay together. I am still here - it must be my power!”

 Maybe he was high on being a damn ghost. Maybe he lost more than their weight of a physical vessel but also his fucking mind. All he knew was how his chest was unusually free - breath a matter of everyone but him.

 Logan was reaching out for him, love and welcomes on their lips -

“I can be with you Logan!”, he sounded

 Virgil’s voice dissolved into the empty echo of nothing as finally, his self was soaked up and Logan’s unbelieving eyes stared into nothing but a bed. Empty with Virgil’s abandoned corpse in it.

New tears were spilling as Remus witnessed the two lovers break down, fully torn apart by now.

 He could not make it work.

None of them could, neither alone nor together.

 Virgil’s body was Logan’s shoulder to cry on as they mourned the loss of their datemate, their soulmate.

 Remus could hear heart-wretching cries from the two as he allowed himself to relish in the masochism of watching two people he adored fall and die and inevitably suffer because and in place of the other.

He seated himself between them, seeing that they were, as always, so close and so divided.

 Roman really did rule a whole kingdom. And poisoned the foundation is was supposed to regrow on.

 Salty tears did not make an ingredient in the conditions of nurturing life - or allowing it in the first place.

With Roman’s deeds and Virgil’s corpse, all hope of Logan taking over had been diminished.

 Sometimes, there was no good and bad. And where there was no good nor bad, there could be nothing but endings that fell into the category of neither.

It was just a kingdom of misery that was life.

 ‘*** A/N:  (post-reading note: to make it clear: Virgil was born in a body assigned as female but met Dee who magically fixed that because Dee is magic. Roman is abolutely out of his mind and twisted in jealousy. After he had killed his half brother, his insanity dropped into destruction of all life. His dad was the king, his mother was a servant. When The Queen did not produce children herself, they settled on adopting Remus and declaring him a chosen child of royalty (he did have creative powers! He can create things, even as ghost) but then the King heard of Roman and acknowledged him as child.Remus IS older so he was the prince but Roman wanted to be more important, more than a bastard. He did not kill his parents but nobody can find them.Virgil is beyond living and the dead, as he always had been. He is in a special ever after because he doe not belong with ghosts like Remus. Him coughing was his last breath, basically. When he got up and Remus hugged him, it was Virgil slowly merging from the mortal world into the world of the dead so Remus saw him pass his realm for a bit.Virgil can still see Logan and Remus but they cant interact.)

[laseralovelycave]

My GilHaku headcanon

Ok first time writting a headcanon so guys be kind to me. This will be about their normal day life.

1. Gil is a king so when they actually intend to build a place to live, he wants to build a fucking castle. Thankfully, with all her efforts in pursuing him to make at most, a mansion. They ended up building the biggest mansion everywhere they go.

2. Thanks to Gil’s arrogance, not want to help in any chores, Hakuno becomes a wonderful housewife. She learns how to cook and do the chores all by herself. At least Gil gave her candies for her hard work and took care of things involved strength and money.

3. Before they actually be in a relationship, Hakuno slept alone while Gil was sitting on the throne and watch her sleep. When they are in a relationship, he insists on sleeping with her and always used her at a human pillow. She gets used to it eventually and its becomes their habit, cuddle up with each other every night.

4. In the morning, Gil loves to have Hakuno in his arm and watch her sleeping face every time he has the chance since Hakuno usually wake up early to make breakfast, if that the case, Gil would actually come to her and hug her from the back while she is cooking.

5. Hakuno afraids to go shopping with Gil. He would make her wear everything he seem fit and even buy all of the clothes she tried on. Sometime he would make her choosing clothes for him. The worst is when they passed a jewelry shop. He would took her in with him and see if there was anything he seem as “Good enough for my Master”

5.5. Gil insists on given her the most beautiful jewelry and clothes so she actually has a wardrobe full of most expensive amd beautiful clothes and jewelry. She rarely wears the jewelry but she would wear the clothes, because at least, they were not as bad as she has thought when he said that he has bought clothes for her. And also she didn’t want Gil to be upset because she didn’t wear any of it or complaining about her choice of fashion. She needs a break from the complaints !

6. Gil never said “I love you” in front of her, but when he talks about her to anyone especially Enkidu or someone he respects like Islandar. It will all be compliments and his voice full of pride in his little Mongrel. He will talk a lot but in short “She is wonderful, perfect, beautiful in her own way, you all would love for her kindness and worship her for everything she had and will do” and he doesn’t even denied it when some of those people he talked to said that he loves her a lot.

6.5. Hakuno will also praise him but not in front of him, not so usual, because that man would get more arrogant than he usually is and would talk about it everytime. It’s good distraction and it’s also calm him down and make his mood better (Only if he is not so angry that his killing intent is so easy to feel and his voice shows no more argument). She sometime said “I love you” too but for the same reason, not so often. It effects is higher than the praise in some situations ( when he jealous for example)

7. Once Gil gets blind by his own rage that he made stupid decisions which could killed or hurt many people, Hakuno would slap him straight in the face so that he would move his rage to her and focus on her. At least with that, Hakuno has the chance to talk him out of it and actually calm him down, Gil would not hurt her, and even if he did, she would accept it if that mean he would listen to her. It not happen a lot, usually when it’s involved someone try to steal his things or dare to touch her.

7.5. Everytime he did hurt her, he would feel guilty and actually apologized after the problem was solved. Hakuno would hug him, cuddling on the bed and she would said that she didn’t mind it, it’s hurt but he didn’t mean to hurt her and she has prepared for this since the day she contracted with him and be in a relationship with him. For that Gil loves her more and more.

8. It’s like a curse that everywhere Hakuno go, people fall in love with her and Gil has the job to make those who thinks they could make Hakuno leaved him and stayed with them disappeared from their sight. He would complaint about this but never actually blame her because his mongrel is a treasure of unknown value, of course no one could resist her.

9. Gil has a secret album full of Hakuno’s picture. He secretly takes picture of her eveytime she didn’t notice and when she too focus on something that she didn’t know she was smiling and Gil sees it so he just takes a picture of it. He never let she knows of course.

10. Hakuno , in the adventure among the stars with Gil, loves to learn about their culture while Gil like to see their creations at every planet they went to. So Hakuno has quite a large knowledge about planet, difference kind’s culture and even languages, thanks to the fact that she is a NPC, she has that skill of language understanding and learning which sometime freak those she talking to but make Gil proud of his Master.

[douxreviews]

American Gods - ‘Donar the Great’ Review

Shadow: "If I upset you back there…" Wednesday: "It wasn’t you. Ghosts from the past."

American Gods serves up its first unequivocal triumph of the season.

There have been good episodes in season two prior to this one, I want to make that clear. But 'Donar the Great' is the first time all year that I haven't been mentally comparing what I'm watching to the previous season at any point. 'Donar the Great' is, as described, great. Really, really great.

We're told a story in two halves. On the one hand, we're told the story of that time back in the late 1930s when Wednesday was known as Al Grimnir and owned a burlesque club in Chicago. On the other we watch as the present day Wednesday and Shadow continue in their attempt to get Wednesday's spear fixed; a quest in which Lou Reed features to a surprising and delightful degree. Sprinkled between these two plotlines we get a few check-ins with Mr. World and New Media, primarily just to remind us that they're still out there.

Since that strand of the episode is the least of the three, let's talk about that one first. Last week I complained a bit about the fact that they wasted a lot of time getting Shadow and Wednesday to the Dwarf-king so that they could get the spear fixed, only to be told that he couldn't do it and they'd have to go see a different dwarf instead. I said then, and stand by the statement, that this was a huge waste of time in the episode that could have been better spent exploring Samedi and Brigitte.

The same is not true of the side scenes with New Media and Mr. World this week, for a couple of reasons. First, they're far briefer, and so they don't feel as intrusive. Second, and more pertinently, they don't promise a plot development and then at the last second announce that they aren't going to do that after all and, 'oops, I guess we'll have to wait till next week, sorry.' Instead, Mr. World, New Media, and that third guy (who I think is supposed to be someone called 'The Caretaker', if IMDb is to be believed) achieve a few small things and then get out of the episode's way.

First, they establish that Mr. World is making tactical strikes in the coming war; a truck driver killed with a hammer, a lobster tank smashed, etc. Speaking of, if those strikes he references actually refer to something specific that I'm not picking up on, could you please mention it in the comments, because I have nothing. Second, they establish that New Media is 'powering up' somehow by rousing her followers in what I think was Japanese, but could be wrong. Why he needs her to do this we don't yet know. Third, they plant the seed that New Media needs more tech support and that the boys in the valley assure Mr. World that their 'new friend' would be ready 'in time.' I'm just going to say what we're all thinking; they're setting up a new version of Technical Boy, hence keeping Bruce Langley around this week in the flashback. I'm OK with that, if it means more Bruce Langley.

As to the burlesque flashbacks, all I can say is that they were wonderful and I want them to do a touring show so I can go see them live every single night. Ian McShane absolutely crushes his role as Al Grimnir, and I'm very surprised to check out his Wikipedia page and find out that he doesn't have any background in Broadway or musical theater, because he owns it. I wouldn't describe his voice as strong in a traditional sense, but it's just dripping with character and what I can only describe as salesmanship. Someone please cast him as Billy Flynn in a revival of Chicago, sooner rather than later.

It was a good decision to go with the name 'Donar,' rather than the more recognized 'Thor' for Odin's son, by the way. Derek Theler absolutely hits it out of the park, playing a very different take on this god, but it was wise of them to do as much as they could not to invite comparisons with Chris Hemsworth, when what they're doing with that particular god is so vastly unrelated to what Marvel is doing.

What they're doing, as you ask, is a really nice riff on the classic 'boy and girl fall in love and plan to run away together to escape the dire circumstances of their lives, but are tragically prevented from doing so by cruel twists of fate.' There are hundreds of examples of this story, but West Side Story and the stage version of Little Shop of Horrors are the first examples that leap to mind.

Fate, in this case being Mr. Wednesday/Al Grimnir/Odin, who reminds us forcefully in this episode that he's an untrustworthy bastard who will do anything to achieve his own goals. His desire for a new source of worship leads him to destroy both his own son and Columbia, whom he seems to be fond of prior to ruining her.

Lastly, we have Wednesday and Shadow giving a eulogy for shopping malls and conning their way into possession of Lou Reed's jacket, as it's the most powerful object in the mall, and Dvalin the dwarf needs power if he's going to fix the runes on Wednesday's spear. One thing the series has been very clear on is that all of the gods' power comes from belief. Wednesday even explicitly says so this week. With that in mind, it makes perfect sense that Lou Reed's jacket would be a source of power. Wednesday's description of Lou Reed's importance is not wrong. The Velvet Underground's first album is often described as, 'It was purchased by 200 people. And every single one of them went out and formed a band that changed the world.' That sentence is true.

As a bonus, the way they get the jacket,'The Bishop Game' con, is described in the novel in conversation, but it's so much better to see it acted out here, particularly with Shadow being part of it instead of just hearing about it.

Quotes:

Wednesday: "Playing dead convincingly is an underrated skill."

Wednesday: "Dies irm, dies illa, Solvet saeclum in favilla. Teste David cum Sibylla." These are the opening lines of the Requiem Mass, and the amount of contempt that Ian McShane manages to put into them is amazing.

Nancy: "Double up on that nipple tape, Ecdysiasts, nobody comin’ her to see your areolas. It’s Donar’s moose knocker that brings all the boys to the yard."

Nancy: "Get yo’ face out the mirror. Get your ass on the stage. I’m gon’ count to seven. And I’m starting at four!"

Wednesday: "What say you, son of Emir? Want to etch my runes?"

Manfred the Nazi: "We’re an organization with American values, and we see those values in you. Strength, confidence, good breeding. Donnie… what’s your last name?" Donar: "I don’t have one."

Donar: "I accept your proposition, fiend of Germany."

Music store guy: "Want to try this puppy on?" Wednesday: "Is Martin Luther a Lutheran?" Music Store Guy: "…Yes…? I have no idea."

Donar: "Humans serve us, not the other way around."

Bits and Pieces:

-- So Columbia was essentially the first 'Goddess of America', based on how America saw itself in the beginning. That's actually more or less true, by the way. Her name was derived from Christopher Columbus, and it's why the Capitol is Washington District of Columbia.

-- Which means that Donar's sin, from Odin's point of view, was falling in love with America instead of siding with him, and by proxy the old countries.

-- It's implied that due to event here Columbia gave in to Technical Boy (then Telephone Boy) and rebranded herself for the war effort, becoming Rosie the Riveter, hence the presence of that poster behind Donar in his room in 1942.

-- One of the interesting threads this season is the way it's making it clear that the stark delineation between new gods and old gods is basically a load of horseshit. Columbia got replaced by a rebranding of a Roman Goddess, Libertas. Telephone Boy is warned here that eventually the telephone won't be the cool new thing, and we see the beginning of his evolution into Technical Boy. All the gods we see are in a constant process of evolving or withering.

-- That said, we're all agreed that immediately after this Columbia went to Frank-N-Furter's castle and hung out until the '70s, right? Because I need these two properties to exist in continuity with one another.

-- Wednesday's burlesque house is very gay friendly, and is openly acknowledged to be so. This confirms that he just enjoys teasing Ifrit and Salim and isn't particularly bothered or surprised by their relationship. But we kind of knew that.

-- Hello, muscly cowboys.

-- It makes sense that a success for the Nazis would actually have been a plus for Wednesday. As the Wagner we hear tonight reminds us, the Nazis were huge into Norse mythology. Wednesday would have been rolling in belief if they'd won.

-- Sindri the dwarf has a curious reaction when he hears Shadow's name, which we never get an explanation for. Are we going to find out why?

-- Both Derek Theler and Laura Bell Bundy brought it and brought it hard as guest stars this week. I'd happily have either or both back any time.

-- Nobody really believes that Donar committed suicide, right? That shot was very carefully framed so that we saw Donar's hand on the barrel of the shotgun, but did not see the stock or the trigger. We're all pretty much assuming Wednesday pulled the trigger, right?

An absolute gem of an episode. It's not quite 'A Prayer for Mad Sweeney,' but it's very, very close.

Hey, it's the little girl from the first Jumanji film.  Yeah, feels creepy now, doesn't it.

Just the tiniest bit under four out of four moose knockers.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[fxycu]

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So it only makes sense that his latest venture is a mammoth tag team effort with photographer Michael Rauner, air max 90 ultra se a glossy elephantine photo/text exploration through all of this state's bizarre spiritual trajectories.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: The Swiftest Course (Ao3) (Chapter 3/8)

Fandom: Flash, DC’s Legends Pairing: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Mick Rory, Eddie Thawne/Iris West Summary:

Barry of Allen is on his way to the capital of Tortall for the final part of his knight training, hiding a secret that could threaten his career there. He’s determined to keep his head down and not get into trouble.

He isn’t expecting to meet Len, Corus’ Rogue, or his right-hand man, Mick. Or meet Princess Iris and his new friends, Cisco and Caitlin.

He certainly wasn’t expecting to be roped into adventure.

(It’s the Gods’ fault, really.)

A/N: For joyous-lee, who purchased one of my stories for the FandomTrumpsHate event. She requested a Tortall AU, with Barry as Alanna. Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope you enjoy it!

——————————————————————————————–

"So you put the bastard in his place?" Len asks.

"Yeah! It was great," Barry replies, trying to flip Len over his hip.

It's cute that he thinks that'll work.

Len swipes Barry's legs out from under him and pins him. "Congrats. That must've been satisfying."

"You have no idea," Barry says effusively even as he struggles to escape. "Seeing Tony Woodward slink away after kicking his ass three times in a row - brilliant. He avoids us now. Which is good, since the trip's coming up next week."

He gives up and taps out. Len rolls off of him with a smirk and offers him a hand up, which Barry accepts.

"One more for me," Len tells Mick, who's keeping score in a little red book.

"I don't know why you guys keep count," Barry complains. "I'm never going to beat you."

"Hope is important," Len says. "Also, I'm teaching you all about the noble art of rubbing someone's face in it."

Barry snickers.

"What trip?" Mick asks.

"We're going to the rainforest," Barry says, unable to keep a rueful smile off his face.

"Ah, yes, the rainforest," Len says gleefully. "Old Queen Tallesin's folly."

"It true that she was trying to fix things?" Mick asks. He doesn't always know Tortall legends, being as he is from the middle of nowhere.

"Yep," Barry says. "She was trying to create a new stable ecology for the region or something like that, I think she was saying, but at any rate, she meant to do it by abusing the Dominion Jewel which, uh, didn't work. Legend has it that the Jewel went nuts, created the rainforest and the new southern ridge of mountains, and then leapt by itself into the Mouth of the Salamander."

"Which hadn't even existed before then," Len puts in. "She gave us our first active volcano, like losing the Dominion Jewel wasn't enough."

"And you're going there?" Mick asks Barry. He's got a strange look on his face.

"Yeah, it's the annual trip. We were going to go to the desert, but there's murmurs of unrest, so we're going to the rainforest instead. They're using all the hostels in the desert to host real knights, you see, and mages, too."

"Unrest?"

"Someone swears they've found the remnants of the crystal sword."

"The one that got, uh, eaten when some mage tried a spell to pull it out of the Corus Gate some hundred years ago? That's absurd,” Len scoffs. “Why in the world would it be in the desert?"

"Well, you know, the crystal sword was originally found in the desert.”

“Yeah, but the Lioness' Lightning was found in Olau, according to the legend, and you don’t get much further from the desert than Olau.”

“Well, yeah. But someone said something and then people started fighting - you know how people are about legends."

"True," Len concedes. "Sounds like a fun trip. Have fun."

"We're going," Mick says.

"We're what?" Len yelps. He knows Mick's serious tone. "No, we're not."

"Yes, we are." Mick's voice is pleasant, level, and utterly final.

"I'm the Rogue - I can't just leave Corus at the drop of a hat -"

"Barry's not leaving till next week," Mick points out. "It'll be a good test for your lieutenants. A much needed one. Hartley, Mardon and Shawna all need some independence to see how they'll do."

"Well, I guess..."

"Wait, are you guys serious?" Barry asks, brightening. "That's fantastic!"

He leaps straight at Len, enveloping him in an utterly unexpected hug, making Len topple backwards with a yelp.

"I'm counting that one as one of Barry's," Mick says, smirking.

Len makes a rude gesture in his direction.

Barry does him one better, though, scrambling up from where he's pinning Len to leap at Mick.

"I'm the score-keeper," Mick yelps. "No fair attacking the score-keeper!"

"It's affection, you dumbasses, not attacks!"

"Help, Len! He's got his paws all over me!" Mick wails melodramatically even as he wraps his arms back around Barry for a great bear hug. "Assault! Assault! Summon the Lord Provost! Rogue, I petition you! Help!"

Len is laughing way too hard to say anything snarky.

"I'm the one being assaulted!" Barry laughs. "Mithros, but you're strong."

"You should see me with fire," Mick says, putting Barry back down. "Now get you back to the court adjacent; Len and I need to pack and figure out travel plans."

"Sad but true," Len says, shaking his head as if it can clear the grin on his face. "We'll meet you there. You lot are staying in Castle Perilous, right?"

"It's so badly named," Barry replies, nodding. "That's a way to make someone feel safe, isn't it? Castle Perilous."

"I heard," Mick says solemnly, "that it got that name because it was built on a swamp."

"It was?"

"Oh, yes," Mick says. "See, the first version sank into the swamp. But that didn't stop them - they built a second, stronger one. Which also sank into the swamp. The third one burned down. Fourth one also sank. But the fifth one stayed up!"

Barry gapes at him. "That's awful!"

Mick starts laughing.

"Is any of that true?!" Barry exclaims.

"Given that we heard it in a comedic minstrel performance last week," Len says, biting his lip, "I'm going to say that I doubt it."

"You guys are assholes," Barry tells them, still smiling. "I'll go tell the others; they'll be delighted to hear. See you - huh, I guess if the trip's next week and you're coming, I guess I'll see you there."

"Guess you will," Len says.

----

He waits until Barry's gone and down the street to turn to Mick. "Well?"

"What?"

"Why are we really going? You don't ask for pleasure trips, not like that."

Mick frowns. "You won't believe me."

That, in turn, makes Len frown. "Mick. You're my partner. Of course I believe you."

"I saw an image of a city hidden in the rainforest," Mick says. "In the fire."

"What fire? Mithros' fires, by his temple? One of the other gods?" Len hadn't known Mick even went to those. By and large, Mick is remarkably disdainful of the gods, even though by all accounts he'd grown up in the general religion. He doesn't even have Len's excuse of being born and raised a follower of Mother Flame, She and She Alone, a group that acknowledges the existence of the gods but maintains that they are mere children of the Mother and therefore to worship them is idolatrous. Not that they have anything against the gods – they’d certainly say hello if they met them in the street or something – but they wouldn’t worship them.

Though Len concedes he hasn't always been the best adherent. That restriction against pork - not to mention stealing...

There's a reason Len considers it worthwhile to swing by to greet the Trickster in his sacred spaces, even though he makes certain not to actually pray or anything. Friendly hello to an equal-born child of Mother Flame, albeit one that has the power to destroy Len in a heartbeat.

"No," Mick says, reluctant. "Just - that fire. Last week."

Len searches his memory for any religious fires, tinted with vervain for foresight, but come up empty. And then it hits him. "Wait," he says. "The gambling den arson? The one you ended up in a fit over?"

"Yeah," Mick says guiltily. "Still sorry about that."

"I'm telling you, it's fine," Len says, not for the first time. "I know you've got a case of the firebug fits; s'why I always make sure you got company when you go debt-collecting with torches and why I make sure you always got something to burn. But - you saw something?"

"I saw a city," Mick says. "In the rainforest. We need to be there, or else something bad'll happen."

"That ever happen before?"

"Twice," Mick says. He'd never mentioned that before. "Once before I came to Corus - it's why I came. I saw a new home here. S'why I walked all that way."

"And the second time? What'd you see then?"

"Faithful," Mick says, nodding at his rat, curled up happily in the little pen Len had built for him. "I knew just where to go to find him."

"Well," Len says after a long minute.

"They could be hallucinations," Mick adds hastily. "I know that that's a symptom of firebug fits sometimes, and I've got them before -"

"Only when you were very sick or depressed," Len points out. "Neither of which you are now. No, if you say you saw something, I guess you saw something. Guess we're going to the rainforest."

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

It’s official.

Barry of Allen is the only person in all of Tortall that does not like Thawne Eobard.

No matter how many times Eobard smiles – greasily, in Barry’s opinion – or how everyone swears up and down that he’s really nice, Barry does not like him.

This puzzles the living daylights out of all of his friends.

Being forced to ride in formation, stuck right next to Eobard’s horse, all the way down to the rainforest only made it worse.

Especially since Eobard spends the entire time talking with Iris about some sort of “hidden city” legend in the rainforest, talking about how exciting the concept is - how dangerous - how Good King Jonathan took on the Black City when he was far younger –

(Which he wasn’t, being very nearly a full knight and all, but everyone ignored it when Barry pointed it out. Also, is it just Barry, or is it weird to refer to Good King Jonathan in the singular? It’s always Good-King-Jonathan-and-Queen-Thayet. They ignore Barry about that, too.)

"Unfortunately," Eobard drawls in his nasal voice, far more jarring to Barry's ears than Len's more musical one. "It does seem that heroism of that sort is a thing of the past."

Barry sees Iris' eyes shining in excitement. "Maybe not," she says, sounding far too thoughtful.

"Maybe that's because individualistic heroism has been replaced with individuals committed to upholding institutional justice," Barry says, only slightly sourly.

"How's that?" Caitlin asks, blinking. She's been strangely dazed during much of the trip, as had Cisco; Barry guesses they're not used to traveling like this.

"Individual heroism as in the days of Good King Jonathan and Queen Thayet – and the Lioness, of course - was all well and good if your goal was making a name for yourself and yourself alone," Barry points out. "But permitting justice to be dispensed by individuals and effectively only permitting training for the higher end nobility and nomads, since no one else could afford to lose a child's help in the days prior to the institution of mandatory childhood education, essentially created a system in which entire communities were at the mercy of their local knight's biases and whims. Which is why Good King Jonathan and Queen Thayet worked so hard to develop the current system where any goodman’s child can enter their local training for knighthood, with their families subsidized for the loss of their labor if they’re not landowners. That’s why we call them the ‘Good’ King and Queen, after all."

Iris is nodding eagerly, since this is one of her pet peeves. "Not to mention the utter failure of that system to encourage investigation into issues of structural inequality," she says. "We had knights; now we have enforcers of the law which are themselves subject to the law they enforce."

Thawne Eobard looks annoyed, albeit subtly. "I suppose so," he says. "But there is still a lack of great deeds now, wouldn't you say?"

He aims that question at Iris, who falters.

"Not to mention," he adds smoothly, "you can't overlook the great deeds they did accomplish individually - Jonathan and the Banishment of the Black City, for instance, could not have happened with an army -"

"I personally think that Judge Samor in the 7th District counts as an individual hero," Barry chimes in, noticing with disgust how Iris, Caitlin and Cisco all turn to listen to Eobard adoringly whenever he speaks. He’s not that impressive. "She's been working for the rights of bastard children for fifty years. She fought her way up from nothing to become one of the most respected judges in all of Tortall, which is nearly as helpful in getting rid of the stigma that bastards are useless as her active efforts. And look at how she led the way in equalizing the inheritance laws!"

"I thought her recent ideas about funding unwed mothers were a bit much," Caitlin objects. "Doesn't that undercut the institution of marriage at all?"

"That depends on the benefit of the institution," Cisco points out. "If we really wanted to strengthen marriage above all else, we'd eliminate divorce and trap people in them, but we don't do that because it's not our highest value -"

"Feeding children is more important," Iris adds, nodding.

"I may just be contrary here, but it seems to me that it's not just -" Caitlin starts.

The debate kicks into high gear after that.

Barry's pretty sure he's the only one noticing Eobard's lips twisting in annoyance.

He still manages to bring up the stupid Black City legend three more times, despite Barry's best efforts to derail him.

There’s a lovely welcome feast by Julian Albert, the master of Castle Perilous, in which Albert talks at length about the local legends of gorillas in the rainforest, rumors of them having formed some sort of enclave, and the dangers of going in alone given their territoriality, but Barry goes to bed that evening still feeling unaccountably annoyed. He's not sure why he's so annoyed, he just knows that he is.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out.

"Okay," he mutters into his pillow. "Let's talk it out like Mom and Dad are always saying. Why does it bug me that he's talking about it all the time? So he likes legends; it's not a crime."

Still, doesn't Eobard realize how impulsive Iris can be? If he keeps goading her on like this, she'll do something -

Barry sits bolt upright in bed.

"Stupid," he hisses, and flashes into his clothing and down the stairs.

Even with the aid of the magic he'd sworn never to use, he barely makes it to the gate before Iris.

"Are you nuts?" he asks her.

Iris tosses the hood of her waterproof cloak back, scowling at him. "How'd you know I'd be here?" she asks.

"After Eobard practically dared you to go to into the rainforest looking for a hidden city by comparing you to Good King Jonathan and Queen Thayet? Seemed obvious," Barry says, then amends it to, "Mostly obvious. I just figured it out."

"He didn't dare me," Iris says, rolling her eyes. "But he's not wrong - there's a great deed here, just waiting to happen!"

"No one has ever found a hidden city in the rainforest, Iris. It’s not like the Black City, which was actually visible.”

“I know!” she says, beaming. “But I’ve figured it out.”

Barry pauses. “You’ve figured out…what?”

“It’s the gorillas! Everyone has been everywhere in the rainforest except where it’s marked out as gorilla territory, because they’re so violent against intruders. That must be where the hidden city is!”

Barry gapes at her. “So your idea is to go straight to the place with the violent territorial gorillas? Really?”

Iris crosses her arms. “You can come with me or not, Barry, but I’m going.”

Barry bits his lip. Iris seems dead-set on the idea, and he knows her well enough by now to know that nothing he says will change her mind. She’s going to go into that rainforest, with him or without him, and she won’t let him go back and get anyone from the Castle –

Huh. That’s an idea.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m coming. But can we make a detour?”

She scowls at him, suspecting a trick.

“No, no,” Barry says. “We’re definitely going into the rainforest. It’s just – we have to pass through the city proper before we get to the gates, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I promised I’d meet Len and Mick –” Tomorrow or the day after, technically, but they did tell him where they’d be staying. “– so we should swing by in case they get annoyed about me ditching them after they came all this way to hang out with us here.”

Iris frowns. “Fine,” she says. “But if you try to get them to stop me, I’ll never forgive you.”

Damnit.

They steal into the city proper and head down to the Monkey’s Paw, which is a disreputable-looking tavern in the poorer part of town, and which is surrounded by plenty of big, angry-looking people eying Barry and Iris’ expensive cloaks.

“Uh,” Barry says. “I’m here to see the Rogue?”

The thugs exchange glances, but finally one of them gets up and gestures for Barry and Iris to follow.

Len and Mick are seated in the middle of a positive sea of shining criminal faces, Len weaving one of his ridiculous-yet-true stories about heists he’s run with Mick interjecting additional details, some of which might even be true.

“Rogue,” the thug grunts. “Guests.”

Len looks up. “Barry,” he says warmly. “And you brought your friend, too. Do you have news for me?”

Barry blinks, not sure what Len means, but Iris steps up right away, saying, “News from the Castle, Rogue, and the special information you wanted.”

“You’re planning to job old Perilous?” one of the local thieves asks, sounding impressed.

Len shrugs. “I ain’t committing to nothing till I got all the intel I need,” he says archly. “Sorry, boys; gonna have to continue this story later. Need to talk to my, ah, friends from the Castle.”

There are murmurs of agreement and approval, and the crowd splits to let Len and Mick walk through to Barry and Iris, catching them easily by the arm and leading them to another room.

“Mick?” Len says.

Mick holds up a secret-sphere, activating it with a click. “It’ll muffle the sound, but not for long,” he warns.

“Being a Rogue spy in the Castle is a dream come true,” Iris says.

Barry sighs. “Was that necessary?” He does think it’s pretty cool, though, so he’s maybe not managing "put upon" as well as he could.

“This ain't Corus,” Len replies dryly. “Been a while since these people have seen - or had to respect- the Rogue. Enough of that, though. What’s up? You’re early.”

“Iris wants to go hunting for the hidden city in the rainforest,” Barry says. “Tonight. Alone.”

Len and Mick exchange a look. “City in the forest, huh?” Len says. “Okay, we’re in.”

“What?!” Barry yelps.

“Yes!” Iris cheers.

“Do you know where it is?” Len asks.

“I have my suspicions,” Iris says, and grins. “And a map.”

“You have a map?” Barry asks. She didn’t mention a map.

“Yep,” she says. “Got it from Julian Albert myself. He’s really into the whole gorilla thing.”

“So we’re really going,” Barry says.

“We’re really going,” Iris says.

“At least we’ve made a decision,” Len says dryly.

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

"It's official," Barry mutters. "I hate the jungle."

"Rainforest, Barry," Len replies, though he seems equally displeased by trudging through miles and miles of identical forest in the dark, their way lit only by the mage-light of their lanterns.

"What's the difference?"

"Rainforest has a thick canopy of trees, blocks the light," Mick grunts. "Jungle's thick on ground vegetation."

"I didn't know that," Iris observes. "Where'd you pick it up?"

"Mick knows everything," Len drawls, but he sounds pleased. Barry knows Len well enough to know that it's from Iris not having expressed surprise at Mick having brains as well as brawn. "He's - what's that word again? Starts with an o, means know-it-all?"

Iris blinks, baffled, and exchanges glances with Barry.

O word, o word, know-it-all, all-knowing...

"Wait," Barry says. "Omniscient?"

"That's the one," Len says cheerfully. "He's a bit slow to get to it sometimes, but ask him a question and he knows the answer."

"You have great faith in your friend," Iris says. The smile is evident in her voice. "To which I owe the life of my own friend, so I suppose I must believe you."

Len chuckles. "And how has Eddie been treating you?"

"He hasn't been 'treating' me anyhow; we're just friends -"

"Friends don't make out in Sweetheart Lane," Len shoots back with a smirk.

"Iris!" Barry exclaims, delighted.

"Gimme a break!" Iris shoots back, grinning shamelessly. “He's adorable!”

"Yes, adorable - and new to the city, too, which means you took him to Sweetheart Lane," Barry says, smirking. “For shame, Iris. Corrupting nice young men like that.”

"I remind you, Barry, that I am also your princess."

"Not in the rainforest you're not," Mick says. “Nobody to enforce your rules.”

"I'll tease you later," Barry tells Iris, earning a laugh. "All the time. Endlessly. You'll beg me to stop."

"I'll live," she replies. "Now, Len, tell us what you mean by Mick being omniscient. You mean he's terribly clever and people don't realize it, right?"

Mick snorts and Len laughs. "If I meant that," he says, "I would say it."

"Then what do you mean? You can't mean that he actually knows everything."

"Well, no. But he can answer any question he puts his mind to," Len explains, no trace of doubt in his voice. "It just takes time, that's all. I asked him a question once and he answered me near on two years later; he's lucky I even remembered what he was talking about."

"So he can answer anything, but slow? What if I asked about the meaning of life?" Iris teases.

"I could tell you," Mick says, and he sounds amused. "But sadly by the time I got the answer, you'd already be dead - and have your answer."

Iris laughs. "Well, that’s convenient. Wouldn't you say, Barry?"

"A little," Barry says, smiling. "Hardly the strangest thing I've ever heard of. Is it always slow?"

"Nah, sometimes it's quick as a wink," Len says. "Not often, though; I prefer the slow approach, myself."

"Of course you do." Barry rolls his eyes.

"Try him!"

"And if he doesn't answer, wait a few years?"

"Well, don't ask him anything too complex, then."

"But that's all the fun," Iris says, shaking her head.

"Oh, I've got one," Barry says. "Mick."

Mick raises his eyebrows.

"Where should I go to find what I'm looking for?"

Barry's quite pleased with his question; it's abstract enough for a good answer, but it sounds to him, at least, like an excellent request for directions to the hidden city, which they could then trace on the map that Iris has been consulting regularly but hasn't shown around. They can use that as a test.

Mick blinks. "Oh, that," he says dismissively. "That's easy."

"It is?" Barry replies, blinking a little.

"It's in the base of that big tree down that hill," Mick says. “It'll put you on the right path to what you’re looking for."

Len squints down the hill, enhancing his mage-light. "I don't think I see a tree, Mick," he says. "The hill cuts off in a cliff-face or something like -" He abruptly goes silent.

"Len?" Barry asks.

"That’s a tree," Len says.

Barry steps forward and looks. "Oh, wow," he says. The tree is gigantic, old and gnarled, with its branches twining up into the canopy, but its base is frankly massive. You could fit a house inside that trunk.

Barry steps forward again, eager to get a better look, and that's when the ground gives way beneath him and suddenly he's sliding down the hill.

"Barry!" he hears his friend shout as he bumps and rolls his way down the hill, instinctively throwing his arms up to protect his face and focusing on letting his body be limp and soft, falling the way you're supposed to fall.

Thank the Goddess for knight lessons, he supposes.

It's probably due to that that he makes it to the bottom of the hill without anything more than a few bruises and scrapes.

The bottom of the hill –

The tree is just as massive as Barry thought, but it's only up close that he sees the intricate carvings on it.

"Oh, wow," he breathes again, ignoring the sound of his friends edging down the hill in his direction.

He'd thought you could fit a house in here, and it looks like someone had had the same thought, decorating the place all over.

And more importantly, these aren't just carvings.

"It's a door!" Barry calls, and presses his palm against what looked like the door handle. "Guys, it's a -"

The wall creaks open, pulling back with an ancient groan and taking Barry, who'd been unwisely leaning forward, toppling inside.

The floor is some distance further down than he would've thought it'd be. It's definitely lower than the ground outside, at any rate.

"Barry!" he hears Len shouting.

"Ouch," Barry says, sitting. He turns on his mage-light – which had turned off in his tumble, since he was no longer holding the activation rune against his skin - and sees...

Treasure.

Not treasure as one would regularly think it, but gorgeous carvings of all sorts, pictures, sculptures. Violent figures everywhere, holding up their swords and shields and spears as if in defense.

Barry would have thought it a place of worship, but there's no altar, no religious imagery, no signs of dedication to any god. Just warriors, ready to fight.

Also, Barry is sitting on something that's poking him in the ass.

He fishes it out from under him, only to blink stupidly at it.

It’s a sword. He can’t quite make out the details of it – mage-light is dim, better for seeing distances than details - but it is definitely a sword. And a scabbard and sword belt, for that matter, which is good because if Barry fell straight on a sword he'd be a lot less curious and a lot more bloody.

Why is there a sword lying in the middle of this place?

"Hey, Barry," he hears Len drawl. "You feel you need more time in there, or you ready to come out?"

Barry looks up sheepishly. "I found a sword," he calls.

"A sword," Len says flatly. "How nice. I'm sure when I recover from the heart attack you gave me, I might even care."

"Oh, hush," Iris says, though Barry can tell from her voice that she's also relieved. "You know, Alanna the Lioness found her first sword on a quest like this."

"She found it amongst ruins," Len shoots back, unimpressed. “In Olau. Hardly the middle of a rainforest.”

"These look like ruins! Or, well, they're ancient-looking, anyway..."

Mick appears behind the bickering duo with a length of vine, likely from a nearby tree. He tosses it down to Barry, who shoves the sword under his arm and climbs out.

"Thanks, Mick," he says when he gets up to the ground again, "for as usual being the only practical one of the whole lot of us."

Mick grunts in amusement as both Len and Iris immediately protest that they were going to get rope, really, in just a moment.

"So you found a sword," Iris finally says when she realizes it's hopeless. "Like Lady Alanna's Lightning! Oh, this is even more like the Quest of the Black City than I'd hoped!"

"I can't believe we're on a quest," Len grumbles, but his eyes are shining. He might not admit it, but the Rogue of Corus is as much of a storytelling fiend as Iris is; no wonder he agreed to this trip so easily.

Barry shrugs and buckles the sword on. It feels right. "Well, I am going to be a knight," he points out. "So a sword obtained on a quest is definitely a step in the right direction. Thanks for the directions, Mick."

"I still don't believe it," Iris announces. "Pure coincidence, I say."

"You don't have to believe it," Len retorts.

"Which way, Iris?" Barry interrupts before they start arguing again.

Iris checks her map. "Oh, this way. Follow me. So, Barry, what are you naming it?"

“The sword?”

"You should name it ‘Pours’," Len says immediately.

"What?"

"You know - when it rains-forest, it pours."

"That was awful,” Iris declares.

Mick nods, but he's quietly snickering. Barry is only snickering quietly because he has his hand over his mouth. "What?" he says when Iris gives him a long-suffering look. "It's funny!"

"Don't encourage him. Draw the sword, Barry; let’s see what it looks like.”

Barry does so. It’s lightweight and easy to hold, with a different metal of some sort running up the middle. “I like it,” he says.

“I think you should call it Lightning,” Iris declares.

"Like Lady Alanna?"

"Exactly!"

"I don't know. Seems like a name with a lot of weight..."

"Call it whatever you like," Len says. "It's only a pointy stick in the end."

That, of course, sets Iris off on a rant on the importance of swords and sword-bonding in the history of heroes, Len needling her every time she shows signs of flagging.

Mick nudges Barry a little. Barry looks at him. "Name it whatever you like," Mick says. "Don't worry about the weight of history; it's not as heavy as you might think."

This, Barry thinks to himself, unable to keep from smiling, from a man who named his pet rat Faithful.

Well, he supposes Mick knows best, then.

"Lightning it is," Barry decides, sheathing it once more. He feels a bit better with a proper sword, since he had only been able to bring knives out with him on this trip - as trainee knights, they travelled armed, but put the swords away when visiting at a castle.

Mick nods in approval. Barry feels warm inside.

"So, another question," Barry says to Mick, grinning to show he was joking. "You think we'll find the hidden city?"

"Sooner than we'd like," Mick says, but he's not looking at Barry.

Barry turns his head to look, and -

"Is that a giant statue of a gorilla?" he asks, amazed.

"It is!" Iris exclaims. "But what can it mean?"

"It means," a deep voice - inhumanly deep - says from behind them, "that you are trespassing."

They all spin around.

From the darkness outside the circle of their magelight, an enormous figure, larger and broader than any man, steps forward.

It's a gorilla.

No, not just a gorilla. It's a gorilla, standing like a man, its yellow eyes bright with intelligence, and it’s wearing armor. Filigreed silver armor, of a make and style Barry has never seen before.

It bares its fangs.

"Welcome," it says, "to Gorilla City."