#like when the scientist lady was looking for him & had him undress and he was just lying there

[orcelito]

lmfao

tfw this person u barely know but is friends(?) with the person u killed a prince with so theyre coming with u on the run. they go out to get clothes with said friend. accidentally nearly kill a guy & then get the town guards looking for them. & they come back to ur place so u pull them into ur room to hide out as the guards talk to ur adopted mom at the front door. and after they leave ur gonna go to look out the front window of ur room and ur like "You should hide under the bed to make sure they can't see you in here." & theyre like "Are you Serious?" & u (aka Fang) is just like. a lil snarkily, "Or you could hide in the bed. We could say you're a customer." & theyre like "Oh, don't tempt me with a good time." & then u just kinda Smirk & push them towards the bed b4 going to peek out the window as they ultimately hide under the bed and just

what . a fuckin moment . fang is not rly one to flirt outside of the job so this kinda took me by surprise lmfao. but i think a lil friendly flirt banter with a new friend is a GREAT vibe we r starting

[bxwitched]

Diamonds Are Forever - Part One

Warnings: Non-Con, kidnapping, captivity, swearing, torture, angst, breeding, implied rape. Explicit 18+ only, please read at your own risk.

Characters: Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: You're rescued from being one of Vought's experiments, but are you really safe?

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: You can find my Masterlist here. Comments, shares and likes are appreciated!

At first you think you're delirious. Your ears prick at the distant sound of yelling, rapid gunfire interspersed with loud bangs and screams. Your head tilts to the side, your eyes locked on the door as you pick up on the multiple sets of footsteps making their way down the hallways, towards your cell. Not a hallucination then.

That's when you hear their voices.

"Are you sure this is a good idea Butcher?"

"Positive, Hughie. Now let's have a fucking look at what's behind door number three, shall we?"

One, two, three, and the steel door flies inwards, narrowly missing you as it screeches to a halt in the corner of the room. Your eyes narrow as the dust settles and the three men come into view, a dark haired man grins at you wickedly whilst a tall, skinny man throws you a nervous wave over the shoulder of the first. Your whole body tenses as your eyes find the third, he's assessing you with a smirk on his face, his eyes roving up and down your form as he takes you in. He's tall and rugged and like you, a fucking supe; complete with a costume and shield.

"Well aren't you just a doll."

"Who are you and what the fuck do you want?" The supe tsks at you loudly and shakes his head in disapproval.

"A lady as pretty as you shouldn't be using that kind of language." Your eyes flash with anger and you clench your fists tightly.

"You didn't answer me. Is this one of their tests? Did he put you up to this!?" The dark haired man intervenes then, he steps forward slowly, his hands raised in surrender as if he's trying to calm a feral animal.

"Easy, love. We're not here to hurt ya. On the contrary, we've come to get you out of here." You level him with a glare.

"And why would you do that? I don't know you." His face splits into a wide grin.

"Homelander. We're gonna kill the cunt, and you're gonna help us."

You find yourself ushered into a plush bedroom by an older man named Legend, an old friend of the supe you now knew as Soldier Boy.

The three men had introduced themselves to you not long after leaving the lab and explained that you would be laying low at Legend's home with them until it was time to execute Homelander, much to the eccentric man's chagrin.

You try to shake off the feeling of unease as you find the adjoining bathroom and begin to take off the clothes the scientists had made you wear, desperate to feel clean after so long in that place. You try to will your muscles to relax as you stand under the warm stream and let the rivulets of water carry down your hair, neck, shoulders and back but the tendrils of anxiety still linger in your chest.

Would he find you? And would they be able to protect you if he did?

You sigh as you secure the towel around your body and analyse your reflection in the mirror, despite all of the things they had done to you, all of the pain that you had endured, there were no marks left to show their handiwork. He had liked that, he had called you flawless.

You startle when you walk back into the bedroom, so caught up in the maelstrom of your thoughts that you hadn't heard Hughie come in. He bounces on his heels nervously and gestures to the bags laid out on the bed, purposefully avoiding looking at your state of undress.

"Sorry, I-uh, I should've waited outside, but I brought you some clothes and some food." You stare at him blankly as he stutters, unsure of how to respond to his seemingly genuine act of kindness. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and starts to back towards the bedroom door.

"I'll just-uh go now, let me know if you need anything else."

"Hughie-" He stops and turns towards you, his hand resting on the doorknob. "Thank you."

You lay on your back, eyes focused on the ceiling as insomnia wreaks havoc on your mind. You think back to the other girls, the needles and the screams, the liquid that coursed through your veins, the pain that burned through your body like fire.

A wave of nausea rolls through you as you hear his voice in your head, his praising, taunting, telling you that it was just a matter of time.

The house is silent as you descend the stairs, everyone is asleep and you pad quietly into the kitchen in search of something to calm your frayed nerves. Your eyes light up when you spy a small orange bottle on the counter but you grumble when you pick it up and find it empty.

"Can't sleep?" You turn quickly and throw the bottle of pills at the intruder, freezing when it bounces off of his chest and rolls across the floor.

Soldier Boy leans against the door frame, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as you stare at him. He matches your stare until the silence becomes unbearable.

"No." You stand straighter as he pushes away from the wall, those green eyes of his examining you as he stalks around you. He opens one of the cupboards and retrieves an unopened bottle filled with amber liquid, whisky you think. He smirks and shakes it at you teasingly.

"Won't you have a drink with me, Honey?" You watch him wearily, you don't trust him and you don't want to let your guard down but it's been so long since you've been able to just sleep.

"If you try anything, know that I won't hesitate to tear off your cock." He chuckles then, it's deep and rich and your stomach tightens at the sound of it.

"I don't doubt you'd try."

You settle down on one end of the long couch, not taking your eyes off of him and accept the short glass he holds in your direction, careful not to touch him more than needed as you take it from him. He settles into the chair opposite you and sets the bottle down on the coffee table. He hums as he takes a long sip from his own glass, his legs are spread wide and his free hand rests against his thigh.

"You're strong." He grins at you now and his chest puffs slightly from the compliment.

"Yes I am."

"Strong enough to kill Homelander?" His smile falters then, he leans forward to set his glass down on the table and clasps his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. The way that he's eyeing you makes you uncomfortable and you shift in your seat, he nods once as he considers what he's going to say.

"Why were you in that lab?" You frown at him.

"You didn't read the files?" He shakes his head and you nod as your fingers grip your knee, your short nails dig into the fabric of your jeans, the discomfort grounds you. You're silent for a long time as you run through the events that you remember and try to piece them together, the memories are hazy but not enough for you to forget.

"I was just on my way home from work, I remember waking up in that white room, in those clothes. There were others too, I could hear them, they wanted us to hear each other."

His brows are furrowed as he watches you, you knock back the remainder of your glass and set it down, your features steeled to hide the emotions bubbling just below the surface.

"Homelander wants children and in order to have those he needs a living incubator, but seeing as most supe women are sterile they had to get creative. They tried something new, they pumped us full of chemicals until we changed, it burned like hell and the more they did it the stronger I got, I had more stamina, my senses got better."

You lean forward and grab the whiskey bottle and bring it to your lips, you take a long pull before offering it back to Soldier Boy. He takes it from you with a silent nod.

"Then one day I woke up strapped to a table, they wanted to see how much my body could take, so they poked and prodded and sliced, I didn't bleed, I didn't bruise, but I still felt everything." You breathe deeply, trying to ignore the heaviness in your chest.

"He came to my cell the next day, told me that I was going to be the one honoured with carrying his children, that the others weren't as strong as me, as beautiful as me. I tried to slit his throat with the scalpel I stole from the lab but it didn't even make a fucking dent."

"He didn't try to kill you?" You let out a mirthless laugh.

"Of course he did, he tried to laser me in half but it didn't work, it didn't even mark my skin. That's when he started calling me his diamond and ranting about how our children would rule the world."

You scrunch your nose in disgust as you remember the moment before looking back at the man across from you. Soldier Boy's jaw is clenched tight and his expression is stormy, his eyes have darkened and his fingers are no longer entwined but pulled into fists. You consider him as he exhales deeply.

"Did he?-" You ignore him and shake your head as you rise from the couch and walk towards him, his eyes widen as you snatch the bottle of whisky from his hand and make your way past him to the stairs.

"That's enough sharing for one night."

Part Two >

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

🚨Warnings: Light p in v smut. Some angst. Lots of fluff. My grandfather’s name really is in the Smithsonian.🚨

Plain Gold Ring V:

Exactly Like You

“I know why I waited

Know why I've been blue

I've been waiting each day

For someone exactly like you” - Nina Simone

——————————————————————

Your last day in D.C. felt like the last day of your life. This life. Every article of clothing was packed. Every knickknack and tchotchke sent with the movers. You were ready for your next life. Did your next life include Andy?

The weather was beautiful. Sunny. Not too hot. You and Andy had planned on spending it outside seeing the sites. He had never toured any of the museums. You invited Jacob along. The second you said it you wished you hadn’t. You felt like a home wrecker even though Andy promised Jacob wouldn’t see you that way.

Andy was bristling with excitement. “He’s going to love you, baby.” You were not great with kids. You actively chose not to have them. You loved your nieces from a distance when they were little. Now that they are teenagers you feel a little more at ease with them. You are their cool rich aunt who spends an absolutely outrageous amount of money on them when you visit. You nearly fainted when Andy asked if you’d like to have children.

“Aren’t I too old for that?”

“You’re only three years younger than me. I know a lot of women who had their career before they had a family.” Your face snapped from terrified to anger real quick, “Not that you can’t have a career and be a mother. People do it everyday. Shut up, Andy.”

“You’re cute when you’re nervous. Have you thought of having children with me?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, yeah. I’d like to have a couple more.”

“Oh. A couple he says.” You could feel the hives forming. “This seems like a good conversation to have right before I leave.”

He ran his hands up and down your arms. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you. You haven’t thought about it? Not even a little?” The door buzzed in the nick of time.

“Jacob’s here! Hallelujah!” You wiggled out of his arms to grab your shoes.

He laughed shaking his head. “We’ll finish this conversation later, young lady.” he pressed the intercom button, “Hey come on up, buddy. This is going to be great, honey.” He loved your nervous laugh and the way you fidgeted with your fingers. Just the fact that you were nervous told him you would love his son.

You heard voices coming from the living area. Fucking hell. Was that Lori? You contemplated going out of the window. You went into the bathroom to grab some lip balm. You knew full well that it was in your bag on the kitchen island. You were just staying out of their way. When you heard the front door close you reemerged.

“Ready to go?” Your eyes were wide and you were way too smiley. If Andy didn’t know better he would think you were on drugs.

“Yeah. I think no more coffee for you ok?”

“It’s nice to see you again, Miss Y/N.” Jacob extended his hand.

“Nice to see you too. So! The Smithsonian. What part are you most interested in seeing?”

“Air and space I think.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start. My grandfather’s name is actually on a plaque. I’ll show you. He was in the navy and built planes that were used in Korea I think. And my dad’s picture is there. He works for a division of NASA back in Louisiana where I’m from. He developed this little part of the rocket booster. He’s literally a rocket scientist.”

“That’s really cool. I’d love to meet him sometime…..”

Andy was loving every second of this. You and Jacob really got along. You were making plans to visit your father and stepmother over the summer and maybe hit the beach in Florida. Jacob’s face lit up at the prospect of meeting your family. Both Andy and Lori were only children. Jacob didn’t grow up with cousins or really any kids his own age outside of school. He seemed pretty comfortable with the idea of you and Andy together.

Andy tested the waters a little by holding your hand. Jacob didn’t seem to notice. By the time you got to the next part of the museum he had his arms around your waist. He even kissed you a couple of times. Nothing but a tender peck here and there. Jacob didn’t seem to mind when he showed you affection.

After lunch Andy dropped you off and then ran Jacob back home.

“So, what are you thinking?” Andy asked with nervous trepidation.

“The museum was cool. I really liked the rockets. It’s cool that Y/N’s dad made those.”

“Did you like Y/N?”

“Yeah. Sucks she’s moving. Do you think you’ll move to Chicago too?”

“Kind of depends on you, bud. I know you’re getting older and you don’t need Dad around very much anymore. I don’t want to miss anything. You’re my only baby.”

“I could spend summers with you. You look really happy. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. Even before the trial. I’d miss you but you should be happy.”

The whole way inside Jacob talked about you. He clammed up when Lori walked in.

“Hey, guys. Did you have a good time?” She kissed Jacob on the forehead.

“We had a great time. Ok, Jake. You have the number where I’ll be. I’ll be back on Wednesday. If you’re not busy next weekend you can spend the night. I have your room all set up. Love you.”

“Ok. Love you. Have a safe flight. Tell Y/N I said bye.” He escaped to his room before the arguing started.

“If it’s ok I’ll pick him up from school Thursday. Did you sign the papers?”

“She went with you?” Her voice was deadly quiet.

“She did.”

“Didn’t want to tell me that before hand I guess.”

He sighed and wiped his face with his hands, “I’ll have him back Sunday night. See you later.”

“Fuck you, Andy. You can’t even give me the courtesy of telling me my son would be meeting his father’s whore!”

He slammed his fist on the counter, “Did you sign the papers or not?” She threw the manilla envelope at him.

“They’re signed.” He took the papers and walked out slamming the door. He contemplated moving again. He has a month to month lease on his place. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find a job. He knew Jacob would be fine. Chicago was looking better and better. After all the baby talk this morning he wouldn’t burden you with anything else domestic for today.

——————————————————————

You were zipping your last suitcase when you heard Andy come in. You packed all of your sleep clothes so you were wearing Andy’s t-shirt and panties. Dinner was ordered and he had a drink waiting on the counter. He called out for you. When you rounded the corner into the living room he caught you in his arms.

“Hey, handsome.” you cooed in his ear. He nuzzled your neck and stroked your back. “You ok? Was Jacob….he hates me. I knew it.”

He tightened his hold on you, “Honey, he loved you. He talked about you the whole way back.”

“Then why is your face all worried?”

“Because I’m keenly aware that this is our last night together in my place. That when I come home Wednesday you won’t be here. I’ll go to work on Thursday and Jeremy will be in your office. I have really good memories in that office and now they’re ruined. I don’t want to wake up without you.”

His hands traveled up your bare back then back down to cup your ass. “The delivery app says they’re going to be here in twenty minutes. Think you can finish in time?”

He lowered his head between your breasts and nodded yes. Before you knew it your panties were off, his pants were down and he was fucking you against the wall. His pace was relentless. You hooked your ankles at the small of his back and leaned back so you could rub your clit. Your fingertips brushed against his dick every time he pumped in and out of your cunt. You both came in fifteen minutes.

You ate dinner on the veranda loving the cool breeze on your bare skin. As much as he wanted his t-shirt to smell like you, he like naked picnics way more. Admittedly, a big chicken Caesar salad wasn’t the sexiest food in the world. Still didn’t stop him from licking dressing off of your chest when it dropped off your fork. He was determined to fuck you in almost every room in this place.

You slept tangled and sticking together all night. You had finally gotten over your need for bed space. You’d miss it when he wasn’t there. All night the two of you wanted to bring up moving in together. Neither of you had the guts to say it. You didn’t want to beat a dead horse. He didn’t want to freak you out. Good thing you’d be long distance for a while to work on your communication skills.

——————————————————————

Your new place was beautiful. You rented a big new condo close to Millennial Park. Your office was on Michigan Ave so you weren’t far from there thought walking was highly discouraged. It wouldn’t be possible in heels anyway.

You and Andy worked diligently unpacking and cleaning. When the last box was unpacked and broken down you both collapsed on the couch. “I feel disgusting.”

“You have that nice big bathtub. Bet we can both fit.” He raised an eyebrow at you and nudged your side.

“You are insatiable, Mr. Barber. Whatever will I do without you?”

“You’ll bust from horniness. Come on.” He hoisted you up from your comfy spot and pulled you into the bathroom. While he undressed you filled the water with soft musky oils and some bubble bath. You lit candles and eased in to relax. He washed your hair massaging your scalp with his fingertips. He held you in the warmth until your fingers and toes were pruned.

For the rest of the week, if you were sitting it was on Andy’s lap. If you were sleeping it was in his arms. By Tuesday morning, you had both finished up conference calls and responding to emails. You had cleared the rest of your day to spend together.

As the sunlight dwindled it had become harder and harder to part. You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to have the conversation you had been dreading since you stepped off the plane.

“Andy, I don’t want to sound like a nagging girlfriend but, I really want you to move in with me. I know it would be so hard leaving Jacob but I have plenty of room. He can spend every summer here if he wants. I’d love to have him. I feel really strongly that this is leading somewhere. I’ll even talk about babies if you want.”

His heart was bursting. You kept rambling on trying to convince him. Little did you know he was already convinced. “Stan is going to kill you.” He laughed and pulled you onto his lap. “Give me a few weeks to wrap up everything.”

When you dropped him at the airport there were tears but you knew you’d see him soon. “I love you, baby. I’ll call you as soon as I land.” He kissed you like he would never get to do it again.

“I love you too. See you soon.” He smiled through his tears.

“See you soon.”

——————————————————————

That weekend he spent all of his time with Jacob. He planned on spending every moment he could with his son. Jacob even had his first few weeks planned starting with meeting your family in Louisiana.

When he brought Jacob home on Sunday he worked up the courage to tell Lori the news. “Do you have all of your stuff for your English assignment? If not I can bring it by before school tomorrow.”

“I got it, dad. I had fun this weekend.” They hugged. He smelled Jacob’s hair and kissed him.

“Love you. Be good for mom.”

“Love you too!”

Lori stood in the doorway with her arms folded protectively over her chest. “So she’s gone?”

“Yep.”

“So what now? What does this mean for you?”

He pulled out the kitchen chair and rested his head in this hands. “This wasn’t a fling, Lori. I’m moving to Chicago. Jacob is real excited about spending summers with us.”

“Do you love her?” Tears shimmered in her eyes and her voice wavered. It would be cruel to lie to her.

“Very much.” It stung to hear. With nothing left to say Andy stood to leave.

“Andy!” she called after him. When he turned she wrapped him in a hug. The two of them embraced for several minutes.

When he stepped onto the sidewalk outside of the building his phone buzzed in his pocket. He saw your face smiling back at him.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” He looked up at your old window and thought of how the two of you started, the past he left behind and smiled at the sound of his future on the other end of the line.

[little-butterfly-writes]

Hi love, i have an idea for our beloved scientist lucien from mlqc. If its okay i would like to request a oneshot about reader being so jealous that she even cry and lucien reassure her , smut lucien x mc ✨

A Jealous You

Hey darling, this was such a delicious request. I got a bit carried away because I can relate to the jealousy and insecurities.

Wordcount - 1844

Warnings - NSFW!!!, Jealousy, Insecurities, Refusal of a few meals, Unprotected vaginal sex, internal cumshot, oral sex (female receiving)

A/N - I named the other woman Hana, sorry to anyone with that name! You are MC.

I watch from behind the pillar in Lucien's lab. A woman is talking to him in his office. It looks like she works here, she's wearing a white lab coat similar to Lucien's.

I wait until she leaves before going into his office. Lucien greets me with a smile before wrapping his arms around my waist. "Hello, my little butterfly." He kisses my forehead. "Did you have fun spying on me?" He asks.

My eyes go wide at the question. Lucien chuckles softly, holding me close. "I didn't know that you saw me." I mumble, resting my head on his chest. "You can't hide from me, baby." He coos gently. "Who was that, Lulu?" I ask, looking up at him. "She's an intern that just graduated. She'll be here for a month." He answers. I sigh softly, placing my palm on his chest as he gently sways me. "Don't worry, my eyes are only on you." Lucien says.

We stay like that for a few minutes before packing up to go home. We spent the night cuddling together in our apartment.

The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. I checked my phone to see that Lucien had to go to the lab because the intern made a small accident. I groan and get up, stumbling into the bathroom.

I look at my reflection. 'That woman has prettier hair than I do. Her body is so nice too, she's stunning,' I think to myself. My nitpicking goes on in my mind until I hear the front door open.

I go outside to the living room, wearing my comfy clothes. I can't help but think that the intern doesn't look like this, she's probably wearing nice clothes and looking pretty.

In a sour mood, I start up some tea in hopes it'll cheer me up a bit. Lucien places a bag on the kitchen island. "I brought breakfast for you." He wraps his arms around my waist. I sigh, melting into his arms. Lucien kisses my cheek.

He pauses for a moment, looking at me deeply. "Have you been crying?" He asks, voice full of concern. I shake my head 'no'. "Don't lie to me, MC, your eyes are red."

I sigh, looking back at him. "Yes, I was. I just saw a sad video about a puppy and got a bit sad." I lied. Lucien nods, kissing my cheek again before placing the pastry on a plate. I stare at the food, thinking about how that lady must not eat pastries whenever she wants. I shake my head, returning to my tea.

Another day passes, my mind filled with doubt and insecurities. I haven't eaten as much as I usually do. Lucien seems worried, but I keep telling him I'm fine. He doesn't press, but he definitely knows something's wrong.

I walk into Lucien's office, seeing the intern. Lucien walks up to me, placing a hand on the small of my back. "Hana, this is MC. MC, this is the intern I told you about." Lucien's introduction finally gives me a name.

Hana. What a beautiful name...a lot better than mine.

I force a smile. "Oh, Professor was talking about me?" Hana says, voice sweet like honey. My jaw clenches, of course it's melodious. My nose stings, prickling up to my eyes. I force myself to extend my hand, almost robotically. "Nice to meet you." I say, attempting to keep a steady voice.

We finish exchanging pleasantries, Hana leaves with a cheerful goodbye to Lucien. The second she's out, I let a quiet breath of air out. Lucien turns to me, hand still on my back. "My love, when will you tell me what's wrong?" He asks, rubbing my brow with his thumb. "I'm fine, Lucien. I promise. If anything comes up, I'll tell you." He sighs, pressing his forehead to mine. "If you say so." Lucien pecks my lips.

While walking out, the dean of the university nearby stops us. "Hey, Professor Lucien! Here's an invitation to the charity gala the school's hosting. You and your girlfriend should join us!" He slightly pleads. Lucien chuckles, holding me by my waist. "It's Saturday evening, correct? We'll be there." Lucien confirms. I nod along to his statement. 

Saturday night rolls around. Lucien bought me a new dress to wear to the gala. Donning the dress, I apply some light makeup as Lucien gets ready.

As soon as we arrive, my eyes are drawn to Hana. She's wearing a beautiful dress that hugs her body, strapless and showing off cleavage. The light lavender color matches Lucien's eyes, her makeup complimenting it. Black hair curled perfectly lands on milky skin.

I sigh, feeling simple. Unworthy to be by Lucien's side. Hana's perfect compared to me. I squeeze Lucien's hand tighter. "We'll say hello to the dean, maybe get a dessert and then we can go. Is that okay?" He says while wrapping an arm around my waist once more.

I nod, swallowing hard and moving to go see the dean. As we wait to talk to him, Hana comes up to us. Lucien's hand is now interlaced with mine. "Lucien, I'm going to get a drink. Be right back." I say, letting go of his hand. I move to grab some water, staying close with my back turned so I can listen in on them.

Everything I hear from them is mumbled. There's so many people talking near me. I focus, catching Hana's words. "Lulu, I know you have a girlfriend, but I really think we should be together. I mean, we're both scientists and work with each other...I think I'm better for you." 

My heart sinks. She's right, she is better for him. I choke back a sob, blinking tears back furiously. Lucien's voice comes up clear, "With your position, you should call me Professor Lucien. And my relationship with MC is perfect, I love her for who she is and she loves me the same way. Do not try and convince me that you are better than her." His voice is still sweet, but a lot firmer. 

I hear her sigh, clopping off in high heels. I hand the glass back to the waiter, moving towards the exit.

Lucien follows me, quick by my side. "MC, wait." He pulls me into his arms. I hide my face in his chest. "Lucien, I don't want to stay. I'm going to go home." I cry. He cradles me gently, leading me outside. "I know, baby. I'll take us home." He hushes.

The car ride home is silent. Lucien holds onto my hand as he drives while I look out the window, tears streaming quietly. 

Lucien holds me close as we walk up to my apartment. I let out a few sobs, trying to stay quiet. 

We walk in, Lucien locking the front door. "Let's go wipe your makeup off." He whispers. I nod, going into the bathroom and washing my face. When I walk out Lucien is in the bedroom. Waiting for me.

I walk closer, stopping to look at myself in the full-length mirror. Lucien comes up behind me, wrapping both arms around me. "Is this what's been upsetting you?" He asks, rubbing circles on my stomach. I let out a small yes. Lucien sighs into my hair, kissing there softly.

"I know you are jealous of her. I want you to know that you're all I want." He kisses my temple. I breathe in deep, relaxing back in his arms. "You're the only one for me, there's no one else I want to love." The whisper in my ear makes me tear up again. "But there's so many better people than me." I choke out.

"To me, you're the most gorgeous woman I know. Your heart is always accepting of anyone in need. Your intelligence is brilliant to matter what. I'm proud to call you mine." Lucien turns me around, kissing the corner of my eye. He unzips my dress, slowly. It's like he's unwrapping a fragile gift. I wrap my arms around his neck after he removes my bra. "Thank you, Lucien. I love you." I sigh. Lucien hums, grabbing my rear and squeezing lightly. 

Lucien lays me gently on the center of the bed. "I love you too, my love. My one and only." He kisses down my sternum, moving to my stomach. "My soulmate. Mine. So gorgeous, inside and out." Lucien removes my panties softly, happily staring at my core. I try to shift my legs closer, but Lucien holds my thighs apart with a tut. 

"No baby, let me love you." The words a honeyed murmur against my legs. He kisses up my thigh, ending them on my clit. Lucien goes for another, licking a long stripe against my slit. I moan when his tongue trails my labia before shoving his tongue into my sex. The wet muscle thrusts slowly, his thumb pressed on my sensitive nub. Loud cries escape my throat as he licks me up faster. I feel like withering away from the tortuous pleasure. Just as I'm about to reach my climax, Lucien pulls away. He wipes away the arousal covering his chin. I whine, wanting my orgasm he tempted me to. 

"My love even tastes sweet. What else could I need in a partner when I have you?" Dark lust swims in his eyes. I sit up and help him undress, slowly becoming impatient. Lucien lays me back down, working himself in his hand. The first inch he slides in burns slightly, but I want more. I hold onto him tight, not wanting him to leave me. He waits a minute for my tight heat to adjust to him before pulling back, only for him to push back in.

I whine, my hips bucking up for more. Lucien kisses me, fingers toying with my sensitive nipples. His thrust steadily increases speed, his groans sounding against my skin. Lucien strokes my hair away from my face. I dig my fingers in his shoulder, leaving little crescents there.

A particularly hard thrust makes me moan loudly. "Are you almost there?" He sweetly asks, moving his thumb back to my bundle of nerves with another hard thrust. As a response, I squeak, my orgasm surprising me as I clench around him. It must trigger him as well, hearing his deep grunt. We stay like that for a few minutes, panting and holding each other. The warm liquid is already leaking out of me.

Lucien pulls out, leaving the room. He comes back seconds later with a wet cloth, gently wiping sweat and mixed essence from my body. He delivers a sweet kiss as he puts some clean panties on me. Lucien goes back to the bathroom to clean himself off. I move under the covers, already feeling exhausted from tonight. 

Lucien comes back, wearing his briefs and snuggling up to me under the covers. "No matter what, I will love you forever. You are mine, and I am yours. You are the only woman for me."

[sensualyerotic]

CHAPTER 2 OF Varsha

Shekhar was sitting in his office typing the findings on his latest research about medicinal fungi when he felt a bit tired and took a break. He called for his office peon Tek Chand Nautiyal and asked him to bring a cup of coffee. He has little idea that while he was in his office his lovely wife was lying naked in the woods rubbing away his pussy.

He was a meritorious student throughout his life and was very shy around girls, so during his school and college he never had a girlfriend. He was more occupied with his studies to flirt with girls and after graduation he went on to do his Phd and then joined ministry of forestry as a scientist. He thought about his beautiful wife and wondered that if this arranged marriage thing was not there he would never have won such a lovely and lively girl.

Varsha was everything to him now, she was his friend, lover, caretaker and a whore in bed. Even after eight years of marriage he never felt that their sex life has diminished rather it has improved during last three years. It was a bit low when Rini was born but ever since she started to go to school he has found a renewed energy in their sex life.

Varsha has maintained her figure by regular exercise on one hand and on other she was experimental in bed. Every other night she will have something new to do, she would do a strip tease for him or dress up as a school girl. She will wear sexy lingerie and would make a show taking them off, she will do something or the other to spice up the things in bed and the result is sex, almost five times a week. Shekhar was often surprised at her energy and the enthusiasm she shows. He was a bit skeptical initially that he was nine years older to her but the age difference never proved to be a problem nor did the average cock size that he has, proved to be a problem.

He knew that she was a virgin at the time of marriage as she howled with pain even with the average size cock he had and she learned everything about sex gradually with him. Although he was also a novice but the two explored each other. Shekhar always found her an innocent little girl and he had no idea of her fetish, even when he witnessed a salesman having a peek of her creamy boobs.

They were out shopping and happened to be in a shoe store. Varsha was trying a sandal and Shekhar was busy with his daughter who was running around the shop. He was at some distance and saw his wife sitting on the stool bending forward adjusting the sandal and the salesman sitting on the floor in front of her. Suddenly he saw the 'pallu' of her saree fall down and through the deep neck blouse her boobs were visible to great depths. Even though he was at some distance but he can also clearly see the cleavage deep down. He looked at the salesman and found him staring at the site before him in an awe.

'Oh my god' he was rooted to his place and watched Varsha who oblivious to everything, was busy fiddling with the sandal. It looked like she was presenting her delicious globs on platter to the salesman. Shekhar was mesmerized and his first thought was for the salesman 'lucky bastard' then he thought of warning Varsha. But before he could act he saw her straightening and pulling back the saree on her breasts. Shekhar looked around to see if anyone else was watching but found none as the only other shopper, a lady and was facing away.

He found that his heartbeat increased and he was feeling aroused. He was distracted when Rini pulled her hand and took him to a rack to point out at a shoe she wanted. For some time he was busy with her and when he looked again at Varsha he found that she was busy with yet another shoe. He was able to see her back from this point and he found that her 'pallu' again slipped from her breasts. From the look of the salesman he was sure that he is getting a delicious view.

Varsha kept on trying different sandals and shoes and continued to expose her boobs to the ogling eyes of salesman. Shekhar wanted to warn Varsha but he was feeling aroused watching his innocent wife unknowingly expose herself in front of this man. The salesman was happily bringing shoes for her to try and enjoyed the view.

Shekhar never mention this to her as he felt ashamed of himself that he knowingly allowed to continue the show. Later in the night he was excited beyond control and mauled her tits, it gives him added pleasure that the salesman could only drool over them while he can have them.

"Saab," his train of thoughts were broken as the peon Tek Chand entered with his coffee, "your coffee."

"Yeah... keep it on the table."

"Saab I want seven days leave."

"Why where are you going?"

"Going to our village I have found a suitable boy for my daughter, so going to meet his parents to finalize her marriage," he replied.

"Ohh, ok no problem."

"My son Chandu would be around he will maintain your garden and if you need he can do other chores for you too."

"That would not be required, gardening would be enough."

Tek Chand nodded and exited his office.

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Varsha returned from her 'walk' in the woods, it was almost quarter past one in the afternoon and Rini was due to be back from school at two O' clock.

"How was your day dear," she enquired as Rini got down from the school bus.

Rini excitedly started narrating whatever happened at school and continued during the lunch also. After the lunch Varsha put her to bed for the afternoon nap and she too slept for two hours with her.

Shekhar returned around seven and Rini immediately jumped in his lap and animatedly started telling about her day. Varsha was busy in the kitchen preparing the dinner.

"Hey don't bother your daddy let him relax," Varsha peeped from the kitchen and scolded Rini.

"No... no... I will play with daddy," she shouted.

"Let her play I am not tired," Shekhar replied.

"I don't want you to get tired now," Varsha spoke meaningfully and Shekhar felt a tingling sensation as he understood what she was hinting about.

Later in the night when Shekhar came to bedroom after putting Rini to bed he found Varsha was wearing a flimsy nighty which was reaching just below her knees. The material was so thin that he could clearly make out every curve on her body and can also see the bra and panty she was wearing. He looked at her admiringly while Varsha has a mischievous smile on her face.

"This arrived today," she pointed towards the nighty, "and also what I am wearing inside."

Shekhar remembered that they ordered a set of fancy bra and panty few days ago and she must be wearing the same under the nighty. Varsha pushed him on the bed and stood beside with a naughty smile.

"You want to see," she asked. Shekhar nodded eagerly feeling his blood rushing to his crotch. Varsha stepped back a bit untying her hairs and shook her head seductively letting the shoulder length hairs fall on her back. She put on some light music and turned on the night bulb then sensually started to sway her hips. Shekhar watched in dim light the little show she put up and felt his cock getting hard. Varsha slowly pulled up the nighty to give him a peek at her creamy thighs and the purple panty, then quickly pulled it back. She teased him until she saw a tent building in his pajamas. She pulled the nighty all the way up and out of her head and stood before him in the purple bra and panty.

Shekhar rubbed his crotch and saw that the material was so transparent that he could see the tout nipples and the fluffy pussy lips. Varsha swayed and turned a full round displaying her body.

"You want more," she whispered, "then show me your hard cock."

Shekhar quickly peeled his clothes off and rubbed the erect cock.

"Mmmm... lovely," she approached him and planted a kiss on his throbbing penis.

Varsha continued the teasing by showing glimpses of her body and in between playing with his cock with her tongue until Shekhar could take it no more and pulled her onto the bed. Varsha moaned loudly as he quickly mounted her. The room was filled with the noises of lovemaking.

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After sending off her husband and daughter, Varsha relaxed in the verandah enjoying the weather and a hot cup of coffee. The weather was romantic with clouds in the sky and she was feeling naughty, she thought of going to shopping mall and have some fun with the salesmen. Last time, she remembered the salesman got a deep look at her cleavage, today she thought of wearing a skirt and can let him have some view down her thighs. The thought sent shivers down her spine and she felt the familiar sensation building inside her. Then she thought of her tailor with whom she was so generous that she allowed him to have a feel of her boobs while taking measurement. She remembers that his hands were trembling and a big bulge was visible in his pants. She finished the coffee but was still not able to decide where to go.

Finally, it was late and she decided to have a walk in the forest. Wearing a jean and a top she locked the house. Chandu was as usual working in the lawn and she enquired about his family etc., then she walked towards the woods.

The sky was partially filled with clouds and the sun was playing hide and seek in the clouds. Varsha reached her usual spot and started to slowly undress, the cold breeze make her nipples stood erect. After keeping all her clothes below a tree, she walked naked on the grass slowly playing with her pussy and nipples.

She was lost in her fantasies, eyes closed, legs spread wide and two fingers buried deep in her pussy when she heard rustling sound close to her. She opened her eyes and saw a large snake was coiled between her spread out legs. Her eyes spread out in fear as she saw him brandish his tongue.

"Mummmmy...." She screamed on top of her lunges as her body trembled and she was unable to move. Her eyes were fixated on the creature which appeared to be looking at her cunt believing it to be the opening of his pit.

"Oh God help me... please go away," the creature was so close to her that she feared even to move a muscle.

Suddenly from nowhere a man appeared beside her, he was holding a stick with which he scooped the snake and sent him flying into the bushes.

"Oh God... Oh God," she was still trembling.

"He is gone," he spoke. Varsha looked at him for the first time and her heart sank as she recognizes Chandu.

"O my god... O my god," she trembled and tried to cover her boobs and pussy with her hand while he looked on at the naked wife.

"My clothes," she was barely able to say these words.

"I'll bring them," he said and ran towards where she has kept her clothes.

Varsha was feeling numb and her mind was not working, 'he has been watching me,' was all that he could think.

Chandu was quickly back with her clothes, but sitting naked in the woods it felt like eternity for Varsha. She quickly got up and started to dress. In the haste she tripped while putting the panty on and fell face forward. Chandu was standing in good position and he didn't let her fall on the ground and held her in his arms.

"Leave me..." she spoke in a wobbly voice as she felt his hands on her naked shoulders and waist. Chandu let her balance herself and watched as she quickly dressed and rushed towards home.

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Varsha almost ran to her home. She was looking behind to see if Chandu was following her but he was not to be seen. By the time she reached home she was able to regain some of her composure.

"O God... O God," she was shaking as she locked the door, "What was he doing there... of all the people... this Gardner... Chandu... how could I ever face him again."

She sat on the couch and tried to catch her breath. The more she thought about it, the more foolish she felt and she cursed herself for being such a stupid ass. Now the whole idea of getting naked in the jungle seems so absurd, she always thought that she would know if someone is approaching and could hide or something, but she never expected what happened today.

Varsha spent the afternoon locked in the house and thinking about the incident. 'He came forward when she shouted for help, it means he was watching me masturbating all this time,' she helplessly crushed the cushion in her hand. She shivered at the thought that Chandu must be boasting about this to his friends and that he has touched her naked body almost hugged her. She was lost in her thoughts and almost forgot to pick up her daughter from bus stop.

Rini was chirping as usual as she walked her home, however Varsha was quiet and was looking around as if everyone around knows her dark secret. Everything was normal and she gained some confidence, 'even if he tells no one will believe him,' she consoled herself.

By evening she was restless again. It was time for Rini to go out in the park and play with her friends and Varsha usually accompany her. While Rini played, she uses to chat with other ladies in the park. But today she was not interested in chatting, her eyes were looking for Chandu. She knew he must be working in some other bungalow. She casually walked on looking into the lawns of other bungalows for any sign of Chandu.

Then she spotted him cleaning a flower bed. Walking close to the fence she hoped he will look at her so that she can signal him, but he was busy and didn't raise his head.

"Chandu," she called him after mustering enough courage.

"Yes Madam," he saw her and quickly came to the edge of the fence.

"I need to have a word with you."

"Sure madam," he looked on.

"Not here," she looked around, "over there," she pointed towards a deserted lane and walked on. After sometime she heard hurried footsteps behind her.

"What were you doing in the forest," she spoke as he came beside her. She cannot look him into eyes and continued to walk.

"I... I... was there," he stammered.

"I know you were there... but why?"

"I use to follow you."

"You mean earlier also you have followed me," she was terrified, "Why?"

"I saw you going into the woods and I was worried because it is not safe, we have often seen Leopards coming to these parts of the jungle... so I followed you... in case..."

'O God,' he has been watching her all the time and she has no idea.

"You mean you would have saved me if Leopard attacked," she giggled nervously.

"Yes sure... I would have," he replied confidently showing a machete hidden in his pants.

Varsha didn't know what to say, she nervously fidgeted and kept on walking without realizing that they have walked into bamboo bushes which were hidden from the road.

"I never wanted to spy on you... I just followed you to warn you... but... but... when I saw you... I didn't... I don't want to interrupt," he spoke slowly while Varsha looked at the ground.

"I hope you have not told this to anybody," she spoke.

"No madam... I can never do that," he quickly replied.

Varsha relaxed feeling the sincerity in his voice and also that he was behaving respectfully as he used to. Not a cheap glance or a sleazy comment, as Varsha was dreading.

"Thanks a lot... please don't tell anyone," she spoke meekly.

"I would never do that."

"You are so sweet... Madam," he spoke getting closer to her.

Varsha first time looked at him closely and found him to be just about her height, a bit shorter for a man, but was sturdy built. He had strong arms and legs and the facial feature were of southeast Asian with short eyes and flat nose, looked sweet and innocent to her. His ancestors migrated from Bhutan long time back. The manual work he did showed in his physic and as she glanced down she saw a bulge in his pant.

'Is he having a boner,' she thought and realized that just couple of hours back she was totally nude before him and probably he has never seen another woman naked. The thought made her feel ashamed as well as aroused.

Chandu was so close to her that he can smell her scent, he can feel the heat emanating from her body and he was not able to control himself. He moved one hand on her back and pulled her in his strong embrace.

"What... what," she was taken aback.

Chandu had one hand on her ass and pulled her sharply into him. Varsha felt his hard cock on her thigh and before she could react she felt his other hand on the back of her head.

"No... no... what are you doing," she squealed and shook her head left and right as he tried to kiss her lips. Her boobs pressed flat onto his chest.

"What do you think you are doing," Varsha shouted and pushed him hard.

"Madam... Madam," he was in a frenzy and managed to kiss her cheeks.

"Let me go immediately," she started hitting him on chest.

Chandu was startled and his grip on her ass loosened. Varsha quickly pushed him back and looked fiercely in his eyes.

"How dare you!!!" she shouted.

"Madam..." he tried to speak but she cut him off.

"What do you think!!! If you have seen me naked, you have the right to fuck me?" she was panting in anger while Chandu looked on like a scared puppy.

"No madam," he looked down.

"I will kill you if you ever touch me," and she stomped back towards her bungalow.

"Today lot of school children visited FRI and I showed them the museum," Shekhar was telling about his day but Varsha's mind was still occupied by the thoughts of the day's events. She absentmindedly nodded to whatever he was saying.

'He must be thinking that I am some kind of cheap woman who will be willing to take any cock that comes her way or else he would not have dared to touch me,' she thought and continued to cook the dinner.

Varsha went to bed after finishing dinner while Shekhar was with Rini telling her some bedtime story. By now her anger was subsided and her mind was working differently, 'he has been watching me doing all those nasty things for so many days, OMG, I have masturbated several times,' she felt ashamed, 'he had a hard on and I was staring at it no wonder he thought I wanted him.'

When Shekhar joined her in bed she was imagining Chandu watching her hidden in the bushes and was getting excited. When Shekhar put a hand on her back she snuggled close to him. He didn't have to ask twice for she was already wet. She put her face on the pillow and went prone asking Shekhar to fuck her doggy style. At the peak of copulation, she felt as if Chandu has a grip on her ass and when she had orgasm his face was in her mind.

They cuddled together after the satisfying sex when Shekhar spoke, "You know my peon Tek Chand, he will be on leave from tomorrow, he is going to his village to fix his daughter's marriage."

"Then?"

"Then... I have to run the household errands, he was a good help."

"Ohh... Ok."

"Although he offered that his son Chandu can do the chores but I don't like this boy so I refused."

"Why? Chandu seems to be a nice boy, why you hate him," she spoke cautiously.

"I don't hate him, but I have heard that he is not a nice guy, its only because of his father that I allowed the gardening job so that it will help him financially for the marriage of his daughter," he spoke.

"What have you heard," Varsha was curious.

"I don't know if it's true or not but some of the staff said that he was involved with the wife of one of the FRI's officer and he even got her pregnant. It seems that the husband was not having good number of sperms to father a child and her getting pregnant made the husband aware of her relationship."

"Ohh... then."

"Then this officer got himself transferred to another place and I don't know what happened, but many neighbors got the whiff of the things before they left."

"Humm," that made Varsha a bit nervous.

"I am not sure if it is true but people in staff swore... anyway I don't like his overall appearance either, so just want to have as little as possible connection with him."

Varsha nodded but she lay awake for a long time and finally when she slept she had dreams of Chandu impregnating her.

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Next three days went uneventful. Chandu came for work as usual and stuck to his work only and didn't tried to come near to Varsha or talk to her. Varsha was apprehensive initially and was thinking of the ways to handle him if he tried to come onto her, but her fears proved wrong and Chandu didn't tried anything. During this period she remained at home and saw him working in the garden.

She was very much relaxed now and felt that whatever her husband said about him must be rumors only, he looks so innocent. Although she has seen him checking her out whenever she was in the garden, but this didn't annoy her rather she felt proud.

On fourth day Chandu was working in the backyard and collecting the home-grown tomatoes while Varsha watched him working from the kitchen window. He collected basketful of tomatoes and knocked on the kitchen door to give it to her.

She opened the door, "put it in the refrigerator."

"I am sorry madam," he spoke putting the tomatoes in the fridge.

"Sorry for what."

"The way I behaved the other day," he spoke looking down.

"It's ok," Varsha felt happy that he was behaving like a gentleman.

"Would you like to have some tea," she spoke happily as she felt a burden lifted from her chest.

"No... no... Madam, please don't bother," he spoke hesitantly and got up to leave.

"Sit down," she ordered, "it's no trouble I was going to make for myself."

"Thank you, Madam," he looked elated.

"Remember to always behave like a good boy... Ok."

He nodded and both of them continued to make small talks until the tea was boiled.

"Here," she handed him a cup.

"Madam can I ask you a question if you promise not to get mad," he spoke.

"What," she was a bit skeptical.

"Why you stopped going to jungle."

"Are you mad," she was furious, "after I know you will follow me, you think I am stupid to go there."

"Please madam don't get angry, I will not follow you."

"No need to be so generous," she scorned, "I am not going there."

Chandu nodded quietly and sipped the tea. Varsha was furious, ashamed as well as aroused all at once.

"You had fun watching me, didn't you?"

Chandu kept quiet. Suddenly Varsha had an idea.

"Ok now it's your turn to get naked."

"What?"

"Yeah, you heard me... get your clothes off... it is quite fair that as you have peeped on me now it's my turn to watch you."

"No Madam," he looked nervous.

"What no? Now get up and close that door," she pointed towards the kitchen door.

He looked unbelievably towards her but found she was serious. After Varsha shouted at him he quickly closed the door. She made him follow her to the guest bedroom.

"Now off with your clothes," she spoke and sat on a recliner. Chandu stood there looking at her sheepishly while Varsha enjoyed his nervousness.

After Varsha persuaded him couple of times he took his shirt off and his hairless strong chest came into view. She looked at the broad shoulders and fair smooth skin and was surprised that it looked good.

Next, he unhooked the pant and let it fall on the floor, inside he was wearing a home stitched long underwear. Varsha smiled looking at the underwear and felt happy that he was embarrassed. He stood there motionless.

"Now take that thing off," Varsha scolded. She was feeling like having a revenge of short, in shaming him.

He undoes the cord of the underwear and it fell on the floor.

"Ahh hum," she looked at the impressive cock and was speechless for a moment. The semi erect cock hung between his legs and it was thick. It looked like the rest of his body, strong and sturdy and was hanging between his legs, coming out of thick bush of black hairs with the big balls hanging behind. Varsha was surprised to see his cock as she expected it to be boyish. She moved her gaze to his face as she felt embarrassed that she was staring at his cock. The idea was to make fun of him and not the other way around.

"What is this with the bush... can't you keep it clean," she taunted finding nothing else to say.

He nodded still looking at the floor. Varsha's gaze returned to his cock, it was not erect but still looked impressive. She has not seen a cock other than her hubby except some in porn movies. She could not help but compare it with Shekhar, 'It must be even bigger when erect,' she thought and immediately felt ashamed. What next, she had no idea what to do now. 'Must ask him to dress and leave,' she thought but didn't speak and kept on staring at his nude body.

Chandu felt ashamed initially to be naked like this but slowly he lost his inhibition. He saw Varsha looking at his cock intently and felt happy. He slowly caressed it and pulled the foreskin back.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat, "what are you doing."

He kept quiet but slowly stroked his cock looking at the hot wife in front of him.

"Is this what you do when you saw me in the jungle," she giggled.

"Yes Madam," he spoke in a low voice.

"Do it... make it big," she wanted to see the erect cock.

"Madam in jungle I saw you nude but now you are fully clothed, this won't get hard."

"Shut up.... Do you think I will get naked for you?"

"Please Madam... I want to see your lovely body.... You are so hot," his voice was hoarse imagining her naked.

"Shut up," she wanted to sound angry but was barely able to speak. Getting nude for an audience was her thing, a kink which leads her to do unthinkable.

"You will not try to touch or I will kill you," she speaks making up her mind.

Chandu quickly nodded not believing his good luck.

Varsha's heartbeat increased as she fidgeted with her long skirt. What is she doing? or why is she doing? she had no answer, all she could think of was, how hard this will make him. As she lifted her skirt above her knees she could feel the piercing eyes of Chandu on her body and she felt very ashamed of herself.

Chandu stroked his cock which was rapidly inflating as those two smooth pillar of thighs were exposed. He has never see another woman who has such an amazing body. Varsha naturally has less body hairs and on top of it she also uses to have a bikini wax regularly.

She arched her body on the recliner and felt like a cheap whore and the look of pure lust on the face of Chandu made her groan in pleasure. She wanted that her audience is aroused by her body. This is much better than doing alone in the jungle. She remembers the last time she deliberately exposed in front of a man in the train and he tried to rape her but today she is in control.

She looked at his fully erect penis. It was large and thick, like a log in between his legs. She cannot help but compare it with her husband's cock, while she never felt that Shekhar's cock was small but looking at this large phallus she shivered imagining it stretching her tight pussy. While Shekhar's cock was dark in color this one was white with pink bulbous head. The skin looked smooth and tight, the length must be an inch longer than Shekhar but the most amazing part is the girth which must be double the size of Shekhar.

"You want more," she groaned.

"Yess... yes madam."

She bunched her skirt at her waist and spread her legs wide, "Remember you cannot touch me," she repeated her warning.

Chandu nodded, his face was a mix of pleasure and torture. He has looked at her nude body many times in the jungles but it was nothing in comparison to this, when this goddess of a women knowingly exposing herself to him. He wanted to take advantage of whatever she is willing to give and not to jeopardize his chances by acting against her will.

His gaze was fixed at the lovely mound between her legs covered by a red panty. He saw a letter 'S' engraved in the middle of the panty and just below the letter he could visualize the thick pussy lips. Precum oozed out of the tip of his cock as he stroked it.

She hooked both her legs on the arm rest of the recliner and spread wide. Chandu noticed the damp spot on his panty,

"Take it out," he moaned.

Varsha looked at him with her half-closed eyes and nodded. She caressed her pussy mound and then put both her thumbs in the waist band of his panty. She lifted her ass a bit and slide down the panty out of her legs and threw it on the floor.

Chandu soaked in the sight of the beautiful and hairless pussy. The thick lips were sticking together hiding the labia within. Varsha moved her fingers over the lips and parted them.

"Did you masturbated when you saw me in jungle."

"Yesss."

"Then do it now," she asked and watched him as he increased his pace of stroking. She herself inserted one finger and then the second, inside her pussy and started to play with herself.

Both of them watched each other pleasuring themselves and got more and more excited. Varsha was pleased to watch the carnal desire on the face of this boy. The room was slowly filled with moans of Varsha while he wanked without noise.

"Ahh... ssss...ouuu," Chandu moaned softly as the first jet of cum landed on the floor. Varsha also reached her peak watching him spurting cum and closed her eyes in ecstasy.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Chandu standing with his cock in his hand and cum splashed over the floor. He was unsure of her reaction and looked sheepishly towards her.

Varsha gave him a reassuring smile, "go and fetch the tissue box from kitchen."

She put back her panty and watched Chandu get dressed. He looked very happy, like he has climbed Mount Everest.

To Be Continued….

[janeofcakes]

Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Ten Feet from the Pack: Chapter 4

Hey, y’all! This chapter was a fun one for me to write and I hope it brings you all as much joy as it has me, especially in this crazy time. I hope this whole story brings you all pleasure and a way to escape for a bit. Love you all.

***

Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight. Just a touch of the fire burning so bright and I don't want to mess this thing up. I don't want to push too far. Just a shot in the dark that you just might be the one I've been waiting for my whole life. So baby I'm alright, with just a kiss goodnight.

                                      --Lady Antebellum, Just a Kiss

The keys of his laptop click away as John types some notes on Witch Hazel, or Anthea, as her parents call her. She had sprained her toe just after the day’s practice. It is John’s fourth week with the team and the ladies are gearing up for the first bout of the season. Hits are harder, skates roll faster, and the chance for injury is growing. Although, and much to her chagrin, Anthea’s injury is not the result of skating. Sherlock had called practice, gathered everyone for the post-practice huddle and then sent them off to clean up. Anthea had the misfortune of slamming her foot into one of the stadium seats. When she kicked it. She was pissed off about something and chose to express herself in an usual and unwise way, as it turned out. In fact, it was the first time John had seen her express any emotion. She typically has her nose buried in her mobile and gives one word answers to every question.

John finishes the last of his notes when there is a knock on his door. He grants entrance as he types the last few words and closes the file. He stands as Bloody Mary Morsten walks in, closing the door behind.

“Hello, Mary,” John walks around the desk to face her properly. “What can I do for you?”

“Quite a bit, I’m sure,” she replies, eyes quickly roving over his body. “I need you.”

She pauses a little too long before continuing and John instantly begins to feel leery. This is not the first time she has flirted with him since they met. She takes a step closer and John wishes there was nothing at his back so he could inch away.

“I think I may have hurt myself during practice.”

“Oh?” John switches to doctor mode, immediately forgetting his unease. “What happened?”

Mary takes another step closer and pulls open the jacket she had held tightly closed up until this point. Not a stitch lies beneath. John does step back, what little he can, startled and trying desperately not to show it. Judging from the small smile on Mary’s blood red lips and the amused gleam in her eyes, he is failing.

“Would you take a look?” she sways her hips and her breasts move with them. She continues in a low, sultry voice. “You can...touch them if you want. In fact, I think you’d better give me a full body examination.”

She steps forward, undressing him with a fiery look. When her focus returns to his eyes, she is pleased to see they are focused on her bosom, but soon realizes they are looking at something lower.

“Hm, I’m more concerned about this,” he bends to look closer at a dark bruise on her ribs just under her left breast.

“What?” she steps back to give him more room, completely thrown off by his remark. Mary peers down to see what he is referring to. “Oh, that’s nothing. Happened a few days ago in practice. What I’m more concerned about…”

“Does this hurt?” he presses gently.

“Jesus Christ!” Mary clamors for her ribs, one hand covering his.

“You have a bruised rib.”

“Oh,” she gasps, but the warmth of his hand under hers and on the cool skin under her breast reminds her why she paid this visit in the first place. She narrows her eyes to look at him hungrily. “You can make me feel better, Doctor. With one deep injection.”

She begins slowly sliding his hand upward, but he immediately pulls it away and takes the barest of steps back before bumping into his own desk.

“Never gonna happen,” he says in a flat tone. “You know the policy as well as I do.”

“Fuck the policy,” she growls, closing the gap and grabbing his waist to hold him steady as she crashes her body against his.

At that moment, the door to John’s office opens as someone knocks on it sharply and Sherlock Holmes walks into the room.

“Sorry to barge in, but Greg wants…” Sherlock stops dead and stares. His eyes dart from John to Mary, who jumped away to glare at him. Her jacket is wrapped tightly around her torso again, but there can be no question in Sherlock’s mind as to what was going on.

“The doctor was just looking at something for me,” Mary supplies angrily. 

“I know exactly at what,” he says in a low and dangerous voice. “What the hell are you doing?”

John’s eyes widen. He had expected the coach’s question and ire to be directed at him, but he is staring pointedly at Mary instead.

“He’s cute. I just couldn’t resist,” she shrugs, unapologetically.

“See that you do,” Sherlock commands in a steady voice. Mary nods, glances at John one last time and then slinks out of the room. Sherlock turns his furious gaze from the now closed door to John.

“Let me guess,” Sherlock says as John opens his mouth.

“I know how this must look,” John interrupts, but the seething man cuts him off.

“She entered under the guise of some injury.”

“She does have a bruised rib,” John interjects in an unassuming tone. He is not about to get defensive about this, something he is not responsible for.

“And once inside, she exposed herself.”

“I’m putting her on IR for six weeks.”

“Six weeks?!” Sherlock bellows. John squares his shoulders and prepares for a fight, ready to defend his position to the end. But Sherlock surprises him, his expression becoming less angry and more thoughtful.

“Fine,” he says in a calm voice that is almost unsettling. “May I remind you of our position on fraternizing with the skaters? Yours is a position of authority.”

“And may I remind you that I would never put any patient in that situation,” John replies hotly. “None of that was my doing. Although, you seem to know that.”

“Indeed,” Sherlock admits after a beat. “Mary is one of our more aggressive players and not exclusively on the track. I’ve been expecting it.”

“Yeah? Well, you could’ve told me. Given me a little warning maybe,” John ‘s voice is rising in volume even as his mind says  shit shit shit.

“I didn’t think it necessary,” Sherlock bites out.

“Oh, you didn’t, did you? But you’re more than willing to throw it in my face when it finally comes to a head. Fucking hypocrite.”

“I beg your pardon,” the coach is somewhere between fury and incredulity.

“I said you’re one to talk with the way you and Molly carry on,” John remarks in a loud voice, temper flaring.

Sherlock’s misty grey eyes turn to stone and his jaw sets like iron. He doesn’t move a muscle and yet, he suddenly seems about ten feet tall and towering over John. Still, the compact doctor does not back down, straightening to his full height as well. Sherlock has a good six inches on him, but John still cuts an imposing figure. 

“Get out,” Sherlock growls. His voice is so low John can scarcely hear him and when he does, those two words tip the scale. John bends forward slightly cupping his ear.

“What? I didn’t catch that,” he straightens again and glares at the taller man. “Oh, are you angry because I had the balls to call you out? I don’t know how the others can ignore it like they do. Are you so important to the team that it doesn’t matter?”

John stares for a beat, giving the man the opportunity to defend himself. When he says nothing, John shakes his head and sneers in disgust.

“You are a coward and a hypocrite. You hold others fast to the rules while you break them as it suits you. You are pathetic, Mr. Holmes, and I’m going to put a stop to it.”

John pushes past Sherlock roughly and has his hand on the doorknob before he stops cold. He spins around quickly with an accusatory finger pointing right in Sherlock’s face. If the man wasn’t furious before, he is now. Sherlock glares down at John with a scowl on his face that sends ice shooting through John’s veins. 

“This is my office,” John nearly shouts. “ You get out.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They continue to stare at one another, neither moving an inch. Sherlock finally rolls his eyes and huffs, shifting his feet impatiently.

“You’re in the way,” he says petulantly.

John doesn’t move. His gaze is focused on those soft grey eyes. Soft now in spite of the raised voices and insults. He can see so many emotions within them and he is intrigued. He can’t stop himself from looking and seeing, just seeing. Anger, regret, curiosity, respect, friendliness and interest, and lingering behind it all, panic? And just like that, John’s mood, the air in the room, everything changes. Lifts. The anger leaks out of John’s body and pools on the floor around his feet.

Sherlock, on the other hand, now seems to be annoyed in addition to furious. He rolls his eyes again while John stands fixed to the spot and studies him. Clearly frustrated, Sherlock steps forward and tries to muscle his way to the door, but John has none of it. After another try to no avail, the coach backs up with a long and angry sigh, and glares at John with his hands on his hips.

“You’re really starting to piss me off now.”

“Sherlock,” John says in a calm voice that even surprises him.

“What?” he answers in a clipped tone.

John looks at the man standing before him and suddenly it occurs to him that he has never actually seen Sherlock like this before. Even in a month of time here, he has always seen him in the gym shorts, tees and bandanas from practice. No one in meetings minds what he is wearing because he usually has afternoon practice post-meeting anyway. Why change?

But now he is wearing sleek black trousers and a bespoke, white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, like some sort of well-dressed scientist about to begin an experiment. All he needs are goggles. And speaking of eyes, dark brown curls fall artfully around them, setting off pale skin and sharp cheekbones. John blinks once at this sight he has never before seen. He had not even considered what Sherlock’s hair might look like, always hidden under black, blue or dark purple bandanas. Never in his life would he have imagined what stands before him now and that is the precise moment that John realizes how little he knows about this man. Where did he come from? How did he get here? What exactly is his connection to Molly Hooper? Mrs. Hudson told him a lot during the conference, but it still seems like so little now when he suddenly wants to know everything about Sherlock Holmes. 

“You see,” John finally answers almost playfully, “I don’t know you.”

“What?” Sherlock’s brow furrows, creating a small wrinkle right across the bridge of his nose. John’s brows and the corners of his mouth rise in tandem. That was clearly not what the coach expected to hear and John finds it incredibly amusing. And oddly endearing.

“I’ve gotten to know all of the ladies a bit in the last month, had lunches with Greg and Mike and other staffers, but I know virtually nothing about you.”

The wrinkle between Sherlock’s eyes deepens as he studies John. The corners of his mouth turn down as he searches John’s face and cocks a brow.

“I rather thought Mrs. Hudson already covered that,” he replies with some bitterness.

“She told me about your time with Rock City and about hiring you, what she saw in you and how she feels about you. She didn’t say anything else. I’d like to know you and hear it from you,” John tells him emphatically. “And I can tell you about myself too.”

“I already know everything about you,” Sherlock says haughtily.

“Oh, I’m quite sure you don’t.” John chuckles

“I seriously doubt that,” Sherlock retorts smugly.

“Yeah, right, I know. You read people, but it’ll be my voice and my perspective. There’s value in that that your method ignores.”

Sherlock looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, considering his words carefully. John can practically hear the cogs turning. The light in the man’s eyes changes with his decision and even sparkles with intrigue just a little. The prospect of a new puzzle to work out, perhaps?

“All right,” he acquiesces.

“Okay. So...dinner?”

“Dinner?”

“Let’s have dinner.”

“What? Tonight?”

“Yes,” but then John back peddles, “unless you have plans.”

“No,” Sherlock rushes to say before trying for a more casual tone. “I mean, nothing specific.”

“Good. We could leave from here around six?”

“I can do that.”

“Great. I’ll drive and you pick the place. I don’t know enough about the city yet to find something suitable.

Sherlock chuckles good-naturedly and almost slyly too.

“I know the perfect place”

***

Sherlock sits at his desk, his eyes wide and focused on the screen of his laptop. He is making notes on a new play, but his fingers have inexplicably stopped moving. He stares right at the words, the cursor blinking behind the last one and yet, he sees nothing. His mind, that should be filled with skaters on the track dodging this way and that, bringing his plan to life in his thoughts, is awash with John Watson instead.

He presses his lips together in a thin line and glances at the clock on the wall. He’s nervous. Why the hell is he nervous? It’s not like it’s a date. It’s nothing. It’s just two colleagues having dinner to chat and get to know one another. Never mind Sherlock has been avoiding John as much as possible for the specific purpose of not getting to know him. After all, the less John knows about him the better, and vice versa. Mrs. Hudson has already told him enough. Sherlock rolls his eyes. She means well, but she does meddle.

Sherlock raps his fingers on the desk one by one in a distinct pattern. He glances at his notes. At the clock. Back to his notes.  Goddammit. It’s nothing. Nothing!  John merely made a suggestion and Sherlock agreed. He did not ask him out. Just because Sherlock is going to his favorite restaurant with a gorgeous man does not mean…  Oh, fuck.  Sherlock drops his face into his hands and sighs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His head snaps up at the light tap on his door as it opens. Sherlock’s eyes are wide again and he swallows audibly as John steps in with a warm smile on his face.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late. I was finishing up some notes,” he pauses to take in Sherlock’s appearance and tilts his head slightly. “You okay?”

“Fine,” the coach clears his throat. “I’m fine. Just doing the same.”

“Oh. Are you finished?” John gestures out to the hall. “I can wait if you need more time. You could just give me a call.”

“No, no,” Sherlock says quickly, suddenly on his feet and yanking the suit jacket from his chair, “it’s a good stopping point.”

He pulls on his jacket and closes the office door after they are both through. The two men walk side by side down the hall. Having regained his typical ease and confidence, Sherlock looks sideways at John with a smirk on his lips.

“I hope Italian is all right. Now’s your last chance to protest.”

“Sounds delicious,” the doctor replies with a grin.

***

The car ride to Angelo’s is comfortable and has Sherlock feeling as though he has known John for much longer than he actually has. There is no insipid small-talk, only easy silence interrupted by Sherlock’s directions and occasional tidbits about the neighborhoods they pass through. He does tell John that Angelo is an old friend and that they met almost as soon as Sherlock moved back to Detroit. It has been a long day at the stadium and Sherlock was starving. He had gotten in his car and just started driving. It was late enough that the staff had gone, but Angelo let him in and the two had talked for two hours while Sherlock ate an enormous bowl of pasta. 

John laughs at the story and Sherlock’s stomach does a flip.

Angelo catches sight of the tall coach and his doctor as soon as they enter the little restaurant. The robust man is at Sherlock’s side in an instant, throwing his arms around him like he would a son.

“Sherlock, my boy, why have you been away so long?” he laughs. “I thought this was the off-season, yeah?”

“Skating doesn’t stop because there aren’t any bouts,” Sherlock chuckles.

“Neither does eating,” Angelo reminds knowingly. Is it Sherlock’s imagination or did John just glance at his slender frame? Probably thinks he is too thin like everyone else, Sherlock thinks as he shakes it off.

Angelo takes a few steps back to look the two men over and then he’s shaking John’s hand.

“But now you think of old Angelo and bring your date to the best restaurant in all of Detroit,” he winks obviously at Sherlock.

“He’s not my date,” Sherlock says quickly in a clipped tone, feeling his cheeks growing hot and hoping they aren’t as pink as they feel. 

“Oh, sure. Of course he isn’t,” Angelo winks at John conspiratorially. “Come. I’ll take you to his table.”

Angelo pulls John along as they introduce themselves to one another. Sherlock follows in silence. He rolls his eyes once John’s back is turned and brings a hand to his face, pinching lightly between his eyebrow and cheekbone. He drops the hand quickly and grins, trying to look nonchalant when John looks back at him suddenly. Angelo presents them with a candle and bottle of wine after they are seated at a quiet table in the corner. John has a wide grin on his face while the man fusses over them and Sherlock becomes the focus of that smile once Angelo has gone. 

Another flip.

“He’s quite the character, isn’t he?” John laughs, waving a hand toward the candle.

“He is very boisterous, yes,” Sherlock replies mildly, wondering how to defuse the situation, but John surprises him and not for the first time.

“It’s delightful,” he smiles. He might have said more, but their server interrupts to give them menus and tell them about the specials. A moment later finds Sherlock studying John rather unabashedly as the doctor scans the menu. He would stop, but John does not seem to notice. 

“The ravioli al forno is very good,” Sherlock offers. John’s eyes rise from the menu to gaze at him. “The alfredo sauce is legendary.”

“Legendary?” John laughs. “How do you figure that?”

“Angelo has won more awards locally and nation-wide than any other.”

“Well, that is legendary, isn’t it?” John replies from behind his water glass. “I think that’s made my choice for me. And you?”

“Cheese and spinach ravioli. Can’t do without it.”

John opens his mouth to speak, but the server is back with bread and olive oil. The young man makes lame conversation as he prepares the oil, mixing in fresh black pepper and parmesan. By the time he has finished and taken their orders, Sherlock is ready to tell him to piss off. John must sense the tension because he remains silent, merely studying Sherlock while he sips his wine as if he is giving Sherlock a chance to cool down.

After a minute or so, John places the glass on the table and leans back in his chair casually. Sherlock cannot explain it, but he feels totally at ease with this man. He narrows his eyes and leans back in his own chair to suss out why.

“You said you met Angelo when you came back to Detroit,” John begins, “so you lived here before.”

Sherlock’s eyes pop open wide and he doesn’t even try to hide his surprise. Most people would need a fact like that to be pointed out and not draw the conclusion from just ordinary conversation.

“Oh, Doctor,” a smile spreads slowly across Sherlock’s lips, “you not only see, you observe.”

“I learned to watch and listen to everything over my years in medicine,” John shrugs, ducking his head at the praise.

Once again, their intrepid server appears to derail the conversation. Fortunately, more of his other tables are full now and he gives them their salads relatively quickly. They each unroll utensils from napkins and begin to eat. As Sherlock closes his mouth around a honey mustard-laden tomato, John looks at him again with the barest hint of a smile. 

“So?” he rests his elbows on the table and brings his hands together, fork still in the fingers of his left hand. Sherlock brings a cloth napkin to his lips and blots away a bit of salad dressing. He takes a deep breath in and straightens his spine.  Into the breach.

“I was born here,” he says simply. “In a suburb. Our house was on a cul de sac. It was one of those storybook neighborhoods. Everyone knew each other, the schools were close, we skated to the playground.”

“Skated? You skated even back then?”

“Oh, yes,” Sherlock answers. He watches John eat a bite of his salad and decides to push his luck. If John is asking him about his past, he may as well do the same. It may not be the best move, but he is willing to take the risk of revealing more of his deductions to learn even more about John Watson. “You’re an only child.”

John stops chewing and locks eyes with him. For a moment, Sherlock is afraid he has overstepped and his heart stops as he waits for John’s expression to turn into a scowl. But John just starts chewing again and flashes that brilliant smile after he swallows. 

“How could you possibly know that?” he shakes his head with a laugh.

“Behavior,” Sherlock tells him. “You are very independent and driven. You may work well with others, but have set ways of doing things. You speak of your parents fondly, but not of siblings.” He pauses, the corners of his mouth turning up and a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I’m not wrong.”

“No, you’re not,” John supplies. “My parents would’ve liked another child. They thought I needed a playmate, but I did fine on my own. I had a lot of friends.”

“Mine too. It just never worked out for them,” Sherlock admits grimly, remembering how he used to ask his mother when he would have a brother. He was too young to understand at the time. Sherlock turns his gaze back to John and continues. “Then the Hoopers moved in next door. I was six and Molly was five. We were instant friends. We did everything together. Neither of us really had any family. Grandparents dead and the like, so we spent holidays together. We would have one at my house and the next at hers.”

Sherlock pauses to sip from his wine glass. John is looking at him with rapt attention like he is the most interesting person on the planet. Sherlock tries not to dwell on this and also tries desperately to ignore the flip in his belly.

“At Christmas, when I was eight, our parents gave us skates. We couldn’t wait until spring,” he smiles at the memory. “We’d put them on sometimes just to feel the weight of them on our feet and that pull at our legs. We would stand in our bedrooms and balance on one foot, then the other. We’d walk around the room on our toe stops,” he looks at John and leans forward over his salad as though telling a secret. “We had to do it quietly so our parents wouldn’t find out we had them on inside the house. It really was a great way to master footwork without even realizing.”

Their server suddenly appears, earning him a glare from Sherlock. But he bites his tongue and hands the young man his picked-over salad. Sherlock finds himself excited to continue, which is odd because he doesn’t usually offer information about himself to others. This whole conversation is odd. It is like talking to Molly, only different somehow. He cannot quite put his finger on it. It is certainly just as comfortable as talking to her.

“Molly and I used to walk to the library in the snow after school to look at journals and magazines,” Sherlock says after the server has gone. He pops a ravioli into his mouth, his eyes sparkling. “We learned all about bearings and wheels and the tools we would need to make adjustments. Then Molly came up with shoveling driveways and using the profits to buy what we needed to be real professionals. Or, at least, what the minds children thought professionals would need. We weren’t far off though.”

“You did all this when you were seven and eight?” John asks in disbelief.

“It was the late 80s,” Sherlock shrugs. “I don’t know what it was like in London, but things were pretty lax and the suburb was like a small town where nothing bad happens. They all knew us and we just went around the cul de sac and up the street, not far at all. Our parents knew it was safe and that we could be trusted. Mom used to say I was an adult at five.”

Sherlock smiles at the memory almost wistfully. When he meets John’s eyes again, the doctor wears the same expression. John swallows a bite and props his elbow on the table to rest his chin on one hand.

“So when did you and Molly get into derby?” he asks with interest.

“We saw a match on TV once.”

“The bouts are televised?”

“On local channels. Nation-wide during the championship,” Sherlock chuckles at John’s wrinkled brow. “Don’t worry if you’ve never noticed. It’s rather eclipsed by the Stanley Cup playoffs, but it pulls in decent viewership.”

“I’ll have to look for that this year,” John smiles.

“You’ll be front and center this year,” Sherlock smiles back.

“So the bout you saw,” John shifts in his seat to move closer to the table, closer to Sherlock. He can see the excitement in the man’s eyes. Another flip. “How old were you then?”

“Nine and ten,” Sherlock answers, silently cursing his damn stomach. “From then on we started blocking each other. Sometimes we got other kids in the neighborhood to block while we jammed.”

“They just stood there and let you slam into them on roller skates?” John’s mouth hangs open in disbelief.

“We were kids,” Sherlock shrugs again. “We were invincible.”

“Oh, god. That’s fantastic,” he covers his mouth and leans back in his chair. He is back to the table again in seconds and seems like he is leaning even further over his plate. “Did you ever get in trouble?”

“No, not really. We all had some good scrapes, but never anything serious,” Sherlock drinks some wine, replaces his glass and waves his hand as a means of transition. “We kept at it for years. We started learning everything - rules, techniques, strategies - everything. We were going to be championship skaters together.” 

He pauses and lets his gaze fall to the candle, staring almost unseeing. 

“And then when I was a freshman in high school, the P.E. teacher told me derby was a sport exclusively for women.”

John sits back in his chair and his shoulders drop. His expression full of pain and empathy, he waits for Sherlock to continue. He looks exactly how Sherlock imagines he did when Coach Jones broke the news.

“I was devastated. And I felt incredibly stupid.”

“Stupid?” John’s voice is hushed. “Oh no.”

“Somehow, in all the bouts we’d watched, I never deduced that all female teams meant it was a women’s only sport,” Sherlock pauses thoughtfully and marvels at how caught up John is. He has never had such an attentive audience and his damn stomach flips again. “I told Molly as soon as I got home.”

“What did she do?”

“What could she do? She thought it was unfair and hated seeing my dreams crushed. She was angry as hell, but she couldn’t change it. Neither could I.”

John leans in again, elbows on the table and hands together in between, his fingers entwined. His face is so open and sincere. Another flip. 

Shit.

“What did you do?”

“I started training with Molly even more so she could be the best skater derby had ever seen,” Sherlock replies resolutely. “I gave her advice and told her about the strategies I’d been dreaming up.”

“You coached her.”

“I suppose so,” he reflects, “but I would never have called it that at the time. Molly joined the derby class when she started high school. Coach Jones offered it after school, unofficially, of course. I think he only did it because Detroit has two teams, and because he liked it. Midway through the year, and at Molly’s urgence,  he let me join in coaching. I took a year of community college for Molly’s senior year so we could keep training.”

“You put off university for Molly,” John restates in what looks like awe. Sherlock simply nods and John shakes his head with a quiet laugh. “You’re amazing.”

Sherlock’s fork stops half way to his mouth and he raises his eyes to meet John’s. The moment hovers thickly in the air between them. Sherlock cannot tear his eyes from his colleague’s face. The doctor looks content and relaxed, his eyes full of admiration. Sherlock clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders.

“We both went our separate ways once she graduated. Molly to Iowa because there was a derby program in athletics, not to mention the Old Capitol City team outside of the U, and I went to Wisconsin,” Sherlock pauses a moment to chew the bite waiting on his fork. John just sips his wine patiently. “She was recruited right out of school, as you know, and then negotiated her way back to Detroit, with Mrs. Hudson’s help.”

“Yes, Martha told me about that. All sounds like a damn nuisance,” John remarks.

“It is,” Sherlock rolls his eyes and takes a drink.

“So Molly started living her dream. What did you do?”

“I...got married.”

John nearly spits a mouthful of wine across the table, swallowing quickly and rushing the glass to his lips to catch any drips. His eyes blink wide.

“Does that surprise you? Do I not seem the marrying kind?”

“No. I mean,” he clears his throat with a little cough. “It’s certainly not what I expected.”

“Molly stayed in the midwest. Well, Ohio before heading back to Detroit and I followed Victor to California for grad school. I hadn’t intended on studying, but I was bored with my job within five minutes and Victor thought I’d enjoy school. Molly and my parents did too, for that matter.”

“And what did you study?”

“Physics.”

“Ah,” John grins cheekily, “makes sense with all the strategies, cuts and turns, and all those jumps.”

“So you have been paying attention in practice,” Sherlock smirks.

“Couldn’t help it, could I?” John says, puffing out a breathy chuckle. Sherlock hesitates a moment and then presses on. He might as well finish the story.

“We both finished in two years and got jobs. I started teaching at Stanford and Victor joined the family business practicing law,” Sherlock sighs in resignation at the memories. “He was expected to attend a lot of formal functions and parties, and needed someone attractive and poised on his arm. I fit the bill, but he wanted someone with no life of his own and nothing to do but help him look good. What Victor wanted was a trophy wife and I did not fit that bill. To make matters worse, he never understood my relationship with Molly and hated our marathon phone calls once a week. We divorced a year after graduation.”

“He was a fool,” John all but whispers, shaking his head. His expression is soft and his eyes look almost sad. Sherlock’s stomach flips again and much more dramatically than usual. He only just hides his astonishment from the doctor. To that end, he rushes on before John has a chance to notice and before Sherlock can think much about what it could all mean.

“My life was in tatters and I wasn’t happy teaching. I still had friends, but felt so alone. That’s when Molly convinced me to try and find a coaching position on a derby team,” he laughs to himself. “I was sure I wouldn’t even get any interviews, but they were actually anxious to meet with me. Turned out I had a reputation for being the man who trained Molly Hooper.”

“Ha-ha! Way to go, Molly,” John laughs. “So you coached for a bit somewhere else and then Mrs. Hudson hired you?”

“Something like that. I was an assistant coach because I hadn’t coached formally before, and I was so young. No one was about to give me my own team,” Sherlock corrects. “Mrs. Hudson took a big chance making me head coach at 28.”

“She told me that too,” John grins.

“I’m sure she did,” Sherlock snickers.

“And how you brought the team back from ruin. Very admirable.”

“Mrs. Hudson exaggerates.”

“No, I don’t think she does,” John replies with a knowing look. “You forget I’ve met with all the staffers. Paul Dimmock, Daniel and Craig, Greg - they all say it.”

“What about you?” Sherlock asks suddenly, eager to change the subject.

“What about me?” John counters.

“Did you grow up in London?”

“I did, yeah. There weren’t a lot of kids in my neighborhood, so I spent most of my time on my own. That’s how my parents discovered my aptitude for knowledge,” John dabs at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. Sherlock licks his own lips and his eyes fall to John’s for just a moment. The barest hint of a moment is all he allows himself and his damn stomach flips again. He sighs quietly.

Sherlock is in trouble.

“They found me in what doubled as a library and office when I was four. There I was, under the desk with a book in my lap. They thought it odd because it was decidedly not a picture book. It wasn’t until I started talking to them about the events described in that book, and others, that they realized I was reading them. And quickly too,” John puffs out a breath and looks away, out into the restaurant at other patrons as if in disbelief at his own memories. “They had been teaching me letters, sounds and colors, things of that nature, for a week or so. There weren’t any nursery schools close enough to our house and they’d taken it upon themselves to teach me the basics. Meanwhile, I used what they had imparted upon me and taught myself how to read.”

Sherlock watches John in fascination. There is absolutely no sense of superiority or condescension in his tone or manner. If anything, John seems almost dumbfounded by his own intelligence. It is both charming and odd. He is in a position to have become an incredible asshole and yet, he is friendly and unassuming. Sherlock wonders at how John’s parents kept him grounded. They must have been good people indeed.

“Did they test your IQ or send you to boarding school or…” Sherlock trails off. He feels like a nosy idiot. John must think him a fool, especially since he already said his parents didn’t enroll him in nursery school - is that preschool, he wonders - based on geography. They couldn’t have had the funds for such things if they needed a school nearby. As if reading his mind, John shakes his head slightly, taking a drink of water.

“We weren’t a wealthy family,” he begins, “but what my parents were rich in was connections. My mum’s best friend was a tutor, so she came to work with me in the evenings. When I was old enough, dad got me into an upscale public school. He coached the entire board at cricket in the summer. They even talked my way into uni and medical school. My marks and accomplishments helped too, but it was mostly them. They knew everyone and everyone thought the world of them.”

John wears a fond smile and has a far away look in his eyes. He clearly shares the opinion and loves them dearly. But suddenly he sobers and the wistfulness vanishes.

“My dad was diagnosed with cancer my last year of medical school and died just after I graduated. With mum it was an auto accident,” he looks at Sherlock and smiles again. “That, and boredom eventually drove me to America and hockey. Anything else you want to know? Or do you know it all now between Mrs. Hudson and your deductions, which I still find amazing, by the way. You have to tell me how you do it.”

Sherlock’s lips quirk up at the corners. He looks down again at the candle flickering on the table between them.

“Maybe another time,” he says coyly.  Oh, god. What is he doing? He raises his eyes to meet John’s. “Have you ever married?”

What is he doing? What the fuck is he doing? He is not flirting with John Watson. He is absolutely not flirting. He is simply engaging him in perfectly normal conversation.

Right.

Right.

Fuck.

“Eh, no,” John answers slowly, mild confusion on his face. He is probably trying to figure out what the hell Sherlock is playing at. Sherlock glances toward the restroom. Maybe he should excuse himself, slip into the shadows and hope the moment has passed by the time he returns. Or maybe he could climb through the small window by the sinks.

“I’ve had the odd relationship over the years, but have never been anywhere close to marriage,” John says, distracting Sherlock from his escape plans. Strangely, John appears to be completely at ease again as though Sherlock hadn’t said anything so idiotic at all and the coach is thankful for it. “Didn’t even bother dating in California, which worked out since I didn’t stay long. But now…”

John stops short. He stares at Sherlock a moment with wide eyes, his muscles tense. He looks as though he has either given himself away or been caught in the cookie jar. What had he been about to say?

“But now?” Sherlock prompts him. He shouldn’t, but cannot help himself. John is the most interesting man he has ever met.

“I didn’t miss much,” John amends and takes a quick drink of water. His eyes are shifty and he looks away pointedly. That is absolutely not what he was going to say and Sherlock knows it. And John knows he knows it.

Sherlock’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, but he does not have the chance to speak because Angelo is suddenly at their table.  He asks about dinner and if they would like dessert or more wine. Both give him their compliments and turn down both offers. John goes on a bit about the alfredo and Sherlock can’t blame him. It is amazing.

In the end, John suggests coffee and Angelo is more than happy to oblige. Once the cups are delivered to the table and the restaurant’s proprietor gone, the two men talk and laugh together. They share stories they haven’t in years and even ones they have told no one before. Sherlock, for one, cannot believe the evening is real. He has never experienced anything quite like it. Molly is the only person he can talk to this freely. It does not make any sense, but he feels he has known John Watson for just as long and can trust him just as much. There is one very important difference, however. He has never wondered if Molly’s hair is as soft as it looks. Nor has he wondered the same about her lips.

That is exactly why Sherlock has avoided John since that first day they met. He knew this would happen and he will not allow entanglements. John has attended nearly every practice and Sherlock has all but run from the track each time to keep from talking to the doctor and risking a conversation just like this one. Now he is trapped. He could not escape John’s gaze if he wanted to and he cannot keep himself from glancing at John’s mouth or wishing he could touch him. 

Sherlock sighs. His resolution to steer clear of romantic entanglements is in tatters. It faded before his eyes the moment he met John Watson and his heart did it whole-heartedly without even consulting him. Sherlock knows he should be furious with himself, but instead he feels delighted and almost refreshed. Happier than he has felt in some time, if he is honest. He is just as mystified by that and he is by John himself.

“Shit,” John mutters, glancing around the restaurant. “There’s no one here. What time is it?”

Sherlock looks around while John checks his watch. The dining room is empty. Sherlock wouldn’t be surprised if Angelo is the only other person there.

“Shit,” John repeats. “It’s after midnight. We should get out of here.”

As if on cue, Angelo reappears and insists they owe him nothing when they try to pay. The three men debate it all the way to the door, which Angelo unlocks to let them out. John and Sherlock finally concede and say goodnight as they step out onto the sidewalk. Soon they are walking to John’s car in a comfortable silence. 

“Shall I take you back to the stadium?” John asks, breaking through the quiet spell in the air around them. “Did you drive in this morning?”

“No,” Sherlock answers, looking sideways at John. “Greg wanted to talk and we were both booked up all day. I hitched a ride in so we could talk on the way.”

“Well,” John nods, “I could take you to your flat, if you want.”

“My what?”

“Sorry. Your apartment,” John sneers the word and then laughs. “I’ll never get used to that word no matter how long I live here.”

Sherlock chuckles with him and opens the passenger door when they reach the car.

“You certainly don’t have to use it on my account,” he looks across the car roof with a bright smile. “I believe the proper term for my home is condo.”

John laughs jovially as they climb in.

“Thanks so much for that,” he replies sarcastically.

Sherlock gives John directions as they go and before long, they are parked outside his building. He turns to face John, but doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Once again, it feels like the end of a date where neither party can decide if he should kiss the other. God, how Sherlock wants to this time. Just the thought makes his stomach flip. Again. It is really starting to piss him off and yet, he hopes the feeling never stops.

“Thank you for driving me,” Sherlock says softly, “and for suggesting dinner. I enjoyed it very much.”

“Yeah, me too,” John smiles. “We should do it again.”

“I’d love to.”

The words are out of Sherlock’s mouth before he can stop them. He closes his eyes slowly, scolding himself. He has no idea how to explain that one away and just hopes John does not interpret it the way it sounded. Against his better judgement, Sherlock chances a look at the doctor. Instead of anger or utter confusion, John wears a brilliant smile without a hint of guile.

“Great. Let’s do it soon, and often,” he replies pleasantly. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

“Of course, John. I’ll see you there,” Sherlock says with a silent sigh of relief.

***

First of all, STEP OFF MARY. WTF. Stay away from MY doctor, says Sherlock. Am I right? They may not be an item in any way, shape or form at this point, but you can’t tell me Sherlock wasn’t jealous and not just ticked off at the policy violation. Aside from that, our boys move ever closer to one another. They have trusted one another with their pasts and started making a real connection. If Angelo has any say in that, they’re boyfriends already. Haha! 

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, everyone. Stay safe and keep your stick on the ice. We’re all in this together. (*sigh* I miss hockey)

@zentris @toooldforthissh-stuff @shana-movershaker @melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa @thetranslucentwallaby @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler

[melodiouswhite]

Classic Literature Vines Compilation - Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde pt. 03

Lanyon: Hey, can I have some of that water? Hyde: It's not water. Lanyon: Vodka! I like your style- Hyde: It's vinegar. Lanyon: What?! Hyde: It's vinegar, pussy!

--

Utterson: Babe, do the thing! Hyde: *genuinely smiles* Utterson [breathless]: Oh my god …

--

Jekyll: Lanyon, have you seen the Lady? She was supposed to meet me here- Lanyon: Let me find that out. Lanyon: HASTIE LANYON DOESN'T DESERVE TO BE LOVED!!! Lady Summers, unsheathing her sword: WHO IS HAVING A DEATH WISH TODAY?! Lanyon: Problem solved. Jekyll: Knew it.

--

Jekyll: I studied the soul for decades, so I know almost everything about it. Lady Summers: You know nothing, Henry Jekyll.

--

Hyde: *posing on the desk seductively* You like what you see, Doctor? Jekyll: … Jekyll: *awkward, unwelcome lust for other self intensifies*

--

Jekyll: This is going to be a horrible day. Utterson, passing by: Good morning, Jekyll! Jekyll: This is going to be a wonderful day.

--

Hyde: I have a problem! Lady Summers: You have countless problems. Hyde: But this is THE problem! Lady Summers: Alright, what ails you? Hyde: Every time I see Utterson, I feel all weird! Lady Summers: Be more specific. Hyde, in one breath: My heart beats faster, I feel hot and cold, there's a weird tickling in my stomach, that almost gives me nausea, I feel the urge to kill, when someone even looks at him, I get all red, when he talks to me, he makes me feel jealous and possessive and my mood lightens up, when he pays attention to me, if he's not there, I'm more irritable than usual and I want him to be all mine, I hate, when he gets hurt, when someone talks shit about him, I just want to kill- Hyde: *gasps for air* Lady Summers: It's simple, Mr. Hyde: You have developed an emotional attachment to Mr. Utterson. Hyde: … Hyde: You're saying I'm in love. Lady Summers: Eh, it's too early to speak of love- Hyde: I'M NOT IN LOVE!!! *rushes off* Lady Summers, after Hyde is gone: He's totally in love. 

--

Lady Summers: Us women aren't allowed to influence politics. Lady Summers: So the only way for us to gain a modicum of agency is to influence those who make the politics.

--

Lady Summers: This is going to be a wonderful day! Sameer, her Indian butler: Milady, you have been invited to a ball by the Princess of Wales. Lady Summers: This is going to be a horrible day. 

--

Utterson: H*ck. Lady Summers: Why did you censor that? Hyde: Because it's a fucking bad word.

--

Jekyll: I'm going to play God and split the evil out of my soul, so I can be a good man! Jekyll: What could possibly go wrong? Hyde: Hi! I'm here to ruin everything.

--

Utterson: *running his hands through Hyde's hair* Hyde: What are you doing? Utterson: I just found something I like better about you than about Henry. Hyde: *blushes* Wh-what? Utterson: Your hair is lovely. The colour, the silkiness, the fluff- Hyde: Sh-shut up! >///<

--

Jekyll: Guys, am I a good man? Utterson: *awkwardly* Uhhh … Poole: *hesitantly* That's very subjective … Lady Summers: *shrugs* Not really. Lanyon: Lol, nope. Hyde: AHAHAHAHAHA, DO I LOOK LIKE YOU'RE A GOOD MAN?! Jekyll: … Jekyll: I hate you all. 

--

Poole: Mr. Utterson, help! I lost Master Hyde! Utterson: Don't worry, I've got this. Utterson: GABRIEL JOHN UTTERSON IS A PIECE OF SHIT!!! Hyde, out of nowhere: WHO WANTS TO FUCKING DIE?! Utterson: There he is.

--

Jekyll: That was amazing, but did you really have to scratch my back open with those insane finger nails of yours? The scars will be permanent. Hyde: Requiting your compliment, but did you have to bite into my shoulder and neck that hard? The hickeys will never go away.

--

Queen Victoria: This is going to be a boring party. Lady Summers: *waltzing in like she owns the place* Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen! I was invited, so I'm here to ruin everything! Queen Victoria: This is going to be an amusing party. 

--

Utterson: It's so cute how small and petite he is. Hyde: REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE- Utterson: So cute. Lanyon: … Lanyon: Am I the only one who hasn't gone bonkers yet?! Lady Summers: Actually, Dr. Lanyon, you're just as much off your rocker as we are.

--

The British government, August 1885: Being queer was always disgusting, but now it's officially illegal. Jekyll & Utterson: Shit. Hyde: Oh wow, look at all the fucks I give! 

--

Lanyon: So, you're really dating Gabriel now? Jekyll: Yeah. Lanyon: Well, congratulations, Henry! I'm happy for you, but just a friendly reminder: you were a horrible lover back when you and I were together. Jekyll: *ashamed* I know. And I'm so- Lanyon: *wags an index finger* Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! That's in the past. There is only one more thing I need you to know- Lanyon:  -If you hurt Gabriel, like you hurt me, I'll make you WISH that Hyde had consumed your soul, Henry Jekyll! And tell Hyde that, if HE hurts him, I'll make sure that no one will ever find your body. Jekyll: *gulps* D-duly noted, Hastie.

--

Lanyon: How is the loveliest flower in the Empire doing? Lady Summers, without looking up from her paper work: I don't know, how are you? Lanyon, tearing up: I … I'm fine.

--

Hyde: I don't give a damn about anyone other than myself! Utterson: *exists* Hyde: … Hyde: Shit. 

--

Hyde: I don't care about Jekyll. Jekyll: I HAVE ANXIETY!!! Hyde: GODDAMMIT, NOT AGAIN!!! *gets tea, muffins and a blanket* 

--

Lanyon: Henry, that is a bad idea. Jekyll: You're such a horrible friend. Some random scientist: Dr. Jekyll, your ideas are rubbish. Lanyon, before Jekyll can react: *grabs the guy by the collar* DAFUQ DID YOU JUST SAY??? THE ONLY ONE WHO'S ALLOWED TO CRITICISE HIM IS ME!!! Jekyll: … Jekyll, tearing up: You're such a good friend.

--

Lanyon: *walking down the streets, minding his own business* ^_^ Some passerby: Lol, look at that freak's eyes! Lanyon: … *struggling not to cry* *a wild Jekyll, Hyde, Utterson and Lady Summers appear* Jekyll, Hyde & Lady Summers: WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, YOU PIECE OF TRASH??? YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH IT! Utterson: *comforting Lanyon* Lanyon: I love you guys.

--

Lady Summers, on the phone: Mr. Hyde, please, I'm trying to talk to my father-in-law! Greetings, Milord. Hyde: *making fake sexual noises* Utterson: Edward! Lord Summers, on the other end of the line: What's going on back there, Luise? Lady Summers: Just an exuberant, young client in heat, molesting one of my older clients. Block him out. Hyde: HEY!!! Utterson: *blushes and facepalms*

--

Utterson: I never lie. Hyde: You just did. Utterson: It's not a lie, if it's obvious sarcasm.

--

Jekyll's letter to Lanyon: Listen, I know we're not best pals anymore, but you need to do something really crazy, because I'm in huge trouble. Lanyon, after reading it: He's nuts. Lanyon: But I'll do it anyway, even though we're not best pals anymore, because he asked for my help and because that's what friends do.

--

Jekyll: I'm so lazy. Utterson: Don't you dare. Jekyll: I can't do anything right. Hyde: SHUT UP!!! Jekyll: I'm just not good enough. Lanyon: I'M GOING TO PUNCH YOU WITH FRIENDSHIP!!!

--

Jekyll & Hyde, pointing at Utterson: That's our emotional support lawyer. Lanyon, gesturing at Lady Summers: That's my emotional support Prussian. Lady Summers, gesturing at the 3 gentlemen plus Hyde: Those are my emotional support clients. 

--

Hyde: I'm not a cat! Jekyll, fondly: Of course not. *scratches Hyde's head* Hyde: *purrs*

--

*in the afterlife* Hyde: … Huh. Doesn't look like hell to me. Jekyll: It isn't. Apparently we have a place in neither heaven nor hell, because only complete souls are allowed. We're supposed to go to some kind of limbo. This place here is just the gateway to the beyond. Hyde: And why are you here? Why did you not go ahead? Jekyll: I was waiting for you. Hyde: Oh. *awkward silence* Jekyll: *clears throat* So you did it, Edward. Hyde: Yeah. This is all your fault. Jekyll: *sighs* I know. I'm sorry. For everything. Hyde: … Jekyll: Wanna make up like real soulmates? Hyde: Sure. Both: *hugging and crying*

--

*what they say* Jekyll: I hate you! Hyde: I hate you more! *what they mean* Jekyll: I love you so much! Hyde: I can't live without you!

--

Hyde, to Lady Summers: How many weapons do you even carry around? It seems like you always have one. Lady Summers: Oh, that's a good question. Hang on for a moment. Lady Summers: *removes several knives from her sleeves, a poisoned dart from her glove, daggers from the folds of her dress, a gun from her hat, her hair needles and hat pins, her umbrella and her sword cane and puts it all on the table* Lady Summers: That's not all, but I'm not going to undress in front of you to disarm myself completely. Hyde: … Hyde: I'm scared.

--

Hyde, about Lady Summers: I wonder what her Ladyship is like, when she's angry. Lanyon: Your worst nightmare. Hyde: She doesn't need to be angry for that. Her cane and umbrella are enough to give me nightmares. Lanyon, thinking: Jackpot.

[journalxxx]

Entropy Balance (1)

"All right, I'm gonna have to ask you to stop doing that." Maxwell blinked, suddenly yanked out of his reverie. Wilson was side-eyeing him with that inane hostility that was usually spurred by Maxwell doing something he didn't trust. Except, this time Maxwell was sure he was doing absolutely nothing other than lying on his straw roll and waiting for sleep to catch up with him. He spread his arms in dismay. "What?" "Staring at me. It's annoying." Wilson turned away and resumed drying his hair, vigorously rubbing a rough cloth on his head. "As if there weren't already enough eyes in the darkness always watching." "I-" Maxwell stopped. He hadn't- he'd been staring, hadn't he? He bit back a string of imaginative curses, but the silence got Wilson's attention anyway. He peeked at Maxwell again, squinting to an almost comical degree. "You're still doing it."

"I'm looking at the fire!" He huffed, gesturing wildly. "The only thing worth looking at, since it's the only source of light. You're standing right beside the fire, I can't not see you. Do you think your feeble sanity can withstand such an atrocious ordeal or do I have to gouge my eyes out for you to feel more comfortable?" "You aren't looking at the fire, you're looking at me. What is it, the scars?" Wilson turned and spread his arms, fully showing his torso. "Fascinating, aren't they? I wonder whose fault it is that I have so many. Look, if you connect these five you get the Libra-" "Oh knock it off, for heaven's sake." Maxwell turned over with a grunt, granting Wilson his precious privacy and forcibly removing the distracting sight from his field of view. "You know, I would love to think you were contemplating and maybe regretting the lasting consequences of your trickery on my health and life, but I fear it would be optimistic to the point of idiocy." Maxwell gritted his teeth, glaring at the complete darkness and shutting his eyes forcefully, as if to scrape the very memory of the image from his retinae. "Goodnight, Higgsbury."

It was a sad truth of life, that no man was ever aware of how valuable a thing was until it was lost. It took Maxwell mere days of his newly-found freedom to remember exactly how overrated and taxing complete humanity was, with all its annoying mental and physical needs. The King of the Constant didn't need to eat or sleep, being sustained and maintained purely by dark forces flowing in the throne. It came at the hefty price of self-determination, freedom of movement, loss of a wide spectrum of emotions and unending, excruciating boredom, but it did have its perks compared to the vexing condition of the average survivor. Rediscovering hunger pains had been a mostly unpleasant experience, although life in the camp was organized enough to never let them get too hindering. Pain, in general, was something Maxwell tried to avoid like the plague, including the annoying soreness of tired muscles that came after a long day of gathering and scavenging. Luckily enough, Wilson and his own puppets were often more than capable of dealing with those tasks themselves, while Maxwell pretended to keep himself busy with lighter work around the base. One issue he truly wasn't expecting, however, was how deeply distracting close-quarter coexistence with Wilson could turn out to be, especially when it came to mundane chores like bathing and grooming. It was nothing new, in truth. Maxwell had spent months observing Wilson's antics from the throne, delighted and thoroughly entertained by his struggles and misadventures. He had seen him countless times in different states of undressing, and his mind hadn't dwelled on the fact even for a second. The King's thoughts and actions, after all, were nothing but an extension of the Shadows' will, whose interests reigned supreme and discreetly steered the hands and eyes of Their most valuable puppet in the desired direction. They harbored no interest for beauty or harmony, it would be against Their very nature. But Maxwell... well, he fancied himself a man of taste. Where elegance could be found, in all its possible manifestations, whether in the smart cut of a tailored suit, or in the cunning strategy of a game of chess, or in the red bloom adorning a lady's hair, or in the solid outline of a determined jaw, he would always take a moment to savour it. Wilson P. Higgsbury had no such qualities. The perpetual state of disarray of his hair and clothing was a testament to his lack of style, his self-proclaimed and questionable "science" was more of a pig-headed trial-and-error approach to any given problem rather than a rigorous method, his inexplicable naivety would net him a row of losses in both chess and poker. It wasn't by accident that Maxwell had observed him more carefully than any other survivor, oh no. It was just too amusing to see in how many different ways this ridiculous little man could fail. And yet, ultimately, this ridiculous little man did not fail. He died, oh he did, over and over again. Starved, frozen to death, mauled by the beasts, stomped by tree guardians, driven insane by his own nightmares, swallowed by the darkness, deadly injured by traps. Yet, he always came back, with a touch stone found by sheer luck, or a meticulously crafted amulet, or a creepy statue of flesh. No matter what Maxwell threw at him, this ridiculous little man kept moving forward, through sheer, blundering, inelegant stubborness, until he was facing his very captor in the throne room. And even after that, even after being seized by the dark powers as their new King, it had taken no more than a month for him to regain his freedom to do what he knew best: stumbling forward, with no clear plan or reason. It boggled the mind, and having been bested by such an individual did hurt the former King's pride to some extent, there was no point in denying that. But Maxwell wasn't so petty as to dismiss as completely insignificant what had proved to be a decisive trait of Wilson's character, a trait that had left its marks on his body as well. And once Maxwell's mind had been freed from the numbing grasp of the Shadows, he had found that his eyes naturally tended to...linger. Wilson wasn't an imposing man by any means, almost as thin as Maxwell and much shorter too. But months of hardships had shaped him into a curious specimen of a man, with its own rough but undeniable elegance. He was still very slim, his diet too austere to allow for any real muscle growth, but he was a far cry from the scrawny recluse Maxwell had dragged through the portal. The outline of his muscles under his skin was perfectly visible with each and every movement, every time he bent this or that way or lifted unsuspected weights with little effort. The very shape of his shoulders, the faint furrow along his spine, the small dip of his lower back could drive lesser men to tears, and Maxwell was sure that despite the many small nicks and scars, his skin would feel almost perfectly smooth to the- "What on earth is your problem?" Maxwell winced. Damn it, damn Wilson and himself and the damned Shadows that put them together. "If my presence bothers you so much, why don't you bathe in the eastern pond during the day instead of here at night?" "Because I'd rather not being attacked by frogs, eels, tentacles and whatever horrors you placed in this God-forsaken land, for example. A stupid white carrot followed and screamed at me for an hour while I went there to fill the buckets this afternoon." "How unfortunate. A screaming white carrot, you said?" "Yes, what the hell was it? I've never seen anything like that before. I had to shove it back into the ground to make it stop." "And where, exactly?" "Near the second... you're trying to distract me." Wilson glared at Maxwell, slapping the piece of cloth in the bucket with a small splash. "Look, I'm not an idiot-" "Debatable, but go on." "Maxwell." Wilson turned to face him fully, his expression suddenly very serious and his tone lower. "Do you really think I haven't noticed?" Ah, he had finally mustered the gall for a direct approach. This could likely take a very bad turn, but the temptation to meet Wilson's challenge head-on was too strong, consequences be damned. Maxwell closed the Codex, which he had been reading- been trying to read since the scientist had started his usual ablutions. He stood up and went to sit near the fire, on the same log as Wilson, so close that their arms almost touched. He took a long, slow drag on his cigar, savouring it, letting the smoky shadow permeate his lungs, and he looked, blatantly and leisurely. He looked at the untamable tangle of hair crowning Wilson's head, sticking every which way in a half-dried mess. He considered the sharp angle of his jaw, adorned with that rough stubble just at the right length to suit Maxwell's taste, seeing as he looked like a ridiculous prepubescent altar boy when clean-shaven, and like a veritable caveman when the beard grew bushier. He observed his chest, pleasantly proportionate and without an ounce of fat, peppered with roughly-healed scars that interrupted the even distribution of hair, just as abundant as on his face. His gaze dropped languidly lower, following its soft, dark trail until it disappeared under the hem of Wilson's trousers. Then he finally looked up, straight in the scientist's disconcerted eyes, and exhaled fully, lazily, coils of shadows lapping at Wilson's face. "Noticed what, if I may ask?" Wilson's reaction was priceless. He jumped on his feet as if he had been bitten by a snake, eyes fixed on Maxwell as his hand fumbled around blindly for his shirt. He hastily put it on, his face red and scrunched in upset. "Is there a single shred of morality in you that isn't irredeemably twisted?" "I'm afraid not." Old habits died hard, and poking at Wilson's flimsy mental balance was just as entertaining as ever, no matter the circumstances. Maxwell smiled amicably, supporting his chin on his fist. "I take that the notion distresses you." "You- you...!" Wilson's fists were clenched against his sides, his face a mask of sheer rage. He was a temperamental man, after all. As soon as he had learnt of Maxwell's betrayal, he had immediately flung himself at his shadow projection, uselessly trying tackle him to the ground. He had tried to attack him in the throne room, too, nearly getting himself incinerated along with his weapon by the protective spells. There had been nothing to protect Maxwell from his next outburst, when they had casually met in the Constant later on, and he could still remember the remarkable bruise Wilson's knuckles had left on his cheekbone for the following days. He wasn't looking forward to another scuffle, but he'd be damned before he let himself get intimidated by Wilson. "Cat got your tongue?" He kept smiling, unperturbed. "I hadn't figured you for such a prude, you know." "You- It's not- This is enough!" Wilson burst out, abruptly pacing in front of the fire, arms flailing about like a lunatic. "This is enough! There is only so much I can tolerate, and I'm already well past my limit." He fetched his backpack, emptied it, and started shoving random materials in it. Flint, logs, stones, a handful of carrots, some charcoal. He then threw it at Maxwell, who barely dodged the sharp stick that flew toward his forehead afterwards. "Here are some supplies and a torch. Take them and get out of my sight. You aren't welcome in this camp anymore." Maxwell blinked, then looked at the backpack. He blinked again, then looked again at Wilson. He seemed positively murderous, his words were as stern as they could be, and this was a very tense and delicate moment, but Maxwell just couldn't do it. He tried to remain serious and answer with equal poignancy, maybe even putting up some pretense of rightful disdain, but he just couldn't. He snorted and covered his face, but he couldn't hold back the roaring laughter that erupted from his belly and shook his whole body. "Really, pal? You're willing to cooperate and gloss over the fact that I trapped you here, unleashed hellish horrors upon you countless times, and ultimately confined you to the clutches of the throne in exchange for my own freedom, but this is the dealbreaker? The worst and most unforgivable sin, peeping at a man having a bath one foot away from me?" He snorted again and wiped a small tear from his eye, genuinely out of breath from the laughter. "How very anticlimactic." "It's not about this, trust me. This is just the last straw in the largest hay pile of history!" Wilson went on, glaring daggers at him. "You have no notion of decency or respect! I welcome you in my camp, I share my supplies, I deal with the heaviest tasks, I bear with your complete lack of remorse and your unsufferable jabs, and you don't even care! You keep acting as if you're doing me a favor by staying here! I genuinely can't tell if you actually think you'd have no trouble surviving on your own, or if you just enjoy torturing me in any conceivable way. Well, I am done with this. I am done with you. If you can't even bother to respect my privacy and insist on treating me like a- a plaything to satisfy your every sick whim, then I can't be bothered to care about your wellbeing. Grab your things and leave, Maxwell." That was genuinely impressive, he had to admit it. It wasn't like Maxwell had expected their shaky, reluctant alliance to last more than few months in the first place, but he hadn't foreseen such a peculiar conclusion. "I've gotta hand it to you, pal, you really-" "Shut up." Wilson cut him off abruptly. His eyes had grown tired, but steely. "I said enough. Get lost and don't show your face around here again." "...Very well." Apparently playtime was over. Maxwell dispelled the shadow cigar, stood up, shook off some dust from his suit and grabbed Wilson's generous handout. He graced his former partner with a single glance, waiving mockingly at him. "So long, Higgsbury." He lit his torch and ventured into the darkness.

Maxwell woke at dawn, having unfortunately fallen asleep facing exactly the direction of the rising sun. He wondered for a moment about the empty view of the wilderness, with the noticeable absence of the chests, assorted structures, organized bushes and scattered tools that adorned the camp, before remembering he did not have a camp anymore. He groaned, annoyed at the perspective of the whole lot of work his new situation would involve, and turned on his side to catch a few more minutes of sleep. He found himself looking at Wilson, idly sitting near the embers of his dying fire. They blinked at each other for a moment. "Say pal, I think you may have gotten lost. Your camp is further up north." Wilson sighed. He looked like he hadn't slept much, if at all. He tiredly rummaged in his backpack and pulled out a small envelope, putting it down near Maxwell's head. "I brought some breakfast." Maxwell sat up, but he didn't take the envelope. It wasn't very surprising that Wilson had found him, seeing as Maxwell hadn't felt like covering much ground in the darkness and he had set a small campfire relatively close to Wilson's base, but his presence was puzzling in itself. He eyed the other man quizzically. "The decision I made last night was... a bit rushed. I shouldn't have kicked you out like that, out of the blue. In the middle of the night, of all times. Especially since we haven't secured any touchstones or amulets since-" "I can't believe it. You actually came here to apologize." Maxwell groaned in dismay, covering his face with his hands. "And here I thought you had finally grown a pair." "Would you mind not being an absolute tool for one minute and letting me talk?" "Yes, I would. This is pitiful. You're pitiful. Can't you even hold a grudge for a whole night before giving in to whatever misguided sense of guilt led you here to bribe me back to the camp? With..." He picked up the envelope and peered into it. "Honey nuggets, apparently. How charming." "Shut up. I'm not here to apologize. I've had every reason to want to get rid of you since we met, and I still do." Wilson glared at him, wringing his hands in irritation. "But not like that. In my defense, I can say that I've been a bit stressed lately, and... maybe I wasn't exactly in my right mind yesterday." "Are you ever?" "Maxwell, shut up." Maxwell condescendingly bit a nugget. "It's- it's just that... ugh!" Wilson suddenly threw his hands to the sky and ruffled his own hair in frustration. "It makes literally no sense for us to even discuss this! Surviving together is the best option, it's undeniable! As a pair, we consume less resources, we forage more efficiently, we can defend ourselves better against any attacks, we rest more and more safely. Parting ways would give us no advantage whatsoever. Yet, somehow you make it seem like the most preferable option." He stopped, waiting for Maxwell's reply, but he kept casually nibbling at his meal. After a moment, Wilson continued. "So. Since it is clearly the most rational choice, I'm here to tell you to come back to the camp. Does this qualify as apologizing? No, because as far as I'm concerned, you'd deserve to be slain by your own hounds a hundred times over for everything you've put me through since you first spoke to me. Does that mean you can waltz back in your tent and keep treating me like a doormat all day? Also no, because I'm tired of you pretending that my help is irrelevant. You can't possibly be that stupid, and you have no regard for other people's life. If you were convinced you could easily survive on your own, you'd have left a long time ago. Probably after killing me and stealing my stuff." "My, someone's cranky today." Maxwell had finished his breakfast and had summoned his usual shadow cigar. Wilson eyed it with mild disgust, probably remembering the previous night, and Maxwell at least had the decency to blow the smoke well away from his face. He scratched his chin and considered Wilson's word for a minute. "...You do have a point about the benefits of working together. I guess I may have not been on my best behavior lately, but that can be easily remedied. Any more ground rules I should be aware of, sir?" "Yes. No more..." Wilson gestured awkwardly between them, pointing at his eyes, then at Maxwell's, then at his own again. It took Maxwell some considerable guesswork to understand that he was referring to the 'inappropriate' glances. "...That. No more of that. How could you even- do you have no shame at all?" "Oh, please. I still find ridiculous that this is what got you so worked up, on top of everything." "Really? I find ridiculous that you could be so casual about it. I'm sure most people would have had a much less diplomatic reaction than mine to such an appalling behavior."

"Yes, yes, the civilized world is fairly opinionated about such trivial matters, is it not? Good thing we're farther than humanly conceivable from civilization." Maxwell flashed a grin to the other man, who only hunched his back a little more and looked at the charred cinders even more dejectedly. Maxwell couldn't help but grow a bit more somber too. "...Does it really bother you that much?" "I- It's not..." Wilson shook his head. "Not really. Not as a matter of principle, at least. It's not really any of my business. It does bother me, however, if it means I'm constantly scrutinized like some- some tasty morsel, for heaven's sake!" It took all the restraint Maxwell could muster not to make a joke about that vivid choice of words. Meanwhile, Wilson's arms were again flailing about madly, as it was his habit when he grew invested in an argument. "Which I'm actually used to! Every single creature in this hellish place is always looking at me like it wants to devour me! Or slaughter me for fun. Except Chester. So I could deal with that, but no! Turns out you're even more depraved than the worst nightmarish-" "All right, all right, I get it, no more peeping!" Maxwell stopped Wilson's rant when he nearly got poked in the eye by a flying finger. He took one last drag from the cigar before letting it vanish in the faint breeze. "This wretched world offers so few pleasures and respites from the grating task of existence that I didn't even think it would be a problem if I let myself enjoy such a trifling one. But if this offends your pristine sense of decorum so deeply, I'll pass on it. Are you satisfied?" Wilson looked at Maxwell at length, apparently considering his words very seriously. Then he spoke slowly, as if unravelling a fundamental truth born from the deepest reaches of his mind. "You have the uncanny ability to sound always, unrepentantly offensive, no matter what you are actually saying." "I try my best." "Is that why your nose looks like it's been smashed a dozen times?" "Really? You are insulting my features now?" Maxwell scoffed, genuinely disappointed. "Are you willing to stoop that low?" "You said it. There are only so many ways one can entertain himself here." The sunrays had grown fierce, and it seemed it was going to be another torrid summer day. Wilson stood up and stretched with a pained groan. Maxwell wondered how long he'd been sitting at his campfire before he woke up. "Let's go. There's a lot of work to do."

Despite Wilson's poor expectations, there was a noticeable change in Maxwell's behavior. It was less of an actual improvement and more of an ongoing state of haughty sulking, but the complete disappearance of his usual jabs and unhelpful sarcasm on just about anything was honestly a breath of fresh air. Even though they often spent most of their days separately, with Wilson foraging and exploring and Maxwell crafting and cooking in the base, his malicious comments at the end of a hard day's work were more grating than Wilson cared to admit. Since their argument, however, communication between them had turned into a mere exchange of only the strictly necessary information applying the minimum amount of words possible, and Wilson didn't have a single problem with that. A true loner at heart, he'd much rather bask in a quiet atmosphere of mild hostility than constantly having to deflect open and pointless mockery. Maxwell had been surprisingly compliant about Wilson's request for privacy too. He had taken to retire in his tent as soon as Wilson fetched the buckets, or he busied himself with some other activity behind a conveniently placed chest or machine that hid them from each other's view. A small part of Wilson's mind kept reminding him that not seeing Maxwell didn't necessarily imply not being seen by Maxwell, but he'd just have to live with that. In truth, the most shocking aspect of the recent revelation about Maxwell's inclinations had been the man's sheer nerve. Wilson may not harbor any particular disgust or bias towards the likes of Maxwell, but the memory of his obscene display of interest and his blatant disregard of basic social decency still sparked a burning rage in his gut. There was only so much that decades of isolation could excuse, and Wilson was fairly sure that this wasn't part of it. Still, Maxwell's behavior had remained irreproachable since then, if noticeably distant. Since Wilson had been freed from the throne, the Constant had been remarkably peaceful as well. He had met Maxwell in a world of perennial summer with few hostile creatures and relatively rich lands, an unexpected and welcome change from the horrifying regions he had had to cross to reach the King. Days passed with uncharacteristic ease and an almost reassuring sense of routine, allowing them to gather their energies and resources as they looked for the next portal. Then, one day, the hounds reappeared. Wilson's pickaxe froze in midair as he was about to strike a promising gold vein, and the familiar weight of dread sank in his chest. He had hoped. Foolish as it may be, he had genuinely hoped the peace would last. The mysterious woman who had freed him from the throne was... well, she had seemed at least conflicted about her actions. She had seemed friendly, even cheerful at first... until she had electrocuted him for literally no reason, and that was definitely not reassuring, but Wilson had hoped it was just some blind (and probably deserved) vengeance towards whoever sat on the throne. He had truly hoped she could turn out a more merciful ruler than Maxwell, but a new hound incursion wasn't exactly a benevolent sign. The growls of the foul beasts echoed all around, still distant but unmistakable. He quickly gathered the scattered materials and hurried back towards the base, heart pounding with the increasing volume of the howls. By the time he got to the camp, Maxwell had already donned his armor and sword, and he was placing a bunch of tooth traps outside the wooden fence, flanked by two shadow duelists. He pointed a safe path to Wilson when he saw him. "Go that way. There's new armor and weapons in the bigger chest." Wilson nodded and run past him. In a couple of minutes they were both ready, fully armed, standing in the middle of the camp near the lit firepit. Wilson hated fighting in the base, as usually most of their equipment was damaged by the scuffle, but the sky was already red, and night would likely fall before they managed to defeat the pack. The wait was tense, as always. The guttural roars grew and grew, surrounding them from every direction, causing Wilson to turn over and over again, always expecting the first hound to appear right behind his back. Trenches and palisades were of little use; the beasts always seemed to spawn from darkness itself, regardless of terrain or physical barriers. He almost jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder, in a way that felt all but reassuring. "Steady, Higgsbury. You've survived them plenty of times before." "Yes, when you were the one sending them after-" "Save that for later." The first trap snapped loudly, followed by a pained howl. Then the horde came. In few seconds the camp was a flurry of movement and noise, where black, fanged creatures rushed in one after another. Wilson fought almost without thinking, striking and dodging with learnt timing and experience, luring two or three hounds in a favorable spot before attacking them one by one. He caught a glimpse of the duelists holding their ground with equal skill, while Maxwell remained at the edge of the camp, somehow managing not to engage in direct fight, but readily finishing the wounded hounds that were trying to escape. It was a strange, long attack, Wilson noticed. The corpses of the hounds kept piling up on the ground, and Wilson couldn't help but think that if they had all attacked together in a single swarm, they could have easily overpowered both Maxwell and him. Instead, the beasts kept trickling in the camp slowly, as if someone was releasing them gradually. It was completely dark by the time the last wounded beast tried to run from Wilson's lance. He didn't even need to chase it as it limped slowly towards the darkness, until it fell heavily on the ground just at the edge of the circle of light granted by the firepit, wheezing loudly and pitifully. Maxwell approached it too, and they both stood before the agonizing beast for a moment. Under the dim light and the two men's wavering shadows, it almost looked like a normal boar, one of the many Wilson had seen his father hunt in his youth. He had never been quite fond of the sport. Maxwell knelt down, his free hand reaching out towards the animal. As soon as he did, the hound reared its ugly head with a roar and snapped at him, still trying to bite and shred and maul and kill even as it was bleeding to death. "How quickly they forget..." Maxwell sounded almost wistful, a somewhat unfitting note in his voice. It made some sort of perverted sense that the one thing capable of inspiring sympathy in him would be a creature just as ferocious and devious as its creator. "Do you think they could be domesticated?" "No." He stood up as one of the duelists moved forward. Its blade rose in the air and swiftly fell down with a sharp hiss. The whimpering immediately stopped. "I made sure of that." Wilson thought of himself as of a merciful man, but he did not feel pity for the creature's destiny. The hounds were no normal animals, they had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. They either died or kept attacking, over and over again, retreating into the shadows only to reappear from a different spot few seconds later, ready to strike anew. They were self-destructing weapons through and through, and he had had to learn to treat them as such. "I think we can wait until tomorrow to collect their meat. We're going to be up all night if we start now." "Indeed. The camp also needs to be-" Maxwell stopped and looked around. "What is that?" A faint melody echoed in the air, seemingly from all directions. It was a simple, sweet tune, produced by pins or bells tingling in harmony. It reminded Wilson of a small music box he once gifted to one of his nieces. "The fire!" Maxwell suddenly shouted, pointing at the camp. Clearly visible despite the distance, a slithering claw of shadows was snaking towards the pit, black as ink and disturbingly real. They sprang towards it, but it was too late. Its fingers wrapped around the embers and squashed them in a puff of smoke, the whole area sinking in complete darkness. Almost immediately, Wilson tripped on something invisible, falling sideways and knocking down Maxwell in the process. "Goddammit! Do you have a torch?" "Yes, give me a-" A far too familiar sound rumbled around them. The Grue attacked even more quickly than usual, and Wilson could hear the telltale swoosh of Maxwell's puppets vanishing into nothingness. He cursed, rummaging desperately under his armor. He got the torch, but he couldn't find the flint to ignite it. He sensed Maxwell raising to his feet beside him. "Where are you going?" He hissed. "The torch! Hurry!" It was the only reply he got. Wilson's hand finally stumbled into a piece of flint, but he couldn't do much with just one. He kept searching as his heart drummed frantically in his chest, counting the seconds before the next attack, the one that would likely cost them their lives. "Cheap trick!" He heard Maxwell declare, for no discernible reason at all. If trying to communicate with the Grue was foolish, provoking it was positively suicidal. "Way beneath you, if I may speak freely." The darkness hummed and whispered threateningly as Wilson found the second flint. He muttered to himself feverishly as he stroke them together, blindly trying to direct the sparks to the tip of the torch. "Charlie...?" He almost didn't hear it. Maxwell's voice was completely different, his challenging bravado vanished in less than a second and replaced by some sort of stunned awe. Right then, the torch finally lit. Wilson had never seen the Grue. On multiple occasions, he had managed to light torches or firepits in the very nick on time, when he was almost sure the creature was literally within arm's reach and ready to strike. Yet, no matter how close he perceived it, when light appeared, it was gone without a trace. He had never caught even a glimpse of a limb, or the trace of a swift movement in the corner of his eye. It seemed to instantly stop existing as soon as it could be seen. This time, Wilson saw something. For a split second, the light revealed a thin, tall, dark silhouette, all sharp angles and pointy appendages. It had no features, no details, no depth. It looked like the drawing of a child on a piece of paper, some sort of bidimensional, disturbing scarecrow made entirely of black ink. In his enormous claw, it held Maxwell's chin, a look of sheer bewilderment etched on the man's features. Then Wilson blinked, and it was gone. He heard a sharp slash, and Maxwell let out a short scream, bringing a hand to his face. "Maxwell!" Wilson scrambled to his feet and approached him. There was blood trickling down his face, tainting the collar of his immaculate shirt with red stains. "Are you all right?" "Yes." Maxwell glanced around nervously. WIlson tried to get a good look at the wound, but Maxwell waved him away, still keeping his hand pressed against it. He seemed more preoccupied with staring at random points in the darkness, looking more disturbed than Wilson had ever seen him. "Did it attack you after I got the light out? Can it do that?" "Oh, that wasn't an attack." Maxwell finally removed his hand, and Wilson could see three long gashes, unnaturaly vertical and parallel, running straight from his temple to his jaw. His eye was undamaged, fortunately. Maxwell stared thoughtfully at his own hand, shrouded by shadows and turned into a claw that was not too dissimilar from the Grue's. The blood glinted eerily on the blackened palm. "She was just saying hello." It took Wilson a moment to process that. "...She?" Maxwell surveyed the area one last time. All was still and silent. "We should sleep. There won't be any more surprises for tonight." Wilson couldn't get another word out of him.

"I shouldn't be doing this." Maxwell muttered, dragging his feet behind Wilson and glaring at each and every surrounding tree as if it had personally offended him. "I'm wounded." "Don't be dramatic. You barely needed any stitches." "Which, by the way, were the most painful experience I've had since I got here. I thought you were supposed to be a doctor." "I am, but I stopped practicing pretty soon after I finished my studies. I was more interested in pursuing my own research." Wilson spotted a group of tall, sturdy-looking pines that would likely yield perfect boards. He walked up to them, gesturing to Maxwell to follow him. "Although I've had plenty of experience with self-medication in the last two years. Did you choose to kidnap me because you knew I had the necessary skills to survive?" "Don't flatter yourself too much. I chose you because you were gullible enough to believe me. End of the story." "Of course you did." Wilson examined the trees carefully, checking the bark for holes, fungi or insects. Several chests and machines had been damaged during the hound incursion of the previous night, and Wilson wasn't going to sleep soundly until all of his equipment was back in top shape. "I think five or six of these should give us enough materials for the repairs. Three trees each, all right?" "You're going to finish much earlier than me. In fact, you probably don't need me at all here." "I helped you clean and store the meat-"

"Which I didn't ask-"

"-because it was already half spoilt and you would have taken too long on your own, so it's only fair that you help me with the wood. And you said you weren't going to summon any puppets today, so..." "I'm running short on fuel and I'd rather save it for emergencies until I can find some more." "Really? And here I thought that your sense of humor was the only inexhaustible source of nightmare fuel in the whole Constant." "Speaking of which, please leave the scathing jabs to me. That was appalling." They started hacking away. Despite Wilson's initial despondency towards the ungodly amount of manual labor required to survive in the Constant, he had slowly grown to like the calm and repetitiveness of most manual tasks. When he wasn't too hard-pressed by severe lack of food or basic resources, he had found that foraging from an ordered field of berry bushes, turning a twisted, dying tree into a neat pile of perfectly serviceable logs, or sewing together a simple but efficient trap could often soothe his nerves better than a few roasted mushroom. It certainly beated ripping legs off spiders or fending off herds of horny beefalos. On the other hand, Maxwell seemed to nurture a strong distaste for any activity that required him to leave the camp. Wilson couldn't really blame him for that: it was obvious that his age and his relatively frail constitution didn't play to his advantage, even though Maxwell wasn't likely to ever admit it. In truth, Wilson didn't mind their current division of labor: Maxwell had proved to be a surprisingly apt artisan, especially in regards to small objects like traps or compasses. Wilson had found himself staring at the other man crafting this or that piece equipment more than once, admiring how nimble and precise his fingers were, very suited to precision work. He was a better cook than Wilson too, although that wasn't saying much: the scientist approached most of his culinary endeavors like his science, via methodic trials and errors spurred mostly by pure curiosity that often resulted in barely palatable wet goops. It turned out it took Maxwell exactly twice as much time as Wilson to fell a tree, his first victim hitting the ground just as Wilson started peeling the branches from his second. He could tell by the exaggerated movements Maxwell was making to swing the axe that he was going to get a mean backache by the end of the task. He innerly debated on whether he should offer his advice on the matter. The debate ended fairly quickly and unanimously. "I was wondering." Wilson addressed Maxwell casually as he was binding some sticks together in a fagot. "What happened exactly with the Grue last night?" Maxwell stopped, glaring at the scientist and resting his weight on the axe for a moment as he caught his breath. Wilson pressed on. "It didn't attack you, even though it took me a while to get the torch. Had I been alone, I'd have been slaughtered in all that time. Not to mention that you addressed it as a 'she' and-" "Oh excuse me, if I had known we got here to picnic and chat, I'd have brought a few sandwiches. Who knows what gave me the idea that we had work to do." Wilson groaned. "Come on, Maxwell. There's no need for you to hide anything, we're on the same boat. If anything, I should be the one worrying about whether or not I can trust you. And you aren't exactly making me less paranoid by skirting around the subject." "I don't see how that's my problem." Maxwell straightened up and lifted his axe again. "Do you want to get this wood before dusk or what?" Wilson sighed and decided to abandon the subject for the time being. They raised their axes and hit a new tree at the same time, the sharp snaps of metal on wood echoing around with perfect synchrony. Then they froze, as a thunderous roar resounded far too close for comfort. Horrified, they both looked towards the source of the noise. Above the greenery, they could spot one specific treetop wobbling slightly, while slow, rhythmic thumps made the ground shake beneath their feet. "...Oh no." Wilson looked at Maxwell, who was standing stock still and slack-jawed with his axe still raised. "Are you kidding me?" He burst out, gesticulating towards the humongous creature, the very personification of affronted bewilderment. "I leave the camp for one day and this happens? What in the everloving hell is this wrong with this goddamn-" "Do you have any pinecones?" Wilson stopped listening after the third swear, deeming Maxwell's questions mostly rhetorical. He frantically surveyed the area trying to spot the precious items, but he couldn't see any. "No! I've barely done anything-" Another bellow boomed in the air, slightly louder than the previous one. The treetop was getting dangerously close, so they did the only sensible thing they could do: they started running. They got outside the forest fairly quickly. From the clearing between the woods and the camp, they could see the Treeguard slowly making its way among the foliage, somehow leaving no damaged plants in its wake. "Thank God they're so slow." "You're welcome. You know, I think it's angry with you, specifically." Maxwell declared, suddenly calmer. "You can't possibly know that." "I certainly can, I made them." They exchanged a glance, and bolted in opposite directions. Once they had put some distance between them, they stopped and checked on their sluggish foe. After a moment, the guardian veered clearly towards Wilson's position. "Oh, come on!" Wilson's disappointed exclamation was met by a triumphant "Ha!" coming from the opposite side of the clearing. He glared at Maxwell, who immediately dashed towards the base. Unhelpful bastard. Wilson did the same, but Maxwell yelled at him. "Wait! Don't lead it here, you idiot! It'll destroy everything!" "I have no pinecones! I need the ones in the chest!" "I'll have a puppet bring them to you. I don't want to be anywhere near that thing." "What do I do in the meantime?" "I don't know! Outrun it! It isn't exactly fast." Wilson almost slapped his own face out of sheer frustration. Great, just great. Just the kind of afternoon he needed to recover from the stress of the attack, one spent shouting like an idiot to another idiot from the opposite side of a field and playing tag with a huge, angry, screaming tree. He spent the following five minutes jogging around like a complete fool without letting the Treeguard get too close, until finally Maxwell's puppet arrived, delivering a grand total of three pinecones and a shovel. "That's it? Is that all we've got?" He asked in dismay. The puppet shrugged, then pointed to the forest and made a wide gesture that Wilson interpreted as an explosion. Aaah, right, the forest. The latest heatwave had caused a fire, and they had had to regrow the whole forest from scratch. They had kept only three pinecones in case of emergency, which Wilson supposed was exactly the present case. The puppet gave him a thumbs up and scampered away. It was always surprising how much more sociable and cooperative Maxwell's shadows were compared to the original, especially considering their limited expressivity. Wilson actually missed their company when they didn't help with the foraging. All right, three attempts then. And within a reasonably short time, given that the sun was already descending below the horizon. Of course these things had to happen always at dusk. He quickly dug a tiny hole and got ready to place the pinecone in it as soon as he was within the monster's sight. The first attempt was a failure. Of course the first attempt had to be a failure, God forbid luck might favor him in time of need, for once. He resolved to let the Treeguard approach him a bit more before trying again. The second attempt was another miss. Of course the second attempt couldn't just work that easily, that would deny him the thrill of the last chance, the primal dread of being this close to impending, unavoidable doom, something that the forces inhabiting the Constant seemed keen on providing over and over again. Remaining cool and collected despite the tension and the frustration was absolutely imperative in such circumstances. "Come on, you short-sighted stump!" Wilson raged, stomping his foot and waving around the last remaining pinecone. "Do I have to sow a whole forest to make you happy?" The Treeguard didn't react in any noticeable way, other than continuing the slowest pursuit in the hystory of vaguely threatening strolls. Wilson scratched his head and cursed. It was almost dark, and he only had one pinecone. He really didn't feel like running around the whole night like a headless chicken hoping to accidentally trip on another pinecone, so he'd have to make the last one count. That meant getting very close, literally in the creature's piney face, and hope for the best. While the Treeguard approached him, he dug several holes to his left and right, ready to welcome the precious cluster of seeds, then he waited. He waited as the huge pine got close, very close, unadvisably close, definitely way too close. He stood in place when the horrendous creature bellowed from above and swung a giant branch at him. He sprang to the side and dodged it, barely. It crashed to the ground with an unimaginable rumble, but Wilson paid it no mind. The tree roared again, Maxwell was shouting too from somewhere not too far, but Wilson's attention was fully focussed on the closest hole. He crawled to it as the Treeguard slowly lifted his arm, he dropped the pinecone on the ground and swiftly covered it with a small mound of soil. "See? Done! I've-" He barely had time to raise his head, and all he could see was a huge flurry of greenery filling his entire field of view. The tremendous impact knocked him out instantly.

[thecandywrites]

The Pink Panther

So this story is again, inspired from a crazy dream I had and again, like a woman possessed I JUST HAD TO WRITE IT. all my other wips and commissions be damned and just staring at my compulsary working on this going ‘uh, excuse me? Hello? You didn’t forget about us right? Right?!” and me going ‘but crazy idea that will drive me mad if I don’t get out of my head!’ in the same tone Hulk said ‘big monster!’ to Thor when Thor told him not to smash. And it’s a break from...well, everything I usually write. You see this is what you get when you watch count of Monte Cristo AND The Pink Panther from the 60′s. THAT PINK PANTHER and all those period dramas *cough* Harlots on Hulu *cough*. You get a nightmare fart of a story from three things that probably shouldn’t ever be crossed over. So I just need this out of my system so I can FOCUS on the other things and it was a really fun dream. Dashing lords in disguise, huge gems, a foul plot afoot and the promise of fortune greater than your wildest dreams. It’s fine it’s fine. 

Vidame Emilia Bellim sat in the back of her carriage with her best friend who just happened to also be her childhood friend and chaperon Fredrick as they rode to a strange palace in a remote area of Europe. Emily’s title and prestige meant that Emily was respected and sought after by nobles all over Europe, thinking that there was a great fortune behind her to be won when Emily’s adopted grandmother who was in poor health would pass and Emily had just gotten done being hosted by such a noble for such a purpose. While Fredrick on the other hand, his father was a scientist. One of the best but was eccentric, becoming at risk of being enemies of the state with his rantings. And while there was no romance between them, they were closer than siblings and the best of friends with Fredrick and his father living with Emily and her grandmother at Emily’s estate and Fredrick acting as her chaperon to make sure the nobles behaved themselves and only acted in the most gentlemanly like ways towards her and that Emily and her reputation would be protected at all times and that she would stay well above reproach.  

“So where exactly are we going?” Freddy asked after a while of traveling on the well traveled road.  

“To Count Sparta’s estate, his eldest son has been deemed eligible for marriage now and I am one of the few deemed worthy of being considered a prospect for him, apparently.” Emily answered sarcastically before Freddy snorted a laugh as his smile grew fond.

“My grandmother got a letter from Count Sparta himself and she promptly sent the carriage and another letter with it and sent me to go to this place. The first letter makes no sense, I’ve read it repeatedly and nothing makes sense. It’s like one of her many riddles.” Emily groused as she handed the letters over to Freddy to look over in the light of the lantern in the carriage next to him. Freddy frowned as he read them and tried to make sense of them too. He read them over twice and even to him it didn’t make a bit of sense. So he simply handed them back with a shrug before looking back out over the darkening landscape. When they stopped at an inn, they simply took a single room as Freddy helped Emily undress before the two crawled in bed together and cuddled close.

“I will always prefer to sleep with you more than anyone else.” Emily sighed contentedly with her head resting over his chest.

“Only because you know I’ll never grope you or worse.” Freddy teased.

“Precisely.” Emily smiled before she rolled over so that he spooned her and wrapped his arms around her waist before the two promptly fell asleep. After a long three days of travel on the road and staying at another inn only a few short hours away from Count Sparta’s estate the day before the letter demanded they arrive, they rested for the night, in the morning, Freddy helped Emily get ready into a new gown her grandmother sent her and helped her with her hair and makeup. Freddy always could make her look ravishing so that every other man seemed to fall in love with her with just a look at her and in return Emily got Freddy ready, making him look dashingly handsome. Her grandmother sent Freddy some new clothes as well so that he looked like a proper dandy and the two looked like a pair in matching peacock teal which did wonders for Emily’s fair complexion and natural dark red hair, something of a novelty all the nobles sought after but it was something she didn’t let get to her head so to speak, if anything it only empowered her to resist their advances and to be as picky as she wished about who she would keep company with and had rules about her person that most ladies in her status and circumstance could only dream of demanding but it was because of who was backing her that no one dared question it. Her adopted grandmother was a  grand duchess and was related to the royal families, some kind of great aunt who’s power and influence was great and whose fortune was famed to be unusually large and supposedly independent than that of the royal family and their monarchies, she had a fierce reputation for being a perfectionist in not just her home or her clothing but of others and had had no natural children of her own. And how Emilia got to be her grand daughter was something of a mystery but never questioned and that once the grand duchess named Emilia her only rightful heir, it was simply accepted as much and her adopted grandmother groomed Emilia to be practically perfect and poured all of her resources into Emilia’s education and talents to make Emilia the ideal in all things. Frustrating for a small child but as Emilia got older, she realized the value in such hard work since it now garnered her something priceless, respect wherever she went.

When they arrived at the sprawling and luxurious estate, their host did not greet them, instead the steward and his assistants did and Emily greeted them in graciousness and with the utmost respect in turn and soon realized she was in the company of some of the more keen minds but with checkered pasts and wild reputations of Europe’s elite and she felt right at home in such company for some reason and soon Freddy left her side as the two quickly gathered as much information from the other guests as they could as to why they were there. All of the other guests had gotten similar, perplexing letters as they soon began sharing them, Freddy and Emily quickly and easily memorizing the other’s letters as they gathered that the other guests were there for the same objective but varied incentives and motivations, a few felt they were being blackmailed to come here since their daughters were part of the pool of approved nobility that most royal princes would use to pick out a future queen out of. Others thought it was intrigue while most just thought it was harmless fun and a game as everyone was with a daughter of marrying age and knew that the estate had two sons of marrying age and all the letters mentioned the eldest and his quest to find a bride which is why Emily found herself surrounded by over a dozen of the most eligible ladies, dressed in gowns just as grand, if not more so than her own before they were seated for dinner. But again, their host did not join them, instead the steward and his assistants led the meal. Which was beyond delicious and Freddy and Emily happily gorged themselves. Not having had a good, decent meal in the last few days it took for them to get there.

“How do you like the meal Lady Bellim?” Rolf, the steward’s lead attendant inquired of her as he refilled her wine glass for her, having heard that her tastes were on par with royalty when it came to excellence and refinement.  

“Quite excellent, I’m very impressed, the variety of seasonings used is impressive, the techniques are a wonderful blend of the tried and true and new. I have yet to have an off mouthful. The cooks and all those tasked with helping to prepare this feast are to be commended, truly.” Emily praised genuinely as Rolf smiled proudly.

“Do you not think that the pigeon is over-spiced?” Viscountess Lucretia asked as she couldn’t help but cough as her eyes watered and she fanned herself and tried to cleanse her palette with more wine.

“No, not at all, I detect a wide variety of spice, particularly saffron, turmeric, chili pepper, coriander and cumin, is this your first time trying anything with any of those? Most feel the smallest fraction is too much because of how intense they can be, especially chili pepper.” Emily returned from her place across from Lucretia.

“That must be it then, I do not care for it at all.” She made a disgusted face before downing the rest of her wine before another attendant came and refilled her glass.

“You are from the mountain range of Italy are you not? There are herbs that grow in the mountains which are quite fine and should be just as esteemed as the silk road spices. Perhaps you would prefer the meal if it had more of those in it.” Emily pointed out and the Viscountess smiled appreciatively.

“Yes. Very much so, I have heard that you are very well traveled and prefer the silk road spices, no doubt why you were able to distinguish them so easily.” Lucretia returned fondly, appreciating Emily’s respectful esteem and making it so that her beloved herbs were equal to the famed silk road spices which was a compliment she greatly admired and appreciated.

“I appreciate all spices, no matter their origin, as long as they are used well.” Emily grinned as she continued to eat and thoroughly enjoyed the meal, trying some of every dish.  

“Now where does the title Vidame come from or mean? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of it before.” Lucretia asked Emily curiously who smiled appreciatively as she wiped her mouth and cleared her mouth so that she could speak clearly.

“It is a title awarded by His Holiness the Pope himself, it was given to my father for commanding the Pope’s army and Bishop’s forces- not just in the Vatican but all over the Holy Empire. I inherited the title when my father passed since I am the only child of my parents and while I’m not expected to perform my late father’s duties, I enjoy the doting from His Holiness as perhaps any beloved grandchild would from a grandfather. In fact this cross is a gift from him for my birthday a few years back since my birthday falls in the Holy Week. I spend every birthday with His Holiness at the Vatican.” Emily boasted as she gestured to the outrageously gaudy cross that was encrusted with jewels that weighed heavily on her chest as all the other families gasped softly as they realized they should have risked breaking the rules and brought their sons to try to woo her too even though it was expressed that only chaperons, guardians and fathers be allowed to come to keep Lord Sparta from having to compete for any lady’s attention. But to have the Pope’s blessing was invaluable, no wonder she could go wherever she wished in the Holy Empire and beyond without a problem or could demand that no one touch her or invade her personal space because she had the pope’s backing and protection. They had all heard how the last poor soul who tried not only got stripped of all his lands and holdings by the king as demanded by the Pope, but excommunicated and promptly killed himself for the shame he brought on himself. So to be Vidame by the pope and future Grand Duchess when her grandmother would pass, would be a double honor to add to any family tree.

After the meal the guests were invited to roam the estate for one hour as they pleased without hindrance because all the staff from the estate would gather in the dining room for that hour and Freddy and Emily combed over every bit of it they could, Freddy going to the upper floors while Emily searched the lower ones, trying to find the basement and found a tunnel, shut by a metal door and once she used the key her grandmother sent her- she opened it and wandered inside before it suddenly flashed flame and she dove to the ground as a flame lit up the roof of the cave but only for a brief moment, barely a second or two. When the flame was gone, she stood up and wiped the dirt off her gown and noticed that the walls and ceiling were covered in black soot and that the ground had become like soft but charred saw dust, with dead beetle corpses blowing in an unearthly breeze within the tunnel. Her letter from her grandmother had said ‘go where death is certain to achieve the best life’ and now that sentiment suddenly made sense. Count Sparta was rumored to have unlimited funds, from family lines from all over Europe that even the kings of such lands drooled over and that if any king dare oppose the Spartas, that they would simply move to a new sprawling estate in another country, bringing their wealth with them and leaving the monarchs of said country financially devastated because of a lack of tax revenue that the Spartas would pay and that in return for Sparta’s patronage, the Spartas were granted not just lands but titles galore in every country they took up residence in. But only the father was known to only the royal families and rarely socialized outside of the King’s private court where he was considered a royal adviser- so his face was relatively unknown. His sons were even bigger mysteries, the only people to talk about them were the scholars who came from all over Europe to educate them for a small time until they passed all pertinent knowledge over then they sent away with more wealth than they could hope to use in a lifetime. Perhaps all that wealth was hidden down here. She knew her hour was coming to an end and knew that at the end of the hour, wherever the guests would be, they would be locked there for the night, their own rooms being the only “safe” spaces there were. She quickly gathered her skirts and made a run for her room that she would be sharing with Freddy, passing all the other guests who were leisurely going to their own rooms. Not thinking there was much of any haste to it and not taking their warnings in their letters seriously at all. When she got there and saw that Freddy was on the other end of the hall, also quickly going to their room and carrying something heavy wrapped in his coat.

“Freddy! Run!” She yelled down the hall before Freddy quickly slipped out of his heeled shoes and ran for her as she pulled him into the room right in the nick of time and once inside the doors shut and locked on their own and there were so many other guests left out into the hallway who were angry and demanded that they should gain entry to their rooms for the night before they went looking for other rooms that had beds to get some sleep.

“What happened to you?” Freddy asked as he noticed Emily was covered in soot, the black staining the gorgeous peacock teal of her silk and satin dress.

“I went where death was certain.” Emily explained with a bright smile.

“What?” Freddy asked as he helped her out of her dress and helped her clean up, miraculously with only a dab of a damp cloth, the soot came out of it and didn’t actually stain the dress because it was dry dust at that point.

“Under the manor, where a basement should be, I found a cave, I believe it must have been a bat cave, but fire soon lit up the cave and I had to fall to the ground to keep the flames from eating me. The floor is covered in what feels like charred sawdust. But I think it is charred sawdust on top of guano. There were beetle and cockroach carcasses swirling in an unearthly wind. What did you find?” Emily asked.

“A telescope that rivals any and all that I had ever seen before. I could see the moon and Mars from it. There was also this,” Freddy answered as he pulled what he thought was a giant pink crystal from his coat that he had used to wrap around it and what had made his run difficult.

“Wow, it is obviously a very pink gemstone, a diamond perhaps, and it looks like there is a panther in it. You must have taken a rare gem indeed.” Emily realized when she took the large gem that was the size of a pomelo and had to be held with both hands as she looked it over, it was raw and uncut and gorgeous.

“Oh, oops.” Freddy grimaced.

“Do no worry my friend, we can return it tomorrow. But something is afoot tonight, we must try to figure it out.” Emily realized as she went over to the desk and put the gem down and took out not only her letter but everyone else’s letter that she happened to steal from them.

“I see your fingers are just as sticky as mine.” Freddy teased as he came over which got Emily to grin at him again before they both sat down and compared all the letters. An hour later, a chorus of screams was heard and Emily and Freddy looked at each other worriedly before it just pushed them to work harder but then a deathly quiet followed. Emily and Freddy began looking around the room for anything that could help them but found nothing of the sort before Freddy noticed the letters were numbered peculiarly.

“Fibonacci.” Freddy breathed before he looked at the letters and found that the letters were numbered in the upper right hand corner and arranged them in the Fibonacci sequence before they read them again in that order, this time, they began to make a little bit of sense, it was a set of warnings of how to survive their stay in the house. But they were missing several pages still.

“We are pawns in a game.” Emily realized as she grinned wider.

“You smile as if you are enjoying this.” Freddy teased.

“Who said I wasn’t?” Emily returned.“Come, lets get some sleep, we can’t think clearly if we haven’t slept.” Emily offered as they got ready for bed. In the morning, Emily acted as if nothing the least bit disturbing had happened the night before and was delighted when she checked the doors to see them unlocked. When she and Freddy went into the hall, most of the other guests were already running for their lives and leaving the place, screaming at the attendants and servants to make sure they got all their things so that they could leave this cursed place as soon as possible; a few of them begging Emily to leave too, saying that the house was haunted and that they were there to meet their deaths and to write to the Pope to tell him about it although all their accounts about the ghosts seemed strange to Emily.  

“Do you not wish to go also Lady Bellim?” Rolf asked her curiously as he and his men were done carrying things down for the other guests so they could leave, although he personally didn’t wish for her to go. He liked her the best, since she was kind, gracious and respectful whereas everyone else seemed to be haughty and rude.

“I have played many games with many lords Sir Rolf, this is yet another one. Besides, I feel there is a prize equal to the task that perhaps hasn’t been mentioned in the letters. I’m staying.” Emily firmly insisted. “Fredrick Dear, you are free to go if you wish, please don’t stay solely for my benefit.” Emily offered but Freddy was just as intrigued as she was.

“I believe I will be with you until the end, whatever that may be Emilia Darling.” Freddy returned before he sat down at the table to get some breakfast.

“If I may be so bold and if you’ll forgive my saying so,” Rolf began and paused to see her reaction, she raised a curious brow but her facial expression was of ease, inviting and curious which only emboldened him to finish his statement. “You two make quite the pair.” Rolf noted as Emily stayed right where she was next to Rolf feeling she was safer with Rolf than she was with any of the other guests. Like she could be at ease with him without being offensive or improper, like she could be friends with him. He had such a warm and inviting manner to his person and he was unusually handsome to her and he had a gentle charm about him too which she found quite attractive.  

“We are no pair at all, simply the best of friends who’ve known each other since childhood, we are closer than siblings and are like family but never more.” Emily whispered to Rolf as she spread her fan to cover her face and conceal her conversation with him but still offered him a friendly if not playful and fond smile which Rolf found enchanting. Most ladies plastered on fake or polite smiles, hers was different. It was genuine because even her eyes seemed to glitter and glow with delight. Rolf could understand why half of Europe was infatuated with her. Emily was lovely.  

“Oh?” Rolf asked curiously, hoping to keep her company for as long as he could.  

“My Dear Fredrick prefers the company of other men.” Emily whispered.

“I see,” Rolf nodded in understanding, his brother Fits would be delighted to learn that.

“So you can understand, as a lady who is constantly trying to get courted, how refreshing his company is and how much I can trust his companionship.” Emily added and Rolf could only nod in understanding and offer her a smile, he supposed if he were in her shoes, he would be the same way. “So if you’ll forgive my curiosity, how long have you been in service to his Lordship?” Emily asked since he seemed more talkative than most servants would be which she actually liked and enjoyed. Knowing that servants were people too and she usually received better service from them if she was kind and respectful to them and treated them with respect and dignity, that and it made her feel better as a person to be polite to them. Not thinking so highly of herself that she would look down on anyone else, especially servants.

“Since I was a boy.” Rolf answered.

“How often does his Lordship like to play such games?” Emily inquired.

“More often than not.” Rolf answered and Emily nodded in understanding.

“Thank you for your candor Sir Rolf, I greatly appreciate it.” Emily graciously thanked him.

“Thank you for yours Lady Bellim.” Rolf answered in kind and Emily couldn’t help but smile and felt a kinship to him and sat down to breakfast herself as Rolf watched her appreciatively. Most of the other people there talked down to him because they perceived him to be a servant when in reality, his father was Count Sparta and Lord of the house and pretending to be the Steward and he himself was Lord Sparta, parading around as his assistant to weed out the undeserving of their guests. Rolf had expressed an interest in getting married and his father’s way of dealing with that was to have this charade, wanting only the most brave and clever girl to be his son’s wife and so far only Emily and a few other girls and their families remained, those ones however were the more despicable families in his opinion. He strode over to his brother to whisper Emily’s revelation to him, knowing his own brother also preferred the company of other men too, his brother absolutely delighted to hear the news and immediately traded places with one of the servants so that he could attend to Freddy himself.  

After breakfast they were invited to tour the gardens, which they did. Emily and Freddy however easily crept out of them and really tried to survey the grounds and when they got to the other side of the house, they found bare wilderness, black smoke billowed out of some craggy rocks every so often near a cliff and at the cliff, there was a waterfall, the waters coming out from deep underneath the manor. Rolf watched from a distance, having panicked that he lost her on the grounds and went looking for her and breathed in relief when he found her but couldn’t help but appreciate Emily’s tenacity and bravery for exploring where she was, even laying on the ground to try to look over the cliff safely. Also appreciating the fact that she was more than a pretty face. She had a kindness and a humility to her nature that he found very appealing. He had heard many rumors about her, how she was as uncommonly pretty as she was clever, discerning and brilliant, too brilliant for a woman. Headstrong and lively too. Which to him were exactly what he was looking for. He wanted a wife to excite his mind as much as his body while warming his heart, he also heard rumors she was skittish, rebellious and refused to be coerced into anything she didn’t want to do and so far she had lived up to her reputation.  He was looking forward to seeing how she would react to the next test.

At lunch his father got his own steward and his own steward’s sons to pose as himself and his sons, riding gallantly up the drive and making a grand entrance and apologizing that they had urgent business with the king that they needed to take care of at the last minute, Rolf and Fits carrying the large chest of gold coins as the ‘payment’ for their services to the king which worked like a charm as the other guests eyed the gold laden chest with the same hunger a starving man would look at a plated meal. Then the real Lords watched how all the other families would react to their replacements and to no one’s surprise, all the daughters were pushed to fawn over the fake heirs. Rolf was keenly delighted however when Emily was not one of them, even though she was amiable and polite, she didn’t throw herself at the acting Lord like the other girls did. Instead she seemed to be keen on observing him but the more she was around him, the more it was obvious to Rolf that she did not like his acting replacement and made no further bids for his time or attention. He watched Emily look out the window after playing a card game with his replacement and had won and cashed out the moment she got all the winnings instead of staying to continue to play as he came to stand next to her since the light in her brilliant aquamarine eyes had died a little and now she looked rather sullen and it pained him to see her so, usually any girl would be over the moon winning as much as she did but instead she was looking more sullen than the losers were- now that her back was to everyone else and no one else cared to see how she was.

“Are you alright Lady Bellim?” Rolf asked as he came to stand with her at the large window.

“Yes, perfectly alright Sir Rolf, many thanks for your concern.” Emily answered, her whole being lighting up and the warmth of her expression returning the moment she noticed him come near her.

“Do you not take delight in his Lordship?” Rolf asked, fearing Emilia had already seen through the ruse.

“Could I be honest with you without causing offense?” Emily asked warily but with hints of hopefulness.

“Please, by all means, you have a fantastic mind, please continue to bestow upon me the candor we enjoyed earlier.” Rolf invited and couldn’t help but let his own grin grow as hers did the same.  

“His Lordship is handsome to be sure. However I have heard rumors from his previous tutors that his Lordship is supposed to be uncommonly clever and brilliant and so far I do not find him to be so. All of his gambles were, and continue to be- reckless and stupid. The other ladies loose on purpose so as to make him out to be the winner anyway and it wasn’t because he was dealt bad cards, it was because he played good cards badly. If he were to loose so they would gain on purpose is one thing but what he is doing is another. It was too easy to win against him, that is why I do not play with him now, he would loose this entire estate and I do not like to take unfair advantage of him or any other stupid person, it’s just not right.” Emily answered softly so that only Rolf would hear her. “To be such a Lord and to know that all this rests on his shoulders, he would know since birth to be more careful. It is as if he lives in a fantasy of his own making just like every other Lord and Noble who likes to squander their resources I know- and I do not care for it. And his conversation is lacking. It’s as deep as a puddle. He’s supposed to have some of the best education in all of Europe and so far he does not live up to his reputation. I’ve made mentions and references of the classics and the well known riddles and rhetoric and he responds as if I am speaking gibberish. I am profoundly disappointed.” Emily explained and Rolf was ready to kiss her because she saw through it without realizing it and she was a woman who knew her stuff and when he had overheard her conversations over the course of the card game, he was inwardly groaning and fighting not to join in himself because everything she said went over his replacement’s head and Rolf wanted to know her opinions on everything because she was educated and informed about everything she tried talking about. To have anyone be as educated as himself, his father and his brother was a rare treat and delight and his stand in, while knowledgeable about how to run an estate and how to take care of lord and guest alike, was severely lacking in all other topics but she was the only one to make it show. And he could do nothing but respect her for it. And respect her for staying true to herself and not dumb-ing herself down to flatter his replacements like the other girls instantly had.

“So what can you tell me about the cave under the manor, unless you must be getting back to your duties.” Emily initiated since she had his attention for the moment, might as well benefit from it and enjoy it.

“There is a natural gas leak into the cave system under the manor that spontaneously combusts. You should stay away from it.” Rolf warned her but instead of shock and horror at that revelation, he found a smug grin meeting his statement which was intriguing him to say the least.  

“Too late, I found it last night, my grandmother wrote a letter to me- in it she told me to go ‘where death is eminent for the treasure of life’ along with a key to the door and I intend to do the opposite of that.” Emily revealed as she pulled a key out of her little purse, which was already stuffed with her winnings for the briefest of moments and Rolf blinked in surprise at her.

“Then if you insist on returning to that place, please permit me to join you, it would be improper for such a Lady as yourself to get injured on these grounds.” Rolf insisted- eager to leave the drawing room and the mindless banter and the disingenuous laughter. Even more eager to spend time one and one with her, even as improper as that was.  

“Could we go now?” Emily asked as her features lit up with excitement.

“Of course.” Rolf answered.

“I believe I’ll get changed into proper attire first.” Emily said as she left and dressed into Freddy’s lower clothes which were simply what he wore when he wanted to be comfortable before Freddy and Rolf’s brother Fits joined them as Rolf tried and failed not to look at the shapeliness of her legs and hips. Thinking that women in trousers, well her in trousers was quite becoming actually. He wondered what she would be like riding astride on a horse or better yet, riding astride him but he quickly tried and failed to push that thought from his head.

“So where are we going then?” Freddy asked.

“To the burning caves under the house, care to join me?” Emily beamed happily as she put all the letters and put them into a small leather satchel for later reference.

“But of course.” Freddy agreed as he changed into some lower clothes too and the four of them set off and Rolf watched in fascination as Emily seemed to know exactly where she was going as if she had grown up here herself as they took a lantern and with Emily once again opening the door with her key, they gained entry and started traversing the caves.

“How well have you explored these caves Sir Rolf?” Emily asked Rolf.

“Please, just Rolf, Lady Bellim.” Rolf corrected, he wanted her to use his name, that title would do him little good down here. He hated it down here and only came down here when absolutely necessary or from a direct order of his father to retrieve something in particular.

“If you are going to dispense with formality, in my case then I ask that you do the same. Emily, please.” Emily insisted as she shook hands with him as they were soon grinning happily at each other.

“So back to my question, how well have you explored these caves Rolf?” Emily asked.

“Not well at all.” Rolf professed as they trudged through, the lantern turned up so as to light up the caves better.

“And you?” Emily asked Fits.

“This is the first time in them My Lady.” Fits answered nervously, their father always threatened them with throwing them in here as punishment growing up and he was nearly pissing himself in fear, but as such Freddy and himself had already dispensed with formality and had talked all through the card game and Fits was already becoming loath to leave Freddy’s side.

“Please, Emily, we are all friends here are we not?” Emily asked.

“Indeed we are Emily.” Fits beamed. He could see what his brother liked about her. She had an ease to her that most girls did not before the gas ignited and they all dove down to the ground, Fits and Freddy falling to try to shield each other and Emily as Rolf shielded Emily completely with himself and once the flames extinguished the four got up and dusted themselves off.

“Well that was exciting.” Emily beamed happily, happy that Rolf hadn’t tried to sneak a feel of her at all, simply tried to protect her courageously, which she thought was sweet of him as he helped her back up to her feet.

“You are the only one who could think so Emily.” Fits grumbled, having nearly fainted when that happened.

“The breeze is coming from over there.” Freddy realized when he licked his finger to feel the direction of the breeze more keenly.

“Yes but our expedition earlier proved that there is nothing in that direction but a vent in a ceiling, I came to see if these caves are connected to the water.” Emily explained as Fits and Rolf looked at each other in surprise. She was smarter than they had estimated. “So in my experience, head closer to the humidity and downwards.” Emily suggested before they came to a fork. One leading upwards while the other went downwards.

“The gas likes to gravitate towards elevation, thus why it ignites in the ceiling, we will be safer if we head downwards if we were to head upwards the ignition line will only lower to our level and burn us up for sure.” Emily noted as Fits grew even more afraid and Freddy, took a leap and held onto Fits’ hand as the two clung to one another as Emily grinned encouragingly at Freddy.

“Do you know fear at all Emily?” Rolf asked as they went further down the second tunnel grabbing her hand to steady her decent as he went first before her through the deepening charred guano that was starting to get wetter in shallower depths.

“Of course I do, it is because I respect it so that I have gotten this far.” Emily answered. “Do you know why there was screaming last night?” Emily asked Rolf seemingly as an afterthought.

“I do not, when we came upon the other guests, they claimed they had seen ghosts.” Rolf only partially lied, himself and his brother and father and half the staff dressing up as ghosts to scare their guests away on purpose.

“Well it can be argued that most estates are haunted. The unspeakable acts usually unfolded within the walls of the wealthy and powerful make them such.” Emily reasoned.

“I do hope you have never been a victim of such atrocities?” Rolf ventured, appalled that she would be resigned to such a notion, wanting to protect her from such crimes.

“Of course I have, I’m an orphan and heiress to an estate, I have known nothing but. Talk seriously with any Mistress and she’ll tell you the horrors of every Lord. I am lucky in that I have a choice in the matter, most in my position do not.” Emily returned and Rolf found himself helpless to not respect such an answer.

“However, upon hearing statements from the other guests, I do wonder if perhaps several servants were simply under sheets with holes cut out for the eyes, based on the fact that ghosts cast neither shadow or make human sounds, like snickering laughter and loud thundering steps when they run. Surely if I see a ghost I am throwing my cross at it and if it goes right through, it’s a real ghost, if it makes contact with something solid, it is simply a joke-ster. I have heard rumors that Lord Sparta does enjoy a good ruse, it would not surprise me in the least if he put his own servants up to scaring his own guests.” Emily mused as she watched Rolf and Fits look away guiltily and narrowed her eyes playfully as her grin grew smug.

“Well surely if I get approached by such a ghost, there are plenty suits of armor in the halls, I shall not hesitate to grab a spear or javelin and run them through with it.” Emily professed.

“And Emily is quite inept at throwing things, like a modern David and Goliath.” Freddy boasted as Rolf and Fits looked at each other worriedly as they both made mental notes to not even attempt to scare her later and would be warning the others of that to leave Emily and Freddy alone lest something tragic happen.  

“I have heard rumors that you are uncommonly clever and brave. I am blessed to know these rumors are true, his Lordship would be a fool for not wanting you like all the rest.” Rolf praised, changing the subject.

“That buffoon upstairs? No thank you. Although being mistress of these caves would be a wonder but I doubt I shall ever get to explore them again. As soon as he chooses a bride and the real prize is revealed, I’m sure we will all be sent home. But this has been a most fun game and I’ll mourn it’s loss when it’s done.” Emily returned as Fits snickered a laugh at Emily’s bluntness as Rolf could only stare at her in awed amazement.  

“You would make the best mistress of these caves.” Fits praised.

“Thank you, that is the highest praise I’ve ever received.” Emily beamed happily before they heard the flames light up again and they all dove to the ground once again. Rolf, shielding Emily with himself again as Fits and Freddy did the same to each other and Emily true to Emily’s guess, the flames only hugged the ceiling this time and quickly running up towards the other passages. Knowing they all would have been dead for sure if they hadn’t followed her direction.

“Ha! I knew it! They do lead to the water!” Emily beamed as she found a stream as Rolf was careful with the lantern to only light up the stream, the mass of their fortune in giant chests on the other side of the stream along with the stairwell that led directly to his father’s room and he didn’t want Emily to see that part. Although if she was brave enough to traverse these caves perhaps she was entitled to it on that merit alone.

“Come on.” Emily urged them.

“Woah, woah, woah, what are you doing?” Rolf stopped her when she made a run for the stream.

“I’m going to ride down the waterfall it’s not that tall, I’ve jumped from higher. You go feet first.” Emily giggled and Rolf just smiled brighter at her. She was perfect.  

“Not without me.” Rolf said once he grabbed a firm hold onto her hand and they both made a run for the stream and jumped in together, both of them cackling with laughter as their splash extinguished the lantern.  

“Is she always like that?” Fits asked Freddy as they clung to each other in the darkness.  

“Yeah, come on, before the cave alights again.” Freddy said as he led Fits over to the river’s edge as they both jumped in hand in hand too.

“I have never in my life, done anything like this.” Fits admitted with a laugh as they felt the stream carry them down before, in an act of courage kissed Freddy before Freddy kissed him back.

“Isn’t this so much fun?” Emily asked Rolf as they floated further down stream as they both fought to keep their heads above water while still keeping a hold of each other.

“It is.” Rolf laughed despite himself before the mouth of the falls appeared.

“Ok feet first!” Emily laughed as she gripped his hand even tighter before they both yelled in delight as they plummeted to the lake below followed closely by Freddy and Fits who both hollered loudly as Rolf and Emily laughed before they made sure they were all ok before they swam to the shore and once on land the four of them laughed until they were crying and continued to talk all the way back to the estate.

“It would be a pleasure to be your friend Rolf and if I could ever steal you away from his Lordship, I would, in heartbeat.” Emily offered to Rolf once he dropped her off at her room while Freddy went with Fits to get some clean dry clothes in his own temporary room because that kiss ignited their own fire.  

“Only if you’ll allow me the same opportunity.” Rolf returned charmingly.

“Deal.” Emily grinned as she handed him her hand for him to shake again as he shook it before he kissed her hand affectionately and that kiss sent a shivering, delightful tingle throughout Emily’s body, the first kiss she had ever received to elicit such a reaction from her before she, out pure rebelliousness did the same to him which made him blush and smile bashfully. He really loved her now before she felt even bolder and used her hold on his hand and pulled him in to kiss him before he kissed her back, framing her beautiful face with his hands as she wrapped her arms around him to pull him flush with herself and felt the heat of his body come through their drenched clothes.

“You should get dressed for dinner Emily.” Rolf insisted even though he wanted to take things further but knew if he did, the jig would be up and he confess to everything and he would ruin it all.

“You’re right, forgive me for...” Emily began, slightly embarrassed that she wanted more. But not at all ashamed that she wanted it from him rather than Lord Sparta himself.

“Nothing to forgive.” Rolf cut her off and Emily just smiled wider at him.

Over dinner Emily naturally sat at the other end of the table away from her hosts to let the other girls and their families try their hand and wooing them. She was beyond disinterested and she ate quite a bit, as if it was her last meal there and the food was beyond delicious and so she gorged herself as if at any moment, Lord Sparta would dismiss her and Freddy- to bid them to go home as Fits and Rolf waited on them, sneaking the best and most delicious wine to them. But to Emily’s surprise, his Lordship didn’t bid her goodbye. However when she came back to her room for the evening, she found the #5 letter pinned to her door and Emily grinned when she realized the game was still being played as she took it and put it with the others and grinned wider when it started to make even more sense. Like a giant puzzle.

“Emily? Would you mind if I spent the night with another?” Freddy asked as he came to stand beside her.

“As long as it’s Fits, I don’t mind one bit.” Emily returned proudly.

“Then don’t mind.” Freddy grinned triumphantly as he kissed her cheek sweetly and got his things and left again. Soon after the doors locked again and Emily simply shrugged and sighed contentedly as she got ready for bed, adding another blanket to the bed so she would stay warm and she slept so soundly she didn’t wake to hear the screams of the other guests through the night knowing that it was a hoax and that there was nothing to really fear at all.

In the morning, she found she had actual attendants to help her with her hair and dressing along with a new necklace. Emily frowned as she allowed them to put the necklace on her. But at breakfast she saw one family leaving already, the girl crying that she wanted to stay and strolled right up to the young Lord Sparta, the one she was supposed to be wooing but had no interest in doing so.

“Lord Sparta.” Emily began as she curtsied.

“Yes good morning Lady Bellim.” He smiled charmingly at her.

“Is Lady Willowbe being sent home by your Lordship or is she going home of Lord Willowbe’s will?” She asked.

“Both, Lady Bellim.” He answered.

“Why? Did not your Lordship take delight in her? She seemed quite happy to compete for your attention. Why not send me home instead to allow her to stay?” Emily inquired.

“Because you are still playing the game. She sought to cheat.” He answered.

“Lord Sparta, I have already cheated, I’ve stolen some of the other guests’ letters.” Emily confessed.

“No, that does not break the rules at all,” he argued as Emily simply frowned in confusion at him.  

“Could you please tell me all the rules then? I would not like to break them by accident and forfeit my place in the game then.” Emily returned.

“No, where would the fun be in that?” He grinned before he walked off leaving Emily to think over his words. Maybe he was smarter than she gave him credit for and maybe he was playing dumb on purpose the day before.  

After breakfast they went to the drawing room as the girls showed off their accomplishments with the piano forte’s and songs and poetry and Emily begrudgingly participated only because Lord Sparta invited her to do so that flirted with demanded in tone as she was almost predisposed to tell him to ‘piss off’ before she indulged him and the other guests in doing as requested before she played another game with him and was surprised when he was a much better player this time but Emily still felt as if everything was wrong about him. After games, they went to the garden to try to get through the maze and Emily grabbed a hold of Rolf again.

“I do not wish to go through this maze with Lord Sparta, I’d much prefer to go through it with you.” Emily told him and smiled when he smiled in turn.

“Of course My Lady.” Rolf offered his elbow to her to escort her through it and smiled again when she hugged his arm and seemed to have a system to go through the maze reaching out and keeping her right hand continuously on the wall to her right. Another piece of advice given to her by her grandmother.

“I must confess something Rolf.” She began as they found a lonely corner of the maze, away from the gazes and ears of the others.

“Surely you have done nothing to be confessed to.” Rolf began.

“On the contrary I continuously do things wrong that must be confessed to. I am not playing the game fairly. I stole some of the other’s guests letters.” Emily confessed again.

“I believe that’s one of the ways to play the game Emily.” Rolf answered, albeit a little apologetically since he could clearly see she wasn’t enjoying herself around his replacement.

“Then if you have such knowledge, won’t you share it with me Dear Rolf?” Emily asked, giving him a hopeful yet pleading look and Rolf would have given every coin he had to continue to hear her talk to him so endearingly and affectionately for the rest of his life.

“I only know some of the rules but I will tell them to you.” Rolf answered before he told her all that he knew that his own father had told him.

“Would Fits know more?” Emily asked as they neared the center of the maze.

“No, Fits and I were told all of that together.” He told her and thought her pout of disappointment was absolutely adorable. “But his Lordship’s finery does look quite fetching on you.” Rolf praised as he appreciated how good Emily looked in his late mother’s necklace and had to laugh when Emily rolled her eyes.

“He is wasting it on me. While I do not wish to offend his Lordship by not wearing it. It does not endear him to me. If anything it poses to push me farther away from him because every other Lord tries to woo me with jewels. I suppose it was his late mother’s necklace, judging by how fine it is. I dare not take it with me when he sends me home.” Emily insisted.

“How can you be so certain that you will be sent home?” Rolf asked.

“Because I have no interest in his Lordship. I do not flatter him, I do not fawn over him. If he is the only prize in this game perhaps I should forfeit now. I simply do not care for him. Yesterday he was overly stupid, today he is trying too hard to be overly clever. He is all wrong. It is as if he’s a first time actor trying to play the role of his Lordship and he keeps getting his lines wrong. Besides, I’d much rather spend more time with you, I feel you’d play better games and provide better banter for me anyway.” Emily praised as she hugged his arm tighter before he stopped and couldn’t help but kiss her again, happy that she pulled him flush with herself first and leaned her head up to kiss him, having realized he wanted to kiss her and realizing she wanted to be kissed for once, if only by him though.

“Do not play the game for him then, play it for me, if you win, you can have me as the prize instead.” Rolf whispered when they broke for air.

“You drive a very hard bargain Dearest. Very well, only for you then.” Emily begrudgingly agreed before she kissed him again, feeling quite addicted to his kisses already.

The next day, they did some riding and shooting, Emily not holding back and hitting more birds than young Lord Sparta did. Rolf unbelievably pleased that Emily was the only one genuinely trying while the rest of the ladies refused to try more than once, Emily saving the dogs more than once because of how bad those ladies were at shooting. Emily was also the only woman to wear browns, tweeds and trousers so she could ride astride the horses and not spook the game while all the other ladies wore bright colors and pretty dresses and had to ride side saddle and could move no faster than a walk on the horses while Freddy, Fits, Rolf and Emily got to run and canter all over the country side as much as their hearts desired. Rolf put Emily on his own favorite horse which was one of the faster ones in the stables and watched as she rode it just as well as he usually did and in dead runs, she won out, leaping and jumping over logs and boulders with ease, not caring in the least if she got dirty because she was genuinely having fun and it was a sight for Rolf to see while his ears eagerly took in the sounds of her delighted laughter and conversation.

Over the course of the week, Emily tried to play more fairly and more nicely with her competitors and his Lordship and every other morning, another girl was sent home but that evening Emily got a new letter pinned to her door until the end of the week. She felt she had all but one of the Fibonacci sequence pages and understood most of it until it was herself and one other lady were all that remained, the other lady being Viscountess Eliza from England and Eliza stared cloaked daggers at Emily every time she looked at her. Emily however was undisturbed by this and Rolf simply watched with pride as Emily seemingly took it all in stride and let Eliza’s actions and sugar coated venom-ed words roll off of her like water from a duck’s back. While Emily did her best to befriend her host, Lord Sparta, she could not harbor feelings for him besides the polite platonic kind since her budding romance with Rolf bloomed more and more each day, he even came up with mini games just for the two of them to play which she was keen to play and win if only because she was playing with Rolf over everyone else. Usually he would have been scared she saw straight through the ruse but at the same time, he didn’t care. He really liked her and was starting to really love her and adored her and missed her when they parted for the night and it was getting harder and harder to play the role of a servant but his own servant who was playing his role took it with stride as the two tried to help each other with their reversed roles.

At the end of the week, Emily found herself walking through the greenhouse with Rolf, who seemed to be her constant companion when Freddy was no where to be found, the few times he did show up, was simply to tell her that he was fine and that he was currently getting lost in Fits which she congratulated him for and was happy that he was finding love and happiness, even as unintended as it was.

“Do you know if his Lordship will make his decision soon?” Emily asked as she wanted to smell every fragrant bloom in the greenhouse and was currently nose deep in the most fragrant roses.

“Why do you ask?” Rolf asked, not wanting his time with her to end, ever.

“Well Freddy is quite in love with Fits and I don’t want to separate them by loosing to the game too early and I do enjoy your company and I would be loathed to part from you and I’m prepared to make an offer for you from his Lordship but I do not know if he will part with you and Fits but this is proving tortuous for Eliza and I don’t wish for needless suffering.” Emily reasoned and Rolf was burning up inside, wanting to tell her everything but couldn’t.

“Are you missing home at all?” Rolf asked, trying to change the subject again.

“Yes and no. I miss my servants who are proving to be the few loyal friends I have anymore.” Emily admitted as she pet the petals of a lily before smelling it and smiling softly at the scent. “Truth is I have very few friends indeed. All ladies my age are my competitors, all men period are usually my suitors and they look at me and see a pretty face behind a large purse, a trophy to put in a glass case or a gilded cage, or better yet some kind of wild animal they hope to tame to stroke their own egos or the living embodiment of His Holiness that they can attain. Or worse yet, money grabbers who think I have a grand fortune and will receive even greater once my grandmother passes. But it’s all a lie. I live a very modest life, barely getting by some years. The estate took most of my inheritance and the wages of the servants and doctors and caretakers of my grandmother take the rest of it. All the finery I wear is actually “gifts” from all the other nobles and lords- payment for coyly flirting with them for a week at a time, feeding them crumbs of false hope that they are “wearing me down” to accept them. I hate it. It makes me feel like a harlot, selling my attention like that. Never myself mind you but still, far too close for my liking. I refuse to sell my pride or my self respect though. Perhaps it’s that- that everyone else is after and while I spend my birthday week at the Vatican with his Holiness, he barely remembers me anymore. That cross I wore is the only thing he’s ever bestowed upon me and I do not have the heart to ask him for anything. I’m not noble by blood, my blood is no more noble than yours is, I was just blessed at birth and my father got promoted to his station when the previous holder of it died. My mother was a camp follower for Christ’s sake and while everyone treats me like I’m royalty I know they only do so until I choose someone, then once the truth about me is found out, they’ll treat me like the trash I think they all secretly think I am. The only power I have is my ability to see things for the way they are and say no.” Emily confessed as she smelled the fragrant jasmine before sitting down to tea with Rolf that was just brought to them.

“Then don’t play to such horrible people Dearest.” Rolf said simply.

“I would love nothing more than to take your advice and simply quit it all but I have the livelihoods of many who depend on me. My grandmother is nearly senile and caring for her is very costly, that’s why I gamble, all my winnings go to actually taking care of myself and feeding and clothing myself because my living can not sustain myself to the degree everyone expects of me and my estate and my grandmother. Freddy’s father is about to be considered senile himself and is at risk of being enemies with the state every time he goes into a tirade rant. I don’t know how much longer either of us can hold out.” Emily worried, showing her rare vulnerable side, but only because she felt she knew she could trust Rolf with such things, he had never taken advantage of her and always waited until she initiated contact first.

“It sounds like you’re tired My Dear.” Rolf surmised.

“I am.” Emily huffed a laugh as she sipped her tea. “The tea is delicious today, what kind is this again?” Emily asked.

“You see that bright red flower on that bush right there?” Rolf asked as he pointed to the blooms in question as Emily nodded yes in confirmation. “That is a hibiscus, this is tea made from the flowers.” Rolf answered.

“Such a beautiful flower makes equally beautiful tea.” Emily grinned happily as she continued to drink it and savor it.

“I’ve noticed you have a healthy appetite. Most ladies pick at their foods like delicate birds, I know the cooks work hard on the food and it seems like you’re the only one who enjoys it and it makes me happy to see you enjoy the meals.” Rolf praised as he watched her try all the cakes, having asked the cooks to really outdo themselves to make something that she would deem as her favorite so he could lavish it on her.

“They do work very hard and I do thoroughly enjoy everything and it feels like a waste if I do not at least try all of it. I don’t care if I appear gluttonous with the others, back at home I usually eat whatever the servants cook for themselves because it’s more cost effective if I do. A lot of expense can be spent on just a meal for myself, my grandmother already needs such a special diet, I would prefer for her to eat well rather than myself. You’d be surprised how long I can subsist on soups and stews with breads alone.” Emily confessed before she continued to devour the special lemon and berry cakes, quite liking those. “Although I must say, this is exquisite, I could eat a case of these.” Emily noted as Rolf beamed happily at her as he made a mental note of that.  

“Maybe your fortune will change and you’ll be able to eat like you do here all the time, wherever you go, especially at home.” Rolf offered.

“Don’t curse me like that.” Emily returned with a frown.

“Curse? What curse? How is that a curse?” Rolf asked in astonishment.

“Because the only way that will happen is if I marry a Lord, one of the overstuffed buffoons who try to tempt me with such things. I would rather come here and serve as a maid and eat whatever the servants here eat if it means I can eat with you every day. I am not above such things. It would be honest work and I’d be happy making honest money for honest work. Granted in order to do that, my grandmother would probably have to die first and I’d have to sell the estate and that would probably pull my heart and soul from my body to do but if that’s how I have to survive then so be it. I can only hope the next mistress treats my friends well.” Emily explained.

“I will give you every coin I have to make sure that never happens.” Rolf offered.

“Oh hush, don’t speak of such nonsense. I would never ask that of you. You’ve earned your wages and you should use them to take care of yourself and your own loved ones, surely you have family outside of this estate who needs those funds more than I. I can get by, I obviously do. I know how hard life can be for servants no matter their master. Use it for those in a worse state than I. I just wanted you to know the truth of the matter. Every other man has their own fantasy of my fortune and I don’t have the heart to tell them it’s already gone. You have been honest with me, I need to be honest with you in return. You deserve more than the false hope I feel I have to shell out to everyone else. You deserve the truth. You deserve better than I could ever hope to give you.” Emily insisted and Rolf both wanted to break down and cry or throw up from guilt but at the same breath, confess to his own truth. Feeling she deserved it in turn and could barely stomach this charade any longer. He waited until she was done chewing and swallowed before he kissed her tenderly. Feeling bad for kissing her instead of telling her the truth. But kissing her was the best and easiest thing he could do for now.  

“And you deserve better than I could ever give you. If you truly wish to stay with me here, I’ll make the arrangements, if you want me to go home with you, I will, without a second thought or hesitation, the Count and his Lordship be damned. Just give me a little bit more time my dearest Emily.” Rolf breathed as he stroked her gorgeous face before she turned her head slightly to kiss his palm as her hands came to rest over his own. Usually she would have been on the other side of the greenhouse to keep space between herself and everyone else but she wanted to be close to him and she craved his touch and his closeness as much as her body craved breath and every moment they could steal away and enjoy their privacy like this, she cherished. Her own grandmother be damned for marrying ‘beneath’ her. She loved Rolf and since she had the power to choose for herself, she was going to choose him, no matter the cost.

“Alight.” Emily nodded in agreement.

The next morning however at breakfast there were still only two girls left, Emily and Eliza and his lordship did not come to breakfast instead another attendant came and made an announcement.

“Miss Eliza, you are the winner of the grand game, please turn in your letter to receive your prize.” He announced and Eliza lit up with excitement and quickly handed over her letter that she had not let Emily look at- at all and had horded and guarded this whole time as Emily blew out a breath of relief before she offered her congratulations to Eliza for a game well played and won.

“Miss Emilia, your prize for being the runner up.” The attendant said as he handed Emily the last letter.

“Thank you.” Emily beamed as she took it and added it to the others.

“Where are all the rest of them? I had page 144.” Eliza frowned.

“Have you ever heard of Fibonacci, Miss Eliza?” Rolf asked as he came strutting into the room, wearing his proper clothes with his attendant, who had been parading as Lord Sparta following behind him dressed in his proper steward in training clothes.

“Fiba- who?” Eliza asked in confusion as Emily did a double take and just gasped in shock and stared in stunned silence at Rolf, her mouth hanging open almost comically as her eyes were wide before she remembered to cover her mouth with her hand. Rolf looked so handsome dressed up before she realized all the signs that he had been Lord Sparta all along. No servant should have been so candid and conversational with her but she had been so desperate for his kindred companionship she hadn’t cared to notice the impropriety of it before she just couldn’t help but smile to herself before smiling adoringly at to him- her eyes welling with tears as she wanted to cry from her overwhelming emotions. She should have known all along, normally she would have been furious being tricked like this but she didn’t care. Her prize of Rolf- had not changed and she was happy to have him in whatever form he would take. Then she took her necklace off, the very piece that was the late Countess Sparta’s necklace and threw it at him jokingly to make sure he wasn’t a ghost himself which got both of them to laugh as he easily caught it.

“Fibonacci, is a famed mathematician, he had a formula for numbers, start with zero, zero plus one, is one again, one plus one is two, one plus two is three, two plus three is five and so on and so forth, adding the previous two numbers to get to the next.” Emily answered Eliza’s question as Emily showed Eliza all the letters and pointed to the numbers in the upper right hand corner as Eliza realized she was the victim of a cruel trick herself and stared hatefully at the very man she had been trying to ensnare all week.

“So are you my prize then? A servant?” Eliza sneered at the manservant.

“Of course not my Lady, your prize is this.” He answered as he placed a simple but small bar of gold in front of her. “Is this not what you have been digging and vying for all this time?” He taunted before she huffed and took the bar of gold and got up and stormed off to her rooms with it as she quickly got ready to leave before Rolf put his mother’s necklace back on Emily.

“Thank you for not actually throwing a spear Dearest.” Rolf gently teased as he touched her shoulders affectionately and kissed the back of her head.

“Next time.” Emily teased back as she looked up at him, looking at his handsome face upside down, the two laughed again before Emily turned her attention back to the steward in training.

“So what is your real name Sir?” Emily asked the manservant with a grin.

“Byron.” He said as he held his hand out to shake hers.

“Pleasure to meet you Sir Byron.” Emily greeted him. “And if I can just say, you make a terrible lord.” Emily teased which earned a laugh from everyone, especially Bryon and Rolf and his father- William as Rolf sat down next to her as William sat at the head of the table as Freddy and Fits finally reappeared, having done nothing but lay together and draw closer all week in Fits’ real room. Fits sat to the left his father and Freddy sat on the other side of Fits and sat in Eliza’s seat across from Emily as Freddy beamed proudly at Emily for being the real winner of the grand game.  

“This my dear Emily, is your prize.” Rolf said as he put a ring box on the table in front of Emily before Emily put her stack of letters down on the table between them to open it and found an engagement ring, a smaller miniature version of the pink panther diamond they had found and returned earlier that week before Emily offered her left hand so Rolf could put the ring onto her hand.

“And I am honored to receive such a prize.” Emily returned as she just smiled adoringly at Rolf before turning her attention to his father William. “And I must applaud you Count Sparta for putting together such a fantastic game, I see from the rules that you yourself are very well read, pulling from the great minds of the masters of the Renaissance especially.” Emily praised Lord Sparta who beamed happily at her.

“And I must applaud you for seeing so easily through the guises.” He returned. “You will bring much to this family, if you choose to stay.” He returned to her.

“I believe I will.” Emily grinned as she squeezed Rolf’s hand from under the table. “But I must also tell you that my estate is a mere fraction of what most think it to be. All the wealth I had has been put towards the upkeep of the manor and care of my own servants who I count as friends.” Emily revealed.

“And it is because you invested your funds as such that made you such an invaluable treasure, when my son told me as such I knew you had won the game and so I put an end to it today, not wanting you to suffer any more than you already have, especially at that horrid girl’s lack of manners. You are by far the most superior lady I have ever come in contact with besides my own dear Contessina and I know you will look after this estate with the same care you do your own manor. That is why I gave your grandmother the key to the letters and the key to the caves, because if you were brave enough to traverse them, you will no doubt bravely walk next my son through life.” Lord Sparta smiled appreciatively at her. “When Rolf said he wanted to marry, I devised this plan so that not only would a wise and brilliant woman figure it out, but a brave and courageous yet kind heart-ed woman would win my son. I understand you are quite the problem solver and the beholder of many fantastic ideas, I’d love to hear them if you will be so kind as to share them with us.” Lord Sparta invited as she blushed and smiled bashfully at such praise, but knowing it was sincere- meant the world to her.

“If you will send for Fredrick’s father, who is not just a brilliant scientist but inventor as well, I believe together we can find a solution to the gas problem, I think if you could manage to collect it and harness it safely and keep it from self igniting. It would prove very useful.” Emily began.

“Then please do tell.” Lord Sparta invited before Emily took a deep breath and began to tell him all sorts of ideas as she felt the same ease and free-ness she would feel at home.

That night after rounds of games and cards with the real lords and being thrilled to finally play them well with her fiance and his father, brother and Freddy and in return, be played well with. Rolf led Emily to his real quarters since one of the rules of the game were that no lady would lie with anyone for the duration of the game and now that the game was over, they were both more than eager to be together before her things were put into the room as well to stay with him until the wedding that would be planned the next day.

“At last, we can be completely alone.” Rolf breathed in relief once they were both undressed and redressed in their night clothes but Emily had quickly and easily stripped out of her night gown the moment they were under the covers as Rolf did the same.

“Yes, at last.” Emily giggled as Rolf had Emily roll on top of him and ride him just like he had imagined all week, wanting Emily to continue to have all the control she wanted, both of them moaning at finally being joined as they kissed each other very deeply and Emily felt no ill feelings at being touched and caressed, instead of feeling dread, she felt at ease and happiness in addition to be wanted but more importantly treasured and respected most of all as she put his hands to her body without a hint of embarrassment or shyness. “Please my Dearest Emily, tell me and instruct me how to please you best.” Rolf pleaded desperately, wanting and needing to give her every pleasure and Emily could have cried she was so moved by such a sentiment that she told him exactly how and was blown away when he was able to pull from her body and soul the sweetest of pleasured releases as she did the same to him.

“You will be the best Lady Sparta.” Rolf praised as he laid next to Emily and wiped the sweat from his brow as they both panted as they recovered, their bodies still alight with delight.

“Only if you’ll be the best Lord Sparta, forever at my side.” Emily returned as she found herself in his embrace once again.

“Always.” Rolf smiled before he kissed her again.

“And quit kissing me instead of telling me things. I realized you kissed me instead of telling me the truth all week, you must stop that this instant, please tell me everything from now on.” Emily insisted.

“I was under oath from my father! I had very little choice in the matter, I swear.” Rolf insisted as Emily gave him a playfully unimpressed look.

“I swear on my mother’s grave I told you all I could without ruining the game. If I did, the game would be over and forefit and I could never hope to see you or speak to you again, those were the rules placed upon me.” Rolf swore as Emily gave him a softened hard look but detected he was telling her the truth.

“Very well, but I have a favor to ask of you Dearest.” Emily began.

“Anything.” Rolf returned.

“My grandmother’s doctors have advised me that my grandmother can not be moved from the house. Would you mind terribly moving to my estate until she passes? It can not be long now.” Emily requested.

“I wouldn’t mind at all, we could leave as soon as you wish.” Rolf immediately answered.

“Thank you My Love.” Emily cooed as she kissed him again, in the morning, they did indeed plan for their wedding and even agreed on invitations while the servants got everything ready for their departure and the very next day after that Rolf had an entire chest of gold and treasure put onto one of his father’s very grand and very luxurious dormeuse, with his brother and Freddy taking another with yet another chest with them. Freddy already wearing some of Fits clothes while Rolf had already ordered loads of dresses for Emily so that she would always be the most well dressed woman in the room that would rival even royalty and once inside the carriage, Emily giddily closed the curtains so that her and Rolf could continue to enjoy maritals on the journey home.

[sunshinelulusplatoon]

OYTARSS: Chapter 4

(Okay, chapter 4 is here. Enjoy. Side not, if writing is in bold, it’s octarian language. How I write it.)

Chapter 4

Two Kings and A Princess

“LULU HELIA ENTRA! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT GOING OUT IN THE WATERS BY YOURSELF?!?”

I was grounded. No ifs, thens, or buts. I disobeyed rules and lied about what happened to me. Grandpa was not happy and he sat there and lectured me on my behaviors for what seemed like 20 minutes. Though after he had calmed down, he was interested in what we had to say. Explaining everything, Grandpa sat there in thought for a bit before speaking.

“So this creature is friendly?” Grandpa asked. “It would seem so sir. From what reports are showing, it is, and from the encounter earlier, it seems intelligent,” the guard that brought us to the pier earlier replied, “Though we aren’t fully sure on it’s motives since what language it tried to speak to us today we couldn’t understand but it does give off this vibe that it’s just curious about us.”

Sitting there on his cushion throne, Grandpa thought about things again, tapping a tentacle in thought as he looked through the files collected with another one, before finally speaking up again. “I would still be a bit hesitant, but, if it hasn’t attacked yet and is willing, I would try to see if you and the others can find some way of communication with this creature. Who knows what sorts of things it knows and if granted, an alliance with it could be beneficial for us,” Grandpa replied.

Giving nods to each other, we were about to wrap things up when a guard came rushing in. “YOUR HIGHNESS! YOUR HIGHNESS!” The guard shouted as they came barreling in. “What is all this commotion?” Grandpa questioned, looking stern for our meeting to be interrupted like this before properly finishing. “Sir….we...got word...from down below...they….found...something...and...wanted...you...to...come down...immediately,” The guard replied as she tried to catch her breath; she must have ran all the way here.  Looking intrigued, Grandpa closed the files, and handed them back to the guard before getting up and switching back to his octoling form. “Alright, let’s head out. Lulu, home!” Grandpa stated.

I puffed up in annoyance. “No! I want to go!” I replied. Grandpa looked annoyed. “No Lulu. You are already in enough trouble. Last thing I need is you getting into more if something tries to attack us as we go down and back up,” Grandpa stated with a stern look. Bah, I wasn’t having it. “Grandpa, please! You never take me with you to see the new labs! You know I’ll stay with you! I promise! Please! If it’s important enough, shouldn’t I be allowed to know? This may be something I have to deal with even when I get to the throne so leaving me out of the loop isn’t going to help!” I whined. Grandpa just rolled his eyes. “Fine! But you DO NOT leave my sight! Understand?” Grandpa replied. Nodding quickly, Grandpa gave off a sigh as he led the way; me following behind.

Once we reached the water’s shores, guards gave us bags to put our clothes and other belongings in that were made to be water proof as they handed us specific armor crafted for underwater travel. Grandpa was also handed a trident made for him for protection for these long trips. Once ready and our bags around our shoulders, we got into the water and once Grandpa was fully ready, I climbed onto his back and held on as we went under. The guards followed afterwards.

The trip down was a bit long as we followed the rock base of the valley out till it dropped downwards. My illumination and lights brought by some of the guards as the only lights, we dove downward and downward. It was eerie, to say the least until lights from the labs below came into view to brighten up the murky waters.

As we got closer, we spotted the underwater entrance to the lab as we went under the labs through a hole in the ground and came up into an open pool inside. The caretaker of the labs was waiting for us. “Octavio! Princess Lulu! Welcome! Welcome! Ladies,” the caretaker spoke as he motioned the octolings around him to help us and the guards out.

Once everybody was dried off and dressed, the caretaker led us inside the labs to see what the scientist and archaeologist there had discovered. Looking around as I walked, the labs were pretty impressive. Large glass domes the stood as the ceiling of the place, the labs were huge as ones working here and their families were the only living inhabitants of the place. At least for the moment. We planed in later time to expand the place to become an underwater colony but for now we were still experimenting with things on how to live down here. That being said, a few homes could be spotted as well as crops, trees, and other greenery was planted to make the place more homey and survivable.

Once we reached out destination as the caretaker led us to the archaeology section of the labs, a large door open and we walked in to see octolings rushing around as a large drill was drilling downwards. “My King! Princess!” A voice called out through all the noise from the drill. It was Dr. Iso, a friend of Sako’s and head of the archaeology division down here. “Alright Iso, what do you got this time?” Grandpa spoke. “Something big sir. Something very big and it seems it’s perfectly in tack,” Dr. Iso spoke, jumping from one foot to another. “And what is it?” Grandpa questioned. “A temple sir. One from the humans. Perfectly in tack and buried under the hard rock. We had done sonar and infrared scans earlier today when we discovered it. Now we have the hydro drill drilling downwards to get to it sir,” Dr. Iso replied, quite excited by this discovery.

A temple? From readings I glanced over, temples were places of worship for humans to worship and give prayers to their gods. How interesting it was that one such temple had survived the flooding of the world and was now going to be uncovered by us. “Interesting Iso. How long before you can reach it?” Grandpa asked, quite intrigued. “A few days, week at most sir. Once we get close, the ground may get harder to dig and we may have to switch drills. But once we reach it though and perhaps get it open, we may need to air it out. Who knows what toxins or foreign bodies could be in the air that has sat for so long once it’s doors are open,” Dr. Iso replied. Nodding, Grandpa stated, “Good. See to it then. I want reports each day on this from you. When it is open, I want all who enter in suits and respirators for safety measures. Understand?” “Understood your highness. Since you are here, why not walk around. I believe I heard earlier some of the farmers here were struggling with a few things. Perhaps give them some pointers?” Iso replied.

With a nod, Grandpa and I left the room with the guards following behind as we walked back to the living district of the labs. Though as we walked, something felt strange. As if we were being followed. Looking around, I didn’t spot anything out of the ordinary but I still had the odd feeling. Once we had reached the farmers, they greeted us warmly and explained their situation. Seems they were having trouble getting the crops to breed properly so Grandpa had to show them a few trips. As he explained things, I still kept feeling like I was being watched. I didn’t know where till I heard something.

A loud tap.

No one else paid mind to it but it caught me off guard. Only logical place that would have come from was up above. Finally looking up I caught a quick glance of something passing by in a red streak.

My heart jumped.

He found us down here.

Eyes scanning the waters to see if I could spot him again, I jumped when a hand was placed on my shoulder. “Sunshine? You alright?” Grandpa spoke. Catching my heart and my breath, I replied, “Yeah. Just thought I saw something is all,” I replied. Looking concerned, Grandpa looked around before patting my shoulder and motioning me to follow. It seemed we were done here and after a bit of walking around, it was time to head home as we got back to the pool and got ourselves undressed once more. Once all ready we dove back down into the waters and headed back up.

But this time, we were being followed. At first nobody noticed till a guard sounded off. Then the guards surrounded us and Grandpa held out his trident, scanning the waters for the attacker. But said attacker wasn’t no attacker as he swam up into view for us to see.

Two guards as well as I recognized it was him as the spots on his his head fins and upper arms glowed to reveal his face. It was the first time in full I saw him. He was large. Taller than Grandpa and he even had long fins that covered his hips. He had jewelry on his ankles that matched the ones on his arms and shoulders. He was very regal looking to say the least. Letting go of Grandpa, I moved and place my hands on his trident to push it down while giving low chips to him to drop his guard. Then I did some we were all taught.

I signed “It’s him.”

Grandpa caught notion and lowered his trident as the other guards lowered their weapons. Though looking at him, a look of shock and realization was on his face which puzzled me. Till he held his hands up and signed.

“Do you know this?”

My face lit up. He knew sign language. There was a way to communicate with him.

But before I could reply back, a loud and eerie sound came rumbling up from the depths. It was gargled but horrid in sound and as soon as we heard it, he flinched and looked panicked. Giving a grow himself he dove down a bit lower from us before turning back to us and growled more. Pointing upwards, he gave hint we needed to get back to the surface and quickly. Before I could say anything to him, Grandpa grabbed onto me and as fast as he could, swam upwards all the way till we breached the water’s surface. Taking air into our lungs as the guards caught up, we were all confused. “What the fuck was that?!?” one of the guards spoke. “I don’t know but that sounded monstrous. And it seemed he knew what it was for him to be telling us to leave,” another spoke. “What about the labs?” Another spoke. “If anything were to happen, we would get contact feed,” Grandpa finally spoke, “Now calm your nerves girls and lets get back into the valley. All nodding, we followed suit as we got out of the water.

That night though I couldn’t sleep. Nightmares again. Figures. This time it was him and I as something was chasing us and finally catching us. Too shaken to go back to sleep, I decided to sneak out of the house to get some fresh air after throwing some shorts on with my anchor shirt and shoes. Since travel systems were closed for the night, I decided for a bit to walk the walls of the valley as images of him were all I could think of. Was he okay? Did he get away? Or whatever that thing was that cried out got him and I would never see him again? The darkness of the valley alone didn’t help my thoughts either so I finally decided to go top side near Gramp’s shack. Asleep, I quietly climbed the ink rails by squeezing ink out of my tentacles to spark them off. At the very top and even on the hover ship as it flew around, I watched Inkopolis in the background to calm my nerves. I spotted the Great Zapfish was flying around till she started to come closer and closer till she flew right over the valley. Spotting me, she stopped right in front of one of the flowing crates below. Squid jumping over, I landed right in front of her to greet her.

This wasn’t new. Zapfish were very intelligent and I knew she remember Grandpa and I knew she knew me. Coming close, she let me pet her before rubbing her face against mine. It was sweet. She was sweet. But so underappreciated. If the inkling only knew what they had, you would think they would take care of it better instead of making a marvel of it. They were lucky it was kind enough to stay on the towers all day.

Having her fill of pets and rubs, she pushed back a bit before shaking her head to let her antenna rattle like they did; making that common metallic sound that she did. Flying up over me and making a loop, she head back towards Inkopolis as I saw her fade some into the background.

I needed that. Something to calm me down. But as I looked out past the valley’s walls, thoughts of him crept back into my mind. In short, I found myself back on the pier; seeing if maybe I could spot him. Looking around, I had almost given up and was heading back down the pier when I heard a familiar chirp.

Perking up, I turned around and rushed down the pier; seeing him in my sights. Waiting for me at the end, he seemed happy to see me. Stopping to catch my breath, I stepped down the rocks to the edge to greet him.

“Hi,” I spoke, forgetting he couldn’t understand me. He just gave me a soft chirp, tail wagging as the water around it splashed, before signing. So cute!

“Hello. Do you understand?”

Nodding, I held my hands up and signed, “I do!”

“Marvelous. Tell me, what is your name beautiful one? What do they call such a lovely face like yours?” He signed.

I had to blush but I replied, “L-u-l-u,” before speaking, “Lulu”

Pondering it for a bit it seemed, he finally spoke, “Lu-Lu.”

Nodding, I was so happy to hear him say my name. His voice was soft and sweet. Oh how my heart skipped a beat when he said it.

“That’s right. What is yours?” I signed.

“I am King Sidon. S-i-d-o-n,” He signed.

I finally had his name. Sidon. “Si-don,” I spoke.

Sidon chirped at that. I just giggled.

“You said king? Yes?” I signed.

“Yes, and I am to presume you are a princess, correct?” Sidon signed. I nodded.

He seemed happy; that tail of his wagging so fast. My heart was beating so fast.

“Ah! Finally able to speak to you. How much I have been wanting this for the past few days. I must say it is a pleasure my dear. Yet I must apologize for my behavior from before. I’m not all above my instincts taking control. Especially when short on food,” Sidon signed.

“The pleasure is mine. And you do not need to apologize,” I replied.

He gave a soft smile. Oh, he was so handsome.

“Tell me. How do you know [old symbol: triangle first, then motion for human] sign language?” Sidon signed.

I was confused. “[old symbol: triangle first, then motion for human]? What does that mean?” I signed.

Sidon spelled it out. “H-y-l-i-a-n.”

“H-y-l-i-a-n,” I signed back. Sidon nodded.

“How do you know Hylian sign language?” Sidon signed.

“Do...you mean human sign language?” I signed back.

“Yes, the humans,” Sidon replied, seemingly eager at the notion of them.

“We adopted it a long long time ago. Scientist found scriptures of it long ago and it became normal language to use for deaf or mute people,” I explained.

“May I ask where the hylians are?” Sidon signed.

“Humans don’t...exist anymore Sidon. They haven’t for a very long time. They wiped themselves out in one big war,” I replied back.

Sidon seemed stunned. Going quite for a moment, it seemed he had to process what I had just said.

“Then...what are you?” Sidon signed.

“I’m an I-n-k-t-o-l-i-n-g. Inktoling,” I signed; first spelling it then signing squid and octopus together with a mashing motion in a quick time and then human, “I’m a hybrid of an octoling (signing octopus then human) and an inkling (signing squid then human).”

“Inktoling,” Sidon signed. I nodded.

“The one you were with? Who was he?” Sidon signed.

“My grandfather. King of my people. An octoling,” I replied.

“And the boy on the boat?” Sidon signed.

“J-o-e-y? He is my friend. An inkling,” I replied.

“So I did assume correctly your kind were squids and octopi,” Sidon signed.

I nodded. “Yes, my people, and like others, evolved from sea creatures after the humans, or hylians as you say, wipe themselves out,” I replied.

“I see,” Sidon signed before his hands went quite.

For a while we stayed quite before I signed, “Are you...a Zora?”

He perked back up. “Yes! So you know of my kind?” Sidon signed.

I nodded. “Fairy tales and legends. Children’s stories,” I replied.

“So it has been that long that we have become fables for children to enjoy. Oh, how long has it been? That I led my people to the ocean’s bottom for protection. For us to hide as the world around us changed,” Sidon signed.

“Sidon, how...old are you?” I signed; curious now about what he said.

“Quite old. Much older than you can imagine. I remember when the hylians walked the land and when the world was much different than what it is now. I’m not sure why I’ve lived so long but it seems time has stop ticking for me. Long enough that I do not remember much of my younger years,” Sidon replied.

I was shocked. “Sidon! Humans have been gone almost over 12,000 years! A lot of what we know and have has been adopted from them. And yet you say you do not recognize any of it? What do you remember of the humans?” I asked.

“I remember castles. Vast lands and luscious fields. Tall water falls. Horses, knights, swords, and shields. A war. A friend who stood by my side. One I took with me. His sword with him as well,” Sidon replied.

I was even more shocked. A time much older than what records we had. “Oh Sidon! What you speak of  sounds much older than our society knows of,” I signed.

“I see. Well, seems perhaps we are both lacking in knowledge of things. Perhaps, you would like to elaborate for me what your society is like,” Sidon signed.

“I would love to and I would love to learn more about you and your people,” I replied.

And so for the rest of the night, we talked. Way into the hours of the night until dawn started to reach out from under the water’s vast horizon. Neither one of us had noticed. Too wrapped up in each other’s company and learning about one another. It wasn’t till sunlight caught my eye that I realized we had talked so long. Springing up, I panicked.

“Oh no! If Grandpa wakes up and I’m not in bed he is going to flip! Sidon, I got to go! I’m sorry!!” I signed in panic.

“It’s fine! I don’t want you in trouble. Will I see you again though?” Sidon asked.

“I’m a bit grounded at the moment but I’ll try to see if I can sneak out and see you again. Will you wait for me here tonight?” I replied.

“Yes, of course. Try to make it back safely,” Sidon signed.

Nodding, I got up as quickly as I could and back on the pier. Before leaving I waved goodbye as he did the same before ducking back under the water. Rushing back, my heart was all in a flutter. I didn’t know what it was but something about him. Something about Sidon made me happy.

Sadly, I didn’t make it back in time.

[ohgoddard]

Fist Of Fire: Omega. 1-1.

It’s everyday.

“Omega Man, save us!”

In every voice.

“OH CHRIST, STOP HIM!”

I hear it over and over again.

 “SNAP TO IT!” My eyes open up coming into a haze and slowly beginning to focus. Its been happening a lot more to me recently. I’ve been losing focus. I turn my head to see who is shouting at me and see Castle standing over me, his cape torn and his helmet nearly burnt off. Perhaps I got knocked out… somehow. Castle’s suit, a suit of medieval armor, shone brilliantly in the autumn lights. Brilliant orange, yellows, and reds. Such a shimmer. His face, though it is obscured by his visor, looks at mine with anger. I suppose it could be warranted, given that I did it again. Although, his face could just be very strained and not angry. I don’t know why, unless-

“ARE YA GOING TO KEEP LOOKIN’ AT ME OR ARE YA GOIN’ TA HELP?!”

His thick Texan accent pierces through my ears, giving my brain that much needed wake-up call. My vision stops being the blurry mess and the image becomes clear. Castle holds a large chunk of a fallen skyscraper from falling on top of me, hsi armor definitely seeing better days. Especially his cape, which he seems to have lost. I, very painfully might I add, hop from the crater I awoke in. Readying my body for an act of strength I place both hands on the debris he held aloft and push with my flight. Soon, the concrete amalgamation moves away from Castle, and I see him fall to one knee panting. I take the rubble into the air and toss it into the sky. It will hopefully land in some lake, farmland, asshole’s lawn. All that matters is that it isn’t on top of me anymore. 

I’ll let the association take care of the fines.

“Took you… took you long enough..” Castle says in very intermittent breaths as I descend from the sky. “Yeah, sorry about that. Tinkalos really put the works into that punch.” 

My voice comes out a bit rough, but it doesn’t surprise me. After all, the punch that sent me through six buildings and almost brought one down on me was aimed at my throat. As long as it masks my real voice. I take stock of myself, seeing that my uniform is still untorn. Although, uniform is a bit much. All I wear is a long sleeved balck t-shrit, gloves, jeans, and my trademark trojan helmet. With some modifications, of course. “Speaking of the ol coot, where is he?” Castle turned to look at me, and if knight helmets from the 14th century could shoot death beams, they’d definitely be gunning for me right now. “You’re welcome by the way. Not like I  can pick up and throw buildings miles away on a whim.”

I smirk. “Not with that attitude, old man!” Castle stood up, projecting himself to his fully mighty 5 foot 7 inches of height. “Your report to the association is not going to look pretty.” Before I could blow him off in a funny and sarcastic manner, my throat pain arrived. 

“YOU’RE FAR MORE RESILIENT THAN I EXPECTED, BOY!” A moment’s reaction is all I could muster before a spear of blue light shot by me. In it, I pushed Castle to the side and tanked the shot. Good christ it hurt, like injecting your blood stream with powerade. I turned to face my assailant, and it was the same asshole who threw me. Dressed in a scientist’s lab coat and with frizzy white hair and goggles to match, Tinkalos was hovering before me on his boots, and pointing a 1950’s style raygun down. And a very tacky money bag, dollar sign and all. “I’ve got you now, you upstart!” He fired again, but this time I was ready. I ducked out its way and shot myself right at him, center mass. He must have expected this, as he flew just out of reach at the last second. He cackled and shot again, this shot of his cutting into the building behind me. I began to rush him in the air, arms stretched to punch him into the next millennia, he held his out as if to stop me.

“AH AH! Do you really want to get me? Or do you want to save the apartment building I just set on fire? TICK TOCK, HERO!” He turned and shot off into the sky, trail of dollar bills behind him. I was about to pursue when I heard the voices again. “SAVE ME OMEGA MAN!” “SAVE MY FAMILY!” “PLEASE HELP ME!” “AHH I’M ON FIRE!” On and on and on.  As if I wasn’t going to help them unless they called my name. As if I have the memory of a goldfish, or a politician that made campaign promises. Such little opinion of me. Like they’re afraid of me.

“OMEGA! Help me get these people out! Tinkalos is small potatoes.” Castle holalred as he ran into the burning building, and I could hear him running up the stairs. I could rescue this whole building right now and still catch Tinkalos. But I won’t. All it does is stop the voices for just a minute. Just a minute of quiet for my ears. It doesn’t matter if I get the crazy scientist in the end. Some other hair-brained crook will create a gun that shoots pure cake-icing or something, and instead of solving world hunger will call himself Captain Cupcake and rob the 8th street bank. I gain nothing out of hunting down the scientist.

“OMEGA ARE YOU GOING TO HELP OR WHAT?!” Castle’s voice comes from below and I come back to reality once more. Getting lost in my thoughts mid-crisis is a bad habit. Should probably see a therapist about it. I shoot towards the building and in 5 minutes, or maybe less I’m not sure, everyone and their dog is out. Castle stands next to me, looking up at the burning apartment building and sighs. “If you keep this up, they’re gonna need to change the name of the 100s to the 10s.” Whatever. The city of Chicago has done nothing for me. All it did was kill my dad.

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

“Kiara! You’re twenty minutes late! At this rate you’re giving me no choice but to fire you!”

“Yeah yeah, Sal. Where’s the next delivery?” I hop in my shitbox of a car and begin driving down to Rogers Street. I keep the radio off and the windows up. Silence is something I don’t get often. 

My clothes are simple, unassuming. I’ve got my hair up, but a few strands always get in my face. I let it hang. I’m used to a little annoyance. Every morning I wake up at 4:00 am and suit up to fight crime. At 8:00 am I go home, shower, and do the job that actually pays me at 9. I deliver pizza for the next 11 hours. And then finally for only three hours a night, I become Omega Man again. If I had my way, I’d be Omega Man for much shorter. 

“Pizza here.” The grungy apartment door opens before me, and an even grungier hand reaches out from darkness and throws a twenty at me and grabs the pizza in one gluttonous swoop. Before I could say anything, the door closed once more. I didn’t have to take this job, I could be living off a trust fund and reading a book in the west wing of a mansion along lake Erie. 

But they don’t want me. Because I’m not part of their family. And I don’t want anything from them. I want to do my own thing, on my own time. I owe nothing to nobody and nobody owes me anything. Well, except for one. 

At the stroke of 9pm, I punch my card and drive to where I sleep. I don’t call it home. Its just where I park my car and sleep. Except I don’t even sleep all that much anymore. Not since..

The voices don’t follow my schedule. They keep their own. I hear them all the time. When I knock on the door, I drown out for seconds the voices. When I sit in my car and roll up my windows, they become muffled. When I am alone in my apartment, they are unfettered in accessing my ears. My hands shakily scratch the keyhole with the key, as they do every night. Christ, I must look like a drunk to my neighbors as they walk by me. “Keep away from that black lady. Drunk, just like ‘em to be that.” I ignore them. They don’t matter. Only the voices do.

I rush into my home and close the door behind me, being careful not to slam it. I don’t want to be kicked out this early. I was hoping to keep this apartment for at least another month. Before I..

I undress, down to my underwear. I hate how vulnerable it makes me feel. I always dress in multiple layers. I never feel comfortable. I’m never in my own body. Sometimes I question if I'm trans, but I don't think that's the case. It's probably just good old imposter syndrome. Or maybe something else. I never have time to really research it. I walk over to my dresser, looking at the mirror frame above it for just a minute. It used to have a mirror. I think it broke during a move. Either that or I threw it away. I open the top drawer and take out my padded leggings and long sleeved shirt. When I put it on, my body becomes much bulkier and I looked like a large and toned buff man. A vast difference from the skinny girl I am usually. But I still feel an imposter. Ironic, for what comes next. I slip on my jeans and boots, and put on my long sleeved black shirt and gloves. Then, the helmet.

I hold it in my hands, looking at it. It looks like it should be in a museum. And it was, from what I hear. A large trojan war helmet. A black mesh is on the inside, a special material that lets me see ,breathe, and speak easily. As if it wasn’t there. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t here. Oh, can’t have those thoughts now. At Least for another month. I sit on my bed, a shitty one that folds from the wall. It carries a decent weight with it. Although, it provides no real protection for me. All that comes from what he gave me. Every time I look at it, the voices disappear for just a minute, just a little while, and I hear his voice. And I see my dad’s smile. I remember the last thing he said to me before he left me for good. “Kiara, one day you’ll wear this helmet. You’ll make me proud.” It’s the only reason I keep doing this.

I slip on the helmet and become who my father was. And who I am now. 

I am Omega Man, and like every night I let the voices overtake and guide me.

[sunken-standard]

Hey! Since you are still taking prompts, here it goes: 2. We’re going to freeze to death and 70. Call me that one more time, see what happens. Please!

So it’s not the funniest thing I’ve ever done, but there might be a laugh or two buried in there somewhere.  Set in the Vegas!Married ‘verse.

“We’re going to freeze to death”/ “Call me that one more time, see what happens”

“Loch Ness?”

Honestly, he didn’t know why sheinsisted on repeating everything in the form of a question.  "Yes.“

"Did they hire you to find themonster?”

Sherlock gave her the blankest oflooks.  "An operator of one of the tour companies hired me toprevent a saboteur.  They’ve been having trouble all around the Lochand this one has a film crew booked for next week.“

"Oh.”  She soundeddisappointed.  

“So, what do you say, thirdhoneymoon?”  Maybe the third time would be the charm and they’dactually get to consummate the marriage this time.  He suspected shewas holding out on him because he had yet to get her stupid carfixed; she didn’t seem to realize how delicate negotiations offavours could be sometimes.  That, and the one mechanic who owed himsomething had gone to Bermuda a month ago and hadn’t been heard fromsince.  He couldn’t tell her that, though; she’d probably think he’dgot swallowed up by the Bermuda Triangle or some other nonsense.  Fora scientist, she was rather prone to delusion, their one… encounterin Nevada notwithstanding.

“Shh!”  She looked around tomake sure none of the lab techs heard.

“Oh right, it’s a secret,”Sherlock said, flaring his hands and bouncing around and making hiseyes wide.  With any other man she’d be parading around, Oh, look,I have a boyfriend, isn’t he so great and I’m Molly Hooper,completely and utterly not single, totally off the market becauseI’ve got a boyfriend and we’re having all the sex ever invented. Mrs. Hudson was right about marriage changing people.

She gave him a Look and he rolled hiseyes, but didn’t say anything else because he’d made his point. Maybe he’d start wearing his wedding ring just to aggravate her.  Thecontact dermatitis would be worth it.

“And John can’t go because of thebaby?”

“No, he just hates Scotland.”

“Ah.  Well, who doesn’t?  Even theScottish think it’s miserable.”

*

“I don’t think I’ve ever been on aplane that small before.  Was it built by the Wright Brothers?”she grumbled, dragging her suitcase behind her.  She stopped shortand he almost tripped over her, busy as he was cancelling theirreturn flight and securing a spot on the Caledonian Sleeper for thetrip home.  White-knuckling it in a crop-duster was not the kind ofdanger he enjoyed, thank you.  "Tell me that’s not our driver.“

"I can, though I personally thinka marriage is built on a strong foundation of trust, the cornerstoneof which is honesty in all things,” he said, taking in theclient—or whomever the client had sent—standing in front of a vanwith a cartoon Loch Ness Monster on the side holding a ripped pieceof cardboard that said SURELOCK HOOMES on it.  

Eh.  He’d seen worse.  Usually only oncoffee cups from Starbucks.

“He looks like GroundskeeperWilly.  You think he brought us a haggis?”

“Hope not.  I’d murder for a friedMars Bar, though.”

*

“Oh, and do keep an eye out forthe White Lady.  They say misfortune befalls whoever hears ‘erwails,” the innkeeper said, handing over the room key.

He made a mental note to check the roomfor hidden speakers, blacklights, and poorly-disguised secretpassages.

“Is the ghost included in the roomfee, or is something we have to pay extra for?”  He gave thewoman behind the desk one of his plastic smiles and didn’t wait foran answer before picking up his suitcase and heading for the stairs.

“Londoners.  And they say we’recheap,” he heard her grumble as they walked away.

*

“Molly, quit moaning,” hesaid, groping behind himself to give her a shake or a poke orsomething to wake her up.  Honestly, he felt no sympathy for her, hetold her not to eat that second mutton pie.  His hand came intocontact with her bum, and oh, that was nice.

“Get my car fixed first,” shegrumbled sleepily, the last word overlapping with another moan thatmost certainly didn’t come from her.  "Did you just…?“

"Wasn’t me,” he said,supremely annoyed that he’d missed something in his search.  

“Do you think it’s the WhiteLady?” she asked, pushing herself up on her elbows.

“Honestly Molly, you’re woman ofscience.”

“'There are more things in Heavenand Earth—’”

“Yes, yes, thank you Hamlet.” The moaning turned to weeping.  "Right, that’s it,“ hesaid, throwing back the covers.  

"What are you doing?”

“Finding those damn speakers.  Andthen I’m taking them down to the front desk.”

Molly groaned and flopped back onto herstomach, covering her head with the pillow.

*

“Oh!  I see something! Binoculars!”  Molly said, yanking him along with the binocularsaround his neck closer to the side of the boat.  They were supposedto be looking for places the saboteurs could moor a boat, but Mollyhad other ideas.

“Driftwood or wave?” heasked, bending closer than was strictly necessary to give the strapof the binoculars enough slack to let him breathe; he was sorelytempted to slip an arm around her waist under the pretence of helpingher maintain her balance on the rolling seas (which, truthfully, wasabout as choppy as a bathtub).

“Driftwood,” she saiddisappointedly after a few moments, letting the binoculars thud backagainst his chest.

He surreptitiously made another tickmark in his notebook as he gave the top of her head a little pat toconsole her.

Driftwood ||||

Wave ||

Reflection/ trick of light |||| ||

Animal |

Maybe she’d get lucky and spot a deadbody; at least that would be interesting.

*

“So I guess I can cross 'low speedboat chase’ off the bucket list,” Molly joked, hunkered behindone of the vinyl-upholstered bench seats.

“Just keep your head down,darling. Don’t give them a target,” Sherlock said, pulling herhead against his chest.  It wasn’t strictly necessary, but at leastthis way they wouldn’t get a look at her face if they had binoculars.

“Why did you call me darling?  Younever call me darling.  Is that some kind of code?”

Of course she’d have to ask stupidquestions.  "It’s a term of endearment.  Mary calls Johndarling.“

"And we are not Mary and John.”

“The dynamic is close enough.  I’mthe smart, deadly one and you’re the short, doctor-y one.”

“I can think of at least sixdifferent ways to kill you in the next 24 hours that no one wouldever question as murder,” she said.  "And at least a dozenmore when we get home.“

"Now’s not really the time forforeplay, darling.”

“Call me that one more time, seewhat happens,” she gritted out.

“Is that a threat or a promise,dar—” he didn’t get to finish the thought as a stray shotapparently hit just the right spot on the tour boat’s gas tank tomake it explode.

*

“We’re going to freeze to death,”Molly after they’d struggled ashore.  "Hypothermia, just likeDyatlov Pass.  It’s like some kind of crypid-hunter curse. Paradoxical undressing, you’re doing it already!“

"Nothing paradoxical about it, mycoat weighs more than you do now.  Probably want to get rid of thatjumper, yourse—”

“Do you hear that?” Mollyfroze.

Oh shit.  He looked around forsomewhere to take cover; their would-be killers were coming back tofinish the job.  

“Over there!”  He pointed towhat looked to be an archway carved into the bedrock under thecastle, long over-grown with vines and brush.

*

Molly shouted as two red eyes glintedat them from the darkness.  "It’s real, I told you it’s real,“she said, clinging onto his arm while leaning closer to get a betterlook.  He got the feeling it was less out of fear and more becauseshe was ready to use him as a human shield/ monster snack if she hadto.

"It’s a prop,” he said,holding the lighter (next time she complained about his smoking, heneed only remind her that carrying it had saved her life) higher toreveal the faint outline of a metal framework with a (rather crudely)sculpted head.

“Is that a… submarine?”Molly asked, looking at the rusted heap at the centre of the cavern.

“Hardly surprising, consideringthe tourist industry,” he murmured, noticing the moulderingskeleton wearing what looked to be an old Royal Navy uniform in thedriver’s seat.  Oh, what he wouldn’t give to have a proper torch anddry clothing…  He’d simply have to come back later.  "Come on,I think that’s probably a stairway that leads up to the castle.“

*

"You were wrong.  We’re not goingto freeze to death, we’re going to die in a labyrinth underneath acastle in the Highlands,” he said, completely unimpressed whilelooking at the point where the passage split in three directions. They all looked equally disused, no wear patterns on the floor ordrafts or other signs to indicate which one led to the surface.

“Oh no, we’ll still die ofhypothermia long before hunger, thirst, or lack of oxygen gets us,”Molly said.  Stripping to their pants hadn’t done much to providewarmth, but at least they were drier now.  "If video games havetaught me anything, one way leads to treasure, one way ends in a pitof certain death, and one is a shortcut to the surface.  Go left.“

"Left.”

“People always go right becauseeveryone’s right-handed—”

“John—”

“Is a freak of nature.  Peoplealways go right, so that one is the death pit, and the middle oneseems like it would be too easy, so they ignore it because reversepsychology works, so it has to be the treasure.  We go left and weget to the surface,” she said, tugging him forward towards theleft-hand path.

“I think my brain’s alreadyshutting down because that actually made some kind of sense,” hesaid, then stopped when something wedged in a crack in the stonecaught his eye.  

*

“If only I had a working cameraright now,” Molly said, looking him up and down.  On one hand,it was rather good luck they’d surfaced in the back of a storeroomunderneath the castle’s gift shop, because that meant they didn’thave to wait any longer for warm, dry things to put on.

On the other hand, it was a gift shopin the Scottish Highlands, so those warm, dry things consistedof argyle socks, kilts, Fair Isle jumpers and, of course, theubiquitous novelty t-shirts.  At least, for him; Molly was too smallfor most of what they had to offer, so she ended up in a plushone-piece Nessie pyjama-costume-thing.  She wasn’t the only one thatwished for a working camera.

At least they didn’t actually have topay for it; the head of the museum seemed rather excited about thering he’d found, something about the Knights Templar or somesuch,went on about it the whole way back to the inn as she gave them alift.

*

“Am I supposed to pee in this now,or once I’m in the water?” Molly asked, doing a weird kind ofinterpretive dance, presumably to make the wetsuit more comfortable.

“Don’t pee in it at all, it’s ahire,” he said.  With any luck, he’d be the only one in thewater this time; hers was just a precaution against another possiblecase of hypothermia.  Not that he hadn’t enjoyed sharing a tepidshower with her or the naked cuddle under the electric blanket thatfollowed, but he’d rather repeat those experiences when they weren’tflirting with multiple organ failure.  And maybe when his externalgenitalia didn’t look like someone had aimed a cartoon shrink-ray atit.

*

“Well, I think that should aboutdo it,” he said once he’d removed the mouthpiece and taken offthe mask.  The saboteurs would be in for a nasty surprise when theytried to abscond in their boat come the dawn, and they’d be met witha fleet of the remaining tour boats if they tried to swim for it. The mastermind of the original insurance scam was already in policecustody.

Molly started the boat (and really,he’d have to find out where, exactly, she’d learned how to handleone, probably from an ex-boyfriend or something tedious, consideringshe’d grown up inland) and he began to get himself out of the scubaapparatus.  A soft splash off to his right caught his attention andhe turned his head, already on guard in case they weren’t as in theclear as he thought they’d been.

He blinked, his brain obviously notcorrectly processing the information his eyes were sending it.  Along, slender neck with a head the size of a rugby ball rose from thewater at the side of the boat; it turned its face first one way, thenthe other to look at him.  The glowing red eyes on either side of itshead were like a rabbit and probably afforded it both low-light andpanoramic visio—what was he saying?!  It was obviously anotherprop, one of the other boat captains taking the piss, probablytesting something for the film crew that was due to show in a fewdays’ time.  He took a step closer and peered at it, trying todetermine if it was made of foam rubber or silicone, where themechanical points of articulation were, listening for hidden motors;truly, it looked to be a marvel of craftmanship even in the low lightof dusk.  It even smelled like an animal.  

He reached out to touch it and itreared back, nearly tipping the boat and sending him sprawling in theprocess.  He looked to Molly, clinging desperately to the wheelinside the cabin, then sprang up to look around for evidence ofanother submersible.  

“Just a wave,” he said outloud, trying to reassure Molly.  Well, mostly himself.

*

“Thought you were dying for one ofthese,” Molly said from where she was reclined on the bed injust a dressing gown.  She held the fried Mars Bar out to him when hesat next to her to take off his shoes.

“Not feeling very hungry, thankyou,” he said, taking note of the pale expanse of her thigh, butstill too shaken by the experience on the boat to attempt anything.

“Didn’t think you were the type toget seasick,” she remarked before taking another bite, thenmaking a noise as warm chocolate and nougat dribbled onto her chin.

He ignored it, and the way she gatheredit with her fingertip and sucked it into her mouth.  "You reallydidn’t see anything?“ he hedged.

"No!  For the last time, I didn’tdrive us into a rock or a log or whatever it is you keep implying.  Imean, I appreciate that you’re trying to be nicer about thingsbecause we’re married and… staying that way… but really,it’s the same as making an accusation, so next time you might as welljust come out and say it.”

He opened his mouth to refute herstatement, but thought better of it; probably best to keep to himselfwhat he’d seen.  She’d most likely want to check his head for lumpsor worse, start moping because she hadn’t seen it.  He would have hiscrisis of logic all on his own, quietly, in the shower.  It was justa Baskerville situation; the explanation was there, he just needed tothink through it.

Of course, no explanation wasforthcoming; nothing had shown on the sonar and there had been nobubbles or other signs of… anything.  

He stared at the ceiling long afterMolly draped her very naked self over him and fell asleep (and hereally wasn’t sure which of them was more disappointed in hisapparent lack of interest, but he was going to assume that he couldback-burner getting her car fixed as a priority, now); the Loch NessMonster wasn’t real.  And neither were ghosts, even if he hadn’tfound the damn speakers or the hidden projector that made theflickering woman by the window.

One thing was for certain: he was nevertaking another case in Scotland.  And he was never taking Molly onanother honeymoon.

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday,  geeky-girl-394!

August 11 - Tasertooth, very smutty soulmates please, for @geeky-girl-394

Written by @celiaequus

Stupid Avengers and their stupid overprotectiveness.

Darcy had been dying to get to know the mutants staying in Stark Tower while their mansion was being rebuilt (again), but so far she’d only met the ladies.  It was great to have a well-attended girls’ night for once, but she wanted to meet the guys, too.

It had nothing to do with the fact that she’d seen pictures and they were all, in a word, hot.

She tried hanging out in all the common areas of the tower, but sometimes her security pass acted up, and JARVIS was being mysteriously silent about why that was.  Darcy had blocked him from the movie marathons they shared.  It didn’t matter; he probably had all the data in his head anyway.  But snarking about bad CGI and huge plot holes was their thing, and he was banned until he `fessed up.

Since movie marathons were no longer fun, and since Darcy now no longer had access to the Avengers’ gym because the X-Men were there, she split her time between working and jogging.

And now that Jane was at some conference thingy only scientists could go to, Darcy was stuck running around the block.  At least she had her iPod.

“Miss Lewis,” JARVIS said, interrupting her tunes.  Seriously, was no tech sacred anymore?

“Not listening,” she panted.

“There is… danger,” JARVIS replied, pretending her couldn’t hear her.  Or maybe he really couldn’t?  Nah, Stark would’ve found a way.  “Cross the road as soon as you can.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Darcy said.  She leaned against a tree.  “What kind of danger?”

“I cannot say, Miss Lewis.  But you must cross the road.”

“Now!” Stark interrupted.  Darcy jumped.  He was hacking her iPod, too?  But he really sounded worried.  His harsh tone spurred her into movement, and she bolted into the traffic.

In hindsight, she should’ve checked both ways and not just listened to the king of bad decisions.

A car honked loudly, and Darcy froze in horror as she saw a four-wheel drive headed straight for her, too fast to stop in time.

Someone slammed into her bodily, and they fell onto the sidewalk.  He went down first, rolled them over, and Darcy looked up at the guy hovering above her.  Her personal hero.

Strangers started asking if she was okay, and she reassured them as her rescuer knelt up.  Half the buttons on his shirt had torn off.  No, popped off, going by his muscles.

“Oh hot reservoir, this is my jelly,” she said, brain addled by capital-a Abs.

Damn it, Tumblr, she thought.

“I’ve always wondered what that meant,” he said.  Darcy met his dark eyes, and she held out her hand for a shake.  The concerned strangers drifted away when it looked like Darcy was fine.

Instead of a mere handshake, the guy helped her up like she weighed nothing.

“You need to spend more time online, it sounds like,” she said.

“And you need to be more careful crossing roads,” he said, raising an eyebrow.  “I’d had to lose my soulmate so soon after meeting her.”

“Your soulmate…?  Oh my God.”  Her eyes widened.  “You said my words!”

“Victor Creed,” he said, squeezing her hand.  “You are?”

“Darcy Lewis,” she said.

“I’ve heard of you.  You work for Jane Foster.”

Darcy’s blood ran cold.

“Why’ve you heard of me?” she asked sharply.

“I’ve been staying at Stark Tower,” he said, and he smiled.  Darcy saw his gleaming white fangs.  “I’m the mutant they call Sabretooth.”

Things started to add up.

“I think the others have been trying to stop us from meeting,” she said.  “That would explain… wait, so JARVIS and Tony Stark sent me out into dangerous traffic just to avoid meeting you?  Okay, that’s a new level of stupid, and I’m tearing both of `em a new one when we get back.”

“They told you to cross the road?” Victor asked, his expression turning stormy.

“Yeah, the morons,” she said.  “Have any of them seen your mark?  `Cause they all know my writing.”

“That explains Barton’s comment when he saw it,” Victor grumbled.  “I want you to myself for awhile.  Come have lunch with me?”

Darcy smiled softly.

“I’d like that,” she said.  “I’ve gotta thank you for saving my life.”

“No thanks necessary,” he said, and he bent down to give her the best damn kiss of her life.

The only one Darcy trusted to be sane was Sam, so she texted him during lunch to ask him to call off the spies.  She’d met her soulmate, and she was not letting him go.  He’d saved her life, and she was super pissed with the others.  Sam agreed.  JARVIS sent Darcy an apology, and offered to loop the cameras if she and Victor wanted to hide until tomorrow.

After asking Victor, she confirmed that yes, help would be appreciated.

Separate beds were out of the question.  Darcy wanted to lick those abs; her tongue itched for it.  Even before she discovered they were soulmates, she’d wanted to get to know the man who’d rescued her.  Now they could bond, too.

“I wanna make it official,” Victor said gruffly as they took the elevator to the second floor.  “I’ve screwed up enough; I’m not bonding with you until we’ve made vows, or whatever people do.”

“But we can still have sex, right?” Darcy said.  “I mean, you asked for one bed.  Unless you just want somewhere private to hang out?”  Her heart sank with disappointment, but she’d cope.

“No, I want sex,” he said.  “Just not bonding.  Don’t worry, I’ve got protection.”

“And I’m on the pill,” Darcy said.  “So we’re doubly safe.”

They didn’t have time to explore their room.  Darcy immediately stripped off her sweaty exercise clothes.  Victor’s pupils enlarged as he undressed, his eyes raking over Darcy’s body like a predator.  She could understand how he’d gotten his name.

She understood even more when he literally pounced on her.  They toppled onto the bed, and Darcy mewled as he nipped her neck and licked his way down her chest and over her breasts.

He hauled her up to the pillows and wrenched her legs apart.  Darcy was breathless as his tongue dipped into her repeatedly, until he was laving her pussy with long strokes.  She clutched the sheets and came with a cry, his sideburns rubbing against her inner thighs.  He continued to eat her out until she weakly pushed his head away.

“Okay… I need, like, a fifteen minute break now,” she said.  That’d felt like a whole workout in itself.  Maybe she wouldn’t need the gym anymore?

“I’ve got all night to make you scream my name,” Victor said, lounging beside her.

Darcy’s head spun.

[kalta79]

Being Human

Summary: Shalua scams Rude when they first meet, and romance ensues.

Rude walked into the WRO laboratories with two discs in his hand, looking for someone who could correlate the information about Geostigma on them to make sure it could never come back. He wanted to hurry up and get back to his lunch break. There was a new bar that Reno had found, and they were planning to check it out. He finally saw a woman staring intently at two screens. He walked over to her and cleared his throat.

“Excus…” Rude got his wind knocked out of him as the woman suddenly elbowed him in the chest with some force.

The woman spun around quickly with an embarrassed look on her face as she saw Rude. “Oh, I’m sorry about that, but you shouldn’t sneak up on people!”

Rude waved his hand to indicate he was okay as he got his breath back. Then he noticed she only had one eye, but she was still pretty.

“What do you want?” the woman asked, returning her attention to the monitors.

“I need the information on these two discs correlated.” Rude explained as he picked them up off the floor.

“I’m busy, can you come back later?”

“I need this done as soon as possible.”

The woman sighed in frustration. “Tell you what, I’ll make you a bet. We’ll arm wrestle and if you win, I’ll do it. If I win…”

“I’ll take you out to dinner.” Rude interrupted her, intrigued by her offer. Why would a lady scientist think she could out arm-wrestle him?

“Fine.” She typed a few keys on the keyboard and the movement on the screens stopped.

Sitting down at a small table facing each other, Rude made a big deal of flexing his muscles before he put his elbow on the table. The woman just quietly sat down and put her elbow on the table as well, grasping Rude’s hand with a surprisingly firm grip.

“You can quit now and I won’t hold it against you.” Rude said, a slight uncertainty nagging him as he felt the strength in her grasp.

The woman grimly smiled and shook her head in refusal of his offer. “Ready when you are.”

Rude left the lab moments later, rubbing his arm. Once the woman was sure he was gone, she uncovered her arm and patted the machinery.

“Thanks again, old friend.” she said before she resumed her experiment in peace.

                                        ***

Rude was almost to the door of the WRO headquarters when he heard his name called. Turning around, he saw Reeve walking towards him.

“I thought that was you. What are you doing here?” Reeve asked.

“We had some information that needed to be correlated properly.” Rude answered.

Reeve noticed him rubbing his arm. “Did Shalua trick another one?”

“Huh?”

“She’s one of our top scientists, one eyed with a bionic arm.”

“Bionic arm?”

“Yeah, sometimes she’ll have it covered, and tricks people into accepting arm wrestling bets to get what she wants.”

Rude frowned. He didn’t appreciate being made a fool, but a thought occurred to him. “What else can you tell me about her?”

When Rude finally arrived at the bar, Reno was on his second drink and his first course.

“What took you so long?” Reno asked.

“Making plans for my dinner date.” Rude replied as he sat down in their booth.

Reno almost spit out his drink. “Date? Who?”

“Some scientist over at WRO.”

Reno shrugged. Brainy intellectual types never interested him. Full breasts and long legs did. Like that blonde drinking a cocktail at the bar.

“Enjoy your dinner, I’m going to finish enjoying my lunch.” Reno stood up and threw some gil down to cover his part of the bill, then approached the blonde. After a few moments, she and the brunette next to her stood up, and Reno paid their bill before they left with him.

                                        ***

Shalua was in a hurry to leave the lab and go home so she could sleep and come back in the morning. After she signed out and headed outside, she heard her name called. Surprised, she turned to see the man she arm-wrestled with earlier walking over to her, holding a bouquet in his hands. When he got close enough, she saw that it was poppies. How did he know her favorite flower?

“You ready for dinner?” he asked as he handed her the bouquet.

“What?” Shalua was totally confused.

“That’s what you get for winning the bet earlier, remember? I take you out to dinner.”

“Oh!” Shalua blushed. “Don’t worry about it. Enjoy your night.”

“No, you won fair and square, and I’ll stick to my word.” He held out his arm for Shalua to take.

She stared at him and then blushed more as she decided to come clean and send him on his way. “I cheated, the bet’s off. You don’t have to take me out to dinner.”

“Cheated?” The man seemed surprised.

“Yes. I’m half-machine, see?” She exposed her bionic arm.

“Well, then, you can take me out to dinner to make up for it.”

“You’re not leaving til I agree to dinner, are you?”

“Nope.”

Shalua sighed and took his arm, hoping she could get this ‘date’ over with quickly.

                                        ***

Rude took them to a little bistro. Shalua felt a bit silly being there in her lab coat and her hair was probably messed up from work as well. Everyone else was dressed nicely, including the man with her.

“What’s your name?” Shalua asked, realizing she didn’t know.

“Rude.”

“Rude?” Shalua said in surprise as she looked over the menu. What kind of name was that?

“And you’re Shalua Rui, one of the best scientists at WRO.” Rude said. “Reeve told me all about you.”

Just then the waiter showed up to take their order. After he left, Rude asked Shalua about her work. She was still talking when their food arrived. While they were eating, Shalua used the time to collect her thoughts. It had been so long since she had talked ‘shop’ with someone outside the lab. Or about anything for that matter. And he actually seemed to understand some of her experiments, or at least the basic principles behind them. She tried to refuse dessert, but Rude insisted. After the bill was paid, Rude walked her home.

                                        ***

A week later, Reno and Rude were at the new bar again for their lunch break.

“So how are things going with that…what’s her name again?” Reno asked.

“Shalua Rui. Things are going fine.” Rude replied.

“She must have other remarkable talents besides science. You’ve seen her just about every night for the past week.” Reno suggested with his usual innuendo.

.

“A gentleman never tells.” Rude said primly as he took a sip of his beer.

“You haven’t had sex with her yet? What in the hell’s wrong with you? Why not?”

Just then, the blonde and brunette that Reno finished his lunch break with last week came over to their booth and threw their drinks in Reno’s face before storming off.

“That’s why not.” Rude said, not bothering to hide his smile as he took another sip of his beer.

Reno gave him a dirty look before going into the bathroom to clean himself up.

                                        ***

Shalua was working through her lunch break, grateful for some peace and quiet with everyone else on their lunch break. Ever since that first dinner date, Rude had been hanging outside the building every night when she left work. There had been nonstop gossip and pointed remarks about her ‘hot new man’, so much so that it was hard to work sometimes. And she liked being at the lab surrounded by other pieces of machinery like her. Shalua wasn’t even sure why she just didn’t tell Rude to take a hike. She had figured out by his outfit that he was a Turk, and she had never forgotten that it was Turks who kidnapped her beloved sister. But as she was getting to know Rude, things were getting confused for her.

                                        ***

Two weeks later, they were having a lunch date at the park, and as they were sitting on a bench, eating their ice cream, a frisbee that some nearby kids were playing with accidentally hit Rude in the head as he was leaning towards his cone, and he got his face full of ice cream. Shalua burst out laughing as Rude wiped his face and glasses off, then threw the remainder of his ice cream cone in the trash. Shalua finished her cone and they got up to finish walking the trail, throwing her cone away first.

When he dropped her off back at home, she invited him inside. Shalua felt uncomfortable since she hadn‘t been with anyone since she quit being a whole human, so she decided to lighten things up. She told Rude to sit anywhere he wanted while she made them some tea. As soon as he sat down, wondering if he should leave since she seemed so nervous, she grabbed his sunglasses off his face.

“Hey, what are you doing? Gimme those back ‘Lua!” Rude exclaimed, shooting up out of the chair and trying to regain possession of them.

Shalua held them behind her back with her human hand while holding him at bay with her bionic arm. “I thought so at the park, but just wanted to be sure…you look awfully cute without them.”

“Cute? I’ll show you cute!” Rude chased her around the living room, finally catching her by the entrance to the kitchen.

Half-trapped by his arms, Shalua held the sunglasses in her bionic arm, stretching it away from him as far as she could, and kissed him as her last diversion. She succeeded better than she had planned, they were both diverted by their reactions to that kiss.

Before either of them knew it, Rude had picked her up in his arms and she was directing him to her bedroom. Once they were on her bed, they started undressing each other. Shalua’s nerves sizzled as she ran her hands over his well-muscled body as he ran his lips over her body. Rude was gentle and thorough, and as they in each other‘s arms afterwards, Shalua suddenly sat up.

“What is it?” Rude asked, concerned.

“You still never got your glasses back.” Shalua said with a smug smile.

“I got something better.” Rude pulled her back down to him with a matching smug smile and kissed her, and they soon forgot all other matters.

                                        ***

The next day at work, Reeve was just about to enter the laboratory when he heard an explosion. Rushing in, he saw Shalua with the fire extinguisher in her hands, putting out a fire in the centrifuge.

“What happened?” Reeve asked her.

Shalua whirled around and sprayed Reeve in the face with the extinguisher and then blushed when she saw her boss’ face covered with CO2. “Oh! I’m sorry, Reeve.”

Reeve coughed. “What happened?” he demanded again.

“I’m not sure, I…” Shalua started to say.

“You’ve been distracted all day, Rui.” One of the other scientists interrupted.

“Okay, clean up here, I’ll be back.” Reeve left, wiping his face off.

When he got back to his office, Reeve turned on the security monitor and accessed the laboratory cameras to replay the time just before the explosion. He saw Shalua filling up vials properly, but instead of putting them into the centrifuge, she just stared off into the distance and started smiling, then started pouring the chemicals into centrifuge and walked away, and then the explosion happened.

                                        ***

Reno and Rude were trying out yet another new bar on their lunch break, and Rude was distracted as well. Reno watched in disbelief as Rude started pouring his beer into the pretzel bowl and started eating the pretzels.

“What in the hell’s wrong with you today?” Reno peered closer at Rude. “It’s that Shalua chick, ain’t it?”

“I told you, a gentleman never tells.” Rude reminded him.

“Uh-huh. You’re hopeless, you know that, right?” Reno said.

                                        ***

A week later, Rude and Shalua were back at her place, enjoying each other’s company after dinner. As she clung to him when she felt him enter her, she realized why she had kept seeing him despite the fact he was a Turk. She felt human when she was with him, not just half a machine.

After they enjoyed mutual satisfaction, Shalua curled herself against him, and Rude’s arms automatically encircled her. Having her in his arms suddenly made Rude aware of why Reno had said he was hopeless. He was a Turk in love.

[dexi-green]

Spiderman: Homecoming thoughts

Spoilers!!!

·the 60s spider-man theme during the marvel logo ❤ ·i loved the “friendly neighborhood spider-man” scene. Him getting back the bike and leaving a note, the lady and the churro. Loved it. ·"aye, you're spider-man from YouTube. Do a flip!“ And he does the flip for him. ·Dad Tony. Annoyed Uncle Happy. ❤ Seriously. Like everyone who got mad that "tony is taking over” i hope you went back and shame deleted your posts. ·pepper cameo, like yooo, so are her and tony back together…? And the fact that tony bought an engagement ring for pepper all the way back in 2008 c: ·of course, Stan Lee cameo. Pretty early in the film and funny as always. ·the ATM robbery and peter tries to figure out a cool line to start the fight. ·all the times he falls on his face. ·the iron spider outfit. I’m so mad peter didn't wear it at all. But hopefully in infinity war. ·Flash being a more modern, honest depiction of a bully. Just a ‘flash'y rich kid, not necessarily a jock or anything. Honestly everyone being more honest and modern depictions of high school kids. No makeup on Michelle, the awkward school news casters, still playing with legos, playing outdated (but not really because it had to be filmed in like 2011-2) cliche celebrity videos for the students in class, jokes like penis parker, Seniors hanging out with sophomores and not just other upperclassmen. Not the weird stereotyped stuff we get in a lot of other films and media. ·Captain America videos + 2nd after credits scene. I love when he motioned to the side in the video to the gym teacher but Hannibal was on the other side. That little thing made me laugh. Also we left the theater and then came back for the last after credit scene and i felt so betrayed. ·Chess! ·For whatever reason near the end i kept expecting the credits to roll, but then there was another scene which was a delight for me. Maybe i’m just bad at knowing when movies end. ·no buildings so he has to run and cant use his web shooters. ·Ned Leeds. The guy in the chair. ·Learning Curve. I love that there were consequences to turning off the training wheels protocol. He didn't just get a whole bunch of cool features and became amazing. He turned it off and he messed up. He didn't know how to use things and it got him hurt. They were put there for a reason. It showed that Tony planned on training Peter for a while. All of the features Tony put on the suit to seemingly “limit” peter, were put their for his protection and come in handy later. The tracker allows Tony to save him after the parachute thing. The “baby monitor” lets him find out the identities of the arms dealers. Its just like actual parents and teenagers. Teens think the parent is being unfair and just trying to stop them from having a good time (and sometimes it is just unfair) but its for their own good. ·Learning curve again. He also just didn't always make the best decisions, even if things turned out alright. Like think about. Every time stuff got destroyed it was his fault. He tried to stop the arms deal under the bridge and ended up being dragged down the street. He kept the piece of alien tech, which caused the accident at the Washington monument. He tried to bust the arms deal on the ferry and it got cut in half. He tried to stop vulture again and crashed a plane. Which i think is actually great because remember vultures origin story of being the guy who has to clean up after that type of stuff. But anyway, Peter makes mistakes and messes up. He doesn't even have a cool sequence of transforming into spider-man, he has to undress in an alley. Like he isn't this effortlessly cool and talented superhero which is so incredibly true to the character of Peter Parker. ·michelle tells their teacher the Washington monument was built by slaves. ·Martin Starr ·Zendaya ·this entire cast really. Even Karen is Jennifer Connelly!!! ·Peter bonding with Karen. ·OMFG Aunt May! ESPecially at the end. Like i cannot wait to see her reaction more in depth. ·we got passing comments about the spider bite and uncle Ben. Which is fine, they basically skipped the first half hour of the other first spider-man movies, but i did wish that we would've gotten a flashback or something small. So i’m just going to put this out there for marvel, flashback to uncle ben (or possibly peter’s parents/father) in infinity war or something for just a hot second, maybe even just a picture of him maybe? and the actor, Tobey Maguire. I’ll leave it to you. ·Tony just wants to clean up his messes but he cant even do that without there also being a problem. He just cant win. But i guarantee that if Tony was there when damage control told them they were taking over, he probably would've tried to hire those guys instead of just telling them to beat it. Also… Vulture just trying to support his family and all, and we don’t know what his life was truly like before damage control stepped in. But… He seems to speak like hes still on rough times but…look at liz’s house.like it seems like he got money. ·i think its liz’s drawing of the avengers at the beginning. · When they are in the car, driving to homecoming, and Vulture is slowly figuring out who Peter is (kinda like the dinner scene with the green goblin in the first spider-man) and when he figures it out, the green from the street light is on his face, and just...symbolism. ·i think i missed the part where Harrison was dressed up instead of tom. Did they actually put that in because or maybe i just cant remember the scene right now. I know it was sometime when he had the decathlon jacket on. I think it was when he was stuck in the damage control facility. But for some reason my mind is blurring it. He was just running. ·when tony asks peter to stay at the avengers facility i kinda got the feeling that while tony was proud of peter for knowing what he wants he was kinda sad to know he wasn't going to be staying. Especially after what happened in civil war. He obviously thought it all out and planned things. Kinda like after Avengers, he kinda got excited and attached to everyone, got them their rooms in the tower and all. So kinda sad… · the nod towards Miles Morales and just Donald Glover in general is great. I wont lie that i would've loved more of him and maybe an actual cameo from miles but this was great. Maybe in another film.. · “Come on man, i got ice cream in here.” ·the principal is a descendant, i think grandson, of Jim Morita and played by the same guy, Kenneth Choi!!! Yaaaaasss! Like no wonder this guy is still playing these Cap videos in the school even if he is “technically a criminal” ·Bruce Banner and Howard Stark pictures in the school 😊 ·he isn't driven by romance. Saving or wooing Liz isn't his main goal in the story. There isn't even a kiss (like was teased in the trailer). ·i kind of wish instead of scorpion, the next villain tease would've been for doc ock, or sandman or green goblin but that’s purely personal preference. A black cat hint would've been cool as well, but i understand why they didn't do that. They did hint at the sinister six so they kinda did hint at doc ock and them. ·the video diary bits ❤ and just how well it fits into civil war like a puzzle piece, not just tacked onto the end. · I know some people complained about too many references to other parts of the marvel universe but I liked it. I love references and easter eggs personally, but also this is suppose to be an cinematic universe. everything is suppose to be connected. Why wouldn’t we see descendants of characters, or hear about the sokovia accords in class, or have pictures of notable inventors/scientists in schools, etc.etc.

·”Oh shes not playing mary jane.” “My friends call me MJ.” OMG fight me marvel!

·seriously i did not see the twist coming. Vulture is liz’s dad… Whaaattt? Honestly i loved it. Plus mixed girl representation✊and i like the timing of it. Peter really just defaults back into normal high schooler life. Is so down about what happened and then boom! Cant escape it. ·when the vulture is stealing stuff he has like…a duffel bag. Like they aren’t seemingly stealing that much stuff. Its not like they kill the drivers and steal the entire truck…they just want a little bit. ·"im trying to save you!“ Like yo…almost cried. Seriously. I wanted to scream at the screen. stop! Let him help! Listen to him! I was freaking out. ·"i wanted you to be better.” I know they showed this in the trailer but it was just as impactful this time round. Same with the “if you're nothing without the suit you shouldn't have it.” Like i cannot handle these Tony feelings. ·honestly the part at the end when he is looking at the reflection of himself, half masked, and the line from tony is echoed was…kinda cheesy. But it was still pretty impactful. Especially considering tom holland’s acting at that part. Nearly crying and yelling for help and wiggling around under the concrete, just so down on himself… almost made me cry. ·Just an overall amazing representation of “with great power, comes great responsibility”. There are consequences to his actions, he isn’t just amazing right from the start, he makes mistakes, and has low points and although he doesn't grapple too much with whether or not he wants to be spider-man (he pretty much always picks spider-man over anything else) he still struggles with how to do it and how to balance it. And its important to him that he does a good job, not just because its cool to be a superhero but because he feels the need to. He obviously doesn't brag about it and even chooses to not even come out as an official avenger. He knows where his heart is, where his home is, and by the end of the film he is pretty sure on where his responsibility lies. He realizes that there are big avenger level problems going on, but there are also small jobs to be done. Helping the little guy. He turns down a cool new suit, staying in a facility with the avengers, his own safety and life, to help out those in need.

[writerslovesmut]

ReaderXRick, Evil Rick.

trigger warnings, forced sex. My version of rick differs slightly from the norm. Enjoy. 

“Fuck!” you scream, throat aching and voice almost gone from the hours of pleasure you have been partaking in. At this moment, you climax. Your back arches in sheer pleasure and your nails dig into your partners back. “Oh baby, God dammit I’m so close.” He exclaims, picking up the pace of his thrusts in and out of your wetness. Your hips grind against his, in an attempt to make him come hard and fill you to the brim.

You fucking love this man, as much as you don’t want to admit it. The look of ecstasy bestows his face and you feel a sense of pride well over you. You make him feel good. In this moment, you’re his world. No man has made you feel this way before, let alone a man of his age. At this point, his age didn’t matter. He was fit, flexible and had more stamina than most men your age.

He lay on top of you, grabbing your waist, shoving himself deeper inside of you. “ah, fuck your pussy is just what-i-need.” His last three words break by his forceful thrusts, filling you with his hot liquid. His head fits perfectly in your neck. You raise a hand to run your fingers through his grey blue hair. His skin felt so soft on yours. You barely notice signs of age when you lay naked together.

“I love coming deep inside of your tight pussy, baby.” His voice is music to your ears. You can listen to him talk for hours and not say a word. He pushes himself up from his position and begins to dress. “I have an errand to run in another dimension, sweetie. I’ll be back tonight. My family thinks I’m gone for a few days.”

Your facial expression obviously shows protest, but you know men of science cannot be held back from their work. “what’re you working on, Rick?” you love hearing about his work, being a scientist yourself.

Rick looks up at you, smiles and walks toward the bed. “you don’t want to know, baby. Just another annoyance with the council.” His tone sounds strained when he speaks those words. You know how much he hates the council, any governmental body really. You sit up on your knees, feeling wetness pour out from between your legs. You move closer to him, wrap your arms around his thin waist and nuzzle your head on his chest. “I’ll miss you, dear. Please be careful.”

Rick scoffs and places a finger on your chin, raising it to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t leave you all alone now would I?” Rick’s kiss feels hot and lust-filled. You wish there was love behind his actions and words, but he has long since given up on such practices.

Rick zaps his portal gun leaving a floating green orb of light. He steps through and the light vanishes.

You’re alone.

The sun is just above the horizon and you decide to take a quick walk to the corner market to grab a bite to eat.

The air is crisp and smells of dying leaves as autumn rolls in. You had spent a whole summer with Rick. It’s hard to believe one encounter would leave such a lasting impression on your life. Walking, you think back to that day.

-

It was the first science conference of your career. You were particularly excited to sit in on the seminar focused around Stephen Hawking’s thesis on the ever expanding universe.

You got lost at the conference centre and walked in the room just as the seminar began. There was one seat left, next to a balding, blue-gray haired man whom smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. You tried your best not to disturb him as you scribbled notes down in your notebook as the speaker went through the material.

“y-y-you know, this isn’t, this isn’t the half of it. I-I-I could show you more than this, little lady.” He looked down at you, obviously below you face and to your breasts, slightly exposed with a white lab coat barely hiding them. Holy shit, he was drunk. You suddenly felt unsafe.

-

Breaking from your memory, you chuckle knowing now that rick is the only man who makes you feel safe. You’re in the market, half-wittingly browsing the aisles.

-

“I, uhm, don’t think I’m interested… thanks.” You replied to him and tried to focus on the speaker on stage and not the one next to you. His gaze never left you.

“C’mon, I know way more than that asshole up there. I promise you’d learn a thing or two.” He leaned toward you ear, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I have a spaceship.”

You’d been lying if you claimed that didn’t peak your interest. Your gaze met his. At that moment you actually looked at him. He was extremely attractive for an older man. The intensity in his eyes made the space between your legs tingle.

-

You stop reminiscing to pay for the frozen chicken strips you load on the belt of the cash register. You head back up the street to your flat, continuing your daydream.

-

“are you just saying that to get me back to your hotel room?” you watched his expression change from serious to playful.

“do you want to come back to my hotel room, little lady?” he touched your shoulders. You had forgotten his hand was behind your back. You couldn’t help but shiver and the thought crossed your mind as he spoke. You were still uncomfortable, but a burning curiosity enveloped you. Your gaze dropped to the zipper of his trousers. He picked up on it because his free hand moved to rest it on the seam of the zipper. “I’m free tonight, baby.”

More than curious about him and his spaceship, you reluctantly agree to follow him. The two of you rose and exited the room. Rick walked slightly ahead of you. Peering behind him every few paces to make sure you were keeping up.

You followed him to the parking lot where his spaceship sat. “Oh my god,” you exclaim. “this is brilliant.” Your eyes lit up as you scanned the vehicle before you.

“hop in,” he suggested. “I’ll take your for a spin”

Against your better judgement, you hoped in the ship, eager to see how this contraption worked.

The man slid in the driver’s seat. “I’m Rick by the way.” He started up the engine and pulls off.

After what seemed like a few short hours you had discovered it was nearing three in the morning. The time you spent together, you shared your names, and other aspects of science that fascinated you.

“I should probably take you back to your car at the conference centre.” You felt a slight bit of sadness as you knew your night was ending.

“I took a bus. Would you mind dropping me off at my place?” you asked sheepishly, hoping he didn’t pick up on the underlying tones of your intentions. You had made up your mind, you did want to know what it was like to fuck him. You lusted for him to be inside of you.

-

You walk into your flat and directly to your microwave. You start to prepare your food as you think more about the first time you kissed rick. It was so raw and passionate. Your mind then wanders to the first time you fucked him.

-

“Hey, Rick.” You started as he pulled his ship to your flat. “would you like to come in for a beer?”

A wicked smile appeared on his face. “you know, I wondered if you would ask.” He unbuckled his seat belt and moved his face closer to yours. Your lips were almost touching. You extended your neck to connect with his lips, but he pulled away slightly. “you wanna kiss me, little lady?” he asked in a teasing fashion. You nod your head as he planted his lips on yours, groaning softly. Your tongues started to intertwine with the release of some sexual tension.

You pulled away from him. “come inside, Rick.” You say as you started to step out of the vehicle.

“Oh baby, I can do that in more ways than one.” He slips from the vehicle and follows you to the door of your flat.

Your heart started to pound as you realized you had Rick in your living space, about to fuck him. At least that was your intent.

“you know, you look pretty damn hot in that lab coat.” He said as you closed the door to your living space. You turned to him and slip it off. Walking closer to him you whisper “I bet it looks better off of me, sexy.”

Rick scooped you up by your waist, hiking your legs up around his waist. He kissed you fiercely. Carrying you over to the bed, he tossed you on it. Before taking his place on top of you, he removes lab coat, shoes and your shoes. He felt weightless on top of you.

You’re eager for him. Just his kiss makes you soak through your panties. You claw at his shirt, begging for it to come off. He complies with your wishes.

“holy shit, youre really wanting to get down to business, aren’t you?” Rick says as he pulls his shirt off and moves to remove your blouse. “you want me to fuck you?” he grinds his hips against yours, causing wetness to soak through both of your trousers. “Oh my fucking god, you do want it.” Rick rips off your pants destroying the zipper and button. He rose to finish undressing himself. He dropped his pants and stepped out of them. “you ready?” Rick asked before removing his boxers. You nod your head yes and he dropped his underwear. His massive length sprung forward leaping at you with intent.

“Oh my fucking god, Rick. Youre so big.” You said, hungering for his cock inside of you. Rick smiled and collapsed on top of you. His length pressed up against your stomach. “Oh, Rick. Please fuck me. Please. I can’t wait any longer.” He chuckled as he slid down to your legs kissing the delicate skin of your inner thighs. You inhaled sharply as he took you into his mouth, tongue dancing around your swollen clit. You reflexively grinded against his movements. Rick’s arms wrapped around your waist trailed up to cup your breasts. He hummed into your wetness, taking a break stating “ you taste so sweet.” He said before plunging back into you. Your breathing got rapid and your tiny noises became loud anxious moans. Your hands ran wildly through his hair, enjoying his movements on your flower.

His head rose and he stared at you and smiled. Fire in his eyes he crept his body on top of yours. “I can’t wait to be inside you.. t-t-to fuck you. I bet your cunt feels as good as it tastes.” Rick shoved his erection inside you with force. You screamed in pleasure as it shook your whole body. Sliding in and out of you, his body became moist with perspiration. Drops of sweat hit your chest, but fuck did it feel good. Your body tensed up as you got closer to climax. “Fuck baby, come for me…. God, God damn. Youre so tight” Rick finished inside of you as you came, causing both of your bodies to simultaneously go limp. Breathless, you lifted your tired body off of the bed to go clean yourself.

Holy shit was that dirty. Fucking god, what that amazing.

-

You fall asleep to the reminiscence of your greatest sexual conquest.

You awoke to the bright green light and dull hum of a portal. Expecting rick to soon join you in bed, you remained motionless. He liked it when he woke you up for sex. Groggy sex is the best sex, after all.. His body crawls in bed behind you and begins running his hands on your thigh. It feels good. You push your body closer to him, taking in the scent of Rick. Your body becomes stiff and your heart races.

This is not your Rick.

The impostors scent is familiar yet foreign. You start to pull away from his body, but he grabs you in protest. “hey, baby. Where you going? Rick’s home.” An evil chuckle rises from his throat.

“no.” You start, “get off of me.” You turn your body to face the man. A wicked scar sits over the right side of his mouth and bags sit just under his eyes. “you’re a pretty little fuck toy. I’ve been curious to know how you felt for a while.” Rick pushes his lips on to yours as you purse them in protest. Your arms shoot up to place your hands on his chest and shoves him away. Youre met with heavy resistance.

“don’t fucking do that, little girl.” Rick warns. “I’ll punish you for that.” His hand slides down the front of your pants forcing it’s fingers to slide themselves in the folds between your legs. “I’ll make you wet, baby. I’ll make you begin for my cock, just like you’ve begged for your Rick’s. I am going to fuck you.”

Your eyes well up with tears as your body betrays you, moistening your most sensitive area. You hate that it feels good. You want him to stop. You want rick here… your rick. He would save you from this… this impostor. “please stop. I don’t want this.” You sob. Rick chortles and continues exploring your body. “you don’t have a fucking choice, bitch.” Two fingers plunge inside of you and you let out a helpless yelp. “besides, you do want this… your cunt is soaking wet. You can’t lie to me, you fucking slut.” His ffingers hurt you. He was being too rough. Your rick never hurt you like this. You sob as the intruder rick pounds away at you.

“yeah, fucking cry. Fucking cry you worthless bitch. Youre just a fucking toy to me.” Rick rips your pants down and goes for his. You can’t move. Your body already hurts and fear washes over you. Intensity overwhelms your body as throbbing manhood rams inside of you. You scream out in pain. Rick places a hand on your throat, pushing you on to your back and taking his place on top of you. Fucking this rick was uninviting. “this can’t fucking hurt you, it’s basically the same cock you’ve had in that dirty little cunt of yours a million times. Youre so fucking tight, though. Does your rick not fuck you?” the impostor seems confused. “what a waste of a pussy if that is the case.” He fuck harder and deeper. Every thrust sends pain shooting through your body, however you can feel yourself getting wetter and closer to climax.

Your body wrenches in protest as your cunt tightens around his massivness inside of you. “that’s a good little slut.” Rick says. “fucking come. I knew you’d love this. I knew you’d want this.” He plunges harder into you. Your legs go numb and you start to feel a loss of conciousness. Is this how I die? Rick, please come back to me. Save me from this. Please.

The impostors pulls himself out of you and pulls you down the bed, bringing your face to meet his endowment “lick it clean you fucking whore.” Rick towers over you. Youre pinned to the bed. There’s no where to run. No escape. You comply with his wishes for fear of the consequences.

His taste is different from your rick. His skin tastes of salt. You gag a few times. The angle in which you’re fellating this rick is awkward. You hope for his release in your mouth. Maybe he will be done after that.

Your clit throbbed in pain as you sucked. You suck hard and fast trying to finish him off. In no time at all he releases his load in your mouth with a heavy groan.

You spit his liquid back at him as he orders you to swallow it. He slaps your cheek then dismouts from your body. “you disgusting little cunt.” He spits and shoves his dick back in his pants. You remain wordless, tears still streaming down your face. You can’t grasp what has happened to you.

You hear a portal open up and see the green hue illuminate the space around you. Without a sound. The imposter rick is gone and you’re alone again.

Youre finally alone.

Minutes pass like hours until rick enters through a portal. It truly is your rick. You haven’t moved from the spot you lay since the other rick left. Rick crawls in your bed and speaks your name softly. “hi there, honey” ricks hands run over your stomach tenderly. His touch hurts. Your skin is raw. You remain silent.

Rick stops, props himself up on an elbow and looks at you suspiciously. You feel his eyes on your face and his breathing speeds up. “what happened?” Rick asks through gritted teeth. It was almost as if he knew something about tonight’s events. You move your eyes to meet his and make a feeble attempt at remaining calm. You burst into tears and in between sobs you can only muster a single word. “scar”

Obviously angered, Rick turns on the lamp beside the bed revealing your body. You have Purple and red marks all over your hips and neck. Your vagina is swollen and red. Rick leans over you, caressing your face. “I’m here now.” Says he, he kisses your forehead and whispers your name one more. “darling, im here.” Rick releases your face and heads for the small table in the corner of the room. It held your chemical lab. Rick digs through your supplies, mixing a few together and returns to you with a needle and syringe filled with a bright red liquid. “let me take the hurt away.” He says as he inserts the needle in your arm. You watch your body heal before your eyes. Looking up at rick, you smile. “Oh rick, I didn’t want it. I just want you.” He plants a kiss on your lips, pulling you to into his arms. He holds you against him. “I know baby, I’m so sorry. I never should have left you.” If you didn’t know better you would swear his was crying.

You sit in each others embrace until light starts filling the room through the slats of the blinds.

“beautiful, would you be alright to stay here alone for just a few minutes? I’m going to ruin that bastard. No one touches what is mine.” Ricks words spit hate.

“give that sick fucker all you got, baby.” You reply. You want to see that evil son-of-a-bitch burn. Rick was right, no one should touch what is his.