#queenly hair flip.

[pomfiores]

     Whatever you’re trying to entail, just remember: he’s out of your league.  Don’t forget it.

[staplegxnn]

THE THIRD BEAT

(Reposts are appreciated, please do not steal, copy, or publish my work without proper credit.)

Tw: cussing, lots of juicy juicy angst

Headcannons: poppy does not like cussing (humor ensues), Barb is traumatized, Branch is a snuggly mf who loves his gfs with all his heart

Life was slow and messy for Barb after the whole “trying to turn everyone into rock trolls” thing. It wasn’t easy for her to make friends, some people still hated her, others went as far as teasing her and calling her names, it wasn’t something she could escape. But there was one escape…Poppy and Branch, Poppy was the queen of the pop trolls, a sweet and overly optimistic woman with a heart of gold and a love for glitter, and Branch was her pessimistic boyfriend, he was more chill and low energy than poppy was, but he was still all smiles and jokes. Poppy and Branch were Barbs absolute best friends, they didn’t judge her for anything, sure, Branch needed a bit more time before fully trusting Barb, but one he did, they were amazing friends. Poppy was certainly the closest to Barb, they could talk to each other for hours without getting bored, they did each others hair, they went on adventures together- they were absolutely inseparable.

Barb sat on the edge of her bed, sighing as she scribbled down some doodles in her notebook. She didn’t have anything to do today, Branch was out with his brothers and Poppy was doing some queenly shit that Barb would rather just not ask about- she had her own problems ruling her own kingdom. Barb laid back in her bed, looking up at her ceiling, she’d been staying temporarily in the pop kingdom for around a month now, since most of the rock trolls were helping re-construction of the other kingdoms, she honestly loved it there, it was bright and colorful, and sure- it was kind of not her vibe- but it made her happy nonetheless. Barb felt her hand grip around her pen, her notebook laying on her lap, she sat up and started to doodle again, it started with a head, then a body, some legs, some arms…Barb grumbled, she got up and walked to her desk, grabbing some other pens. Pink hair, pink skin, a blue and green dress…and pretty, hot pink eyes. Barb set her pen down, rubbing the paper and sighing, she chuckled, looking at the drawing.

“Poppy…”

Barb sat down in her desk chair, rocking it side to side as she flipped the page and started doodling again. Her heart thumped in her chest as she thought about Poppy, she looked to the picture on her wall of the two together, Poppy hugging Barb tightly, and Barb hugging back- she wanted that to happen again, she missed Poppy’s hugs when she wasn’t there. Barb looked back down at her paper, she drew poppy again, her smiling face and bright eyes, she closed the notebook, setting her pens aside, she took a deep breath and took the picture from the wall, looking down at it.

“Poppy. God damnit why can I not stop thinking about you….”

Barb heard a soft knock on her door, she set the picture down and opened it, almost having a heart attack as she saw the pink preppy princess standing right at her door. She stepped back.

“Ah! Poppy! Oh you’re here! I thought you weren’t gonna be back for another hour!”

Poppy giggled, hugging onto Barb and sighing.

“Ugh- the queen stuff was soooo boorrrrrinnnngg! So I snuck away to come see you!!! I- hope that’s okay-“

Poppy sat down on Barb’s bed, smiling at her. Barb nodded, smiling back and crossing her arms, trying to make Poppy’s hug last longer.

“Of course it’s okay. I’m always one for ditching.”

Barb sat next to Poppy, leaning on her a bit, Poppy leaned into her as well, the two of them falling back onto the bed and giggling. Barb looked at Poppy as she wrapped her arms around her, taking her in another big hug.

“I miss your hugs when you’re not around…”

Barb mumbled, looking up at the ceiling, trying to ignore her thumping heart and burning face.

“Awww! Barb!!! I miss you too. I wish I could come over here more often but I’m so freaking bussssyyyy- excuse my French.”

Barb laughed at Poppy’s remark, looking down at her and sighing softly.

“Eh, it’s fine, I can survive without you for most of the day. I just require like- 5 hugs per day.”

Poppy giggles, sitting up and tackling Barb, wrapping her arms around her.

“HAH! There’s number 3!!!”

Barbs face turned red, she laughed again her face now redder than the burning flames of a fireplace. Poppy noticed this, she tilted her head slightly.

Poppy, despite being busy, was a very devoted person to her friends. She had time for everyone, and everything, you could ask her to do a 4 hour long task during work hours and she’d find the time to do it for you. But most of her time was spent around two people, her boyfriend Branch, and her best friend…Barb. Barb was such a spunky woman, her personality was off the rocker and she was honestly so fun to be around, Poppy never wanted to leave her side half the time they were together, and her favorite times were when Branch, her, and Barb were all together, those were her happiest moments. Recently, poppy had been spending a lot of time with Barb, since Branch was busy catching up with his brothers, it was just the two of them most of the time, and the more that Poppy was around Barb….the more she started to notice little details about her. She always melted into hugs, she wasn’t really that snuggly, but when Poppy or Branch snuggled up to her she would cling right onto them, she always got a bit red when the two were around her…and most of all, the way Barb looked at her.

Barb looked up into Poppy’s eyes, tilting her head as well and chuckling.

“You okay there, princess?”

Poppy shook herself out of her trance, smiling and tackling Barb down into another hug, laying back on the bed with Barbs head on her chest, she melted into her like always, smiling and taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinkin.”

Barb closed her eyes, her arms wrapping tightly around Poppy’s waist. Poppy gently ran her hands through Barbs bright red hair, it was soft and silky, and it shined like fire in the light.

“Whatcha thinkin about?”

Barb opened her eyes, looking up at Poppy with a smile. Poppy loved Barbs smile, it was one of the best things about her, it was crooked and toothy- and the most charming damn thing she’d ever seen, it reminded her of Branch’s smile.

“You and Branch, like always.”

Poppy giggled, ruffling Barbs hair. Barb grumbled playfully, turning over and pulling Poppy into an even tighter hug.

“I haven’t seen Branch in a while. Does he come home today?”

Poppy nods.

“Yeah, I hope so. I miss him.”

Barb sits up, smiling down at poppy and stretching.

“I miss him too. Let’s just hope he doesn’t bring his brothers around- cause I am not up for having like- 50 people in my house.”

Poppy giggles, laying her head down on Barbs lap. And there was that look again. Barbs gaze softened, her eyes half lidded, a spark firing deep within her pretty reds. Poppy adored it…it made her feel so special the way Barb looked at her, like she was the only woman in the entire world.

“Nah, I think it’ll just be me, you, and Branch. We could scrap book together!!!”

Poppy smiles widely, both hers and Barbs faces a bright red.

“Ah- scrap booking? Really?”

Poppy scoffs playfully.

“Yes really, you know you love it.”

Barb rolls her eyes, chuckling.

“Uh huh. Sureeeeee. Yeah fine, we can scrap book.”

Poppy squeals.

“YAYY!!!!”

She sits up, wrapping her arms around Barb and tackling her back onto the bed, laying down with her and closing her eyes.

“I love…-“

Poppy paused mid sentence, opening her eyes and looking up at Barb, that same look still in her eyes.

“H…hanging out with you.”

Barb smiled, sighing softly and looking up at the ceiling.

“I love hanging out with you too. I swear you and Branch are the only reason I’m even still in Trollstopia. I would’ve moved if I didn’t have you.”

Poppy gently plays with Barbs hair again, giggling.

“I’m happy you stayed.”

Minuets later, there’s a knock on the door, and Poppy immediately jumps up to go get it, swinging open the door and gasping as she saw who it was. Branch came rushing into the room, picking Poppy up and giggling.

“There’s my two favorite girls!!!!”

Branch threw poppy down onto Barbs bed, hopping up and giving Barb a big hug too. Barb giggled, her face flushing as Branch snuggled up to both her and Poppy.

“Oh you’re back Branch we missed you!!! Me and Barb were talking about scrap booking!”

Branch playfully rolls his eyes, just like Barb did.

“Really? Scrap booking?”

Poppy scoffs.

“You two are no fun!!! I’ll go get the supplies from my house. I’ll be right back!!!”

Branch leans in to Barb, whispering.

“Watch, she’s gonna take like a full fuckin hour.”

Poppy snaps back around and looks at Branch.

“LANGUAGE!!!”

Barb and Branch both laugh as Poppy closes the door and leaves. Branch sighs, wrapping an arm around Barb. Barb smiled and closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself and fidgeting with her leather jacket.

“So, anything new since I’ve been gone?”

Branch gently started playing with Barbs hair- that was one of the many things him and Poppy had in common, they liked playing with Barbs hair.

“Ah, not much. Poppy’s been busy with ruling, and I’ve just been kinda stuck here all alone until she gets done for the day.”

Branch frowns a bit, huffing.

“You could’ve told me, I would’ve come back sooner.”

Barb shakes her head.

“Nah, you were busy with your brothers. I can handle being alone…I was for most of my life anyway.”

Branch sighs, hugging Barb close.

“Well you don’t have to be alone now, you have me and Poppy. And we’ll never leave your side.”

As Branch said this, Poppy came back in the house, hopping up on the bed and snuggling right up to Barb and Branch.

“That’s right! We’re gonna be here forever and you’re gonna have to just deal with it!”

Barb smiled at Branch and Poppy, looking between the two of them.

“Ah- you guys are gonna make me blush.”

Branch chuckles, laying back on the bed and letting his head hang off the end of it.

“But you’re cute when you blush.”

Poppy nods.

“Very. I agree. BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT!!!! ITS SCRAP BOOKING TIME!!!”

Barb didn’t even have time to process what the two had said to her before she was dragged into the downstairs part of her house by Poppy, Branch following closely behind. Barb sat down on her couch as Poppy sat on the floor, getting out all her art supplies and clapping happily. Branch sat down next to Barb, putting his arm around her and yawning.

“Oh boy. Here we go.”

The next couple hours were filled with constant laughter and talking between the three, like always, it was the most fun they’d each had in a while, just making little paper cut outs, pouring glitter everywhere, listening to music and watching movies, it was great. By the end of the day, they were all 3 warn out, it was dark out and they’d been loud and crazy to their hearts content. Poppy sat on the couch next to Barb, leaning against her and groaning.

“Ughhhh- can’t we just spent the night? I don’t feel like going back home.”

Branch nods in agreement.

“Yeah neither do I.”

Barb chuckles.

“Yeah, no shit you can stay. Have I ever said no?”

Poppy yawns sleepily.

“Watch your-…language…”

She grabs a blanket, not even bothering to grab a pillow, just falling asleep on Barb, all snuggled up in her blanket. Barb sighed, chuckling as Branch sat behind her, covering the both of them with a blanket, Barb sighed, laying back against him and looking up at him. Branch smiled down at her, then he smiled down at Poppy, chuckling.

“She’s out like a light.”

Barb laughs.

“Yeah she is.”

Barb gently plays with Poppy’s hair, smiling as she laid against her, sleeping peacefully. Barb sighed, looking off into the distance for a second before speaking again.

“Branch? Do you guys ever feel like…I’m bothering you….? Like I’m intruding on your relationship…? I’m like- literally fuckin laying in between you two right now.”

Branch chuckles, shaking his head as he turned down the volume of the tv.

“Of course we don’t. Me and Poppy chose to have you around, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. Honestly, you make our relationship complete, without you it feels like it’s missing a piece.”

Barb blushed at the remark, fidgeting with Poppy’s hair.

“Does Poppy feel that way too?”

Branch nods.

“Oh absolutely! She loves you. Anytime us two are alone together one of us always brings you up, and that’s why we’re always around you, Poppy needs you just as much as I do.”

Barb paused, the room was silent for a moment as she thought to herself.

“Branch…do you…ever think…- maybe….”

Barb paused again, looking nervous. She shook her head and sighed.

“Never mind. Night, Branch.”

Barb laid back, closing her eyes and snuggling against the two. Branch chuckled, patting her on the shoulder and laying back as well.

“Goodnight, Barb.”

Barb was the last one awake in the morning, she felt the slow rise and fall of Branch’s chest against her head, and the vibration of Poppy’s voice against her ribs. She opened her eyes, smiling down at Poppy, who immediately smiled back at her and hugged her.

“Barb!!! Sorry if we woke you-“

Barb shook her head, sighing and looking up at Branch.

“Nah, you didn’t.”

Branch sat up, helping Barb sit up as well as he walked to the kitchen and started making all of them coffee. Poppy leaned against Barb, sighing.

“Branch told me that last night you were asking if you bothered us. And you don’t!!! You really don’t. We love having you around!!! To be honest we hate “alone time” cause we like it better here with you.”

Barb giggled, nudging Poppy playfully.

“Branch, were you talkin shit last night?”

Branch walked back in with coffee, handing Barb her cup.

“So much shit.”

Poppy gasped.

“Language!!! Thank you for the coffee, sweetie~”

Poppy took her cup from Branch, taking a sip and sighing. Barb stayed quiet as Branch and Poppy spoke to each other, she thought to herself for a bit…she didn’t feel whole without Poppy and Branch with her either, she felt like she needed them as well, she felt…like she was part of their relationship in some way. She shook herself out of it, finishing her coffee and walking to the kitchen to put her cup away. Who would ever love her like that? She was a crazy, off the walls, angry, terrible person- who didn’t deserve love, that’s all she could think about, and that’s all she thought of herself. Poppy looked over to the kitchen, seeing Barb just looking down at the counter as she fidgeted with her cup. Poppy stood up, walking up behind Barb and wrapping her arms around her waist, laying her head on her shoulder.

“I know that face. What are you upset about???”

Barb shook her head, sighing and rubbing her forehead.

“It’s nothing.”

Branch scoffed, standing up and leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

“Don’t say it’s nothing. We know you, it’s clearly not nothing when you act like this.”

Barb groaned.

“That’s just the thing. You guys know me, but…you know me too well! You shouldn’t be- hanging out with me like this- you should hate me! You both know what I did…you both know how I am and get you still chose to stay….why??? Because I said sorry once? Because I had a change of heart? You shouldn’t just- forgive me right away-“

Barb put her head in her hands, sighing softly.

“I don’t deserve what you guys give me…- and I never will.”

Branch and Poppy looked at each other, both pulling Barb into a big hug. Poppy cupped Barbs face in her hands, shaking her head.

“Barb. You deserve all of what you get from us, and more. You are a sweet, loving, adorable woman and i love the way you are! I don’t care about what you did in the past- you’ve clearly changed.”

Barb placed her hands over Poppy’s hands, looking at her the same way as always.

“But…I…I just worry that…I’m a burden to you.”

Branch shakes his head.

“You are not a burden. We promise.”

But a promise wasn’t enough for Barb, she gave the two of them a soft, and clearly fake smile, before sitting up on the countertop and huffing. Poppy burrowed her head into Barbs stomach, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist, Branch just sighed and hugged the both of them, looking up at Barb.

“Cmon, you believe us right?”

Barb shrugs.

“I don’t know….it’s…- hard to. I’ve had people lie about that stuff in the past- and with you two…- I…”

Barb sighs softly.

“It would hurt worse if you two were lying.”

Branch grumbles, rolling his eyes and picking Barb up from off the counter, slinging her over his shoulder. He took her upstairs, Poppy following closely behind, Branch plopped Barb right down onto her bed, grabbing her desk chair and sitting down across from her, Poppy staying standing.

“Alright Barb. Talk. Somethings up with you. I came home, we all had some fun, and now you’re suddenly upset, and I don’t like it when you’re upset.”

Barbs face turned red, she didn’t know what to say, and she was so focused on Branch that she didn’t even notice Poppy opening her notebook.

“Ah- it’s- it’s nothing, you know me, I’m always down about something.”

Poppy suddenly spoke up.

“Oh…Barb…”

Barbs heart dropped down into her stomach when she saw what Poppy was holding- she was in some deep shit now. Branch looked over Poppy’s shoulder, his gaze softening as he smiled, looking up at Barb, who was now face down in a pillow, seeming to be preparing for the worst.

“Barb, why didn’t you tell me and Poppy?”

Barb lifted her head.

“Hah??? Tell you what??? You must be seeing things!!!! There’s nothing in that no-“

Before Barb could finish her sentence, she was smothered in a big Poppy hug, her shoulders dropped and she took a deep breath, hugging her back.

“Sorry….”

Poppy lifted her head.

“Sorry for what?? There’s absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

Branch nods, sitting up on the bed with the two.

“Poppy is right. But why didn’t you tell us sooner…?”

Barb shrugged, she had an answer, she didn’t think she deserved to be in a relationship, especially not with two amazing people like Poppy and Branch, but they didn’t need to hear that, they probably already knew.

“I…I guess I was just nervous.”

Poppy looked at Branch, and Branch back to Poppy, the both of them smiled and nodded, looking back at Barb and taking her hands.

“There’s no need to be.”

Poppy hummed in her sweet and soft tone.

“Because- we love you like that too.”

Barb sat dumbfounded in the lower floor of her house, staring dead forward at her blank tv screen. 2 weeks. That’s how long she’d been in a relationship with Poppy and Branch, it hadn’t hit her until just then, her heart sank deep into her chest, but before she could think about anything more, she was tackled and immediately smooched on the cheek.

“BARBBBB!!!!! Hiiii!!!! I missedddd youuuu!!!”

Barb giggled, kissing Poppy back and sighing.

“You went upstairs for 10 minutes, Poppy.”

Poppy sighs, sitting up and looking down at Barb.

“That’s too long without you.”

Barb sat up as well, only to be pulled into another kiss by Poppy, Barb melted into her, sighing softly and wrapping her arms around her waist, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the moment. Poppy giggled as she broke the kiss, holding tightly onto Barbs hands.

“Gosh, you’re such a good kisser~”

Barb turned bright red at the remark, chuckling and tucking Poppy’s hair behind her ear.

“Ah- I’m not that good.”

Branch came up from behind Barb, kissing her on the cheek and hugging her.

“Nah, you are. Don’t downplay yourself.”

Barb hid her face in her hands, shaking her head.

“Oh stop it-“

Poppy giggled, pulling Barb into another hug.

“Nooooo~”

Poppy, Branch, and Barb all sat on the couch together, snuggling closely. Barb stared off into space again as the other two spoke amongst themselves. She couldn’t help herself, she was deeper in thought then she usually was, she wasn’t paying attention to anything except for the voice in her own head. Poppy looked up at Barb, running a hand through her hair and trying to catch her attention, kissing her cheek, cupping her face, everything she could- but Barb was too deep in her own head. Branch sighed softly, just leaning his head against Barb, and waiting until Poppy was asleep around an hour later to pull Barb aside. He gently helped Barb off the couch, wrapping an arm around her waist and walking out onto the back porch with her, and as soon as they got outside, Barb broke down into tears. Branch took her hand, his heart broke seeing one of the people he loved most in the world break down like this, he just held her in his arms, hugging her closely as she cried, he didn’t even need to ask her what has wrong, she started talking all on her own.

“Branch- I- I don’t deserve you, or Poppy…I’m a horrible fucking person. I’m loud- I’m heartless, I’m too closed off to say anything about it- I…I’m the opposite of you guys.”

Branch paused as he listened to Barb speak, he gently sat down with her, taking her hands in his and kissing her forehead.

“Actually…Barb, you’re exactly like how I was once…”

Barb looked up into Branches eyes, seeming surprised. Branch just nodded.

“Yeah, I know- hard to believe- but…I was closed off once too, I was scared, I was isolated, and to be honest…I was kind of an asshole. I didn’t think I deserved love either, but Poppy helped me see differently, she helped me realize and understand that no matter what…everyone deserves a little bit of happiness. And especially you do, Barb. You’re the second sweetest girl I know, and I love you.”

Barb smiled, tilting her head slightly and giggling through the muffled sound of her tears.

“Second?”

Branch shrugged.

“No one can be as sweet as Poppy.”

Barb laughed and leaned into Branch, closing her eyes and sighing, maybe she did deserve love, maybe this was her second chance…and maybe, just maybe- she could finally be happy once again.

[shadowdaddies]

Can I request Aelin x f!reader and Aelin is very possessive over her

I'm feeling festive right now so I wrote this as a Yulemas piece with Aelin just wanting to spend time with reader more than anything

All I Want for Yulemas

Aelin x Reader fluff

Warnings: suggestive

Leaning over the bathroom counter, you carefully applied the red to your lips, festive for the Yulemas celebrations today. You smiled as Aelin padded into the bathroom, blonde hair a mess as she stood behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. With a groan, she dramatically buried her head in your neck, mumbling against your skin. 

“I don’t want to do this today,” she whined. Turqoise eyes flicked to yours through the mirror, an all too familiar smirk gracing her lips as Aelin brushed her nose up the side of your neck. Pausing in between words, Aelin kissed a trail down your neck and shoulder. “We could...stay here...just you and me...”

Regretfully pulling away from her soft touch, you turned to face Aelin. “We have to get through temple and the ball.” Her responding groan made you giggle, amending, “okay, we have to make an appearance at the ball, at least. Queenly duties.” Aelin made a gagging sound at the title, pressing one more kiss to your cheek before moving to get dressed for the day. 

You sat in the front of temple, diligently singing along to the songs, holding back your snickering when Aelin was sure to point out the pointlessness of temple when there were no gods anymore. “It’s tradition,” you hissed, pinching her arm playfully as the both of you struggled to maintain your stoic expressions.

After temple, the crowd migrated to the ballroom for the main celebration. You joined Aelin on the dais, your queen raising a toast to the night and the official commencement of the ball. The orchestra struck up a jovial song, encouraging people from all around to rush the dance floor and take part in the merriment. Aelin gently took your hand, giving a discreet nod towards the exit.

“Come with me,” she whispered, leading you out the side door towards a winding staircase. You trailed her down a couple floors until you reached a door to the outside, the heavy wood creaking loudly as Aelin shoved it open to lead you out into the dark snowy night.

“Aelin, where are we going?” you murmured, teeth chattering as she guided you towards the line of evergreen trees at the edge of the forest. Turning towards you, Aelin winked and took off in a run as she pulled you along into the forest. 

You reached a clearing among the trees where the snow had unnaturally melted away, candles scattered around a blanket and pillows on the ground. A joyous laugh escaped you, your excitement palpable as you ran over to the warm haven, laying down on the pillows. Aelin laid down next to you, holding your hand as you both enjoyed the view of the starry sky. 

“I have a surprise,” Aelin whispered, and you whipped your head to face her in shock.

With a slight laugh, you waved an arm in gesture to the scene around you. “This isn’t the surprise?”

The soft look in Aelin’s eyes, her bright smile when she looked at you nearly made your heart burst. Silver lined your eyes as you shook your head in awe of her. “Aelin, you are too good to me. How am I supposed to give you a gift that compares to what you do for me?”

Aelin flipped over, blonde hair hanging in a curtain around her face as she hovered over you. One hand came to brush your cheek, that loving look in her eyes that would bring you to your knees had you been standing. “All I want for Yulemas is to be with you, away from responsibilities. Just to love you,” she whispered, a reverence in her tone. 

“I think I can arrange that.” Reaching up, you threaded your fingers through her long hair and pulled her down into a heated kiss. Legs wrapping around her waist instinctively, you moaned into the kiss, desperate for more of her warm touch. 

Aelin pulled away, breathless as she laughed softly against your cheek. “I haven’t shown you the real surprise yet.” She pressed a quick peck to your cheek, taking your hands to help you sit up as she moved behind you, hands wrapping around your waist. With a wave of her hand, small twinkling lights illuminated the evergreens around you, revealing small figures on the ground. You walked over to one, picking it up to see it was a wooden carving of a Terrasen pine tree. Small carvings and offerings surrounded the circle of trees, each representing something special to you. 

You couldn’t stop the tears that fell, thinking of how much time must have been devoted to creating these gifts for you. Aelin kneeled next to you, placing an arm around your shoulders. “The Little Folk made all of these for you, recognizing how special you are to me.” 

Setting down the carvings, you pulled Aelin in for a hug, holding her in your arms as if she would disappear if you let go. “Thank you, thank you all,” you whispered, to Aelin and to any Little Folk who might be listening. 

Aelin pulled back, brushing the hair that had fallen in your eyes as she wiped your tears. “Come on,” she whispered, guiding you back to the nest of pillows and blankets in the clearing. There was a small wicker basket you hadn’t noticed before, Aelin opening it to pull out a bottle of wine and - of course - chocolate truffles. 

Laughing, you settled into the pillows next to her, curling into her side as you took turns drinking from the bottle and eating chocolates. After hours of talking, whispering sweet nothings and sneaking intimate touches, Aelin drifted off to sleep - her golden hair splayed across your stomach that she used as a pillow. You stroked her hair absentmindedly, deep contentment settling in your bones as you fell asleep under the stars with her.

[vulpes-fennec]

@elainweekofficial Day 3: A snippet of the shenanigans that ensue when Elain and the Band of Exiles dog-sit Eris's smokehounds 🐶

“What in Cauldron’s name is happening?” Lucien’s hands were planted squarely on his hips as Eris Vanserra wedged past him. The High Lord of Autumn had shown up to the Band of Exiles’ manor with his entire pack of smokehounds bright and early.

“Oh!” Elain popped her head around the corner. “Good morning, Eris! Hello Isabella! Quenby! Yana and Collin!” She rubbed the passing hounds affectionately on their heads. With the dogs’ soulful brown eyes, soft and short hairs, lolling tongues, and wagging tails, who wouldn’t fall in love with them?

Eris tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Good morning, Elain.” 

“Smokehounds,” Vassa breathed in amazement, joining the throng at the door. The human queen’s sapphire eyes sparkled at the magical dogs jostling their way down the hall.

“I volunteered to watch Eris’s dogs while he went on his honeymoon,” Elain explained, turning her doe brown eyes towards Lucien. 

Lucien’s frown softened at Elain’s hopeful expression. They had only started courting very recently, taking things slowly the old-fashioned—human—way. It seemed Elain had taken the initiative to win his brother’s favor by not only memorizing all of Eris’s dogs, but by also offering to care for them.

“But agreeing to watch your dogs for the week is not the same as letting all of them move in,” Lucien protested. For Eris was unloading box after box of belongings into the living room. Beds, toys, food, treats, leashes, blankets…even little jackets. All twelve members of the pack, colored in varying shades of sleek gray, were sniffing furniture with their long, elegant noses.

“My dogs are very high maintenance,” Eris said defensively. “Besides, they like you the most out of all our brothers. You should take that as a compliment.” Eris smacked a thick packet into Lucien’s chest. Lucien flipped through the pamphlet, eyes growing wider and wider. 

“Give Collin a hot soak every night. Bridgett must be fed promptly at 6 in the evening. Silas only plays with the green wool ball. What is this?” Lucien read incredulously. 

“Those are the care instructions.” Eris rolled his eyes, implying obviously at the end of his response.

“You have twenty pages of—” 

“I don’t want to hear it, Lucien,” Vassa interrupted, giving Lucien a queenly stare with her blazing blue eyes. “I approved of having the dogs come over as well. I hope you enjoy your honeymoon, Lord Eris.” She bowed her head at the Autumn High Lord.

“Dogs!” Jurian’s voice echoed from the hall. “They’re here!” 

“Oh gods, here he comes,” Lucien groaned. The Mad General barreled into the room, his shoulder-length brown hair frazzled, shirt half-buttoned.

“I love dogs,” Jurian said enthusiastically as the hounds jumped up and down excitedly at the prospect of a new friend. “I used to be a dog whisperer back in the day.” 

“I’m sure you were,” Vassa muttered under her breath. 

“Saoirse, down,” Eris commanded as one of the females practically bowled Jurian over. “You know better than to jump on strangers.” 

“I’m sure they won’t remain strangers for long,” Elain giggled as Saoirse licked Jurian’s face eagerly. Vassa and Jurian’s faces bore huge smiles as they gave each hound plenty of attention.

After several minutes, Lucien looked at Eris expectantly. “Well, what are you waiting for? Don’t you have a honeymoon to pack for?” 

“I don’t want to leave them,” Eris said gruffly, turning away. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re crying.” Lucien sighed, rolling his eyes.  

“You wouldn’t understand, baby brother,” Eris snapped, wiping his eyes. “When you have children one day, you will feel the same way.” Elain blushed at the implication of Lucien with children. 

“They’ll be fine, Eris. I’m sure they’ll forget all about you soon enough.” 

“Lucien, don’t be cruel.” Elain swatted Lucien’s arm. “Your dogs will be in good hands, don’t you worry, Eris. Time will fly by sooner than you think.”  

Eris sniffled, glaring at his brother. “Thank you, Elain. At least someone here has some compassion.” 

***

Lunchtime feeding had been utter chaos. 

“Sit! Sit!” Jurian had instructed repeatedly. “You’re not getting food until you sit!” The hounds only wagged their tails at him, not a single coherent thought behind their eyes. 

Of course, they only listened to Lucien, whose flaming red hair and cadence of voice was most similar to their master’s. The fae male managed to get the hounds—Arienne, Bridgette, Collin, Erick, Isabella, Lea, Mateo, Phillipe, Quenby, Silas, Victoria, and Yana—chowing down grains, vegetables, and premium cuts of meat in somewhat orderly fashion.  

Now that it was afternoon, Elain and Vassa lounged on the lawn, watching Jurian and Lucien play with the dogs. An hour of strenuous exercise per day, Eris had instructed. Jurian and Lucien were both hardy warriors, but the dogs’ boundless energy seemed to be running them ragged. 

Several smokehounds—Phillipe, Isabella, and Arienne—ambled around, taking their garden sniffs very seriously. Elain kept a careful eye on them, making sure they did not ingest any of her carefully cultivated plants. 

Lea and Erick sat beside her on the soft blanket, their sweet eyes gazing as she munched on cookies and miniature cakes. “Sorry, darlings,” Elain apologized, “no snacks for you.” 

“Give the dog a little treat,” Vassa grumbled, her nose buried in a book. “They deserve the world.” 

Elain frowned. “Eris would not forgive me if he came back and found them several pounds heavier.” 

Vassa rolled her eyes with the confidence of a self-assured queen. “Trust me, you should be more concerned about getting Daphne and Helion’s approval. Lucien’s parents, remember?” 

Elain gave her friend a pointed glare as she threaded daisies into a chain. “Trust you? You’ve never had to meet Jurian’s parents.”  

“Fine, you have a point there. But why wouldn’t Lucien prioritize what his mother and his newly-found father, the High Lord of Day, think?” 

Elain dropped the daisy crown onto Lea’s head. The hound tucked its snout between its paws contentedly. She chewed her lip worriedly. “Do you think he—” 

Vassa waved her hand. “Oh, goodness, no. That male? He’s clearly in love with you. And you clearly possess strong feelings for him. Why you want to take things at a snail’s pace—”

“Snail’s pace!” Elain sputtered.

“Yes, Elain Archeron,” she intoned slowly. “The main characters in this novel have only known each other for six days, and they’re fucking already. You and Lucien have known each other for three years…have you even kissed?”

“Of-of course we have! I am not a prude!” 

Vassa tapped the cover of the book she was reading. Selkie’s Cove by Sellyn Drake. “This is a great story, by the way. Here, you should read it. For some inspiration.” The human queen winked, making Elain blush at its implication. 

Elain cocked her head. “Do you hear that?” 

“Hear what?” The sound of distant yelling grew closer and closer. It was Jurian. 

“Aaaahhhh!! Help meee!!” The human general came sprinting out of the woods, three smokehounds hot on his heels. Jurian zig-zagged around tree stumps and hopped over muddy patches, commanding the dogs to stop chasing him. Unfortunately, that only seemed to excite them more.

“Some dog whisperer you are,” Elain called out to Jurian. 

“Stop running!” Vassa shouted. “Use your assertive general voice, Jurian!” 

“Afternoon, ladies.” Lucien jogged over, grinning mischievously. 

“Something tells me you know why the smokehounds won’t leave Jurian alone,” Elain’s brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“I may have slipped a piece of beef jerky into his pocket,” Lucien laughed softly. “He’s been lagging during our sparring sessions, so I figured he needed to work on his stamina.” 

“Stamina?” Elain nudged Vassa with a sneaky grin. 

***

Preparing dinner for twelve hungry hounds had been no easy feat. Thankfully, Jurian and Lucien’s expert knife skills had the vegetables and meat chopped up within half an hour. Promptly at 6 in the evening, per Eris’s demands.  

Vassa brushed Arienne and Quenby’s shiny coats with a soft bristle brush, while Elain read Selkie’s Cove by the crackling fireplace. Silas had his head on her lap, while Phillipe dozed off next to her. Lucien and Jurian were somewhere in the kitchen, opening up bottles of wine. A cozy night seemed to be in store.

“Hey, you! Mateo! Or is it Erick?” Jurian rushed into the room, for a smokehound was standing on the pink couch. 

“It’s Erick,” Elain remarked distractedly, engrossed with the utterly sinful smut. “Can’t you tell?”

“Well Erick is peeing on the couch!” Jurian wailed. “Shoo! Shoo!” The smokehound jumped off the hot pink cushion without a care in the world. Jurian dabbed at the dark stain with a cloth towel. 

“Good riddance,” Elain said offhandedly, returning to the book. “It was about time that pink monstrosity was disposed of.”

“What is happening?” Lucien sighed for the umpteenth time that day. 

“My couch! Noo!!” Jurian howled. The smokehounds around him howled in unison, bringing out a fresh round of giggles from Vassa and Elain.

Lucien ran his hands through his long hair, groaning, “I’ll bill Eris for another couch, Jurian.” 

Elain glanced up at Lucien, eyes glimmering with delight. “As long as it’s not pink, right?” she said innocently. “It was a shit interior design choice.”

[twistedwonderlandsevenmemories]

Pomefiore Feb Update

Hi everyone! Been feeling quite a bit better these past few weeks.

I got a new Pomefiore chapter ready for Friday, Feb 16! Sneak peek below if you're interested in what's in store.

A lot of what I've written was already outlined a while back, so the next few chapters might not take as long as expected to edit and such.

Hope you are all doing okay! :D

-TWSTStories

“The heart of a pig. The blundering fool!” The jewelry box smashed against the ground with a loud crack.

Claire flinched, still trying to gather her bearings. She dared not look at what leaked out of the broken box as the Fairest Queen breathed heavily in rage. After a couple of seconds, the queen’s face smoothed back to its fairest expression.

“I’ll go myself to the dwarf’s cottage in a disguise so complete no one will ever suspect.”

Dwarf? Disguise? What was going on? Claire wanted to throw her hands up in frustration.

Would the mirror stop pulling her into these dreams without an explanation?

The queen crossed the room to the bookshelf in the corner. Threads of cobwebs snapped off the large dusty red tome she pulled from the very top, but Claire caught a brief glimpse of the word ‘Disguises’ written on the spine before the queen set the book down on the table.

“Now, a formula to transform my beauty into ugliness, change my queenly raiment to a peddler's cloak,” she murmured to herself as she flipped the pages.

On the top of the page that the queen stopped on, ‘Peddler’s Disguise’ was written in large Gothic words.

“Mummy dust to make me old…” the queen murmured as her long white finger moved down the list of ingredients. “To shroud my cloak, the black of night… To age my voice, an old hag’s crackle… To whiten my hair, a scream of fright…”

Mummy dust? Hag’s crackle? Scream of fright? These were not ingredients that Claire had seen or heard of in alchemy class, but the queen was unperturbed by what the recipe was calling for. In fact, she already had all the ingredients in test tubes and boiling flasks.

She pulled out a wine glass of clear liquid and dripped one bubbling ingredient after another without needing to measure anything out. Each new ingredient that was added caused the drink to froth and change color: first black then red and finally a sickly green.

She held the final product up in the air as it continued to simmer like a carbonated emerald soda.

“Now begin thy magic spell,” she whispered as if in a trance.

[vogwentwin]

To Be Continued Part 1: Ch. 4

(Sorry for the late post, but here's the next part! This one has an illustration!)

Previous

Of course, I wake up much earlier than I usually do. My sleep was restless. CiCi’s strained face seemed to peer at me around corners in every dream. I finally give up on the idea that I can go back to sleep restfully around 5 am and it’s a good thing I do because apparently the Vogwen idea of morning is very literal. I’ve barely gotten finished dressing and was just putting toast onto a napkin when a curt rapping sound comes from the front door. I jump, almost drop the toast, and glance around wildly. I had planned on making myself look a bit more presentable today. I’ve never met with royalty, but I have this vague idea that my village deserves to be represented by a…well, queenly queen. I’ve been in this position for three and a half years and it took two or three just to get used to being referred to as anything other than just Tmonk-Tmonk. 

I catch sight of myself in the glass window in the top half of the back door. My long hair is slumping in a fallen bun at the back of my neck, and loose strands hang free all around. I yank my scrunchy out and give my head a hard flip to release the bun.

The knock comes again. I sigh. Well, there’s nothing to be done. At least I put on a nice dress. It’s a seafoam colored sundress that I made a few months ago, and haven’t had the opportunity to wear yet because it’s a bit dressier than the others I have.

“Just a minute!” I call, abandoning my toast and hurrying towards the front room. The frame with its busted glass is still behind the door. I’ll have to remember to clean that up later.

I reach the door and put my eye to the peephole. Standing on my front stoop is the dark haired prince. He’s looking around casually, but appears to hear my hand on the doorknob because he straightens perceptibly and faces expectantly forward.

“Good morning,” I say, pulling the door open, then standing aside and gesturing him in. I decide it would be a bit rude to point out just how ‘morning’ it truly is.

He enters, eyes looking around for a moment then at me.

“Good morning.” His tone is a bit stiff. I don’t really know what to say next, so I turn and go to the couch and sit down, perched lightly on the edge of the seat, nervous. He just stands, watching me.

“Would you…like to sit down? Or like something to drink?” I offer, popping up immediately, and hurrying towards the kitchen.

“That would be fine,” He says, still sounding formal. I hear him follow behind me into the kitchen. The remains of the tonic I made for CiCi are spread out on the small counter area. I begin to quickly clear away the mortar and pestle, and carefully brush the remains of dried lavender and rosemary into my palm from the surface.

“I didn’t expect you so soon,” I say by way of explanation, feeling this doesn’t sound too impolite. I brush my hands lightly together over the sink. I glance over my shoulder and see that he’s looking at the mortar and pestle, which I set on a shelf to the side.

“You’re a witch?” He asks, and I burst out laughing. A witch? Seeing that he isn’t joking, I cover my smile with my hand until I can respond with a straight face,

“A witch? Oh, no. I don’t do magic or anything. I’m a priestess though. I make herbal tonics and extracts and things to heal people, or help them with- you know, illnesses?” I stop there because  much of what I do is considered a secret, and hard to understand for people who haven’t been trained.

“I also make tea, if you would like some,” I take down a wooden canister and begin scooping out the loose leaves.

He nods, still looking at the mortar and pestle, and waits quietly and patiently while I make tea.

Once back in the front room, I again perch on the couch. He sits down in the chair across from me. This entire time he has seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and after he takes a perfunctory sip, sets the cup down on the table in front of him.

“I’d like to apologize again for yesterday. Not just Bryl Cahrti, though his behavior was the worst of it.”

I wave a hand to dismiss it. I’m curious as to what he has to say, and don’t feel like the behavior of his companions reflects upon him, really.

“It is true, what I said, about why we are here. The Earth is one of the newest to gain extraorbital travel, and have joined into commerce with other worlds within this galaxy. The Merr need to assess if we will make official contact this early-“

“The Merr? What about the Vogwen?”

The corner of his mouth turns up in a slight smile, and he says,

“The Merr are Vogwen.”

 “Are the Merr a type of Vogwen or is that the name of your military?” He is again wearing his dusty teal colored jacket over a charcoal grey uniform of some kind.

He sees me looking at his coat, and nods, then says,

“You’re right in more ways than one. The Merr are a type of Vogwen and we are the military, in a way. The Merr Vogwen, as we are known, inhabit the planet Merr. There are two branches of Vogwen. Well, two official branches-the Merr, of course, and the Vogwen who inhabit a planet called Karista. It is far away from Merr, in distance and in custom.” He pauses for a moment, seeming to be thinking, picking the mug up distractedly and looking into it then back at me.

“Anyway, the Merr fleet is the pillar of our society,”

“The Merr society,” I interject, distinguishing between the Merr and the far away Karistans.

“Yes.”

“It sounds a bit as if CiCi was right and you’re appraising our world to see if you can take over,” I say it quickly, face feeling a bit hot. But it needs to be said up front because I’m not going to sit here and be charmed into telling him information about Earth that he can use to…invade or something.

He laughs and sits back, setting the tea mug down on the coffee table once again.

“What?” I ask, bewildered. I don’t see how what I said was funny, but it doesn’t seem to be a mean laugh.

“Your friend- CiCi did you say?- seems to know a lot more about the Merr than you.”

This time yesterday I would have defended her against his tone, or been perplexed by that statement, but after her behavior last evening, I feel like he may be right.

I don’t know what to say, and he spares me from trying to come up with something, because he continues,

“She speaks the Merr common tongue, or at least understands it. Which begs the question, where did you and she come from?”

“We were born here!” I stop, realizing even as I insist it that I don’t actually know where I was born and CiCi never explicitly told me where she was from, and she’s only lived in the village since I was about 13. My dawning doubts must be written on my face because Merryt steeples his fingers and points them toward me with a knowing look.

I continue, “Well, I’ve at least been here since I was a baby. My mother-well, I was adopted-anyway she found me almost drowned in the river. I was maybe a year and a half old.”

“Your adoptor is human?”

“Was. She died about three and a half years  ago.”

“And she was the queen before you?” A look of comprehension is beginning to form in his eyes.

“No. She was the High Priestess. We didn’t have a queen, until-“ I stop, not sure I feel like telling this story to a near stranger. I square my shoulders and say,

“I don’t think a minor village queen interests you very much.”

“Oh, but she does,” His unwavering gaze is intense for a moment. I look away towards the window as if I saw movement, then pick up my mug, and when I look back, he’s doing the same.

“Anyway, you were raised among the Earthen, in this village. So what’s the story behind your friend? I would very much like to know how two Vogwen females just happen to appear in the same village, when the Vogwen and the Earth aren’t in official contact.”

I shrug, genuinely unsure of what to say. And it occurs to me that if CiCi didn’t tell me why or how she’s here, maybe I shouldn’t talk too much about it to this prince.

“I guess it’s just a convenient coincidence. I’ve never met anyone else like us. I don’t think she and I are related. We don’t really look anything alike. Her ears are even different.”

He smiles another knowing smile.

“I noticed that too. Very interesting, how your ears fall out to the side, but hers are straight up and back.” I notice that his ears stand up and back like CiCi’s. I try to remember if his captains’ were the same. and I think they were.

“Typically, a Vogwen child is taught from infancy to hold their ears upright. It’s just good posture. Which makes me think your friend CiCi was raised among her own kind. Our own kind. Whereas, one can look at you and see right away that you weren’t,”

I can’t tell if that’s insulting or just a statement. His tone and general air of being are of casual confidence, maybe even mild arrogance.

“Which makes me wonder, where is her father?”

That’s an oddly specific way to ask about her family. And I don’t actually know anything about her family, father or otherwise.

“I think she’s an orphan,” I say, noncommittally. CiCi once mentioned that she didn’t have any family left and had been on her own for a while even by the time she came to Santa Veta. I remember when she wandered into town, a bit ragged looking, and very nervous and hungry. She stayed with me for a couple of months, and we became best friends from the start. Eventually, a small house became available just down the street from me, so we set her up there, and she’s lived there ever since.

I realize he’s looking at me still, and I say, “So...you said you’re the prince. Meaning you’ll be a king someday?”

He sits up, and says, “Emperor. Merr is an empire,”

“So were you named after the planet? Merryt?”

He stands up abruptly and says, “Would you like to walk with me, and we can talk? This environment is very different from Merr. So many trees. And I’ve been on ships for a long time, so fresh air would be welcome.”

Surprised at the sudden suggestion, but relieved and ready to move around and shake off some nervous energy, I agree. “But you may get hot in that coat,” I gesture towards his coat, because it looks thick, maybe wool.

“Is this place warm to you?” He asks, looking genuinely curious as we go through the front door, and I pull it closed behind me.

Now it’s MY turn to laugh, “It’s a rainforest!”

He looks at me blankly, then glances around wryly, and says, “Maybe there’s a translation error. I thought you said this is a rain forest? Forest, yes, I see,” He nods at the trees as we walk down the sidewalk, towards the edge of the village. “But, there is no rain?”

I smile to myself, enjoying suddenly the realization that I’m truly talking with an alien being.

“It’s not a translation error. You’re right, it’s called a rainforest. It’s not raining right now, but it’s the end of the dry season. I imagine if you stay around for more than a few days, you’ll see plenty of rain, though.”

He nods thoughtfully, and as we get to the end of the village, I say, “Would you like to walk in the forest or stay in the village? The river isn’t high right now, so the trails are very passable. It’s a bit cooler under the canopy, as well,” I remember that he asked if this place seems warm to me.

“I think I would like to see the forest for now,” He says, and so I lead the way towards the main trail that leads eventually down to the bank of the river, where we can walk for a long time unimpeded at this time of year, and maybe see a lot of wildlife.

To be continued...

[aloraundomiel]

Wartober/Kisstober - Day 4

I’ve decided to combine @rubinecorvus Wartober 2021 and @raincoffeeandfandoms Kisstober 2021 prompt challenges for double the fun and double the headache. :3

Day 4 - Navigate + Slow Kisses

WARNING: POETIC AND OVERLY METAPHORED ALLUSIONS TO SEX AHEAD

Dick has always loved maps.

As a boy he’d been obsessed with charting the world, one latitude at a time. He could see the peaks of the Himalayas on every globe. The jungles of Madagascar in every atlas. The sea currents. The depths of the Pacific Ocean in every naval chart.

He’d trailed bony boy hands over the lines of longitude, zigzagging past the equator and up to each pole in turn, imagining the far off lands detailed in perfect topography beneath his fingertips and what adventures they may hold. Wild animals perhaps. Inland seas the color of blue only dreamt of, brimming over with dolphins bearing their backs of gold. Rubies deep in the planet’s crust the size of a fist, too glamorous even for the most queenly neck. Anything beyond the tidy suburban monotony of Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

He’d joined the air force with a head full of boyish fantasies that never quite grew up. A misplaced Peter Pan training to plummet to the ground instead of fly, while fiery flak explodes in every direction. Dick falls from planes and navigation blows away, pulling it with him. A mere leaf in the wind. A tiny insignificant speck in a great big world.

He never lands in the lush tropical jungles of his childhood imagination. He never sets foot on the coastline with water so crystal clear you can see straight to the bottom. He lands in Hell. And there are no fantastic creatures here, no jewels or mountain-whisp clouds to chase. No sunsets over the curve of the horizon.

There’s only death. And fear. And the responsibility of leading men who look to him for guidance out of the smoke and into the daylight. He grips his compass like a lifeline and does his best. It’s almost good enough. They almost all make it to the next day.

Dick gets lost occasionally.

When he’s left to the watches of his chilly billet and the candles in the rest of the camp have long gone out. That’s when the isolation strikes hardest and the ghosts feel free to crowd in. They cast a shade so thick, he chokes, drowning on his own failures, his own insipidity. He wonders if he’ll ever make it out to see the sun again. If he’ll ever find the way back.

And then enters Nix.

With his sly, self assured grin and his dark, sardonic wit. He slips like a wish into Dick’s billet, or the potato cellar of a blown out building, or the back of the jeep when he purposely drives off the marked path. He takes Dick’s hand and cocks that brow that says “Trust me” and by God and all his angels, Dick does. He follows blindly and oh so willingly, grateful for the guide and indebted to Nix for knowing exactly when he’s in danger of venturing too far off course.

Nix strips him of the olive military wool that demands strict obedience. The color that barters not a hair of deviation from a pre-drawn map made by men who don’t know what it’s like to nose dive into the inferno of battle. Nix casts it away, tossing it to the floor and covers Dick’s skin with his own hands, paints him with his own array of colors. A black-brown fan of lashes skirting over his collarbone, the red of his mouth at Dick’s pulse point, coral pink tongue in the shell of his ear, the beach sand tan of his calloused fingers tightening around Dick’s naked bicep. Teeth with brightness to rival the Pacific white caps on his chest and abdomen. Eyes the color of expensive coffee from the tropics glancing up over his belt buckle, warm and rich.

Nix kisses him and he can feel the earth’s rotation slow beneath his feet.

Nix touches him and gravity is solid and real beneath his back once more.

Nix traces the constellation of Dick’s freckles with his lips and Dick can set time by the star’s orbit again.

He lets Nix take him apart and put him back together, piece by tattered piece. Until he’s whole and functional again, at least for a little while. Long enough to get his bearings and restart the cycle of playing tour guide through the landscape of dreary Europe, his band of Lost Boys in tow.

He comes to the siren song of Nix’s praises, his lover urging him on with clever fingers that play Dick's body like a well rehearsed instrument. When he’s caught his breath and regained his sense enough to flip their positions, Dick pins Nix down. Cages him against the cot and splays him wide, the scroll of his skin like fine golden parchment in the dim candlelight.

Nix squirms under the tenacious attention, craving speed and friction. But Dick is on a mission. He’ll recommit every part of him to memory, burying it deep in his psyche like treasure. Until the mental image of Nix bowing under his hand becomes as priceless and coveted as monstrous gemstones he can bask amongst at whim. Sorting them like a king sitting on his spoils. He’ll relearn the lines and transits of Nix’s form until he can recite in perfect detail the landmarks of his moles, the patterns of his body hair, the slope and angle of his wrists. He’ll stake his flag here, laying claim to Nix’s body and heart as conquistadors of old did to things and locations too precious to part with.

He can read his future in the curve of Nix’s hip bones. The universe in the earth tones of his eyes.

“Dick,” Nix whispers, something between a whine and a moan. He scraps desperate fingernails along Dick’s scalp, trying to steer his mouth where he needs it most. “Come on. Come on.”

Dick won’t be bullied off course. He runs the tip of his tongue along the shadow of the Adonis belt Nix used to have when he was in peak fighting shape at the start of the war, lingering at the scar just there above the pelvic crest. He lets his lips trek as fingertips do, memorizing the most scenic routes across and over and around this body he loves so dearly.

He steers southward down from the navel, following the trail of dark hair and Nix groans. He heads north to circumvent a nipple and Nix whimpers. He nibbles and sucks contrails on every inch he can find, until Nix bears the purple marks that label him as Dick’s territory and Dick’s alone.

He wrings curses and prayers and nonsense from Nix’s mouth. Until he arches beneath him and cries his release into the hush of Dick’s palm, breathy laughter squeezing through the spaces in Dick’s fingers.

“Jesus Christ,” Nix gasps, chest heaving with blasphemy and bliss. He tugs at Dick until he slides back up the length of his form, letting out the softest sigh for every slow kiss pressed to each body part on the journey up. “How do you do that? Remember exactly what gets me going? You always know.”

“I’m good at cartography,” Dick says.

“The hell does that mean?”

Dick just shrugs, cranes his neck down to pepper his shoulder with kisses.

Nix pulls a face that suggests Dick might be moderately insane, but then he laughs that ruby-ocean-wilderness-touchstone laugh of his and maneuvers Dick fully down on top of him for a long, lazy, silky sweet kiss. And though they’re both sated and satisfied for now, passing back and forth the same oxygen, filling each other's sails - it does not feel like journey’s end.

It feels like a beginning. Each and every time he’s with Nix and resets his course by the steady, unwavering foundation of his being. It’s always a new start. One he hopes against hope never stops resetting.

Because Nix has always been his True North.

Dick kisses his mouth and feels like he’s come home.

[mka1098]

I Ask For Your Hand In Marriage - A PJO Fanfic

A Percy Jackson Royal AU Fanfiction 

Description: Percy is a prince, Annabeth is a royal overseer and they both are idiots who don’t realize they are in love. 

Hear it read aloud here ! - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LY0R0M8ZiE&t=17s 

Chapter One

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…” 

In fact, Percy was not doing ‘nothing’. He was basically planking on a wooden stool; he had stolen it from the kitchens. “This  isn’t nothing.” Annabeth said with a pointed tone. Percy looked at her with big innocent seal eyes. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

 Technically, he wasn’t. He was just laying on the wooden stool, swimming in the air like a normal person. Because normal people did that right? Yeahh… they totally did. 

“Where on earth did you get that?” She asked, walking over to him and crossing her arms. Her eyes were on the stool and Percy smirked up at her.

 “Oh this old thing? It’s always been here; nice to see you taking note in my decorations.” He said sarcastically. 

Annabeth frowned. “Why is this in your room.” She said tiredly. She muttered, ``I'm so tired of this, under her breath. Percy ignored it.

 “Kitchens. I wanted to teach the kids how to swim but since they have to stay by their parents, it has to be in the air. And I’ve never swam in the air so I’m practicing.” He explained.

 The corner of Annabeth’s lips raised; she was holding back a smile. “You’re a dork.” She said affectionately. Percy practically flopped around the stool; his abs were hurting from trying to stay up.

 “I’m doing good.” Percy defended himself. Annabeth ruffled his hair, making it more messy than it already was. 

“You’re always trying too.” She said with a smile. “But get up, you have other duties to perform; those that pertain to more than just the children in the kitchens.” Annabeth dragged him up and off of the stool by the front of his sleep shirt. 

“Awww.” He whined but stood up straight, reveling in the visible cringe on Annabeth's face as he stood taller than her. 

“Get that smirk off your face and get dressed. We’re meeting with the King and Queen.” Annabeth said, picking up the stool to probably go put it back. 

Percy rolled his eyes. “Those are my parents. They’ve seen me as a naked baby. I don’t think they care about me in Pjs.” He said snarkily. Annabeth narrowed her grey eyes at him. 

“It’s good to get ready anyways.” She told him, pinching the fabric of his seas themed fleece PJ pants. 

Percy stuck his tongue out at her. “Just for you.” Percy said sassily, tearing off his shirt and shrugging on a ‘nicer’ sweatshirt. It was nicer because unlike the former, it had no holes in it. Annabeth scoffed and turned around to leave the room. 

“You don’t wanna be here when I change into jeans?” Percy called after her with a devilish laugh. 

”You wish, Jackson.” Annabeth threw behind her shoulder.

Percy chuckled to himself. Not only was Annabeth his best friend, but she was also his royal overseer; it was an uproar when they announced it. The past 3 kings had the same royal overseer so it had been a shock to everyone when a randam, non-noble teenage girl had been chosen by the crown prince to take that role. But truly, she was the best option. 

For one, Percy did not listen to anyone but Annabeth. There was no way even wise old Chiron could get him to follow the old traditions that he needed too. Annabeth was able to make Percy begrudgingly put on the formal suits and perform speeches. Not only that, she was responsible, smart and organized; all things a royal overseer needed to be. Percy was so happy to have her in his life. She was the best friend ever; she dealt with him and organized everything. And she was funny and caring and never let him get away with being an idiot. They had been friends for years, 12 to be exact. Annabeth knew him better than he knew himself. 

“That took far too long.” Annabeth deadpanned when Percy stepped out of his bedroom. He stuck his tongue out at her, as all adults do. 

“No big deal.” He said, throwing an arm around Annabeth's shoulders. She shoved it off with a frown. 

“You should still look your best and be on time. Nevermind the fact that they are your parents.” She chastised. 

Percy rolled his eyes but didn’t object or talk back. “Good morning!’ He chimed to the staff; they smiled widely and greeted him with optimistic remarks. Percy had always made it a goal to make all the staff feel welcome and seen. Maybe times in the past, they were regarded as tools and Percy resented that past. 

“I overheard your father has a huge proclamation for you.” One of the staff members said with a smirk.

 Percy tilted his head to the side? “Really? They just said they wanna talk to me.” He thought out loud. 

The staff member sent him a tense smile. “Hopefully you don’t mind his proclamation.” Percy’s eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. What? Why wouldn’t he like what his father had to say? At most, it would be oh add this class to your studies, retake this class, help the general with his plans, do more royal duties. He looked over to Annabeth who was scribbling in her journal; it held all her secrets, tasks and everything. He knew this because he had stolen it once and got judo flipped in return. 

“Do you know anything?” He asked curiously. She looked up to him. “No idea.” She said drily. 

Percy couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. Either way, he had no time to figure it out because Annabeth had pushed open the throne room doors. “Ah, you’re up.” His father said with mirth in his eyes. Percy rolled his eyes like an angsty teenager. 

“No, dad I’m sleepwalking.” He replied. His father turned to his mother. 

“He gets the sass from you.” Poseidon said. 

Sally laughed. “Don’t act like you didn't contribute.” She said in a sing-song voice. Poseidon ignored that. 

“My king and queen.” Annabeth said solemnly, bowing her head

. The entire family rolled their eyes; it was ridiculous that Annabeth still felt as if she needed to bow to them or say your highness. She had practically grown up running around their halls and spoke casually to Percy. Despite all their efforts, she always used royalty manners. Poseidon cleared his throat and looked at Percy.

 “Son.” He said curtly. “Father.” Percy replied with snark; Poseidon stifled a laugh. “You are 18 now. You are an adult-” The king started. Annabeth snorted halfway through muttering, I beg to differ, your highness. Snickering, he continued. “You are going to begin to take more pressing and complex royal duties when you are 25. Starting now as a legal adult, it is important you begin to take on roles for the public to see.” Percy nodded. His parents exchanged a look. “You must find a queen.”

Percy stumbled backwards… what? He needed to what? “Now?” Percy asked in an incredulous manner. He was met with serious nods and stares. “Why now?” He practically whined. 

Percy knew he was being a brat but… they telling him he needed to find the person he’d rule next to, have children with and spend the rest of his life with… now. At age 18! He couldn’t even figure out his favorite movie, much less his permanently future wife. 

“Perseus, you of all people know how difficult it is for power exchanges to occur. Especially for Princesses from outer and different kingdom. They are deliberate and must take time. Lot’s of time, as we must start now. You need a queen. Our subjects must not be led to believe you’re underqualified to be their king.” Poseidon said strictly. He was definitely thinking of the gossiping nobles. 

Percy sighed but nodded. “I get that.” He moped. His father nodded. “But why do I need to find a queen now? I’m not taking the throne for years, I don’t need to have an heir anytime soon.” He protested.

 This time, his mother spoke. “Percy, when you start managing all of your royal duties, you work in tandem with your future queen. It wouldn’t make sense to leave that space blank. A new king and queen won’t be able to handle an entire kingdom. You need to begin your interlocking duties in the next year, so that by the time you ascent; it’s as if you’ve been ruling for years. We can’t just thrust a new queen in the middle of that entire complicated and delicate situation. Your queen will be giving her input on most all of the pressing situations and you’ll have to work on covering each other's biases. You can’t do it all alone.” Sally said with a gentle smile. 

Still Percy frowned. 

“Can’t Annabeth take over the queen’s duties and input for the time being? I don’t want to rush a relationship. She already knows what to do. She knows me well and can cover the biases or my weak areas. The royal overseer already performs duties like this. We can do it until I find a queen.” Percy tried to convince his parents but they shook their heads. 

“No, Percy. That could cause a slew of drama. You’re not going to want that and nor will your future queen.” The king said. 

“She’s my best friend and she’s fit for the role!” Percy objected. 

This time, Annabeth told him to hush. “The future queen must never be a person to be deliberated over. She must be certain. Listen to what your father is saying, there was already an uproar when I became your overseer; I do not want to even imagine the outcome of me taking on queenly duties without taking that title in the future. And more so importantly than gossip… you must marry someone of Royal status. It would be beneficial for our kingdom to have another truce. No royal-blooded Princess would want a husband who has his ‘best friend’ take over her royal duties. Must less, a commoner.” Annabeth said firmly. 

The king nodded in agreement. Percy sighed in defeat. “I don’t like this. But fine. What am I even supposed to do though?” He asked. 

Sally smiled at Annabeth. “Annabeth has lovingly and painstakingly created a plan to help you.” Percy snorted. When did she not have a plan? “She has a list of Princesses from good reputation kingdoms and has invited them to spend a day with you.” Percy sputtered. 

“Whoa so this is like speed dating or something?” 

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot. It’s not speed dating; who do you think I am? Each week, you will meet with one Princess for a day. If you find that you’re extremely compatible with one of them; she will be your queen.” Annabeth explained, shoving her blonde curls behind her ears.

 Percy made a silent O with his mouth. Seaweed brain, she mouthed at him. “I’d say even though it’s rather untraditional; it is a plan that has a high probability of working.” His father said.

 Annabeth nodded. “It was created with Percy in mind, your highness. Which I will admit made it difficult.” She said with a smirk. Percy squawked offendedly. “And we thank you for the plan, Annabeth dear.” His mother said kindly.

 “No one else knows him well enough.” The blonde smiled politely and bowed her head. “That is all. You two can brief on it if you’d like.” Poseidon said. Percy left after telling his parents `I love you` and kissing his mother’s cheek; Annabeth bowed, said `thank you, my king and queen` and followed Percy out the door.

That’s Chapter One! I just had an idea and ran with it. 

[janeyseymour]

"the wrath of mama seymour- or whatever the hell I’ve been labelled as" -Jane

Jane takes it upon herself to handle some nasty comments one particular account has been leaving the queens.

WC: 3072

For the most part, the queens got rave reviews, and their queendom was full of love and support. Every once in a while though, the queens got some hate, specifically Anna of Cleves and Jane Seymour- the two queens who arguably had it the least bad. While the others got hate sometimes, it was never anything that the queens would deem as true. Some might tell Katherine or Anne that they were “whores”, but the two knew this was not true. History might have depicted them as this, but they lived their lives. They knew they weren’t. Anne had actively tried to reject the king, and Katherine was forced into her situations. What these people had said about Jane and Anna was true- or at least those two thought so.

The fourth queen wasn’t one to put up with the comments. She would openly complain about them to the other queens, and she had even made it a point to call out the hateful comments that she got. Jane Seymour wasn’t like this.

The silver queen, hot-tempered and not so kind in her first life, knew that if she had said anything, it would only fuel the hate comments. So, she stayed quiet about it, letting these comments eat at her slowly.

“You’re responsible for Anne’s death. Don’t you feel even the slightest bit guilty about that? Bitch.”

“We all know the “i’m a kind sweet mum” act is fake. If you’re a bitch, just show it and let us hate you.”

“You don’t even deserve to be in the show. You had it the easiest.”

“The only one he truly loved? He only loved you because you had a son. But that son died before he could even do anything. After you died, you still failed. You don’t deserve to be remembered as queen, and you definitely don’t deserve to be in the likes of the other queens.”

That one hurt. That one comment hurt. The third queen did what she could to let it roll off her shoulders, but to no avail. That comment made her stomach flip.

Still, she did her best to stay kind, finally deciding to put out a video on her Instagram in attempts to stop the hate coming her way.

“Hi queendom. It’s Jane,” she said as sweetly as she could. “I’m here to address something with all of you. As we know, the idea of the queendom is to build others up, not tear them down. Now, I know we all know I say in my song that I’m unbreakable.” She paused, mulling over how she was going to word this. Her tone lowered a bit as she spoke quietly, “But the truth is, I’m not.” Her voice broke a bit as she said this. “I see every comment you all leave. I see every direct message, every private message, all of it. The kind comments are so lovely, and I appreciate them all so much. The not-so-kind comments are few and far between, and for that I’m thankful, but the ones that I do see hurt. I think we all just need a reminder to be kind to one another. Please remember the golden rules we were all taught: treat people the way that you want to be treated. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. That’s all I have to say for today, but I’ll leave you with this- you are enough. I’m sending you all so much love! Thank you.” She blew a kiss to the phone and waved before turning the camera off. 

Almost immediately, fans started outpouring love to the third queen.

Roseamongstthethorns: i just wanna know who said something mean to jane because we are going to have some words

Sixqueenswalkintoabar: @janeyseymour we love u pls know that

AnnieBoleyn: whos talkin shit on my janey. I’ll fight em for u

Jane rolled her eyes at the green queen’s comment before replying.

JaneySeymour: @annieboleyn, i’m just speaking in general terms. Also, language dear.

AnnieBoleyn: @janeyseymour i say what i want #sorrynotsorry

Catherine_Aragon: you chaotic gremlin @annieboleyn

Jane laughed a bit at what Catherine had commented when she saw a notification pop up. A direct message from the account that had left that one particularly nasty comment.

Stop acting like you don’t talk shit on people. All you did was talk shit on Anne in your last life. That’s what got you the “queenly position” that you clearly didn’t deserve in the first place. Right? Just shut up bitch.

And so, Jane shut up. She ended up deleting her last post where all she did was try to address the issue, something that the other queens did quite often. She almost deleted her entire page accidentally (or not-so-accidentally if you asked the third queen).

“Janey! What are you trying to do: delete your whole account?” Anne teased. 

“N-No,” the silver queen stammered out. “I-I uh, was just trying to delete a post. I guess I just hit the wrong button. Could you show me how?” She feigned confusion. It worked- the blonde was always asking for social media guidance anyway. 

Everyday, this hateful account would send her messages. And every single day, against her better judgement, she opened the messages. The silver queen would roll her eyes and try to go on with her day, but it was affecting her, and the other queens were starting to take notice. 

“Mum?” Katherine tried to get her adoptive mother’s attention. “Are you okay?” She had glanced at Jane, who was staring at her phone with tears in her eyes. 

“Hmm?” The blonde lifted her gaze to the pink haired queen. “Oh.” She blinked away the tears. “I’m just fine dear. Just-”

“Are you having some trouble reading what’s on your screen?” The fifth queen was trying to be helpful. It was known in the house that the blonde wasn’t the most educated when it came to reading and writing. It was also known that Jane sometimes had a hard time reading what was on her screen if she didn’t have her glasses. “Here. I can help you.”

“Oh no, it’s nothing. I just-” The blonde was interrupted when the youngest queen took the phone out of her hand and read over the message on the screen, a horrified look appearing on her face. 

“This fucking account,” Katherine huffed. 

“Kit,” Jane sighed, never one for cursing unless necessary.

“Mum, this is necessary. This account has been harassing all of us.”

“Have they really been?” Jane’s interest piqued. Kat nodded her head. “Interesting.”

Over the next few days, Jane stayed quiet on social media. She saw the tweets and the comments on her “most recent post” asking why she deleted the video of her talking about being kind. Before she made her next move, she had to speak to the other queens. 

“Hey Lina?” Jane asked one night as she was making dinner, the first queen accompanying her. 

“What’s up Jane?”

“Kat told me about this horrid account and how they’ve been sending all of us hate messages. Do you mind if I take a look at what they’ve been sending you?”

“If you want, but you have to promise you won’t go all Mum.”

“I- I can’t promise that, but I’ll do my best.” The Hispanic handed over her phone, the messages already on screen. The first queen knew the exact account she was alluding to.

Queenly my ass. If you were so queenly, Henry wouldn’t have gone through all of the trouble he went through to divorce your sorry ass.

“What the-” 

“It’s really not a big deal mija. Whoever this is, they don’t matter. Just leave it be.”

“Annie?” Jane wandered into the second queen’s room as they were all winding down for bed that night.

“What’s up Janey? Need some makeup remover again?” the green queen laughed as she scrounged her room for the wipes that the third queen asked for every once in a while.

“Actually, no. I bought a big thing of them the other day. I came to ask about something else.”

“Oh. What’s up?” Anne unceremoniously threw herself down on her bed. 

“Kit and Lina were telling me about this awful account that has been-”

“Do you want to see the messages?” The blonde nodded, and the green queen threw her phone at the blonde. 

You deserved to be beheaded, you whore. You should’ve never been queen in the first place, chasing after the king and getting him to divorce Catherine. How does it feel to be so wanted for such a short amount of time before all you were was another body?

“Annie, know that is not true.”

“I know Janey. Why do you think I’ve just ignored it? He’s not worth any of our time anyway.”

“I mean, he’s going right against the entire reason for our show.”

“Yeah, but he’s just not worth it. Don’t go all Mama Bear on him, okay?” Jane shrugged.

“Cleves?” Jane made her way into the kitchen first thing in the morning. “Are you back from your run yet?” She pulled her robe close to her body, muffling a yawn as she reached for the coffee pot.

“Seymour, you’re up early,” the fourth queen noted as she walked in through the back door.

“Well you know we’re both the earliest risers. Anyway, I have a question for you.”

“You wanna see my phone to check for any messages from that one shit account on Instagram?”

“How- how did you know?” Jane sputtered, flabbergasted.

“I heard you talking to Aragon and Boleyn. Here.” Anna tossed the blonde her phone.

“I don’t have my glasses with me. Oh boy.” Jane squinted her eyes to see the text on the phone.

Ugly bitch. How’s it feel following the only queen he truly loved, only to be rejected 6 months later? Shouldn’t even be compared to the other five. No idea how you managed to get yourself into the group, you irrelevant bitch.

“What he said isn’t true Cleves. You earned your place here.”

“What he said isn’t far from the truth Seymour. I know I didn’t have it the worst. I arguably had it the best if we’re being honest.”

“Please don’t let what he said get to you.”

“Hey Cath?” Jane wandered into the writer’s room late at night, two mugs of tea in hand.

“What’s up Jane? Can't sleep?”

“Not really. I’ve had a few things on my mind lately.”

“That account that’s just been shitting on all of us lately?” The sixth queen looked at the blonde knowingly. Jane just nodded.

“Here.” Cathy handed over.

What other stories do you have to claim? How about the one where you allowed your husband to groom Elizabeth, Anne’s precious daughter, and you joined in? Why don’t you reclaim that one, you sick twisted bastard?

“He’s-” Jane started.

“He’s not wrong.”

“Anne’s forgiven you for that.”

“She has, but I’ll never forgive myself. Is there a reason you’re so invested in this one account?”

“They’ve sent some not so kind things to me in the past few days.”

“Hey Kat?” Jane nudged the girl sitting next to her. When she heard a hum, she continued, “Can you tell me what that one account was saying to you?”

“Oh, it’s really nothing far from what other hate messages I’ve gotten.”

“Can I see? Only if you want to show me. You don’t have to of course.” The pink haired queen silently passed her phone over. The blonde adjusted the glasses on her face before she began to read. 

You whore. You deserved to die. And I hope you felt that axe come down on your neck.

“Oh my god.” Jane was disgusted. 

Did you really think you posting a stupid video of yourself speaking about being kind would stop me? It won’t. You six are all terrible women and it’s honestly deplorable that you would paint yourselves to be angels and use your stories to embrace the power of women when you know you have no power. You never did. You were all terrible people in your past lives. There is no way you changed that much in your present life. Worthless bitches. 

To say the blonde was fuming was an understatement.

The next day, Jane went live- something she had never done before. It took her a few tries, but she was able to figure it out without any help from her fellow queens.

“Hello sweet queendom,” Jane said sweetly as she still tried to adjust her camera. “The other queens are out for the day, so I figured I would go live. We’re just going to wait a bit until a few more people get here, but then I have something that I’d like to say.”

The third queen greeted as many fans as she could as they made her way into the live, but she kept her eyes peeled for the one account that was sending them all hatred. As soon as she saw them enter, the warmth and love that had been in her eyes vanished.

“Ah, okay. I think we can get this started.”

Roseamongstthethorns: Why did you delete the video of you telling people to spread kindness?

“Well Rose, that’s actually why you’re all here right now. I have something to say about the hate that the fellow queens and I have been getting. So listen up, because I’m only going to say this once. Do you hear that, instagrammer1549?” She knew she was being ballsy calling out this one particular account, but there were no names attached to the account. She wasn’t doing anything to put this person full of hatred in danger. 

“We can all deal with some of the not so kind comments that are thrown our way. We as queens choose to ignore them and carry on with what we do because we love what we do. We support each other, and we hope that using our voices and sharing a part of our story will help empower other women to share their stories too. We’re all in this together. However, when you start coming at us for things that we couldn’t prevent, like... dying... let’s say, it is absolutely disgusting. Catherine couldn’t prevent being divorced. She handled that situation like a queen, even going as far to get down on her hands and knees and beg Henry to let her know what she did wrong. Anne refused the king for years. I couldn’t help that I died, and I certainly couldn’t help that my son, who you have no right to talk about, was plagued with a sickness that took him much too soon from this earth. You have no right to talk to Anna like that. She was beautiful then, and she is beautiful now. And even if she wasn’t so beautiful on the outside, she is so much more beautiful on the inside than you could ever be. You sending those comments does not help your case much. Katherine was forced into those relationships. She was a mere child, and we all know that children can not consent. How very dare you go and tell a young woman that you hope she felt it as the axe came down on her neck. What kind of, as you called Cathy, “sick, twisted bastard” says something like that to a nineteen year old? And finally, how dare you bring up horrid stories from our past and plague Cathy with the guilt of something that happened almost 500 years ago.”

Sixtudorqueens: okay Jane, go off. We support.

“None of us are perfect. We all know our imperfections, and we’ve all made peace with it. Yes, we all did some very questionable things in our past. What happened then, while we all are horrified at our past behaviors, we have forgiven each other because we know the truth of our story. We did what we had to do to survive. But, the six of us as a group have made such wonderful process in this life, and we are truly coming out of it better than we ever could have by ourselves. Those girls are my family. Say what you want about me. I don’t care. I have a family to help me build myself back up when haters tear me down and my heart is broken. But, so help me god, if I hear of one more person coming after any of our children or my sisters again for something so personal- well,” Jane laughed bitterly. “-quite frankly, you don't want to know what will happen. Keep your disgusting comments to yourself.”

The comment section blew up, and the amount of likes her live was getting was astronomical. 

Sixqueenswalkintoabar: okay mama seymour, GO OFF!

Roseamongsttthethorns: YES JANE. @instagrammer1549, there is a special place in hell for you.

Catherine_Aragon: Jane I thought we talked about not going Mum.

“Lina, I bit my tongue for long enough. It had to be said. On that note,” Jane paused to take a deep breath, the warmth that usually radiated off of her returning. “For the rest of the queendom who has shown us nothing but love and kindness, thank you. We really do see every message, comment and twitt-”

Sixtudorqueens: tweets*

“Tweet,” Jane corrected herself. “So thank you for that kindness. For now, I’m ending this live, but I do hope that you will all remember what I’ve said. Please, only spread kindness. That’s the, as Anne and Kat say, “vibe” that we’ve created for the queendom. If you don’t have anything nice to say, perhaps just don’t say anything at all. Please remember that you have a voice. Please remember to use that voice to spread kindness and love, not hatred. The world already has enough of that in the world. No need to create more.” With that, Jane ended the live.

“So,” Anne bit back a smirk at the dinner table that night.

“We all saw your live Seymour,” Anna bit the bullet and spoke about what they were all thinking.

“Kind of impressed you could figure that out without one of us Mum,” Katherine smiled slightly. “I'm proud of you.”

“What I said had to be said,” Jane affirmed as she took a bite of her dinner. “You don’t come after my family and not feel the wrath of “Mama Seymour” or whatever the hell I’ve been labelled as.”

[honestsycrets]

Hard Sell IV: Substitutes

❛ pairing | ivar x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | when his mother’s plan fails-- he can’t help notice Hvitserk getting a little too close.

❛  warnings | arguments, mention of slavery, impotency talk, mention of sex ‘toys’, lagertha x astrid reference, two way jealousy, mention of freydis x ivar (failed sex).

❛ sy’s notes | enjoy that mental picture okay? here you go, a sy 4B staple: jealousy, mention of sex, stupid boys with stupid issues.

He’s not sure of this.

Mother takes him to find a slave. Not just any slave-- she said-- a love slave. Someone that would make him feel good the nights where Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Bjorn were all having sex or otherwise occupied. Good enough, that’s fine, it’s okay. But…

“Isn’t this counterintuitive?” he asks, settled by her feet as she paced the dusty ground on her dainty, queenly feet.

“Do as I tell you and it will work,” he glances up, catching the sight of his woman-- his… you, walking inline with the men of your family. Not drunk, no, they’re rowdy all on their sober selves. They heave timber for trade near to where the slaves were traded. He catches your gaze as you run your hands together, drawing the wool scarf from your elbows up to cover your head.

God-- fuck. He wishes you wouldn’t do that. He can’t tear his eyes away. He knows why you’re dressed up. To draw in some lovely, drunk, stupid bastards to sell chunks of wood to. Your fingers flicker, tickling earrings that he knows his mother gave you. They’re gold. Your hand suddenly drops to pick up skirts, headed his way.

And he’s panicking. His heart strums out his chest, beating harder than any drummer could hit the skin of a drum, bounding out of his chest. “Ivar, which one do you want?”

You stop then.

Maybe you heard his mother speak. Your eyes have left him then, connecting with his mother’s hand, which held a lovely blonde lock of hair. And oh-- oh no, no, no. He wants to shout. When your eyes land back upon him, it’s with this pain. This soul wrenching, gut churning pain. He connects with your eyes again-- and it’s a slight shake that begs you not to listen to his mother.

But it’s impossible. Because you are.

You pull your dragging train and turn around. His heart drops into his stomach. He can’t bear it. Mother calls out to him again. “Ivar.”

“The blonde is fine, mother.”

The girl’s name is Freydis.

She is a little… attached, he realized. More than he needed her to be. She likes the attention. When he asks her to plate dinner and supply the ale, Ubbe chimes in. “Leave the girl alone,” Ubbe chews on his bone, flicking it onto his plate. Ivar has been abusing her all day, asking for her attention, because it’s fun and easy. 

And he almost forgets that you’re there, sipping a soup that has gone cold. Your eye had followed him all evening like a dog after its bone. He likes that even. To be the one that was being watched.  Even Bjorn had noticed-- and the man didn’t often notice what didn’t benefit him.

“She doesn’t mind,” Ivar cackles. “Do you, Freydis?”

It all came to a head when Ivar reached out, smoothed his palm over the curve of her well endowed ass, and squeezed. She doesn’t flinch, nor flick him off, but smiles as she pours him the ale. Her head is level, arrogant, pleased.

“No, Prince Ivar.”

The laughter dies on his tongue when you throw out your chair. It scratches along the planks, rivaled by the stomping steps that follow, beelining toward the door of the Great Hall even as Aslaug calls out your name.

“Look what you’ve done,” chimes Sigurd, his brother. Ivar, perhaps trying to convince himself, turns his head over one way and back. He draws a long sigh, trying to convince himself of what he’s about to say. 

“She’s too sensitive.”

Hvitserk drops his bone and glances to Ubbe for guidance. Staring like a puppy after a ball, he’s careful to wait until after Ubbe pushes out his chair first. After all, he knows the sort of man Ivar is. He can’t be the first one out.

Ivar watches the whole time.

It isn’t like you don’t want Ivar to find happiness.

It’s the exact opposite.

He deserves to be happy, healthy, and well-kept. If that slave-- the thrall Freydis, could give it to him, all the better. You’re not sure what has changed. Only that… the disrespect bothers you. That’s it. You chuck a rock and watch it bounce off the waters, plip, plip, plip.

He dared confess that to you-- naked. On bath day no less! That was your day to chase away worries and relax and he had complicated that with thought of his body and his love. Then, like a flip of the next smooth rock in your hand, he moved on. Like you were exchangeable. Just like that.

“What is it with him?” you ask to the figure who has crept beside you. Hvitserk, you don’t need to ask, you know it’s him. He’s the type of jolly hopper that would come up with that goofy ass smile on his face.

“He’s Ivar,” he rumbles.

You didn’t need that. “I know who he is. I just don’t know why.”

Your hands connect with your upper arms and he hops a little closer while making sense of it. His hands, searching up your arms, eventually stop just below your shoulders. You flick the rock in your hand out to the sea.

“He’s young.” He answers, like he’s the fucking star pupil of how to be a man, and you exhale out of your scrunched up nose. “He doesn’t know how to get a woman .”

“Then he shouldn’t have-- he fucked with me, Hvitserk. He told me that he loved me. He had me naked! Now he’s over there groping that--”

“Maybe he does love you.”

“It’s a lie,” you bark out, because you’re angry, and because nothing makes sense when it has to do with Ivar. Not anymore, anyway. You used to think you could ask him to fetch you the moon and his dumbass would seek it out. Maybe that was his love, though. And maybe-- you had abused by ignoring his many signs.

“You could always come with me.”

To the Mediterranean. Except you promised Ivar you wouldn’t. You draw your scarf over your head. Hvitserk, knowing that you needed that attention and touch, drew it back down. His large hand settled over your slight shoulders. “Warm waters and wet--”

“Do not,” you warn him, putting up your finger. “I’m not one of your men.”

“C’mon,” he turns you around. You realize-- just then. He’s big, boding, handsome. Well, in the sense that his boyish face only told curious little secrets of his plans, buried in his swirling eyes.  His thumb came up to caress your cheek of tears you hadn’t realized you spilled. “You can meet our uncle.”

Rollo the Traitor.

Exciting.

Hvitserk laughs. “You can at least make Ivar jealous.”

Did you even want that? Your turn, connecting your fist with Hvitserk’s shoulder. “You’re not my taste, Hvitserk.”

He cocks a smile. “I’m everyone’s taste, sweet thing.”

You couldn’t pretend that-- that didn’t make you flutter. Just a little.

The next time he sees you, it’s with Hvitserk.

Hvitserk has this thing he does. A thing that gets every woman to coo or some shit. He picks a shitty looking flower, presents it to the girl, and boom. Instant sex. In this case, however, you punch him in the shoulder.

“You think a puny little flower is going to do it? Do I look easy to you, Hvitserk? You must think I look easy.”

“I don’t see any other men picking you flowers.”

...there was a point there. One that Hvitserk has enough weight in that you look down, and he tips your chin back up, laughing almost. It was a joke! It was a joke!

It did not feel like a joke.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, dragging himself over the ground, getting closer. Thwacking his brother’s leg, he gets his attention. Just to save you from Hvitserk. Not at all because he was jealous or worried or anything. You probably were tired of puny flowers tucked behind your ear.

“Go away,” he rumbles.

Hvitserk does. But only after you nod. Which is annoying enough, because this attraction Hvitserk and you shared, it’s not natural. He knows its not. It’s almost… as if… 

“Take that stupid flower out of your hair,” Ivar tells you, dragging his feet around to sit up in the grassy blades. He wipes his hands over his brown trousers before folding them over his chest.

“Oh stupid?” you chuff out a laugh. “Hvitserk got it just for me.”

You emphasize ‘just for me’ in a way that makes his skin crawl. It’s some sort of revenge for the thrall-- Freydis-- who he slept in bed with every night. They kissed on occasion, touched one another, but he never could finish… you weighed on his mind, on his body that failed him that night. Hvitserk was different. He was… like his brothers. He didn’t give a ratsass who he hurt as long as he got what he wanted.

“I’m sure he did.” He glares. “And the rest of the women of Kattegat too.” 

“You can’t let me have this, can you?” You sit on the grass beside him, still not plucking the flower from your hair. The sight is aggravating. That’s why he leans over, plucks it out, and crumbles it between his fingers like trash.

“Why are you here?” you ask, shoving him away. As if he’s surprised, Ivar balances himself and looks at you like he’s something wounded. He shouldn’t be. It’s boiling over the rim now, spilling over you and him, covering you both in rage.

You can’t share his feelings when you know that Ivar has nothing to worry about. In his mind, there was a whole boatload of reasons why he should be concerned. They began with his brother. Ended with… whoever else was sailing off to the Mediterranean. Like Bjorn. When he looked at you-- that’s the one he truly dreaded. Bjorn had no charm to women but sex. Sex made women do stupid… men.

“To stop you from doing something stupid.” Doing-- meaning Hvitserk. There he is, injecting himself in something that had nothing to do with him, absolutely nothing. “He doesn’t care about you.”

“Sex has nothing to do with caring,” you tell Ivar. His heart stops there, strumming out of his chest, because you dared to say it.

“You’ve had sex with him?” he presses.

“Ivar.”

No, you hadn’t. He exhales, his eyes softening from their wild state, and he realizes what Hvitserk must be doing. He must be trying to take you with him to the Mediterranean. Aggravating sack of shit.

“You have that slave so stop managing my body as if it’s yours.”

“She’s not-- mother thought she would make you jealous.”

“Your mother?”

He looks down, his eyes stuck on his pants, even as you climb over him. He’s suddenly overwhelmed, his hands hovering in their place, unsure where to land. Your hands turn his cheek over, caressing his sideburns. He glances around, sure that someone is watching, and supports your weight with his hands.

“She thought you would… think,” he stutters. “We’ve been together.”

“And have you?”

“I can’t.”

“Now that’s a lie.” You laugh-- because the other day, on the back of his affection, you felt him. Ivar falls back on the pier, his hand over his forehead. And oh, he’s serious. You know when he begins to avoid you, avoid the topic.

“It’s not an issue with… It is keeping it.”

You’re not sure how to help that. You only know how to comfort him by laying at his side. Until a thought itches at the back of your mind. “You know,” he peers through the space of his meaty fingers. “There are other ways to--”

“Gods,” he barks your name. “That is not a substitute to pleasing a woman.”

“I hear Lagertha has Astrid use a horn.”

“A horn?” he asks bewildered, sitting up on his forearms now. You’ve rolled off to the side, using your fingers for emphasis. “You know, to--”

“What is the point in that? Could she not just have used--”

“Ragnar? I heard Astrid loved him. Perhaps Lagertha didn’t want to share.”

“Enough, enough. I meant her tongue.” He regrets ever having mentioned it. His fingers shift among his face, laughing deep enough in his discomfort that his cheeks gained colour. He doesn’t know what to say. But a part of him is curious when you climb over him again-- and it feels right. Your hand buries in his hair, dragging him close. “But did it work?”

“Yes!”

His fingers flick-- almost certainly curious. Based on the warmth bubbling in his belly-- it’s worth a shot. Hvitserk be damned, he wouldn’t ruin this for him. “Do you think… it would work?”

“Are you asking me? Or the girl?”

He pauses-- was that jealousy there? You already know the answer and yet, you push him on to say it. Just to hear it from his lips. “Just you.”

“Then I’d say… yes.” He wonders what that yes is to; sex or love. He has a mind to think it’s both; t's good enough for him.

@beyond-the-ashes @supernaturalvikingwhore @mblaqgi @wuxiesalt @hopplessdreamer @therealcalicali @rekdreams-fandom @moondustmemories @athroatfullofglass @poisonedjoinery @strangunddurm @shookforyoojung​ @peachesnpisces @tierneygonzalez​ @hexqueensupreme​ @nohemi2500​ @queenmissfit​ @alicedopey​ @dmv49​ @sallylebecks @terrainhead @mybarnesmyhero​ @youurkryptonite​ @lif3snotouttogetyou​ @vikingsmania​ @looneytunes20033 @bat-fam-blob @oneofthelothbroks @lovelynerdytraveler @chinduda @whatamood13 @honeyofthegods @ilvebeenabad @queenbeeta @wonderlandofsu@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid​ @lif3snotouttogetyou​ @gruffle1​ @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes​ @generic-fangirl​ @chinduda​ @laketaj24​, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa​, @inforapound​ @winchesterwife27​ @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl​ @sallydelys​  @bluearchersstuff​ @affectionrabbitt​ @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever

[anteroom-of-death]

Life, For Dummies p2

a/n: quarentine’s brought out the worst in me, does anyone know anything anymore? idk... i hope you all enjoy part 2! part 3′s got the spice in my mind’s plotting... slow burn anyone???

It had been roughly a week since you’d join the Master on his TARDIS. It was cozier and the console room was an actual room, like a living room. Sure it had all the little knobs and a control center, but it had a mini kitchen and couches and soft chairs. As well as whatever books he had been reading at the moment. 

Homey. Comforting even.

Today’s adventure was less relaxing than his first he brought you on: A spa planet. Three whole days of being rubbed down, being fed gorgeous tasting health foods and relaxation. Closest to being a dog that chills in a rich socalite’s handbag all day. He of course, joined you in these revelries, and you even joined him as he made little jokes about other species' appearances and gossip.

This time was him killing off an entire planet for a Empress’s cheek. He offered you pour over coffee and a Danish as he giggled over the ash filling the air from an Adirondack chair as you tried to mentally stop yourself from crying over this. You, Y/N, were here with a genocidal maniac and you should really get a grip. You signed up for this. Anything you saw was your own fault, you told yourself as you cautiously took the coffee from the man and sat next to him.

“I can tell you’re thinking, love.” He said, “Why don’t say what’s on your mind? Hmm?” 

“Why me?” You tore your eyes away from the sight of a giant building falling downwards on itself. “You could have taken Yaz or Ryan or hell, even pick some schlub off the streets!”

He raised his hand and raised his voice. “So the Doctor’s the only one who can take a pet or two or more?” His eyebrows raised, there he was, always sprinkling in the word “pet” usually it brought a shiver down your spine. But not today. Not now.

You huffed and groaned, rubbing your finger into your eye, “No, Master-” you said the word as if it wasn’t your kink, but a derogatory term. “Why me? What do you expect? Huh? You’re gonna go after her one day and I will be there, looking like a traitor or a double agent or what the fuck ever, and here I am, getting attached to you and I’ve just seen you nuke a fucking civilization? I’ve never seen that happen besides like, footage of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.” You manually stopped him with a raised hand and all the venom you could shoot from your eyes. “I can’t yet reconcile friendships! It’s like eighth grade all over again and Tammy doesn’t like Britney and Britney is friends with Joe but Joe like likes Tammy and Joe’s just over here wanting to blow his brains out!” You gesticulated this flowchart of emotional entanglement before slamming down the coffee and deciding to slam the TARDIS door shut. You didn’t want an answer anymore. You accidentally revealed too much. 

You didn’t know what you felt anymore.

Sure, the man was hotter than your wildest fantasies of what a hot person could look like, and the name was enough to bring out any other types of fantasies you could have. It’s not like you weren’t already shaking off dirty thoughts about him and various pieces of furniture in here. 

The Master frequented between slightly soft and vulnerable to ready to kill off anyone. That wasn’t the most stable of mindsets.

You began shaking where you stood. What if he was now going to kill you? You were a lot more disrespectful than the Empress was. Your breathing became erratic and there was a definite lump in your throat forming. This, out of all the ways you thought death would come to you, especially since Time Lords entered your life, wasn’t how you expected to die. 

He slammed open the door and you let out a scream before dissolving into hysterics. The scrap of dignity you had left told you not to beg for your life. 

For a split minute you tried to gather yourself up and over before getting back up and spitting through your tears, “Kill me, go ahead, I dare you to!” Your breathing sped up as your heart slammed, threatening to break your rib cage. You were so close to pissing yourself as you scrunched up your eyes, you didn’t want to see your death or the man before you shrinking you to dinky size. 

Would it hurt? You thought as you mentally started internerising all you hadn’t accomplished in life and the pile of dirty clothes you left at home. 

“Well,” Trying to sound braver than you were, “Get on with it!” 

Mirthful laughter started and got louder as you closed your eyes tighter and evened out your breathing. “Kill me!” It came out half begging at this point, the coffee stirring up the acid in your stomach

It was a second later that a sarcastic sounding applause started and you opened up your eye, only one. For caution. 

“You think I’m going to kill you because you talked back once?” He purred. “Is your opinion of me that warped?” 

Pointing outside, “I have my rights to think that!” 

“Oh please, she thinks she can speak to anyone in any tone all her life and doesn’t like when people tell her no once, so I had to. The rest of the people are just a perk to add to her little lesson in decorum…”

“Not fucking funny!” Hauling out and hitting him in the arm, “You really had me going! I aged more in the past minute than I have all my life!” You sat down and moaned in pain as you massaged your forehead and worked on breathing.

“It was fun, loads of it. You gotta admit it.” 

You groaned and leaned backwards on the couch pulling the thick afghan over your face. “Sadist.” You muttered into the thick weave.

It could have been your imagination, but you for a split second thought you heard from the other side of the room, “And don’t you love me for it.”

It could have been your dirty imagination creeping up again. Maybe…

It was like he could read your mind, and it was his own monkey bars to swing around on.Testing you out and seeing how you’d react. 

Not that you’d expect someone who’s name was The Master to do anything differently…

Not that when you saw him and learned what his name was that you weren’t gunning to board the plane into subspace from dipshit-ville. 

Hearing him start the TARDIS up and go for another destination, you pulled it off your face and around you like a shawl, “So why does yours change shape all the time and seem like you don’t have to run around the console?”

“Hers is meant for multiple people to fly and it’s very, very broken.”

Of course, you rolled your eyes.

“It’s supposed to blend in, do what it’s pilot says. You know, rather like a car. You wouldn’t bring a dinky muddy Jeep Wrangler to a proper black tie event? Would you.” He flipped a switch and started entering coordinates into the touch screen.

“If you ain’t a pussy.” You muttered again. The statement smacked of classism you felt.

He elected to ignore that. Thank G-d. 

“So what are you in the mood for, Y/N? The best traditional Earth food the 34th century can offer or a nice shallow grave I can chuck your willing corpse into.” He smirked and wrinkled his nose at you.

“Woah. King of the non-sequitur.” 

“What even is ‘traditional’ Earth food?” Last time you checked, there were hundreds of what could be argued as “traditional” Earth foods. Your curiosity was genuinely piqued. “Yeah…” you nasalled, “Gimmie the best Earth food the 34th century can offer!” You leaned back down on the couch. 

“Get dressed better.” He ordered. 

You slumped off to the massive wardrobe and got something comfy yet nice looking. Just in case you had to run away from an explosion or something. 

Schlepping out of the depths, you twirled around, “I’m decent.” 

He made a noise like the Jeopardy buzzer. “Utterly not. Try again.” 

You did. 

Another buzzer noise. 

Third times a charm, you even put on a nice corset dress and a slide-on pair of sneakers. 

He marched you up in yourself ranting about how humans couldn’t be half-arsed to make their own decisions and he should just start picking your clothing out for you. 

You held your tongue and just waited for it to be over. 

“Get undressed.” He flipped a hand at you. 

Of all the places to strip down, in front of an alien was not on the list. It wasn’t like it was the person at the lingerie store sizing you up for a bra and panties. It was a man, alien albeit, and he was seeing you in your Hello Kitty underwear and tattered nude bra. Humiliating. 

“What do I even wear? You couldn’t even whip out the Space-Zagat or tell me how many Space Michelin Stars this place has!” You covered your stomach with your hands in an attempt at modesty. 

He went over to the hanger next to the door and seemingly manifested a shimmery purple ombre tulle gown and some glitzy silver strap heels.

He hastily unzipped it and said, “Pop in.” and you slid in as he zipped it up, you felt the warmth of his hands linger on the small of your back and the nape of your neck. He took his index finger and slid it up, the corner of the nail slightly catching on the soft baby hairs at the bottom of your scalp. You shivered and had a sharp intake of breath. You nearly felt more tears spring up for today. That felt good.

Suddenly, you felt a clink of a thick chain lock around your neck. “Turn around…” He ordered again, softly. He pointed towards a mirror. The sight of yourself was bewildering. It was off the shoulder and flattered you a little too much. It, paired with the solid gold chainmail necklace made you look almost regal? Queenly. All the big words. 

“Oh wow…” The words almost came out a choked garble, and yet barely above a whisper. The image before you was beautiful, and he was looming in the background, dressed to the nines to match in purple and gold. 

Then you exhaled. 

You looked like a power couple, like Bradjelina before the split, or Michelle and Barack Obama. You were sad how well you looked together. Though, how can an alien, especially when you saw what the females of the species did- eat a bar of soap and act like a racoon on trash night. 

You shook the lovely thoughts of that away. Tonight and the sensation of his slightly calloused, warm hands on your body were enough lust for one lifetime. 

“We’ve arrived.” He noted, drawing you out of yet another blank faced reverie.

You and your damn reveries. 

That’d be your death. 

Sashaying out as he took your hand and led you into this obviously very fancy and very expensive restaurant’s coat room from what looked like a small cupboard he led you to the reception where a humanoid with grey skin and spikes on their nose sat, “Name?” They drew lazily, a curious brow spike raised at the pair of you. 

“You will give us the best table and give us the best recreation-vintage.” He stated as if he was asking the weather. The creature looked dumbstruck and walked you to the table at the end of the dining hall, looking out on the vastness of space with planets twinkling and stars churning out light in the distance. The darkness contrasted well with the silver and whites of the place. 

As if by meaning, the pair of you stood out. Everyone else was in muted silver tones and you were specks of color demanding attention and respect. The center of a very odd universe. 

“Cotes du Rhone Red…” The waitstaff converged to you, “Sir, the finest of the Spiced Cheese Triangles...made this morning.” “Madame…” They all started simping postulating towards you.

Once you got your orders taken, you bit into one of the so called “Spiced Cheese Triangles”, it was a Dorito. 

“These are Doritos.” You whispered scandalised. “Do-rit-os.” He laughed, “Classic Earth food. You know how it is. The poor people love the food, the rich come in, spruce up the area, paint over the color, then charge a dozen times more for the same food. Don’t you know gentrification when you see it?” 

You guwaffed before taking a sip of your wine. The place was quiet except for the hushed chatter and soft sounds of eating. No music. Just the chasm of looking out into space. You rested your chin on your wrists and looked out. Where were you? Where was this place? So many questions scraped around your brain.

“You’re in the Black Eye Galaxy…” He responded quietly, “At the corner of it that looks into the mighty center…” 

You poked at your temple then towards his face. “I knew it!” You accused in a breath. “You can read my mind!” You leaned back and crossed your arms, “And you have me scrambling to find words every second of every day.” 

He winked. “A little. Human brains are very easy to rifle around in. I try not to read yours. Out of respect. I don’t mean to, all Time Lords are sensitive to the psychic vibrations of others. I was just a little more good at that when I was child. I use it to my advantage. Especially all things…” He trailed off, eyes growing dark. You made a mental note to pry later. Then tried to hide that and wipe it. He could read your mind, and you had to wrap your mind around that and compartmentalize that for another day. You didn’t want to ruin this lovely moment. Or a lovely half of a moment since it suddenly got dark. Your food got served and you continued to stare off into the great abyss of space. 

“Y/N?” Asked the Master. 

“Yes, Master?” You looked at him. His eyes were impossibly large and impossibly soft, framed by the longest and softest black lashes. It was strange how a man so universally feared and prone to fire-starting was capable of such a baby face. 

“I want you to tell me what you’re thinking. I’d rather not read your mind.” 

You felt yourself swallow a sudden lump in your throat. 

“I’ll work on it.” You promised.

Were you falling in love with him? Was this love? More confusion ebbed at your head. You scraped at your eyebrow with your pinky nail. 

You shoved that down deep into the caverns of your brain, where you kept your ballerina dreams and daddy issues.

You ate quietly. He barely seemed to touch a thing however. The evening drew on in a realm between too comfortable and oddly disheartening. 

As the evening drew to a close, he didn’t even pay. He just said to the waitress, “We’re finished.” And walked back to the TARDIS. This time not holding your hand. You didn’t know if that was a sign for you to grow up and stop fantasizing. You could take a hint. You weren’t as dumb as you looked. 

You marched to your room and couldn’t yet bear to rip your beautiful outfit from yourself. Especially the necklace, it felt oddly right. Like a collar or a letterman jacket. Something definitive of a bond. You sniffled. No more tears.

Wall of emotional protection, back up. Time to protect yourself. There’s no condom for your heart- you told yourself.

You went out back to the small kitchenette in the console room and made yourself a cup of tea to settle your stomach and saw him leaning over the counter of his little planning station, papers askew, hair mussed. It was sinful for one man to look insanely good while plotting something. 

“You’re still dressed?” He asked. Of course he’d stripped into something more comfortable, an unbuttoned waistcoat and jeans, a simple light purple button up. Did he sleep? You were contemplating PJs.

“Yeah. Problem?” You shrugged.

The look given was indescribable. 

“Utterly indecent.” He shook his head. He turned away for a second to bookmark the thick book he had. The way his jeans- midrise- shift around his bum was something funky. His hips were a bit wide so they slung over his body lavisciously. You caught yourself staring at it 

“Oh for fucks sake.” He said looking at you, your mouth sideways gaped, like you were some truck driver eyeing up a dime a ride whore at the stop. For all the rollercoaster of the day, the Master was breathtaking to look at.

He was in your mind again, and you were too tired and emotionally strung out to care. 

“I just want tea.”...and you, you mentally added, hoping that he’d get the subtext and either kill you to stop you from humiliating yourself further or make a move. Either or, it was something. 

He made a tutting noise and said, “Oh, you’d have to give me something in return.” A grin that was thoroughly wicked and possibly evil crept up and warmth flooded his eyes. His perfectly white teeth flashing dangerously in the ambient lighting. 

“What’s that?” You opened the line for bartering. You slid onto the table he was working at. Tea could wait for a second. Things just got interesting. 

He put one of those larger than life hangs on your neck and rested the crook of his thumb on your jaw, and petted it slightly. The rest of his fingers slightly applied a pressure to the base of your skull. His eyes traced over your face as he contemplated. He licked his lips slightly before speaking.

“I want you, fully. No more thoughts of ‘Oh, what if the Doctor catches us?’ or if you’re a traitor to her just because you are mine now. If she was truly a friend to you, and not just a preoccupation…”He cocked his head and focused his eyes on your lips. “She’d grant you this…” He moved his thumb down to the hollow of your jaw and pressed it. “She’d let you.” You closed your eyes and fluttered your eyelashes flipping around the millions of pro’s and con’s. You felt yourself relax and your body made your choices for you, you weren’t fighting it anymore. 

“What do you say, love?” He breathed in a husky tone.

“Yes.”

“Yes, who?” He chided in a guiding tone.

“Yes, Master.” 

“Good girl.” He laughed and dipped you down on the table inhaling your lips inward and pressed down with his free hand on your hip.

Giving up never would feel so good...

[calibansprincessx]

Hell is Hot CH 6- The Coronation

Thank you all for so much love! @kanakalala458 @elizaglad @queenhumanoid @lachicademarcasrojas

Caliban and I enter from opposite entrances meeting in the middle before our thrones. This was  the first time I had seen him since we departed to get ready. He was in a gold trench coat that bared his chest and black pants. He looked so handsome the way the gold meshed with his hair.

“You look rather gorgeous, my queen.” He said grabbing my hand to help onto the throne before he sat in the one beside me. 

“As do you, my king.” I said smiling at him. This was the first time I played along in this flirtatious banter and I hate that I could get used to doing this all the time with him. It felt like a crime to be moving on so fast but i didn't think this relationship would be anything more than political.

Lucifer stood in the middle of us addressing the courts of hell who waited before us. “I present to thee my first born, Sabrina Mornigstar and her consort Caliban Prince of Hell. Sabrina Morningstar, Proud lady of Pandemonium, Maiden of Shadows and Queen of Hell. Caliban, Prince of Hell now King of hell, Ruler of Darkness and Lord of Pandemonium. Hail Sabrina! Hail Caliban!” 

“Hail Sabrina! Hail Caliban!” The court shouted in unison. 

Lilith gestured to Caliban and I to stand up. Caliban stood up and held his hand out for me. I took his hand and stood with him before the Courts of Hell officially coronated as King and Queen of Hell, husband and wife. 

“Now Sabrina and Caliban will dance, as King and Queen to the Moonlight Sonata.” Lucifer continued before stepping back next to Lilith. 

Caliban leads me to the center of the room as we begin to dance. 

“Do you think you can get used to this, Sabrina?” He says looking down desirably at me. 

Everytime he looks at me like that I feel like there's a lump in my throat. “Which part?” I said raising an eyebrow and grinning at him. 

“All of it, Hell and me.” He said seriously but masking it with a flirty smirk.

“You're not so bad to be married too I suppose but maybe we can get to know each other a little better.” I say not breaking eye contact.

“What would you like to know about me princess?” Caliban said bringing his face closer to mine. I could feel his breath against my neck. 

“I uh--uh--” I began before Lucifer came to our side. 

“Shall I cut in for a dance with my darling daughter?” Lucifer said holding his hand out for mine.

“Of course, Dark Lord.” Caliban says handing my hand over to him. 

“Ah now isn't this better? All the power your feeling? Already pulling the wool over my eyes with your little surprise marriage. Don't forget who you're dealing with just because your Queen of Hell, Sabrina.” He says earnestly. 

“I am a Morningstar aren't i? This is what you wanted, Lucifer. You wanted me to embrace all my power, so I am. Things are going to be different around here.” I said firmly.

“Don't get carried away first born, you're still new here.” The Dark Lord whispered in my ear before the song ended and the dance finished. 

The courts danced for awhile while Caliban and I sat in our thrones hand and hand watching. After the coronation Lilith showed us where our room was.

My mouth almost fell to the floor in awe. The room was giant, draped in gold and black with his and hers closets and a full bathroom. The bed looked like it was 3 of my beds all put together with gold satin sheets.

“Wow.” Was all I could breathe out. “Uh thank you Lilith.” 

“Of course, your clothes are in your closet.” She says walking away.

I was sort of nervous to spend my first night with Caliban and I had no idea how to go about it.

“Uh, well i’m gonna go shower and get ready for bed.” I said, scared to make eye contact as I walked towards the closet to grab something to wear.

He smirked devillishy at me sensing my nervousness. “As you wish my queen, do let me know if you need any company.” 

I grab a gold silk slip, black lace bralette with matching underwear and head into the bathroom.

While I'm showering I'm thinking about what could be going through Caliban’s head. Does he think were gonna have sex? Am I ready for that? I mean I'm certainly attracted to him and we are getting closer but I still barely know him. I get out of the shower, towel off and put my clothes on. When I walk out Caliban is in nothing but black boxer briefs and my cheeks feel hot. 

I get into bed and get under the covers. “I took a week off school so I could stay down here while i learn my new powers, how to run Hell and getting to know you.” I say firmly. 

“Hm is that so? You know you never answered me earlier.” He said smirking at me as he walked over to get into bed as well.

“Huh I don't recall.” I say flirtatiously, knowing exactly what he was referring to.

He left no space between us. I could feel the warmth of his body as he began to move a piece of hair out of my face. “What would my wife like to know about me?” he whispered gently but it felt so strong.

“Your character. I want to spend time with you, learning your character.” I said not moving an inch. 

“Whatever you wish to know about me is yours, beloved.” His lips crashed onto mine softly and passionately all at once. 

We began making out, it was the first time I really gave in to kissing him. The feelings I feel with him are so intense I get lost in them. 

He pulls away from the kiss looking at me lustfully. “Should we consummate our marriage my darling queen?” 

I so badly wanted to say yes but I wanted to make sure what I felt for him was more than lust even if are married. 

I lean in giving him a longing kiss before pulling away to look at him. “I like you Caliban and I do think I want this to be more than political but I also want to get to know you more before we move any further.” 

He caresses my face. “As you command, my queen.” 

We lay down and I sleep in his arms all night so peacefully. When I wake up Caliban is already dressed reading a book next to me in bed. 

“Morning my queen are you ready to learn of your duties?” He said looking down at me happily. 

“Caliban what are you doing up already?” I said sleepily as I began to wake up.    

“I don't need sleep remember, my lady?” He said flipping a page in his book.

“So you stayed in bed and cuddled me all night even though you don't sleep?” I questioned.

“After you fell asleep you looked so comfortable so I stayed, I didn't mind.” He said smiling affectionately. 

“I’m going to pop up to see my aunties before I start learning my queenly duties, it will be fast.” I said getting out of bed finally.

“Am I to come?” He says, still reading through his book.

“No it's okay, I won't be long.” I yelled from the bathroom where I was getting dressed. 

I gave him a kiss before flames encircled me teleporting me to the academy.

I walk into what used to be Blackwood’s office and find Aunt Hilda and Aunt Zelda.

“Hey auntie’s” I said excitedly.

“Sabrina! What are you doing here?” Aunt Zelda exclaims shocked as Aunt Hilda begins to coo and pull me into an embrace. 

“Ooooooh dearie how was your first night in Hell? Alright? Do you want me to send you some lemon pie and lavender tea back with you?” Aunt Hilda utters comfortably. 

“It was fine auntie, the room is actually really big and beautiful.” I exclaimed.

“I am sure it was a most eventful night full of consummation.” Aunt Zee retorted.

“Auntie! We didn't “consummate”, it was a long day so we went to bed and that's all i am going to say about that.” I replied.

“Oh Zelda you're so overt.” Aunt Hilda remarks

“Oh honestly Sabrina you're going to have to give into your lust filled desires eventually. Don't make coitus more than what it is.” Aunt Zelda says blandly.

“Oh my god Aunt Zee i am not talking about this anyways what's going on with the academy? Shouldnt you guys be giving a class?”

“The students have the day off as long as they're either studying their studies or reading while Mambo Marie and I put together a new curriculum.” Aunt Zee says putting down a piece of paper and taking a drag off her cigarette.

“And I have a date with Dr Cee to discuss wedding plans” Aunt Hilda comments eagerly.

“Ah yes another wedding but do be back sister I wanted to discuss the curriculum and your position with you. Since Mambo is here I wont be needing your help as much which gives you more time to participate in your extracurriculars.” Aunt Zelda states.

Hilda nods her head. “Well I'm off then.” She says nervously and eagerly walking out of the door.

I wave bye to Aunt Hilda before turning back to look at Aunt Zelda. “Do you know where I can find Ambrose, Aunt Zee?” I asked.

“Probably in the library where he always drown his sorrows.” She remarks. 

“Okay bye auntie i’ll be up to visit again soon.” I said as I began to walk out of the office and towards the library.

As I'm walking towards the library Nick and I almost run into each other. 

“Nick… how are you?” I came out with.

“Uh--Sabrina i’ve been good-- i've um-- i've been seeing someone, thanks to Ambrose. Hey uh-- i'm sorry… for everything. I uh-- heard you got married.” He chokes out.

“I’m sorry too Nick. I should've told you about Caliban’s and I alignment but everything was so off and painful between us. It made the most sense to keep the realms in balance.” I replied heartily.

“Is that all it is? Keeping the realms in balance?” He responded, heartbreak written on his face.

I looked down.”That’s what it started as.” I pulled him into an embrace. “Im sorry, Nick” I whispered into his ear.

“Its okay, Spellman.” He replied joining in the embrace. 

“Friends?” I whispered back. All the pain i once felt for our broken relationship was replaced with guilt for moving on and not feeling so heartbroken

We pulled out of the embrace. “Yeah.” He breathed out. “I’m just going to need some time.” 

I nod my head and begin to walk away watching tears brim in his eyes.

I finally reached the library and found Ambrose sitting at a desk surrounded by books, reading. 

“Hey Ambrose.” I announce.

“Cousin, what brings you up for a visit?” He asks surprised.

“You guys act like i've been gone for a year already. I just came to say hi before I had to do some Hell stuff. Aunt Zee said you were drowning your sorrows here, what's going on?”

“Ah I am alright cousin, Prudence still isn't speaking with me and I don't necessarily blame her.” He says setting his book down.

“Give her a few days she just needs to let off some steam.” I respond hopefully. 

“She’s really beating herself up over Dorcas and Agatha. I should've let her kill Blackwood when we had the chance.” He speaks frustrated as he drags his hands down his face. 

“Wait! Maybe I can help.” I speak with an idea brewing. “There’s not much I can do for Agatha since she’s still missing but I can maybe bring Dorcas back.” 

Ambrose jumps out of his seat. “What? How cousin, tell me?” 

“I should have all the powers I had when the Dark Lord made me his sword. I brought Melvin, Elspeth and you back from death so why not Dorcas?” I state.

“We have to find Prudence. She buried Dorcas here at the academy I think.” He announces hurriedly. So we rush to find Prudence and some time later we find her on the steps of the academy.

“Prudence!” I shouted when I found her. 

“What is it, Sabrina?” Prudence replies confused.

“Where’s Dorcas?” I responded hurriedly.

“She's gone. What do you need with her?” She remarks.

“I know Prudence and I want to try to bring her back.” I state calmly now.

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “What?” She breathes out.

“Prudence you remember what I could do with the Dark Lord’s power, well I should have the same power now since I am Queen of Hell.” I signify.

She stands up not breaking eye contact with me, never acknowledging Ambrose. “Do you really think you can?” 

“Lets try.” I spoke with confidence.

“Follow me.” she said walking away letting a single tear fall.

We reach Dorcas’s grave and Prudence begins digging before Ambrose stops her and takes over. In no time Ambrose had the grave dug up and was bringing Dorcas out to lay flat on the ground. I kneeled beside her and Prudence kneeled on the other side.

I closed my eyes and placed my hands on her chest above her heart. “Dorcas hear me, your heart can beat again. Your lungs and heart are strong. Take breath into your lungs and wake now. Rise.” I opened my eyes. “Did it work? Did it work, Sabrina?” asks anxiously. Before I could respond Dorcas sits up coughing up dirt from her lungs gasping for air. 

“Sister! Sister!” Prudence exclaimed. She looked up at me. “Thank you, Sabrina.” 

“Agatha.” Dorcas whispered once she caught her breath.

“Of course Prudence.” I beamed down at her. Ambrose came bent down where I was standing handing Dorcas water and a biscuit. I hadn't even noticed he left during the whole ordeal. 

“She’s gone, Dorcas. Driven mad by The God Pan and ran off after-- after killing you.” Prudence whispered holding Dorcas close.

“Ambrose I have to get back, make sure they get into the academy safely.” I said as Prudence and Dorcas stared at me in disbelief. 

Ambrose stood up pulling me into an embrace. “Thank you cousin, thank you.” He breathed out almost breathlessly.

“Anytime Ambrose.” I said before fire closed around me transporting me back to Hell.

[houseplant-central]

Padme Amidala part one; why did the madonna/whore complex give this woman sharpshooting skills?

This is going to be part one of a two part post about the star wars prequel films (sorry in advance about that), specifically Padme and her role as the only important female character in the 90s triliogy. This post will talk about the first two films, and the next post will talk about the third and final film. Keep in mind that I did not see the prequel films until I was an adult (which is kind of weird, since the prequels have a lot more kid oriented jokes (from C3PO getting assembled wrong on the assembly line in film two and making a series of bad puns to everything about jar jar binks (which, as a side note, YIKES we dont stan racist comedy here, but the "humor" with him was clearly directed at kids)). That being said I think the three films over all are a hilarious product of the 90s and I'm not trying to start discourse about wether they're objectively good or bad-- they are both, and that's okay. What I'm interested in is Padme. The "Madonna"/"Whore" dicotemy is a freudian idea. I don't neccisarily believe that it happens with all men in real life, and I certainly don't think we should excuse it in real life, but I DO think it is previlant in writing, and the way female characters are written (both presently and in the past). The madonna/whore dicotemy basically boils down to the idea that men view women either as "good" virtuous people (the madonna, a maternal figure and an eternal virgin) whom they love but could never sexualize, OR as sexually interesting companions (the whore), whome they desire but could never love. This of course, in the real world is a bullshit excuse for putting women into patriarical boxes based on their outwards apperance and if any man ever gives you "well now I genuinely care about you so I feel like I can't sexualize you" it's time to go because that sexualization inherently included violence if he's now worried about thinking like that around you. There is plenty of feminist literature written about this concept and I highly reccomend a look into it because it's fascinating (try starting with even just the abstract for this paper: https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2018-04940-001). However! What I'm here to talk about today is how writers unconciously use this dicotemy with their female characters, and why, specifically, when Padme gets graduated from Madonna to Whore in Attack of the Clones, she suddenly knows how to fight when she couldn't before. My aim is not to conclusively say why, because I've been analyzing these films for the past couple days and I still have no idea why, but rather just to bring the question up, and provide evidence, as it is a fascinating phenonmeon of the 90s that I feel many female characters got treated to (with Padme as a prime example). Lets talk about Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones and the Madonna/ Whore. In Phantom Menace we're introduced to Padme (Natalie Portman) as an intellegent diplomat. When she's not done up in her planet's traditional leader's dress, she's in long sleeved simple dresses, tights and braids. She wears natural make up in her "maid disguise" for which she is in ninty percent of the film, and in the famously creepy "tucking in anakin" scene she is for some reason in the whole royal maid getup which includes gloves and covering her hair. Cultural modesty for the royal maids was written in to the worldbuilding, but it seems to have been done larely so that they could get away with having Natalie Portman play young Padme in this film and not be "sexy" until film two in which she is teenage Padme. Padme plays an extremely maternal role for Anakin in Phantom Menace, from physically protecting him to the aformentioned tuck in scene at 1:19:30 where she quite literally tucks him in for bed. This of course has been analyzed all to hell already as exceedingly WEIRD because the two eventually marry and have children together (so the freud analysis here is valid). We'll take a quick break for a digression here on Padme's age. I've refered to her in Phantom Menace as "young Padme", but realistically she is just Portman minus the makeup she's allowed to wear in later films. We know that she's the "child-ruler" of her nation, but she also realistically feels like she's in her early teens in Phantom Menace, and is certainly treated like an adult by her peers; we see her throughout the film making decisions on foriegn policy, wartime politics and wartime sacrifices. Anakin was most definietly a child in the first film, and was replaced by an adult actor in the subsequent films as his character aged, and this difference makes it feel like there's a very large and very weird age gap between the two characters. But fully back to the matter at hand, Padme is a very maternal, modest character in Phantom Menace both in apperance and in dialouge, and she clearly establishes that she views Anakin as a child. In Attack of the Clones, when the romance plotline starts, suddenly Padme is allowed to be sexy (by 90s standards anyways). She gets jewlery, she gets makeup, and she gets a whole lot more ARMS and shoulders showing that she was previously allowed (specifically see 44:30 when they travel back to Naboo). Of course this is to coincide with her growing up, but the fact of the matter is that Padme gets to be attractive when the script calls for Anakin to be attracted to her. There are still some traditional queenly outfits, but by the time they're ready to go rescue Obi Wan, she's in a skin tight white jumpsuit (which eventually, at 1:47:06, becomes a crop top when a monster somehow slices her back and makes her entire shirt cut in half). For the next 15 minutes we then see Natalie portman running around in a white crop top while fighting). We get such lines from Anakin as "I am in agony... if you are suffering as much as I am, please, tell me" and "we could keep it a secret" at 55:10 in a darkly lit room with Padme's weird black leather dress and gloves combo. (Yes, I know Padme tells Anakin she doesn't want a relationship with him in this scene, but the scene's whole function is to establish why society says they shouldn't be together, but why Anakin is attracted to her anyways, and for this Padme is presented to the viewer as an inherently sexual object which Anakin can't have which A) gross but B) fits into the whore achetype of characterization). In both physical presentation and characterization Padme flips to the other end of the dicotemy and Attack of the Clones now gives us Whore Padme. The other huge character change that happens at the same time for Padme is her ability to fight. In Phantom Menace she's primarily a diplomat; she has a few moments of sprinting around and brandishing a weapon, but she almost never uses it. In Attack of the Clones we get a direct quote from her at 1:36:00 that she's "not interested in getting into a war" and that she'll find a "diplomatic solution out of this mess". However she then proceeds to pick the lock to her shackles, pick up a gun she's never used before, and fight off not just monsters, but also hold her own with the literal jedi against the enroaching droids. The movie leads up to this scene in terms of their relationship, and when Padme admits to Anakin that she loves him too she is somehow also graced with the ability to fight. Again, I'm not really sure why; my best guess is that the other female love interests of the 90s were extremely capable women (ie. good at things like fighting and even fighting in crop tops), and that the capable women who was still romantically submissive was so dominant of an archtype it just bled into her charactization without any writer stopping to consider that she's never cannonically been trained to fight like the jedi characters and therefor should be way out of her depth in this battle. I'm all for female character who are physically strong and capable (obviously), but having her develop fighting skills as a side effect of wearing sexier outfits is very weird writing. Padme of course goes back to falling off things and needing saving during the climax of the film and indeed she'll do it again in film three, but for this moment of romantic tension finally resolved and Padme fulling moving from motherly figure to sexy love interest, she can suddenly fight. Food for thought and I'd love to hear any suggestions as to why you think it might be.

[iamtotallycool]

You make me feel like a Princess

I thought that I would only be doing my genderbend ship combo of Naomi/Estefania for Pride Month 2020. HOWEVER, it turns out I’m having a real love for this idea, especially of the LGBTQ variety.

So up next is the lovely Queen Elena Castillo-Flores and her cute Wizard Maitea De Alva!!

(Again, all inspired by the talented @missnobodynobodius and genderbend fanart that you can find here)

Enjoy!

Atl, named as the 25th Maruivan Royal Wizard by Chief Eztli the Wise, began his journey at the age of 10.

It is said however that he—

"Ouch!" Maitea exclaimed as she was pulled out of the book she was reading and her head was yanked back from one painful brush tug. "Elena! You said you would be gentle!"

"I was being gentle!" Elena replied defensively, putting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder as she sat on the bed behind her. "I told you need to take better care of your hair than just pull it back in a loose ponytail, or else you wouldn't get these knots."

"But it's so much work to take care of." Maitea picked up her book that she had dropped on her lap and flipped back to the page she had been reading. "It's why I've kept it short since I was 11." She rubbed at tender scalp. "Mami used to pull my long curly hair into such extremely painful knot buns and braids that I never wanted to relive that again."

"Well, believe me, I'll try and be gentle, I always do with you," Elena said as she pressed a kiss to Maitea's cheek and then immediately rubbed at it to get the lipstick mark she not doubt left behind. Maitea hoped that didn't ruin any of her makeup in return, and she would hate to have to sit still even longer and get it all redone again.

Elena had been insistent that Maitea attend this year's Feast of Friendship with her. Though Maitea had retorted with the fact that she didn't know the first thing about trade and barely a little more about diplomacy, Elena had assured her that she wanted her there as her date and future Princess Consort, considering this was the second time it would solely only be monarchs in attendance.

The young wizard had almost considered it a cheat for her Queenly girlfriend to say something so sweet and heartwarming that it made her insides feel all gooey and limp.

She was starting to regret it a little bit though as she quickly realized that going as a date and not as just the Royal Wizard, meant getting dolled up and wearing a fancy new dress that Elena would spoil her with. Those kinds of gifts was still something she could never get used to; not to mention, that Maitea could count the number of times on one hands that she had actually worn make up and most of those had been for Elena. And to top it all off, Elena refused to let her see her hair and makeup until after she was all done with it.

While she was a little apprehensive about this, she did trust Elena. They had been the best of friends since day 1, and had shared many things together, including secrets, especially during the times when they had shared a bed plenty of times when Maitea would spend the night from studying too late. That was until she woke up one morning and understood that is was more than just admiration the way she noticed the gold in Elena's hair from the sun, or how long her eyelashes that rested against her cheeks. Maitea De Alva had realized in an overwhelming sense of panic that she was crushing on her best friend. Hard.

Maitea had tried to play it off cool, not wanting to ruin a perfectly amazing friendship if Elena didn't feel that same way. And there were still unfortunately many in the EverRealm who didn't always support those kinds of relationships. This was mainly true when it came to Royals, who were all about bloodlines.

Thanks to all the luck of the Ancient Gods and Ancestors though, when she finally confessed the night of Elena's Coronation, the new Queen responded that she felt same way and had no hesitation when she grabbed Maitea's face and kissed her with an intensity that made her feel like she had been struck by a stunning spell that made her paralyzed and more alive than she had ever felt in her entire life. And it only had gotten better with each day since then.

"And done!" Elena proclaimed proudly as she scrambled to get off the bed and pull Maitea to her feet.

The other girl could only hold on tightly to Elena's hand as she was dragged across the room to the standing mirror. Before Maitea could look in it though, Elena clamped her hands over her hazel eyes.

"Are you ready, my cute Royal Wizard?" Elena said excitedly in her ear.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Yes, my crazy Queen, I'm ready!" Maitea said in an exasperated tone.

Elena let out one more squeal before she removed her hands and Maitea came face to face with her reflection. She was taken aback by what she saw, with the sparkling dark blue eyeshadow and ruby red lips, and watched her reflection reach up and touch it's face just to make sure it was her. Maitea was always stunned by this version of her that Elena saw. One that made her look like...well...a princess!

She had miraculously been able to tame Maitea's hair into an elegant updo bun with only one rogue curl hanging down, while she saw that Elena had styled her's into her classic low bun. However, she now noticed that both of them had matching red roses in their hair, no doubt a gift from Francisco and Luisa's gardens.

They looked like quite the pair standing next to one another.

"And wait till you see the dresses I ordered for us!" Elena said as she clapped her hands slightly together.

"Are they matching?" Maita asked as she turned to face her.

"Oh come on, I'm not that cheesy." 

Maitea cocked an eyebrow up at her. Not that she would mind wearing matching outfits, but she couldn't let her off that easy.

Elena did end up caving quickly as she threw up her hands in surrender. "Okay fine, today I won't be. And if I were to describe them, it would be...complementary." Elena grabbed Maitea's hands and laced their fingers together. "I want to show them all the team we are, the one we've always been."

Maitea felt a lump form in her throat and her heart hammer against her ribcage. "You're cheating again."

She ignored Elena's confused expression as she leaned forward and captured her lips in a daring, but still heartfelt kiss. Maitea squeezed their still tightly clasped hands as they both turned to their heads in sync to deepen the kiss in a way that would smug and smear and ruin their lipstick for sure.

Now though, Maitea wouldn't mind if she had to sit and get her makeup redone 100 times over. And only hoped their guests would be as forgiving if they were to show up a little bit late to the feast.

[casseythebee]

A Rainy Day

Bingo Spot: Outsider POV

Summary: Dean and Cas spend the day with their adopted daughter Mary and their dog Sir Fluffles 

Pairing: Dean x Castiel (Destiel) 

Words: 1280

Warning: none

“I think she’s calling you,” Castiel says not looking up from the skirt he is folding. “No, you’re Daddy. I’m Dada,” Dean counters. 

“Yes, my queen?” Cas asks taking a bow as he enters the room. Castiel and Dean’s daughter is going through a royalty phase and demands she be referred to only as a queen. 

“I demand we have a day outside!” Mary says flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. Castiel gives her a pointed look and she adds, “Please.” 

“Your wish is my command, Your Majesty.” He swoops her into his arms and she giggles. “But first we must get you dressed.” 

Cas takes Mary down to her room and plops her onto her bed. “Now, Your Majesty, what shall we wear? It was quite warm out yesterday so let’s go with your ladybug shirt and red and black polka dot leggings?” Castiel rummages through the draws a second before finding the outfit he envisioned. “How is this, my queen?” 

“I guess it will do. But what about my knight, Siw Fluffles?” She roped the family golden retriever into the queenly fun and nicknames him Sir Fluffles, but even though she is in speech therapy she still has trouble pronouncing her “r”s. “I think he is with dada.” Cas has his back to Mary to grab her socks and she runs from the room suppressing more giggles. 

She skids around the corner and flings herself into Dean’s arms. “Dada! Quick I think Daddy took Siw Fluffles!” she squeals. 

Dean chuckles and wraps an arm around her. He keeps her from falling off his lap as he grabs the book she knocked out of his hands. “Your Majesty, you made me drop my book. I demand an apology,” he teases pocking her tummy. 

“Lord Dada, I am very sowy.” She gives him her best puppy dog eyes. “But, what are we going to do about my knight in shining awmow?” 

“He is eating in the kitchen.” Dean takes her face in both hands and asks, “Have you and Mrs. Karen been working on you ‘r’s?” 

“Yeah! Watch me do one of the thingys she has me do. Rory’s lawn wake- no rake rarely rakes weal- no really right.” Every time she messes up she shakes her head and scrunches her face up even more. 

“That’s my girl!” Dean jumps up and starts walking them back to her room. “Now, Your Majesty, we must finish getting dressed before we can play outside.” They take the next ten minutes fighting her out of her pajamas and into her daytime clothes. They even have to bribe her with letting Sir Fluffles sleep in her bed tonight. 

He comes trotting into the room when she finally finishes getting ready. “Siw Fluffles! You’re okay!” She flings her arms around his neck. He nuzzles into her and licks her face. 

“Alright, you two let’s go for a walk.” Dean grabs the leash from the bedside table and hocks it onto Sir Fluffles’ collar. 

Together as a family the three of them start walking down the street. Here and there people will stop to pet the dog or he will stop to sniff something out. After walking for about te minutes Cas glances up at the sky to see cloudy gray skies approaching. “Your Majesty, it looks like we might not get to spend the day outside.” Cas notice Mary’s face turn to a pout and she opens her mouth to talk. “And before you start whining it is because it looks like it is going to rain.” 

“Fine,” she says with a stomp of her foot. “But let’s make a chalk house!” 

After they get back to the house and grab the chalk out of the garage they get to work building their house. First, they start with the initial outline, which Mary demands be as big as possible. Next, they start to draw in the walls and doors, for the doors they leave a hole in the line of the wall with two lines on the inside. In each bedroom, they draw in their own decorations. Mary gives herself a big bed with a small one next to it for Sir Fluffles. Dean and Cas give themselves a large desk with a bookshelf full of what Cas calls “classics”. Then, they move on to common areas. Dean gives himself a shelf full of records and a vintage turntable. Cas insists that they have a long fancy dining room table. 

“What about Sir Fluffles?” This entire time Dean has been throwing him a ball and he’s been gathering sticks in the yard. “Where is Siw Fluffles supposed to sleep?” 

“We can either make him his own house or add on to this one? What would you like?” Cas asks picking up another piece of chalk. “Let’s give him his own house, what do you say?” Dean asks Mary in a soft voice. She jumps up and down shaking her head excitedly. They are halfway through decorating Sir Fluffles’ house when the first few drops of rain start falling. The wind starts picking up fast and the pile of sticks goes flying. “I’ll clean up you two get inside!” Dean shouts over the wind. Cas gathers a crying Mary in his arms and runs inside with Sir Fluffles close on his heels. 

“What about Dada?” Mary cries. 

Cas places her on the couch and bends down to her level. “He’s okay, he is just cleaning up the chalk.” 

Mary does not stop crying until Dean comes in sopping wet. She runs over and wraps her arms around his legs. “I’m fine, My Queen.” Dean stoops down and gives her a bear hug. “Dada is going to go get changed and then we will find something else to do, okay?” 

Mary sniffles and shakes her head. “Now turn the frown upside down,” Cas jokes. 

When Dean finishes getting dressed he comes back into the living room holding a bag of dog treats, Sir Fluffles is jumping all over the places trying to get some. “Down boy. Sit!” Dean commands bending over to give him a little pet when he obeys. “I got an idea of what we can do to fill the rest of the day. We can his these around the house and time how long it takes Sir Fluffles to find them.” 

“I love it! I love it!” 

They spend the next two hours hiding different treats around the house only taking a break when it is time for dinner. They hide them in every room except Dean and Cas’ bedroom where Sir Fluffles was ordered to stay until they were done hiding treats. For the rest of the night, Mary is running around following Sir Fluffles around seeing if he will find all of the treats. 

“That’s the last one! Dads, he found all of them!” Mary calls running into their bedroom with a pleasantly full Sir Fluffles. “It only took him fifteen minutes!” 

“Alright now it is time for bed. What story would you like to read tonight?” Cas asks walking Mary back to her bedroom. 

Dean stays in his room finishing folding the towels. Every few minutes he can hear a line of “The B Book” drifting into the room and Mary’s twinkling little laugh following every line. Dean meets an adorable sight when he finally goes to the room. Mary has fallen asleep with her arm around a sleeping Sir Fluffles. Cas gets up to give Dean room to place a kiss on her forehead. 

“It’s your turn to pick the movie, Mr. Cutiepie” Cas whispers as he leaves the room. 

“That’s Lord Cutiepie to you, Angel Love.”

[kumeko]

A/N: Chapter 2! Irish peeps, forgive me for butchering your accent in an attempt to write accent.

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Soft. Ingrid’s bed was a hard thing and she didn’t know what to make of the soft mattress beneath her. Her body practically sank into it and she felt a small crick in her back. The ceiling above her was utterly unfamiliar as well and Ingrid stared at it.

 She must have passed out after they’d gotten to Annette’s place yesterday, the jet lag stronger than she’d realized. Turning her head, she looked out the window to her right to find a long, green farmland. To her left, her suitcase stood, still closed and unpacked.

 “Ingrid?” Mercedes knocked on the door, peeking in. “Have a good sleep?”

 “Yeah.” Ingrid ran a hand through her hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

 “It’s alright.” Smiling, Mercedes shook her head. “We have all of today to catch up! The bathroom’s on the right. I’ll just go finish making breakfast.”

There was something utterly lazy about having someone else make breakfast for her. Ingrid wasn’t sure she liked it. Sure, she was the guest, but getting waited on—it didn’t sit right to her. Forcing herself up, she stumbled across the room in a rush to get ready. Unpacking could wait till later, she just had to grab the bare essentials for now.

 The house was narrower than she’d expected. The halls, the rooms, everything felt crammed, as though to take up the least amount of room possible. Ingrid had never felt vertigo in her life, but she considered it as she stared at the staircase. Even those looked too small to be usable.

 She’d studied what to expect before travelling, but it still didn’t prepare her for this. The others were already in the kitchen when she’d finally made it. On a small table barely big enough to fit all of them, Annette took up half of it with a pile of papers. Mercedes stood by the stove, flipping an egg.

 “Yer up!” Annette grinned as she looked up from her papers, almost bouncing in her seat. “Good, because today’s busy and we’ll need all the time we got.”

 “Busy?” Ingrid perked up, curious. Annette had said to leave the planning to her so while Ingrid had given a precursory glance on what to do in Ballyvaughan, she hadn’t really thought too deeply about it.

 “I’ve organized our tour, sure.” Annette picked up a piece of paper, puffing out her chest with pride. “Where we’re going an’ when, it’s all finally together.”

 “That’s…good…” Ingrid trailed off as she squinted at the long list. Every line was filled with something, and with Annette’s ridiculously neat writing, it somehow looked even more crowded. Every hour of the day was scheduled with some place or the other.

 “I sorted by place, then importance.” Annette looked at her expectantly.

 “That’s…” Ingrid liked doing things on her vacation. She couldn’t handle lazing about on a beach or staying at home. It was too boring staying still. Yet, even she balked at the fact that the plan was to see some caves, walk along the shoreline, visit two castles, climb to a fairy fort, and then maybe, maybe, see some ruins.

 In one day.

 Ingrid considered pinching herself. She couldn’t be reading it right.

 “Love…” Mercedes, as usual, knew how to handle it. She reached over, squeezing Annette’s shoulders. “We can’t do all of those.”

 Perplexed, Annette stared at the schedule, then at them. “Why not?”

 “It’s just…” Ingrid grasped for straws. “Aren’t you bad with sports?”

 “It’s just walkin’.” Annette rolled her eyes and huffed. Crossing her arms, she muttered, “Anyone can do that.”

 “Are we only spending an hour at each place?” Mercedes asked, tracing the schedule with a finger.

 “Trust me, t’at’s more than enough time.” Puffing her chest with pride, Annette gestured pointed at the fairy fort on the list. “It’s really just a bunch o’ rocks, you won’t really want t’ do more than a photo.”

 “Oh, Annette, you think that just because you live here.” Mercedes sighed, shaking her head. Her hair remained coiled over shoulder, as though permanently fixed there. “This is all new to Ingrid.”

 “That’s…” Annette flinched. She tugged on a lock of her hair, twirling it around her finger. “I…it’s not that…bad…”

 Ingrid stared at the schedule one last time before reluctantly adding, “And, uh…you didn’t account for travel time.”

 “What?” Annette plucked her schedule. She paled as she stared. “Just…uh…give me a minute.”

 “Take as many as you need.” Mercedes leaned forward, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “In the meantime, let’s get you some breakfast, Ingrid.”

 Ingrid eagerly picked up a plate. Even if they halved Annette’s plans, she’d need all the energy she could get.

 -x-

 Fortunately, common sense won and the schedule spread out over the course of her three week stay instead of everything squished into a single week. As Mercedes had pointed out, Ingrid could always come again next summer.

 And she definitely wanted to—especially to explore the rest of Europe. It bowled her over how old Ireland felt, how there was a sense of history and the past around every corner. She couldn’t say the same for home; there wasn’t much of a past in Toronto. Things built on each other in a dizzying array of combinations, the past integrating with the present until it created something new. Unless it was something from more than a hundred years ago, in which case it was promptly bulldozed and trampled over.

 Here? She felt the past distinctly. The town square with its historical buildings. The Aillwee caves felt like a journey through the earth. The bridges felt like something out of a movie she’d seen once. And the forts, the piles of rocks and rubble left as markers to people long gone by, overgrown by bushes and grass.

 Ingrid leaned forward as she studied the fairy fort. There were three layers of stone wall encircling it, each ring on a different layer till it reminded her of those theatre stages in the park.

 “What do ya think?” Annette asked, eyes bright as she gestured proudly at the ruin. Despite her words earlier about how boring and quickly they could get through the sight-seeing portion of her tour, she’d spent the past few days pointing out every small fact and tidbit.

 “Impressive.” Ingrid smiled, walking closer now. “It’s not like the other one.”

 “Yeah, that’s one more of a…” Annette scratched her cheek thinking of the fairy ring they’d visited yesterday. While there had obviously been a ring of some sort, it looked like a dirt mound that someone had forgotten about. “Well, not all o’ ‘em can be winners.”

 “I can’t believe you have so many of them.” Ingrid looked over her shoulder. They’d climbed a gently sloping hill to get here, and she made out the town in a distance. If this had been a defensive position, it was a good one. “They’re everywhere.”

 “It’s like people forgot to clean up after themselves,” Mercedes added, chuckling. Her hair braided hair coiled on top of her head, giving her a more dignified look than usual. “Like little kids.”

 Ingrid unconsciously touched her own short hair; Mercedes had somehow managed to braid some of it, a princess’s circlet to Mercedes’s queenly crown. It wasn’t all that bad; somehow oddly practical despite the ribbons tying it together. Maybe she’d try that next time she had to go anywhere formal and fancy. “Only you’d call a ruin a kid’s mess.”

 Annette giggled. “Well, she’s not wrong. We made ‘em and then just left ‘em there. I’m sure the fairies like ‘em, though. Free houses.”

 “Messy, free houses.” Mercedes cradled her cheek, sighing. “You didn’t leave them anything nice.”

 Ingrid pulled out her phone, taking a few quick photos as they talked. “So, where next?”

 “We’re…” Annette sighed, her brow furrowing with annoyance. “We’re gonna drink.”

 “Drinking?” Ingrid raised a brow. Considering how poorly Annette handled her alcohol, she’d sworn off it back during their university days. Especially after she’d made a fool of herself in front of her old flame.

 “I know, I know.” Annette’s shoulders slumped, and she leaned against Mercedes. “But everyone wants t’ meet you.”

 “My coworkers, her family…” Mercedes smiled, rubbing Annette’s back. “It’ll be fun! You can meet everyone.”

 “Just not my grandparents,” Annette closed her eyes, looking pale. “I don’t want t’ know if they find yer accent sexy.”