#so like. trying to improve my practices a little but‚ like‚ without quite looking what i'm doing in the eye

[aeide-thea]

extremely not a fan of online shopping for a few reasons, not least that dealing with returns in a timely fashion is stupidly hard when you have adhd, but unfortunately if you're specifically interested in merino it turns out a bunch of merino-focused brands are online-only... which is really pretty ironic considering that a significant part of what's driving my interest in merino is wanting an eco-friendlier alternative to plastics, and trucking packages back and forth really cuts into that eco-friendliness!

[drama-glob]

SPOILERS FOR HELLUVA BOSS SEASON 2 EPISODE 7!!!!

Let me start off by saying F*CK YOU MAMMON!!!! >:( >:( >:(

Okay now, I LOVED THIS EPISODE because as much at it broke my heart with how much of a gut punch it was that Fizz has been putting up with Mammon for years, the fact that he got his freedom at the end with the constant support of Blitz and Ozzie, who genuinely care about him melted my heart as well. ^_^

I knew going in I was going to hate Mammon (because with how he runs his ring, I couldn't see how he could have any redeeming qualities), but he seriously was a bigger abusive d*ck and was way more blatant about than I expected. >:( Poor Fizz right off the bat with his unhealthy work ethic that he's not good enough and that his value is tied into his work, something that many of us (me included) have been guilty of. I blame Cash for being the most likely factor in why Fizz thinks that way, along with his idol worship of Mammon playing into it. >:( Also, that creep getting in Fizz's head was so messed up because we come to see how genuinely nice Fizz is and he sadly let what that guy said get into his head. ;_;

I'm so glad that Ozzie from the start is looking out for Fizz's well being and mental health, which is also really sad because he has no doubt had this conversation many times with Fizz about not needing to please Mammon and that he is good enough, only for Fizz to insist everything's fine when it's not. ;_; I also had a feeling Ozzie wouldn't be a fan of the Robo Fizzes given that he loves Fizz so much and knows what people use them for, so most likely it's part of the whole blackmail deal/Ozzie can't break out of making them so long as Fizz doesn't call it quits. ;_; I'm also happy that Ozzie clearly harbors no ill-will towards Blitz (which we already saw in "Oops," but it's nice that he knows Blitz wouldn't like the state Fizz is in and needs to cut ties with Mammon). :)

Fizz is just so talented with his craft, but the further pressure that he had actual competition from Glitz and Glam just made things so much worse, but of course Mammon don't care. >:( One of the absolute best moments though had to be the sweet little deaf kid signing to Fizz and Fizz signing back as well as sign his picture, so it was sweet and it helped Fizz's mental state temporarily. It was unfortunate that flipping creep came back and messed with Fizz once again, only adding to Fizz's panic attack that goes into overdrive once he sees Glitz and Glam perform. ;_;

My sadness only built as Fizz spiraled and tried to make himself "fine," but my man Ozzie being there as soon as he hears (from Blitz no doubt) that Fizz is not okay and him not leaving until he can get to the bottom of way Fizz is so adamant about doing this while trying to comfort him was wonderful. I legit cried, as I'm sure many of you did, when poor Fizz admits that he feels like practically nothing next to Ozzie and that without his job and the fame, he'd eventually leave Fizz despite how many years they've known each other and how much Ozzie does to remind Fizz that he loves him for who he is. ;_; ;_; ;_; It's sad too that Fizz has put up with the year of abuse because he felt he owed Mammon for leading him Ozzie, even though that's certainly not true. It really brought it in home just how much trauma Fizz has suffered and affected his mental state. I can only imagine how bad it'd be if he really didn't have Ozzie in his life. O_O The sweet, honest words from Ozzie afterward just reinforced my belief that Ozzie is the best boyfriend and their song "Crooked" was so saturated with lovey-dovey sentiment, I went awwww so many times and shows how lucky they are to have each other. ^_^<3<3<3

Fizz's "2-Minutes Notice" was absolutely incredible, (especially considering this was improv ;) ) and the fact Mammon didn't realize it was about him until the end was hilarious! XD But Fizz certainly proved how amazing he is and I'm sure Ozzie was more than happy to provide the magical backup to really stick it to Mammon. ;) ^_^ <3 It was really cool getting to see full demon Mammon and Ozzie, but it was especially amazing that Ozzie announced he loved Fizz to everyone so that he could no longer be blackmailed by Mammon and so Fizz could be free of that asshole; plus, he already seemed tired of hiding it. ^_^<3<3<3 Although Mammon will definitely come back for revenge on this sweet couple, Fizz and Ozzie get to at least have their peace for now and will face the future of their relationship being outed to all of Hell together. Also, those giant nuzzles from Ozzie are everything to me! ^_^<3<3<3<3<3

[gilverrwrites]

Quick and Dirty

Pairing: Captain Boomerang/Reader

Digger has an idea, it involves highly inappropriate usage of the Speed Force Gauntlet. (Please ignore the fact that the gauntlet doesn't actually extend to the fingers - at least i'm pretty sure it doesn't)

You're currently reading the AFAB version

>[Please click here for the AMAB version]<

Rating: 18+

Words: >800

Content: Established relationship, coercion (kinda), clitoral stimulation, vibrations, dirty talk, spit, swearing.

Please remember: to do the things that make you happy.

“No. Fucking. Way.” You warn, leaning back against the wall and crossing your arms defensively. “You keep that thing away from me.”

“Oh, come on, Darlin’.” Digger is still smiling, crooked, confident, casual. He gestures to the speed gauntlet strapped to his other arm. “It’s perfectly safe. You’ve seen me usin’ it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You examine the glove in question. It would be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued. You didn’t know much about the speed force beyond whatever half-truths Digger rambled on about, it seemed intricate, and unsafe. But Boomerang was a good lay, and he’d used that thing to save your skin in the field more than once, so you were willing to tentatively hear him out. “If that thing goes off midway, I don’t want my bits going with it.”

“That won’t happen… Probably.” Concern did flash across his face briefly, but it was quickly hidden by his usual bravado. He stepped closer to you, not quite close enough to touch, but enough that you could smell him, that you could feel the high energy radiating from him. Or maybe that was the gauntlet. “Have a little faith in ol’ Boomer, aye. I’ll treat you right, make you feel real good.”

“Okay… but if anything happens to mine.” You point to your crotch before gesturing to the growing erection in Digger's trousers. “I’m using yours as target practice.”

That might have been a boner killer for other men, but Digger's enthusiasm when it comes to sex or showing off knows no bounds, and this is a perfect opportunity for both. His eyes glint with mischief, with victory. He licks his lips, and you know there’s no backing out now, you’re fucked.

Digger maintains eye contact as he reaches out, there’s no pleasantries. He makes quick work undoing your trousers, hooking his gloved fingers in your panties, and pulling them both down until they’re positioned halfway down your thighs.

“What, no foreplay?” You challenge, raising your brows at him.

“You’re not gonna need it.” The look he gives you is so coy, so amused. It should fuel your cynicism, but it looks hot on him. “But, since ya asked so nicely, I guess I can spare a lil somethin’.”

He rests his unarmed hand on the wall beside you and leans in, occupying your lips with his. You’re only allowed a moment to enjoy it before you feel the brisk metal finger plates of the gauntlet slide between your slit. You hiss at the contact, and Digger pulls his hand back immediately.

“Sorry bout that. Shoulda warmed it up first.” His expression flips to sheepish as he brushes his fingers against his scarf. He blows on it a few times before spitting on his index finger and continuing. “Right, let’s try that again.”

He resumes the position, one hand on the wall, one hand slinking back between your legs, and his face just inches from yours. The temperature has barely improved, but he’s able to sink his fingers back in without causing you to flinch this time.

You’re still unprepared and admittedly unimpressed thus far as he starts circling your clit. To give him a fighting chance, you close your eyes, hoping it will help you focus on the feeling.

“Aye, no no no. Keep your eyes open.” As you follow his instruction, you hear a quiet whizzing from below, a lesser sound than the gauntlet's normal powering up. “I wanna watch your reaction.”

Then it hits you, an intense pulsing pressed against your most sensitive area, like every vibrator ever invented is being utilised on you in that single moment. The wall prevents you from being able to roll your head back, so you stare at Digger, wide-eyed as your body tingles and burns.

“Shhhhiiiiit, you like that.” His voice is dripping with fervour, and it only serves to add an extra level of throbbing to your cunt. Already approaching your climax, you’re unable to find the words to respond, instead fisting your hands around Digger's leather lapels in anticipation. “You reallllly like that, don’t ya?”

A nod is all you can manage as you begin to jerk and quiver, hitting your climax in record time. It’s hot and searing, like lightning is running through your whole body.

The tips of your fingers and toes, among other things, are still twitching as you start to catch your breath moments later. You can barely comprehend whatever Digger is prattling on about. He’s waving the gauntlet around, his arm moving so fast you can’t make it out. There’s lots of brash laughter and ‘I told ya so’s. You’re finally able to fully tune in as he muses, “How many rounds of that can handle, I wonder?”

[slaymitchabernathy]

champagne problems

“Who is Lucy Gray?”

Soarynn’s question pulls Coriolanus from the newspaper he’s currently reading at the dining room table and he fails to hide the look of surprise from washing over his face.

Soarynn stands across from him on the other side of the mahogany furniture, hands on her hips as she expectantly looks at him. Coriolanus swallows, there’s no way she knows about Lucy Gray, not after that demented District girl was practically erased from Capitol history. Unless Soarynn somehow found the one tape Dr. Gaul kept for her own sick and twisted pleasure…no, she couldn’t have.

Coriolanus offers her a small smile, to calm her, to calm him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about darling,” he says, reaching for his cup of coffee.

His normally polite and doting girlfriend scoffs and roll her eyes, not buying into his lie for a second, “Do you think I’m an idiot Coriolanus? Did you think you could keep something like this from me?”

If Soarynn knows about Lucy Gray then that means she could know about Sejanus too. Coriolanus can see his perfect world crumbling around him. All his hard work gone, down the drain.

He’d come back to the Capitol after his little Peacekeeper stint a new man with a new persona. He was no longer some wide-eyed school boy who hoped to find some goodness in his heart. No, he was past that. He threw himself into his studies and it paid off well. He was offered an internship as a Game Maker and made quite the name for himself despite his young age.

During his second year at the University was when he met Soarynn. She was everything he was looking for. Kind, smart, polite, stunning and above all, born and raised in the Capitol. They made quite the attractive couple and with her by his side, everything was lining up for him.

Until now.

Coriolanus calms himself, he needs to find out what she knows without telling her what he knows. “Soarynn, I don’t know who told you about this…Lucy Gray girl but I can assure you that sh—“

“Oh don’t try to play it off,” Soarynn snaps, not allowing him to finish his sentence, “Festus mentioned your time as a Peacekeeper and when I said how unfair it was that out of all the Districts to be sent to, you got sent to Twelve, he started going on and on about how you were some…some mentor to some girl from Twelve.”

Festus Creed was about to be the fourth body Coriolanus buried once he was done dealing with Soarynn and her little temper tantrum. Leave it to him to be loose lipped at the worst time.

Coriolanus rubbed his temples, she didn’t know everything, which was good. She only knew as much as Festus knew and that wasn’t a lot. Only what he saw in person, on television, at the zoo and in the arena.

No big deal.

“My mentorship is something that I don’t wish to talk about Soarynn. There’s a reason no one talks about it so why don’t you drop it before you say something you’ll regret,” he suggests, giving her a stern look. Normally, she’d back down but this is a fight that’s got her fired up from the looks of it.

“So she was your Tribute?”

He nods, “She was my Tribute.”

“And she won? She won the Games?”

“She did. And I won the Plinth Prize.”

Soarynn shakes her head, “But then you got sent to Twelve.” She says this as if he’s been caught red handed. He feigns a look of innocence, “There is no such crime for being sent to serve the great country of Panem darling. I simply went where I was assigned before I was called back home.”

Soarynn tilts her head and for a moment, he knows he’s won. “So you didn’t go look for Lucy Gray once you got there?” Well, he didn’t have much else to do once he got there but he nods his head, “She disappeared soon after I arrived, some say the Mayor and his daughter had something to do with it. Others say she ran away up North.”

There, he didn’t even fully lie. Maybe he is newly improved.

Soarynn strides over to where he’s sitting and he prepares himself for the apology, the begging, the tears. Soarynn’s always been rather submissive and she’s always the first to apologize.

She’s got something clutched in her small fist and she slams it on the table, keeping her hand over it and keeping it from his view.

“I don’t believe you,” she whispers, pulling her hand away and revealing what she’s left on the table.

Her earring.

Lucy Gray’s earring.

He’s fucked. He knows that much. Damn him for being so sentimental. If he knew where this earring would land him then he would’ve left it in those godforsaken woods.

Coriolanus swallows and stares at the piece of jewelry before him. It looks so cheap compared to the jewelry he’s bought Soarynn. All her jewelry is made of gold and precious jewels. This earring looks like a child made it. But he kept it. And that must mean something. It clearly means something to Soarynn who’s fuming at the moment.

“This was before I met you.”

He can’t even stop those words from leaving his mouth but he wishes they never did when he sees how much they’ve hurt Soarynn. She gives him a glare, “That doesn’t matter and you know it. We both agreed to be honest with each other. You knew about my past relationships but when I asked about yours I was shut down. I should’ve known it from the start, should’ve…should’ve known that you’d be hung up on some District whore.”

Coriolanus is on his feet in seconds, his chair scraping across the hard wood floor and his large hand wrapping around Soarynn’s neck. He stares down at her, his breathing heavy and fueled with a sudden anger.

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you about anything because I just knew you’d react like some spoiled child. Yes, I was Lucy Gray’s mentor. Yes, I fell for her smiles and her silly little songs. And yes, she probably was some whore who lived by her charms but it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day now does it?”

His face is inches away from Soarynn’s and they’re both mad, both hurting for different reasons.

Soarynn has tears in her eyes and he doesn’t know if it’s from how he’s treating her or how long he’s kept this all a secret from her.

“You’re not the man I fell in love with Coriolanus.”

Those words break him in more way than one.

His grip on her neck disappears and he takes a step back, letting out a cold, bitter laugh, “I think Lucy Gray probably thought the same thing before she left.”

He’s done it now. A single tear falls down her face before she turns on her heel and storms out of the room. Coriolanus is quick to follow her, call after her. Her heels click against the hardwood floor and her light colored dress flows behind her as she makes her way to the front doors.

“Soarynn.”

“Don’t. I know what I needed to know now.”

Coriolanus scoffs, “And what is that pray tell?”

Soarynn turns around and there’s nothing but anger in her eyes as she looks up at him, “That you, Coriolanus Snow are an arrogant man who thinks himself to be above others. Who is desperate for love in any shape or form but in the end never gets it. And one day, you’re going to let your obsession for power get the best of you and today might be a small taste of that. How your obsession with some girl from District Twelve will cost you everything you’ve ever worked for.”

Soarynn slaps him across the face and he lets her. Frozen by her words. He watches her leave, listens to the doors slam behind her. Two girls gone.

One for the money. Two for the show.

He never was ready so he watched them go.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Premier Amour

Terzo x Fem!Reader

TW: smut, running away, murder, blood, pregnancy

Word Count: 18.4k

Medieval Terzo is finally here!!!! I've been working on this for.... A month now? I've lost track, but I'm stoked to share it with you.

I'm not a historian and also it's just like a fantasy AU so I'm sorry if there's historical inaccuracies, especially around religion, marriage, ceremonies, language, geography, the feudal system, whatevs. I'm no William Shakespeare 😂 just let me have my cliche romance in peace. But if there's anything I can improve, please let me know, I love to learn things ❤️

This is the Terzo I picture for most of the story. And this is one of my Cavaliere Terzo inspo arts!

"What a beautiful pendant," you admire the metal work that the local silver smith has on display in the little bazaar in the middle of town.

"Ah, yes, that's one of my favorites. Beautiful emerald, innit?" the merchant engages with you.

"Sì, it would look bellissima on la signora," a stranger interrupts. You turn to see him, just taller than you, dressed in a black linen cloak, removing the hood from his ear length raven black hair. He looks quite pale to be from Italy, but his accent is too accurate for him not to be. His bare face, clean of facial hair indicates that he might only be a little older than you; his dimples on his cheeks and chin are strong, and he look quite handsome. And his heavy black brows give him a natural scowl over his… mismatched eyes?

Your eyes lock with his, "Yes," you practically whisper, "thank you, sir."

He closes the space between you, his rugged riding boots scraping across the gravel beneath his feet. The mysterious man holds out his hand, and you offer him yours without a second thought. Something about him is so alluring. His eyes flutter closed as he presses his lips to your knuckles, and when they open again, there's something fiery in his gaze. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, bella mia."

And just like that, he's gone, off into the crowd like nothing happened. You exchange a look with the shop owner, both equally shocked by the encounter. After that, you decide maybe it's time to head back home for the day.

You quickly stop by the local baker's tent to grab a few pastries and fruits for the journey back, but as you walk on the outskirts of the bazaar towards the trail you always take, an arm slips itself under yours, hand gripping tightly against your sensitive skin. Whimpering, you try to pull away from whoever is, when you hear that Italian accent ringing in your ear again, "Don't scream. Act normally if you want to live." His other hand slides around your waist and leads you off the trail and into the trees, deep into the thick of the woods.

"What do you want from me?" You finally question him once out of earshot of the marketplace, fire and frustration building in your belly. Jerking your arm away from him only for his grip to return a second later, he turns you, pinning your back against a tree, making you drop your fabric wrapped goods. "Hey!" you yell at him.

"𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘩!" he commands of you.

"Why should I?!" You attempt to garner anyone's attention.

You hear the unmistakable sound of metal being unsheathed before feeling the cold blade against your throat. It got you to shut up, eyes wide with horror. "You're not who you pretend to be, dolce mia."

"W-what do you mean?" you mutter, his face only inches from yours.

"You traipse around like some common little girl from town, but I see the way you hold yourself: proud, but taught to be like a delicate flower. Exactly the way they want you to be to find a suitor."

"On what grounds do you make these assumptions?" His remark had hit you right where it hurt, as if he could read you like a book, and you were angry again.

"The silk petticoat peaking from under your skirt… Commoners can't afford silk."

You couldn't believe he would talk about your undergarments with such a smug look on his face. "It was a gift! My family saved up for quite some time for it!"

He lowers his eyes to your chest, lewdly raising his eyebrows as his finger traces down the center of your cleavage, hooking on the outer layer of your dress and pulling outward just an inch or two. "Did they save up for the matching corset, too, bella mia?"

You stare at him in shock, wanting to strike him down, but also feeling an unfamiliar kind of heat coiling up inside you. Attempting to push him away with your free hand, he snatches your wrist, hiking it above your head and pinning it to the tree, the knife still pressed against your neck.

"If you're going to try to dress like a commoner, I would suggest making certain your disguise is more… thorough," he says pointedly. "So, who are you then? The daughter of… Hmm, a lord? High up land owner?" He inquisitively watches your body language, knowing you won't admit to anything. "Is daddy a lawyer? No? An ambassador? Politician?"

Nothing from you, only persed lips and furrowed brows.

"Ahhh, dare I say it? I must have some lady of the high court under my steel blade." His joke isn't funny to you, so you just keep staring him down, "Perhaps a handmaiden? No… She wouldn't want to escape. But who would? Someone who's never known anything different than the silver spoon…" It's like he's playing with his dinner before devouring it. "You must be la principessa."

You cut your eyes away from him, and he knows he's got you.

"There she is, la principessa, just wanting a taste of the world around her," he teases you.

"What do you want from me?" You cut your eyes back at him.

"Just one thing," he moves impossibly closer to you. "A kiss… da quella tua dolce bocca." (A kiss… From that sweet mouth of yours.)

His eyes glance down at his prize, and you know there's no stopping him. At first contact, his plump lips are surprisingly soft against yours. He moves slowly, giving you several pecks, not unlike the ones you'd experienced while being chaperoned around with your suitors.

That's when he presses his chin to yours, and your mouths drop open together. You feel his hot breath on your face before his mouth closes around yours possessively, tongue demanding entrance. You let out a soft whimper and your tongue dances with his much more skilled one. The knife drops to the ground and is quickly replaced by his fingers massaging over the skin roughly. His other hand leaves yours to scandalously claw at your waist, urging your body closer to his, and your hand falls from the tree to tangle in the base of his hair. Your other hand explores his firm chest, desperately pushing past his cloak to feel him through less layers.

In a matter of seconds, he's turned you into some sort of harlot, abandoning all of your knowledge from finishing school, making your legs weak as he sucks on your bottom lip. Suddenly, his fingers squeeze around your windpipe, but not in a way that would hurt you, rather it draws a lengthy moan from you.

Feeling intoxicated by his presence and the lack of air, you pull away from him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and leaning against his chest, trying to catch your breath. Both of your hands relax on his warm torso, his arms now wrapped around you protectively. You dare to glance up at him, and you're met with his soft gaze staring down at you, still getting used to that strange white eye.

"Who are you?" you whisper to him.

He chuckles deeply, "Your salvation… But for now, you can call me Terzo."

You aren't sure what that answer meant, but you decide to try out his name on your tongue.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a silver chain dangling on one of his fingers: the emerald pendant from earlier. You stand up straight, putting a bit of space between your bodies.

"Think of me when you wear it, sì?" He commands more than asks, as he latches the clasp around your neck. Your fingers feel the precious stone on your chest, while Terzo bends down to gather your pastries and his knife.

He hands the tied up package to you and makes a move to walk away.

"Wait-" you stop him. You lean up on your toes and give one one last sweet and lingering kiss. "Will I see you again?"

"Sì, do not worry, tesoro," he places his lips to your forehead then disappears into the woods.

• •

You wake that night after seeing flashes of him in your dreams, and you're warmer than normal. The heat between your legs pools stronger than you've ever felt before. The pulsing of your blood so strong, it almost feels like someone is touching you there.

Squeezing your thighs together, you try to sit up and ignore it, opening your window to let in the cool night air.

"…touch…" It's like a whisper in the wind. Your hand rests at your pelvis, balling your night gown up, fighting the sensation between your legs, like a slow, languid stroke back and forth, just enough to make you want more. But you shouldn't. It's debaucherous to even speak of these things in the little bubble that is the castle you live in, let alone to partake.

Another whisper, "please yourself for me, bella mia…" You must be losing your mind. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸?

You look around, seeing everything in your room is as usual, but the aching in your core grows stronger. You feel your blood rapidly filling the area. Ever-so-gently, you grind against the sheet beneath you, and feel immediate relief at the sensation. "Ah…"

You crave more, need it even. Grabbing a pillow and shoving it under your weight; you rock your hips back and forth, toes curling as your fingers come to rest on the emerald pendant once again. You notice it glowing and nearly vibrating with energy.

"Yesss, cara, just like that," you hear him again, intoxicating you.

You rip off your night gown, leaving you bare under the moonlight as you soak the plush fabric that scrapes against your folds.

From his campsite deep in the woods, Terzo sits on his knees in a position similar to yours as his hand works over his hardened member, teasing at his own tip to drag him closer to that precipice he enjoys so much. "Touch yourself, dolce mia, please," he begs into the open air.

Back in your room, you follow his command, fingers diving between folds you'd never explored before. Upon finding a little bundle of nerves that's quite pleasing, you cry out in pleasure. Flicking over the spot again and again has the most euphoric feeling building in your pelvis.

Terzo holds both hands out in front of him, balled up onto fist for his cock to push in and out of, wishing it were you. His jaw hangs slack at the thought. "Will you come for me, tesoro?"

For the first time you address him, unsure if he's able to hear you, unsure if this is even real, "I- I think I am…" Your fingers work faster chasing that feeling higher and higher when crash! You feel the shockwave over take you, your fingers flying from beneath you to brace yourself on the windowsill. "Terzo!!!!" you scream his name out the window as your climax rips through your body for the first time.

Hands pumping fast, Terzo spills his seed all over the ground before him, cock twitching and sending long white streams through the air. He chuckles to himself, as he's pretty sure he heard your scream echo through the woods.

• •

Days passed and he was the only thought on your mind. You were careful to only wear his pendant in the night so no one would question where it came from, but also so whatever 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 was wouldn't happen again in the broad daylight. You weren't completely sure the pendant had anything to do with it, but best to be safe.

Your father, the king, had you meeting with more suitors. You were past the age that you should be married; you should probably even have a couple babes by now, but perhaps you were progressive minded in thinking that you weren't just some livestock to be sold off for breeding.

The more time passed, and the more kisses that you had to share with these boys--Terzo kissed you like a man should, like a lover would--well, they all paled in comparison to it, and frankly you were starting to miss him. Although, no doubt, you feel insane for missing a man that held you at knife point just to give you a kiss… The best kiss of your life.

As you wait in the garden for the next suitor to come along, you figured you'd spend an hour with him, then onto the next--𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

You stare at the man before you like you'd just seen a ghost.

"Ma'am, this is Marquis Lucien Sauveterre," the chaperone announces.

Terzo takes your hand and kisses your knuckles just as he had in the bazaar that day. "C'est un plaisir de faire votre connaissance, ma belle." (Pleasure to make your acquaintance, beautiful.)

Your head is spinning.

"Merci," he hands the chaperone some gold coins, and waves them off.

"What are doing here!!?" you whisper shout at Terzo once the chaperone returns back inside. "𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘢𝘶𝘷𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘦…" you mock the fake name you'd been given, rolling your eyes.

That devious smirk pulls at his lips. He was dressed much nicer today, as were you; clearly he was hiding some sort of noble background as well.

"How have you been, mia principessa? Did you enjoy yourself a few nights ago?"

Your eyes dart up to his, and he looks you over as if he knows what you look like naked. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴… 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵.

"Anyway, I won't be bothering you long. I came to deliver a message: there's a big tree with a nice canopy in the middle of a wheat farmer's field not far from here, do you know the one?"

You nod your head; you go there to read sometimes.

"Meet me there tomorrow, sì? I'll be waiting for you." His hand cups your cheek and he kisses you quickly, a tease compared to what you know those lips can do. "I think about you every day, too, cara mia. I can't get you off my mind, but you knew that would happen when you kissed me the way you did," he guilts you with a grin.

"I believe you were the one who kissed me, sir. Held me up with a knife for it," you sass him.

You hear a low groan near your ear followed by, "Let me taste you once more, principessa."

With that, your lips crash into his with a fire to rival your previous encounter.

"Brava ragazza," he compliments you, breathless, "So responsive for me."

You blush at his praises.

"Now, when I leave here, you're to act like you despised me. You want nothing to do with me or my people ever again, sì? And then I'll see you when the sun rises again." He gives you a wink and another kiss on the forehead before leaving you to face more of your stupid suitors.

• •

The next day, you dress in your common clothes again, you hadn't yet acquired a cotton petticoat or linen corset.

You slip out of one of the back gates, letting your handmaiden know you were going to the bazaar again. And heaven knows you don't know what possessed you, but you didn't wear anything except your thigh high stockings under your petticoat.

"How did things go with your papà?" Terzo asks, languidly laid out on his side under your reading tree.

"Well…" you sit next to him crossing your arms and propping them on your knees, feeling the cool breeze rush up your skirt. "No more French suitors," you coyly reply.

He bursts out a short laugh, leaning up to sit closer to you, "Mia principessa was convincing then. Eccellente." Terzo kisses your temple.

"Terzo," you address him directly.

"Hm?"

"Who are you? I know your name, but I don't know anything else. The thought of you drives me wild, don't you think I deserve to know you at least a little bit? You clearly know a lot about me."

"Sì, sì, you are right," he holds your face in his hands, admiring all the little details as if committing them to memory. "I cannot tell you who I am or what I do. You must believe me when I say this is for your own safety."

You think on it for a moment, chewing your lip. "At least tell me something about yourself. Something not many others know."

"Let's see… I like meeting with beautiful women in secret," he giggles and kisses you.

"Terzo…" You search his two toned eyes.

"Okie dokie, tesoro. I like to partake in the company of beautiful people; I don't enjoy waking up alone. I'm sure it's obvious that I'm far away from home, and that's because I'm in search of something to take back with me. And I write music; sometimes you might catch me at the pubs singing for others."

Yes, it was cryptic, but you felt like he was as honest as he could be.

"Hmmm… What's your favorite flower?" you question him.

"White roses."

"And what do you think of before you go to sleep?"

"Home."

"What is home like?"

"Old, but it's full of life," a genuine smile comes to his face at the thought.

"Thank you…" you whisper to him.

"For what, bella mia?"

"Honesty. Your honesty," you lean forward, giving him a chaste kiss.

His fingers weave into your hair, urging you to lean your head back, where he then starts peppering kisses across the soft skin of your jaw and neck. You think kissing him has to be your favorite thing in the world.

Your arms find a cozy spot on his waist so you can let him work on you. Traveling towards your shoulder, Terzo's fingertips slip your sleeve from your shoulder, exposing more skin to him. He leaves a playful nip at the end of your collarbone, earning a squeak from you.

Hands find his shoulder blades, scratching at his black tunic as he lays you back on the grass, hand cradling your head. His legs tangle with yours while his mouth worships the cleavage spilling from your dress.

With your fingers threaded in his raven colored hair, you pull his attention back to you, wanting his mouth on yours. As he situates himself above you, his hand hooks your knee on his hip. When that same hand starts to creep up your thigh under your petticoat, you feel something hard start to press against your pelvis.

Fighting every want in your body, you put a hand on his, stopping him. "We shouldn't…" Embarrassment washes over you. "I just, it's- I'm supposed to be pure for when I get married."

"Cara, you do not owe me an explanation. If you don't want to, then we don't, sì?" He sits you both up, looking you right in the eyes to let you know he means it.

You lean into his chest for a hug, and he pulls you into his lap, leaning back against the large shady tree. "I hate it… The future of my father's kingdom depends on me remaining untouched. All of it for a man I won't want to marry."

"Don't say that, dolcezza, you may meet someone and really love them." He tries to encourage you. "Besides, your virginity shouldn't matter to anyone, especially not some man. It doesn't matter to me."

"It doesn't?"

"No, of course not. It's just some foolish ideal of the Christian church to keep women controlled." You were a little taken aback, surprised at his progressive thinking and at his blatant dismissal of the church that your father was a conduit for.

"Well, I still don't think I'll find any suitor that I love," you look down at his chest, trying to find the words, "not when you're the one who occupies my heart."

"Don't say that, principessa…" he says as if the wind has just been knocked out if his chest. "You deserve someone much nicer than I."

"Nicer? I don't want nice. All of those stupid suitors are nothing but nice! I want passion, the fire that I feel with you, I- I want 𝘺𝘰𝘶. And you make me feel CRAZY for it! I hardly know you, yet you're all I think about. When I wake up in the morning I long for you to be there; when I try to sleep at night, I want you in my arms."

In that moment, he knew he'd found what he'd been searching for, the thing to take home with him: you.

Looking down at the emerald worn proudly on your chest for him, he admits his feelings, "Ti amo, principessa." No one had ever wormed their way into his heart as fast as you had. He still had much to reveal to you, and he couldn't wait to be open with you, but he knew he had to get you somewhere safe before that could happen.

You give him a few short kisses before standing up in front of him. After kicking off your shoes, you work the laces on your dress with expert fingers, loosening them and letting the linen fabric as well as your silk petticoat fall to ground around you.

Terzo stares up at you, drinking in the sight of your soft thighs hugged by the plush white stockings, your bare sex, and the curve of your waist that your corset forced onto you.

"Make love to me," you ask of him, biting your lip.

He stands up on his knees, approaching you to wrap his hands around the back of your thighs, and sucking a lovebite to your hipbone. "I would love nothing more, bella mia."

While looking up at you, he delicately kisses your inner thigh, right next to your core, making sure you're still okay with everything before placing a sloppy open mouthed kiss to your folds.

It's unlike anything you've ever felt before. It's wet and it's hot and it feels like heaven. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥… Without realizing, your hands tangled in his hair, pulling harshly and drawing a moan from the man beneath you.

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry if I hurt you…" You let go of him.

He opens his eyes to look at you through his lashes, "You're not going to hurt me." He takes your hand and puts it back on his head before going back to work, flicking his tongue happily over your clit.

Within seconds, your legs are shaking from him having total control over the bundle of nerves. "T-Terz-zo…" you stutter out.

He stops what he's doing and takes your hand in his, "Do you need to lie down, amore?"

You nod at him, and he helps you onto your back, but not before spreading his cloak out on the grass for you. Terzo picks your thighs up, squeezing tightly so your feet rest on his back, before getting right back to work. And with his next move, he has you seeing stars. His lips surround your clit and suck on it harshly, making you mewl for him to keep going.

He drops one of your thighs to tease your entrance with a finger, pressing in lightly to test the waters.

"Mmm! More!" you command.

With that, he slides a little deeper, slowly curling his finger over and over again, his mouth still sucking on you in just the right way.

"I- ah, Terzo, I'm-" your face is scrunched with pleasure as your orgasm reaches you.

Terzo can help but think about how fun this will be with you so sensitive as he helps you through it. After a few minutes, he sits up, still keeping that finger in you, working you slowly.

"Ready for another one, tesoro?" he asks.

"Another what?" you inquire innocently. He holds up his free hand and wiggles his digits. "Oh! Um, yes, please."

He slides out, slicking up his second finger and gingerly going back in. "You cum very easily," he states like it's the most casual thing in the world.

Feeling the stretch of his two fingers, you reply, "I do?" Being filled like this is completely foreign to you; it may take some getting used to.

He nods his head with a half smile, "It's cute."

"Oh," you feel heat come to your cheeks, and it's not from lust.

"Don't be ashamed, cara mia. I enjoy making you cum, and I'll make you do it again, and again, and again." He thrusts his fingers in time with his words to make his point.

You whimper at his motions, and he lays down next to you to make out with you yet again. Legs lifting in the air showing how needy you are for his fingers inside you, the feeling of his digits curling has that fire in your belly burn smoldering.

Hungrily, you start to toy with his tunic, needing to see more of him. "Terzo…"

His eyes find yours, the sun peeking through the canopy of the tree catching his pale face so beautifully. His hair is all messed up, falling over his eyes, irises blown wide with lust even in the bright daylight.

You reach out, fumbling with his hardness through his pants. "I need you," you pant out. In your mind, you knew there was no going back after this, but there was no stopping you either. Your desire for him was stronger than anything you'd ever felt.

He pulls his fingers from you, popping them right into his mouth; he wouldn't want to waste it after all. Next, his tunic flies off, pulled over his head hastily, exposing his chest, belly, and shoulders to you. Curious fingertips take in the expanse of skin, only serving to make you want more. He works at the ties on his trousers, fidgeting with the knot.

"Here, let me," you sit up, nimble fingers making quick work of it, just like your dress.

Seeing him lain bare is like a work of art; one that belongs in a museum for centuries to come. The long legs, the curve of his hip as he lays on his side, the hungry look in his eyes…

"Your turn," he whispers before pouncing on you, undoing the snaps on your corset before discarding it. Flipped on your back yet again with your lover atop you, his mouth explores your newly uncovered breasts. "Bellissima…" he grumbles against your chest.

With your legs wrapped around his hips, you pull him down so he's flush against you.

"Impatient, principessa," he kisses a trail up your neck to your jaw, "Always getting what she wants." He kisses you once on the lips, leaving you wanting more, "It will be no different with me; I'll give you everything your heart desires." And with that his lips meet with your again, soft at first before shifting back into the passionate rhythm you normally share.

Fingernails claw at his hips, still in desperate need to feel him inside you. As if reading your mind, his hand guides his hot girth through your slick folds, collecting every drop. He lets out a shaky breath and bites his lip, "Are you ready, tesoro?"

Already keening at the feeling, half from lust and half from anticipation, you nod your head fervently, "Yes! Yes, Terzo."

Not wanting to make you wait another second, he rocks his hips forward in a small motion, just pushing in a tiny bit. Terzo watches your face intently, waiting for any sign that he should stop. Slowly, he pulls back and slides right back in, a little deeper this time, "Bene?" he whispers to you.

"Mm-hmm," you confirm, getting used to the way he fills you.

He kisses your cheek with a hand on your hip to keep you still. As he starts going deeper, your face scrunches up, and he stops instantly, searching your face for what to do next.

"Just stay still for a moment," you caress his cheek, "It feels so good, I just need a moment." You feel his cock twitch inside you, making you realize how much he must be restraining himself to make you comfortable. You nod your head again, "Move," you demand.

Terzo doesn't hesitate, languidly pushing and pulling his hips, not even concerned with trying to go further for fear of hurting you. He lets out a soft groan at the pleasure washing over him.

"Deeper, I want to feel all of you," your hand snakes up between his shoulder blades lightly scratching.

He lifts his eyebrows as if to ask if you're sure, and you nod once again. With that, he adjusts his body to get back on his hands above you and makes sure your legs are properly wrapped around his hips; you even hook your ankles together so you don't go anywhere.

The change in angle alone feels wonderful, but when he thrusts into you solidly one time, you feel him sheath his himself into you fully. You gasp out at feeling his full length, the burn of it quickly melting away as he moves excitedly against you.

He stays on his hands for just a few more pulses of his hips before falling to his elbows so he can caress your form. "How is that, piccolina?"

"S-so good," you stammer.

"Sei così bella," (You look beautiful,) he pants hotly into your ear as his hand glides down the side of your body to grip your ass. His head nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder as he moans out his satisfaction.

Peaking over his shoulder, you watch his body move on top of yours: knees spread and toes digging into the ground to keep close to you, hips bouncing showing off the delicious curve of his ass and hip bone. It was a sight you could easily get used to.

Suddenly you feel another wave of pleasure creeping up on you, "Ohhh, Terzo…" you drag out his name.

"Sì, vieni per me, amore," (Yes, cum for me, love,) he grunts. You're not entirely sure what he's saying, but all it takes is a few strokes of his fingers on your center to have your tight wet heat clenching around his cock. "Sì, sì, bellissima, così bella…" (Yes, yes, very beautiful, so beautiful…)

You whine for him, hardly feeling like you're on planet earth anymore as you come undone at his hands. Things slow down for a brief period, as your lover lets you cool down from your high; he presses soft kisses to your collarbone as you stare up at the leaves in the tree.

Next, you certainly don't know what came over you, but you were pushing him up and to the side, and Terzo reacts quickly, holding your hips tight to him as he's rolled into his back. He looks genuinely impressed with that move as you instinctively begin to ride him, hands clutching his chest as you lift your hips and drop them.

The man beneath you helps guide you with a strong hand, and his other finds your throat again, squeezing lightly at your windpipe. You let out a small moan of anticipation at his actions. "Not quite yet, tesoro," he winks at you.

"Ughh," you groan only half frustrated. Legs more tired than you'd anticipated, you start sliding yourself back and forth rather than up and down, and it's pays off more than you would've expected as his length continuously grazes over that spot his fingers found earlier. It has that now familiar feeling building back up again, and you furrow your brow and bite your lips trying to stave it off.

"Don't fight it, cara mia, trova il tuo piacere con me…" (Find your pleasure with me…) And of course, as he promised, his hand returns to your neck, squeezing just the right way to make your head feel lighter than air. It only serves to heighten the sensations you feel and sends you toppling over in your release, literally.

Terzo holds you close as you crash down on top of him, cunt encircling his hard lust so deliciously. He cries out as his release explodes inside you, your name the only word on his lips, which is pretty impressive for a guy who knows at least two languages and never shuts up.

You can feel the warm liquid filling you; it makes you squirm on top of him. Returning the many kisses from earlier, you take your turn to adorn his pale skin with your love, as you both hold each other tightly.

Rolling off of him with shaky thighs, you bundle up in his large cloak as best you can, feeling more exposed now than before; it would certainly need to be cleaned later. He drags you right back over to him, cuddling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head. "Dolce mia, you could bring the Devil to his knees," he remarks, still catching his breath.

You look at him like he'd just said the most scandalous thing you'd ever heard, perhaps it was the most scandalous thing you'd ever heard, and he laughs heartily from his chest. A small giggle escapes you, and you offer him some of the cloak cuddle under with you. "You're gonna have to teach me all those Italian phrases, although maybe I don't wanna know what they mean," you blush at him, making him laugh again.

His lips find yours in a loving kiss, "There will be plenty of time for that, amore mio."

• •

The next time you see him, you have a ring on your finger and tears in your eyes.

"Stellina, you must dry your eyes. I can't stand to see you like this," he pulls you into a hug, his cloak wrapping around you once again; it always smells so much like him.

You had made a regular routine of meeting near the bazaar or under the reading tree every few days, whenever you weren't seeing suitors. Much to your dismay, the courting was over since your father selected a fiancé for you.

"Come, sit with me," Terzo whispers to you. He sits with his back against the tree and you in his lap, another habit you'd fallen into together in the short time you'd known one another. "Tell me what happened, cara mia."

"He was tired of waiting…" you sob, and Terzo knew you were referring to the king. "He said I was making the kingdom wait too long, and since relations between his and Lord Vogel's lands haven't been ideal lately, he's betrothed me to the man's son! I'm nothing more than a chess pawn to him!" You lean against your lover's chest, letting the tears flow.

"Amore, you are so much more than a simple pawn," he kisses your head, running his fingers through your hair repeatedly.

You sit up, looking in Terzo's eyes and cupping his cheek. "I don't want to marry him. For me, there is only you. I would give it all away if it meant I could have my life with you."

"Tesoro… Don't say that. You love your father, you're committed to your kingdom." How he wished he could whisk you away, but deep down he would feel so guilty for taking you away from everything you'd ever known.

"I do love my family, but I haven't been happy, not since I was first made to start seeing suitors. I know everyone thinks I'm just some stupid girl, but nothing has shown me the corruption of royalty and the blasphemous use of religion to play their little games better than being courted. They play games with people's lives, even the ones in their own homes!" You pound your fist against his chest and he clasps it in his, "Is that why you left your home? It makes me want to leave mine."

"No, cara mia. My home isn't like this. Everyone is accepted for who they wish to be, and everyone has the freedom to leave if they'd like. Even those in the royal blood line," Terzo explains.

"So you're from a kingdom too?" you ask.

"Eh, of sorts, but we don't call it that."

"I've never heard of a place like that. Sounds wonderful," you look down, wringing your hands together, fidgeting with your new ring. "Say, have you found the thing you're supposed to return home with yet?" you ask, referring to the first bit of information he ever told you about himself.

"Sì, I have, Stellina," he pets your hair lightly, playing with the ends.

"Well, then why haven't you gone back?" You look up at his mismatched eyes, the ones you never get tired of looking into.

"Because, ah… I found something here that feels like home, amore," he puts his hand over your heart, indicating that he's talking about you.

You put your hand over his, "Do you think… Could I be accepted where you're from?"

"Sì, we accept all, tesoro, no matter their background."

"Would you take me there?" you whisper.

Your lover diverts his eyes and remains silent.

"Terzo?"

Turning his eyes back to you, he has a painted expression on his face, like he's completely torn about what to do. "I fear you would feel like not more than a caged bird there, as well."

"Would I not be allowed to be with you?" you worry out loud.

"No, tesoro, we'll be together. I would never let anything take you from me," he takes your hand in his.

"If we stay here, my father will take me from you. I'll be sent off to another land and made to have someone else's babes," you remind him.

He leans his head back on the reading tree, sighing a deep breath, "I'd like to give you the choice, cara, but you have to know what you'll be involved with."

"Okay."

"I'll have to forgo some details, because it won't be safe for you should you decide not to return with me, but know that I will tell you everything when I can," he warns.

"I trust you, Terzo."

He takes in another breath, nervous that what he has to say will scare you away. "I'm to be the figurehead of a covert organization," the language sounded very practiced, not like how he usually speaks, "We seek out those who desire acceptance, freedom from the systems around them, an escape from corruption. When I return, I'll be expected to take a partner, just as you face, Stellina. Which is why I set out in search of love," he starts to sound more like himself again. "Cara, should you return with me, I'd like you to be mine. I know it would feel like you're trading one arranged marriage for another…"

His words make you realize just how similar you are, how he faced the same issue you did, and how despite it, you still found one another. "Amore," you try the new language on your tongue, "you're not only offering me a choice, you're offering me liberation… What was it you said so confidently in the woods that day? That you would be my salvation? Well, then… Free me."

That fire in your eyes had come back to him, the thing he loves most about you; you may be a princess, but you had some real fight in you. "Anything for you, principessa."

You chatted for the rest of the afternoon; what looked like casual talk between lovers was really planning and plotting for how he would get you out of the city, away from civilization, and slip quietly across the country side back to Italy.

"When do we leave?" you ask him with a warm smile. You straddle his lap now, fiddling with the edges of his cloak.

"Not for a few days, cara. You'll need a horse. I'll have to trade for one." He twirls your hair on his finger.

"We have horses at the castle, I could just take one," you offer.

"No, if they come looking for you, which they will, they would recognize one of their own horses, sì?"

"They would," you look down, feeling dumb for the suggestion.

He scoops your chin in his hand and kisses your nose. "It pains me to say it, tesoro, but you will have to cut your hair. Anyone could recognize your beauty."

"It will grow back," you bite your lip playfully and lean your forehead on his. "Hmm, what's this?" you ask, slipping a piece of paper from the lining of the cloak.

For a moment, he stiffens up like he wants to take it away from you, but he decides to let you read it… Except it's all in Italian.

"What does it say?" You look at him with innocence.

He takes the paper from you and clears his throat:

"Alessandro,

The halls of the abbey haven't been the same without your spirited presence. We wish you home soon, but no one understands more than I how you need this time away. The world is much bigger than we may know, especially in our little fortress here at home. Some may never find the love that you so desperately desire, but I will pray every day that I see you not return to these grounds until you have it. It will pain me not to see you each and every day, not to hold you close to me even though it makes you squirm for freedom, but this is a journey you must make for yourself and for your future love.

Your mother, Felìcita"

He's not sure why he felt compelled to share it with you, but he felt there was no need to hide anymore.

"And this letter is yours? I thought your name was Terzo?"

"Sì," he huffs a small laugh at you, "it is. Terzo is one of my names, but Alessandro is my birth name. No one calls me that except mia madre." He smiles foldly thinking of her.

"Oh," you pause for a moment, taking in all the little details you'd just learned about him and where he comes from. You can't help but imagine his mother as a loving and caring woman, something you hadn't known since losing yours. "Alessandro," You lock eyes with one another at the use of his name. "Ti amo… Is that how you say it?"

He smiles broadly, giving you a quick kiss, "Sì, I love you too, principessa."

• •

The task at hand is simple: sneak out of the castle just like you do all the time, even a few times at night, but now it was for forever. There would be no returning.

You scan your suite one final time, silently thanking the walls for harboring you and all the feelings you'd cried, screamed, punched into them over the years. Of all the places in the castle, this was your favorite; however, it was also the place that kept you hidden away from the rest of the world.

Sliding your engagement ring off of your finger, you leave it on the bedside table. It would be obvious that you ran away, no signs of struggle, just a bird free from the cage. You clasp the pendant Terzo had given you around your neck, immediately feeling his energy wash over you. Whatever he had done to that necklace, you couldn't explain.

Finally, slipping into your darkest cloak, a deep maroon, and picking up the bag of things you'd need: warm layers, extra riding shoes, and your mom's bracelet that she'd worn on her wedding day to your father. Quickly taking a peek out of your high up window, you see a few guards on rotation, some look asleep, others just wandering around. You had rested up as much as you could the last few days, knowing you had a long night ahead of you.

Taking a few pebbles from a small plant you had in your room and shoving them in your pocket, you close the window and leave the room, not only locking the door behind you, but breaking the key off in the keyhole. The longer it took for them to see you were gone, the better.

Sneaking down staircases and through back corridors seemingly lost to time, you made it to your usual back door. Cracking it open slowly, you scan to see where the guards are: none in sight, and your exit gate is just a few paces away. Stepping out into the cool night, you hear two guards chatting around the corner. Hiding behind a stack of barrels, you launch a couple of pebbles in their direction, and they ping off of a watering trough nearby.

As expected, it grabs their attention and they saunter over, completely unaware of your presence. Taking your opportunity, you quietly run over to the gate, flipping the latch as silently as possible and squeezing out, opening it only a little. Once on the other side, you try to even out your nervous breathing and quietly click the latch closed.

You take one last look up at the castle before turning to walk away; you had to walk while still in earshot of the palace, but once you are far away, your feet start to fly, carrying you fast and hard toward your lover. Holding the pendant against your chest, you feel his pride swelter in your chest.

Breathing hard as you run past the farmer's wheat field, you nod a final goodbye to the reading tree, warm memories of the spot flashing in your mind. You make your way towards town, near the bazaar was a tavern where Terzo would be waiting for you.

Perfect timing too, as the raven haired man exits the bar, you approach, stopping near the brothel by the stables. A few ladies of the night wait around to draw in what would be their pay for the evening, and one of them compliments how pretty you are.

"Alrighty, fellas, it's time for me to call it a night," he says to the two guys on either side of him, all hanging onto one another drunk. He spots you and gives you a wink.

"Planning to sneak off and bed one of the harlots over there?" one of the guys jabs at his side.

"Sì, sì, I think I've got my eyes on one," Terzo chuckles.

"Aye, hopefully she's good," the other guy says as your lover separates himself from them, making his way over to you.

"Oh, she is," he mumbles to himself.

As he approaches you, swiping a hand through your hair and tickling your chin, one of the bar guys calls out, "Aye!!! That don't look like no common whore." 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵. They were onto you; perhaps your disguises weren't as good as you thought.

Hesitating for a second and looking at Terzo with wide eyes, you jump right to action, bending over and lifting your skirt, gathering the fabric to show off your leg. You unhook a couple of garter clips, sliding one of your stockings down exposing the flesh of your thigh and giving the man before you the most sultry bedroom eyes you could muster.

Terzo responds with a low whistle and a shit eating grin, waving the other guys off before leading you back behind the brothel. You try to hide the giggle that works its way out of you, "I'm not sure what came over me, I just thought it was the best way to get them off our trail," you excitedly explain as Terzo presses you up against the wall, lips crashing into yours.

His body pressed tight against yours, giving anyone that might still see you the impression that he wanted to give off. "Brava ragazza, bella mia, I think you fooled them all," he praises you hotly in your ear.

Your fingers tangle in his black locks, and you attack his lips again. "Tutto per te, amore mio," (All for you, my love,) you tell him, you'd stolen a book from the kingdom's library to practice your Italian, but don't worry, you made sure to put it back before you left, not leaving any trace as to where you would be going.

Terzo growls against your lips, frustrated he can't take you right here and now. Once he's sure those guys went back inside the pub, he drags you by the hand over to his horse--a gorgeous midnight black. Lifting you by the hips, he sits you up on the horse's back, who lets out a huff. "Oh hush, bella ragazza, it's only for a little while," he scolds the horse playfully, giving her nose a scratch.

As Terzo hoists himself up on the animal, you catch the eye of the lady that complimented you earlier. She holds a questioning look on her face, so you throw a finger over your lips, silently asking her to keep your secret. She nods slowly at you, waving her ornate fan a few times in front of her face, a signal telling you to go while you can.

You nudge your lover's side, telling him it's time, and you cling to him tightly, riding side saddle in front of him, as he whips the reins, and you disappear into the woods.

• •

The first few days of travel would be the hardest. A few miles into the woods, Terzo would meet up with the horse he'd found for you, a beautiful dappled stallion, and from there you would ride separately. You would ride through the whole first night; it's important to make as much distance as possible as early into the trip as you can, because it will mean more distance between you and the knights that search for you.

You will catch naps and food as often as you can, but you will move almost constantly through small towns, fields, woods for about two to three days. When you get your first real break, setting up camp deep in some forest, Terzo will cut your hair and bury it, leaving no trace of your locks; he will also rub some dirt in your hair in an effort to change the color and texture even if only a little. And then you will move some more.

Everything went exactly as your lover told you it would. You were tired, exhausted really, from lack of sleep, having to take shifts to listen for danger, when all you really wanted was to hold him close and drift off. The smell wasn't great; you certainly weren't used to spending extended time like this outdoors with no bath. But you are happy.

Happy to be free from a marriage you didn't want. Happy to be by Alessandro's side; you'd really grown to understand one another well, especially when you are having to survive the elements and possible danger lurking at every corner.

"Alessandro, look! A stream!" you chirp happily, riding horse back, sun spilling through the trees

The use of his name made his lips quirk upward; he liked that you'd made a habit of it. "Sì, we should refill our cannisters," he points out.

"It looks so nice, amore, deep enough to step in. Do you think we could stop just for a quick bath?" Your eyes beg him.

As much as he didn't want to waste a moment in your escape, he knew it would make you feel better. He nods his head and leads the horses over to the running water.

Within seconds, you're dismounted and shedding layers of fabric. It was a nice warm day, and you planned on soaking it in, at least for the little while that you could before heading out again.

Terzo chuckles at you as you stand in your undergarments before him.

"Coming in, lover boy?" you tease, unsnapping the top few buttons on your corset, squeezing your cleavage together nicely.

"I shouldn't," he looks you up and down, biting his lip to hide his mirth.

"Oh, but you should. You smell just as much as I. Together we're probably worse than that horse's ass," you throw over your shoulder as you disrobe the last of your clothes, and stepping into the stream.

Terzo watches you candidly, as he refills your drinking water supply. Watching as your wet, naked body glistens and sparkles in the sun.

You dip your head in the water, fingers struggling to get used to the shorter length of your hair as you loosen the clay that tangles your locks. Terzo will insist on reapplying it, but for now, it's nice to let your hair down, so to speak.

Speaking of the sneaky bastard, he'd already slipped out of his clothes and was joining you for a quick dip. "Mmm, hello, cara mia," he greets you, wrapping his arms around your frame, bringing you close to him.

"I thought you weren't coming in," you whisper jokingly.

"You know I can't resist you like this, principessa," he kisses your cheek and ear a few times.

"I hardly feel like a princess like this," you cringe.

"You will always be my princess, all mine." Slowly you kiss one another. You hadn't had much time for romance since running away, so it felt incredibly intimate being able to kiss him so languidly. He holds your jaw so delicately, as your hands rinse the cool water over his strong chest.

As his thumb teases at your throat, you let out a small moan. He feels your breath on his face and he gently pries your mouth open to allow his tongue access. Gently, hands roam and caress one another, reveling in feeling one another's bodies as you hadn't been able to in days.

"Cara," Terzo sighs, pressing his hardening length against your hip. It was pretty incredible how you went from such a timid little thing to confidently handling your lover's desire as your palm strokes him, making him rut up into your cupped hand. Fingers dip between your folds, indicating his need to satiate you as well.

Touch starved, it wouldn't take long for either of you; the last time you'd made love was days before your escape from the castle.

The raven haired man lifts one of your thighs up to his hip and then removes his hand from your core to start lining his throbbing member up with your entrance.

"Oh, please, Ale… You always feel so good," you praise him and a soft blush comes to his cheeks. "Did you like that, huh?" You ask as you feel him press into you, "Like when I compliment you, pretty boy?"

His duotoned eyes flash up to yours, lips curling into a smile despite his jaw dropping open at the feeling of your walls flush around his burning lust for you. He nods his head, wanting to hear more. He holds you tightly to him as his hips buck up into your heat, needy for your body and your affections.

"You're so sweet, my Alessandro, oh- ahhh! Your cock feels perfect inside me," you continue.

He grunts softly, letting his head fall to the crook of your neck as he rolls one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger.

With a hand under his chin, you lift his face, "Look at me, handsome."

He bites his lips before pressing them to yours in a heated make out. Your fingers tangle in his unruly locks, and he angles you back slightly, looking to thrust deeper into your delicate walls.

Finding just the right spot, you know you'll be done in seconds. "Touch me Ale, make me feel like a goddess the way you always do," you choke out, fingers pulling at his hair and scratching vicious red lines across the pale skin of his back.

He quickly obliges, making sure to pay special attention to your clit, sending you right into your climax. "Ah!" you cry out, cunt clinching around his swollen desire. A few more pumps and he's filling you with ropes of his seed.

You hold him tightly as you ride out your orgasm, panting out, "See what you do to me, amore? That should be the biggest compliment of all."

He gives you a coy look, "Sì, I do enjoy making you come undone," his confident self returning.

"And you're so good at it," you kiss the tip of his nose, as he slips out of you, shivering at the loss of your warmth, especially in the cool stream flowing around you.

You both take time to dote over one another, washing every inch and savoring the moment before you'll have to be on the move again.

"I could never have done this without you, Terzo," you ponder as you rub his shoulder blades.

"Hm?" he spins around in the water to face you.

"All of it. Running away, traveling south through the woods, living outdoors. I never would've had the courage to do that without you."

His face flushes at your praises again, though this time for a different reason. "I wouldn't be taking this journey without you either, principessa. I'm so glad I found you." Cupping your face, he kisses you a few more times before it's time to get out and dry off.

• •

Back on the horse, feeling much fresher than before, a change of undergarments and all, you and Terzo took the horses quickly through the trees at a nice trot to make up for your little stop a couple miles back.

Suddenly, you hear another set of hooves moving quickly at a distance, as you turn to see who or what it is-

"DUCK!" Terzo screams at you, and you do, the knight speeding by you barely missing you as his arm whips through the air above your crouched body.

You immediately pull your horse to a halt, as does your lover, knife already in hand. Your hand finds the hilt of the knife he'd given you, gripping it tightly under your cloak as you watch the knight circle back towards you: one of your father's. Your stomach drops, and you have to focus to not throw up.

"Aye! There you are little princess!" he hollers out, his pewter helmet glimmering in the sun. "Taking on a different look, huh?" he refers to your hair. "Make this easy on all of us, and come with me. Then maybe your father will be merciful on your boyfriend here, yeah?"

"No." It was all you could manage. You hadn't worked so hard and come all this way to lose it all now.

He urges his horse forward in between yours and Terzo's, making a move to grab at you. Not wanting the knight to get you onto his horse, Terzo swiftly dismounts and yanks the man by his leg, pulling him from his own saddle. He did manage a hand on your wrist which involuntarily dismounts you as well.

Hitting the ground with some force, you gasp for air as the two men entangle in a fight with one another. Your lover isn't the largest man, but he was explosive like dynamite taking on one of your father's largest soldiers in all his armor.

Terzo works to rip parts of the other man's armor from his body, flinging an arm piece across the forest floor like a vicious animal. He expertly evades the larger man's punches, slowed a bit by the heavy metal on his person.

As you sit up, trying to right yourself again, you hear, "Get her! Grab her and take her back to the base camp," from the man fighting Terzo. You look up to see another knight riding up and dismounting, smaller than the other guy, thank heavens.

He chuckles a cocky laugh, heading right for you, "Come on, little princess." The second knight grabs your arm, forcing you up off of the ground. As you look into his eyes, you sober right up from being knocked off your horse, instincts taking over. You push and kick as hard as you can, fighting against him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the first knight with his hands around your lover's throat, hoisting him up against a tree. Your eyes widen in horror as you see Alessandro red in the face and sputtering for air, arms outstretched trying to tip the man's helmet off his head.

The knight fighting you made the mistake of underestimating you, as he was dragging you back to his horse only holding onto you with one arm. Like a trained mercenary, you knew what to do. Fast as you could muster, you unsheathed your knife, whistling at him to get him to look at you, and before he could even form a word, your blade was sunk into the soft spot between his chest plate and his helmet.

Harshly dragging the blade from his neck, he drops to the ground as life leaves him. Looking deliriously as the fight between your lover and the knight turns bad, you rush over, dipping to grab a fallen branch in your path.

Terzo looks at you over the knights shoulder, eyes bloodshot as he takes in your beauty seemingly for the last time. Just as his struggling fingers finally tip the dense metal from the knight's head, a loud crack sounds through the forest as your branch meets with your assailant's dome.

Slumping to the side on his knees before falling over, the knight releases your lover, who draws in a raspy breath, coughing painfully. Adrenaline still pumping through his veins, Terzo reaches for his own knife that had fallen to the ground and kneels above the knight that tried to kill him.

You move toward them, holding back one of the knights arms as your lover kneels on the other, swiftly cutting his throat, blood spilling out everywhere.

Stepping around his body, you hold Alessandro to your chest, a million thoughts rushing through your mind, "Oh my god, Terzo… we killed them," you cry into his chest as you both try fill your lungs with air, breathing unevenly and seemingly fighting the atmosphere around you.

"Amore, we must go. You heard them; there are more," Terzo helps you stand, getting you right back on your horse and sending them running at a full gallop with a harsh smack. Seconds later, he's following right behind you.

You ran the horses as fast as you could for as long as they could take it, tears streaming down your face over the danger afoot, the near loss of your lover, the sin you'd just committed against those knights. Love had changed you, for better or for worse.

• •

The days were long, full of worry that your father's knights would catch up to you once again. At night, you held each other closer than before, often unable to sleep over the anxiety and guilt that riddled your mind.

Finally a small relief came: you were getting close to Italy, and Terzo said he knows the tavern keeper in the next town. You'd ventured into towns to buy food and try to get a reading on how far the search party for you had fanned out, but you'd never stayed the night. Your lover was confident you'd be safe, a feeling you both needed.

As Terzo and the tavern keeper share a whispered greeting, you find a place to rest your feet, your back, your hips. Everything was sore. Between that and the mud and dirt crusted on your face and hair in an attempt to conceal your identity, you can only imagine how terrible you look right now. You could hardly bring yourself to care, only concerned with your safety and right now… relaxing.

Your lover reappears next to you, a glass of mead in each hand. Surely your eyebrows gave away that you were hesitant about drinking whatever was in that glass.

"C'mon, don't be such a 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢 about it," he teases you, setting a glass in front of you. As you look left and right to make sure no one took his joke seriously, Terzo kicks back in the chair opposite you and takes a large swig of the amber liquid. "È buono, try some." He throws a wink at you.

He enjoys watching you squirm as you attempt the drink in front of you. Although it wasn't the wine you were used to having at the dinner table, it wasn't bad. In fact, after a few more sips, you could see why people liked it enough to get drunk on it.

Terzo cups your chin in his fingers, swiping across your bottom lip with his thumb. He throws a smug grin at you before throwing the rest of his glass back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, and standing up again, chair scraping across the floor.

"What-"

"Do not worry, bella mia. I will return," he winks at you, striding across the tavern, weaving between tables to the guy in the corner with a lute. You watch as he mumbles something to the bard, hands him a coin in trade for the lute.

Pulling up a stool in the center of the tavern, he sits and starts to tune the instrument, tweaking the pegs until it sounds just right. You didn't know he had an ear like that, although you think he mentioned something about tavern singing at some point.

He quickly clears his throat, strumming a gentle melody on the acoustic instrument, and starts with the lyrics,

"In an ice-capped fire Of burning wood In our world of wire Ignite our dreams Of starry skies And you and me As realised Our bigger themes"

Of course, he glanced up at you often. His cheeks flushed as he sang to you; it was obvious he was used to serenading perhaps whoever he was trying to lure in for the evening, but for you it was different. You meant more than that. Much more.

"Oh, take me internally Forever yours Nocturnal me, Take me internally Forever yours Nocturnal me…"

Even the ladies of the night are blushing at the innuendo in those lyrics were. Alessandro's lusty eyes find yours, as he continues filling the room with his beautiful melody.

You feel an overwhelming sensation of adoration and love as the emerald pendant on your chest starts glowing lightly, buzzing once again. You could tell that the feelings you were feeling were not only yours, but his as well.

Accompanied by that, a familiar warmth settles between your legs, growing to an uncontrollable burn by the end of the tune. You can't begin to understand the way that the pendant connects your feelings to his, but right now the solution is having your way with your lover.

After Terzo's song concludes, he receives a fair amount of applause as he returns the bard's lute and heads back your way, eyes piercing you.

Your breath hitches in your throat at his gaze before he takes you by the hand, pulling you up out of your seat and kissing your knuckles. It feels like all eyes in the room are on you two, and your survival instincts fight with your desire for him.

Without a word, he sweeps you across the tavern, heading toward the stairs by the bar to take you up to a room.

"Aye! We don't allow that kind of business in this establishment!" the tavern keeper flags Terzo down.

Your lover looks shocked, but notices the silver coin in the man's hand straight away.

The owner taps the coin on the counter, displaying a knight's helmet on it, leaning in closer to you both to and speaking in a more hushed tone, "Ladies of the night aren't welcome to run their operations here; it would be best if you seek refuge in the brothel across the way." He tilts his head towards the exit.

The message is covert but clear: there are knights upstairs, and you need to get out of here fast.

𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵'𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘛𝘦𝘳𝘻𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 ��𝘩𝘢𝘵?

"Ah! Mi dispiace, amico. We will not disturb you any further," your lover exuberantly replies, leading you towards the door.

You are warmly invited into the brothel with your lover, a few of the women pining over him, playing with whisps of his hair or swiping their fingers across his shoulder. It was enough reason to suspect he'd been here before too…

When he brushes them off, asking politely for a room for the two of you, the insecurities you'd been feeling melt away; it's clear he only has eyes for you.

A point that only becomes more evident when Alessandro whisks you into your room for the night, immediately pinning you to the door with his mouth latched to your neck. "Terz…"

He caresses you, pressing his body right up against yours. "I know, amore mio, I want you so badly. Sei così bella…"

You feel anything but beautiful right now. "No, Ale, I-"

Your lover's actions come to a screeching halt as he hears the tone in your voice: one of fear and worry. Two things you should never have to feel, in his humble opinion.

"I don't think I can do this… What if those guards find us? Terzo, I'm so scared," you cling to his cloak with frustrated fists, leaning your forehead against his chest.

"Do not fret, cara mia. I know it feels as if we are in the lion's den, but you are safe here. I know many people in this little village, and they will not give us away." He smoothes back your tangled hair, trying to ease your mind.

"But they can't stop those knights from seeing us! They can't stop them from recognizing me," you have real urgency present in your voice and in the way you look at him.

"Well…" He pauses to think for a moment. "What if I set up an alert system? I can have le signore here on lookout for us tonight, and we'll leave before sunrise, sì?" He rubs your arms, leading you over to the bed to at least sit down.

Your nerves are so on edge, you feel like you could ride off into the forest right now, into some secret tunnel that would take you to your destination… But you knew that wouldn't be good for you: number one because of exhaustion, and number two because you're clearly delirious if you're hoping for some imaginary path through these mountains. Relaxing into the plush mat on the bed, it wasn't much, but it was certainly so much nicer than the hard ground you'd unfortunately had to get used to.

"Principessa," Alessandro whispers to you, "You are tired. Get some rest, tesoro. I will make sure we are safe," he coos, helping you lie back in bed.

Sleepiness has hit you like a wall, especially being in a bed for the first time in what felt like months. "Amore… I trust you," you squeak out before pressing a soft kiss to his lips and allowing yourself to truly relax. Within minutes, you're out, softly making little noises in your sleep.

Terzo smiles down at you, carefully pressing his lips to your temple before slipping from the room. He's got work to do.

• •

Waking in Alessandro's warm embrace was something you'd happily gotten used to, often holding onto each other out of necessity on cold nights, but to wake in a bed, bundled up and fairly well-rested… Now this is something you'd like to experience more often.

Turning over to see Terzo's bare chest, you wish you had more time to show it your affection, but the sun will be showing itself soon.

Grumbly and not wanting to separate himself from you, it's a challenge waking the sleepy man.

"Now who's being a 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢, huh?" you quietly jab at him. "C'mon, bed bug, we've got to get moving before those knights do."

He groans, finally cracking his eyes open, "I told you, amore, we have nothing to worry about with that." He smooches your forehead before you climb out of bed.

"Yeah, we won't have anything to worry about if we leave!" you chuckle, trying to be as lighthearted as you can by chucking his cloak at his lying form.

"Eh!" He swats his hand playfully before finally getting up.

After lacing up your corset, you lean down to retrieve Terzo's shirt noticing something on the sleeve. "What is this?" you ponder quietly before turning to him. "Why is there blood on your cuff here?"

He saunters over, giving you that devilishly handsome smile and taking the shirt from your hands, "Perhaps I nicked myself on something." His tone is nonchalant as he goes back to getting ready.

It has you suspicious, but you decide to shrug it off.

Outside in the stables finally, Terzo helps you up on your steed before mounting his own. He looks you over as if sizing up a meal, admiring the way you'd really risen to the challenge of fleeing your home.

"What's that look for?" you giggle at him.

"Just observing what I didn't get to have a taste of last night," he smirks.

The objectification makes you blush and wish you hadn't gotten so in your own head after leaving the tavern. But before you can snap a quick remark, a few men, including the tavern owner, return from the treeline, shovels in hand. You notice Terzo nod a knowing look at them.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

Thinking on it for a few seconds, you piece the clues together, but decide now isn't the time to ask. Instead, you whip your horse's reins, running away from your problems once again.

• •

Settled in by the hearth after a delicious dinner with some friends of Terzo's, you lean into the man's chest as the mother of the household reads to everyone. It's a lovely story that the family had been working through together, but you only understand bits and pieces of the Italian lilting though the room. Instead you opt to mostly enjoy the comfortable silence between you and your lover, contentedly listening to his heartbeat.

This well-to-do family had a room to offer you for the night, refuge from the winding paths in the mountains, and secrecy from those who might come looking for you. Luckily, you hadn't encountered any more of your father's knights since the last town a few days ago, and you hoped you wouldn't… for their sake, especially if Terzo did what you think he did.

"Tesoro?" his voice pulls you from your thoughts as you undress for bed.

"Hm?" you turn to him.

Dramatically, he steps across the room, shirt hanging open, as he cups your cheeks in his large hands, fingertips tracing your earlobe and jawline. "Are you alright, cara mia? You've been unlike yourself the past few days, not talking as much. Have I done something to upset you?"

His last question was right on the mark, if your suspicions were correct. "Did… Did you kill those knights in the last town?" your lip quivers and you start to tear up, confronting the guilt you'd been trying to ignore since then.

"Sì, amore, I did," he starts, and as you begin to interject, he continues, "but I did it for you."

"Do not use me as an excuse, Alessandro! Why would you do it?!" Anger starts to replace your tears.

"Amore… I would do 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 for you. I did it to keep us safe! You were right when you said that those knights could catch us. I had given myself a false sense of security being in a familiar place with familiar faces." He steps back, allowing you the space to process his words.

His explanation was plainly honest, simple, didn't beat around the bush. Yet, it still vexes you that you know hardly a thing about his position, where you're going, why he has to be so secretive. And now he's killed your father's knights twice to keep you out of their grasp. You can't help but question his intentions since your stay in the last town…

"You would do anything for me?" you repeat, voice small.

"Sì. Anything. Everything, principessa! I want to marry you, amore, give you as many piccoli bambini as you want! I would do anything to have you and to love you for eternity… even killing those knights to know they won't take you from my arms." As he verbalizes his dedication to you, his emotions swell, causing the pendant on your neck to glow once again, letting you feel just how much he means it.

Perhaps you'd gotten in your own head once again.

Your fingers trace across the emerald as they often did. "Marry me?" is all you can utter.

"Certo che," (Of course,) he whispers, lashes wet as he moves to hold you close to him again. "Ti amo così tanto, bella mia." (I love you so much, beautiful.)

"I love you, too," you mumble into his chest, but then look up at him, "I think I've wanted to marry you since the moment you held that knife to my throat."

You both share small chuckle, noses nuzzled together, Terzo's fingers dancing in your hair as the moonlight spills in through the little window. Softly, he presses a kiss to your lips, relieved that you aren't angry with him anymore. He had feared he would lose you over his own actions rather than anything taking you from him.

"But," you start, and his eyes quickly flick to meet yours, "it's time you tell me the truth."

"Cara mia, we are only two days away-"

"Exactly, Alé. Don't you think I should know what I'm getting into? Who I'll be around? What you're involved in? I've been very patient, and I've put all my trust in you, amore. Nothing you have to say could change my feelings about us," you press him, but also reassure him.

Deep down, he knows you're right yet again. While it would be the safest option to wait until you have arrived at the Abbey, he can't expect you to walk into this blindly. "Okie dokie, principessa, where would you like to start?"

You pause, the realization dawning on you that you finally get to ask the millions of questions you've had. Naturally, your mind goes blank, only coming up with one simple but open ended question. "Who are you?"

The man before you chuckles as he guides you to sit on the plush bed with him. "Tesoro, you know who I am… Truthfully, you know me better than most."

"Terz- Alessandro," you start, unsure what you should call him in your mild irritation at that answer, "Who are you? What's your title? Are you important in… wherever we're going? Where are we going? Is it a kingdom? Who's the ruler there? What's it like?" The dam broke and all the questions leave you in a rush.

"Principessa," he stops the flood. "My name is Alessandro Terzo Emeritus. As for the rest of your questions, perhaps I should start where you ended." He takes your hands in his, clearing his throat. "My home is bellissima. It's not like any place you've ever seen. It's an Abbey, secluded away from the world around it. Peaceful. It's peaceful and protected there."

"What are you protecting?" you quietly interject.

He chuckles before continuing. "Our way of life, cara mia. We are a people of liberation, free will, acceptance. In structure, it is not a kingdom; however, it is not unlike the Catholicism you grew up knowing, but without all the rules. We have loyal followers, we have ministry workers, a clergy."

You sit in silence, his explanation only leading you to a million 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 questions.

"But you see, bella, we are not like Christianity in our spirituality. It's not something most are born into, it is something that is found. We have many of the tenets you are familiar with from your father's religion without all that silly worry about sin…"

You can tell he is hesitant to come out and say it. This is the thing that isn't safe to know. You wonder if it isn't safe because of how you'll feel about it or if it really could bring you danger for knowing about it.

Both is the answer.

"Cara mia, I am a part of the Church of Satan."

Again, silence falls over the room as you collect your thoughts. "Well… It's alright if you practice a different religion. I haven't felt particularly close to my own lately. So you live in this ministry? Do all of the followers live there?"

He gives you a half smile at your naivety. "No, bella, typically our followers do not all live there. Some come seeking refuge, but they do not have to stay, though many who do become Siblings of Sin."

"Siblings of Sin?" you repeat, "Are those like nuns?"

He chuckles again, nodding at you.

"So are you a… Brother of Sin?"

Another smile. And another thing he loves about you: your curiosity far outweighs your need to judge anyone.

"No, again. I am in the clergy. I am one of the few that is raised in the religion, although we are welcome to leave should we choose. My whole life I've been molded to be its leader, and the time is coming soon, which is why I set out to find you, amore."

"Me? The leader? What does that have to do with me?" you are genuinely concerned.

"Perhaps my wording was cryptic, mi dispiace. I just mean to say that once I am in charge, I won't have much time to be away from my duties, so I set out to find love before that time comes." Your lover cups your cheek, basking in how gorgeous you look in the pale moonlight.

"Oh," you smile, relieved. "So… You will be- the Pope? If it's like Catholicism."

"Sì. Papa. Papa Emeritus the Third, preceded by mio fratello, Papa Emeritus the Second, or Secondo when he's being a stronzo," he rolls his eyes at the thought, and you can't help but picture the sibling rivalry.

Somehow you've just found out he's the Antipope, opposite your religion, and all you find yourself thinking about is that he has a brother, maybe even two if there is a Papa Emeritus the First. Then you remember the letter from his mom… His whole family is waiting for him back home, and you can't wait to meet them!

Suddenly, you let out a sob, biting your lip and looking up at him through watery eyes. Hugging him tightly and crying into his chest, you hear him tell you, "I understand if it is all too much. I understand if you do not wish to be bound to me, mia dea. I do still hope you'll come along with me; you'll be safe there, no matter your beliefs. We can just be lovers, even if you never want more, amore, I'll understand."

Sniffling as you wipe your tears away, you search for your favorite mismatched eyes, "What do you mean, Alé? I'm happy. I'm finally happy, don't you see?" You hold his face in your hands, nuzzling noses once again. "It isn't lost on me the irony that I left the king of one religion just to please another, but at least I did it of my own accord. You gave me the choice, and that is what makes me love you, Alessandro Terzo Emeritus. You may have set me free… But my only wish is to be bound to you, eternally." Another pause, "Forever yours, nocturnal me. Just like your song, right?"

Sincerity is written across his face at your words; with an arm wrapped around your waist, he pulls you to straddle his lap, "𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 song," he tells you before his lips crash into yours.

• •

Sun now spills in the room as your eyes squint open. Slumped down into the cushiony bed, your body thoroughly relaxed from the way he worked every tension from your aching body last night, you find it hard to even move. But turning to find an empty spot next to you, motivation to once again be close to your lover encourages your feet to carry you through getting dressed and finding him at the dining table with the family hosting you.

Peeking through the doorway, you watch as he throws his head back in laughter, joking with one of the little boys, making him squeal and giggle. You wonder what he'll be like as a father to his own one day.

"What are you smiling at, tesoro? Come, sit," Terzo stands, pulling out a chair for you.

"Thank you," you tell him, sitting at the table with everyone.

Breakfast is delicious, and you're so grateful for the warm meals and hot bath and soft bed this family has offered you. Between table chatter, a small broach on the mother's dress catches your eye.

"Is everything alright, dear?" she asks, clearly catching you staring at it.

"Oh! Apologies, my apologies. I just spotted your pin… What does it mean?" you cringe at your own bad manners.

"Oh!" she also exclaims, "My Grucifix?" The mother runs her fingers over it almost affectionately. "Terzo… You've done a poor job informing the girl where you're taking her!" She jokes lightheartedly.

"We discussed everything late last night," he gently squeezes your hand. "I just haven't had a chance to… Show her everything: the symbolism, scriptures-"

"Your paints?" The mother asks excitedly.

You offer a confused look. 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘛𝘦𝘳𝘻𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘯?

"No, I-" Terzo starts but is interrupted again.

"Honey," the father of the family smiles at his wife, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let them move at their own pace."

You and Terzo both silently sigh your relief. He wants to tell you more, but not now.

"So, you all are followers of Terzo's Church then?" you ask, not really sure how to word it.

"My husband and I are, the children will be allowed to decide for themselves if that's what they would like to believe," the mother answers softly. "This is the symbol of Papa's church specifically, to answer your earlier question, dear."

You spend the rest of breakfast happily chatting away before having to return to the journey at hand.

"Mm, can't we stay, Alé?" you groan into his shoulder after he affixes your horse's saddle.

Hugging you lazily, he kisses your forehead, "I would dare say we could… If I weren't so concerned about delivering us home, amore mio."

"Do you think they'll like me there?" you ponder out loud.

"Like you? Tesoro, they'll adore you. Some will even wish they could be you." He looks you over amorously.

"I'll be that important, huh?" You offer him a smile.

"Oh, sì, sì. As my Prime Mover, everyone will look to you as a beacon of warmth and understanding."

His answer makes you a little nervous. You hadn't really thought about his followers also looking up to you; women don't really have a position in Catholicism, other than nuns. Now his words from last night about not wanting to be bound to him make sense.

"Prime Mover…" You won't let the challenge scare you away. "I hope I can do the position, and you, the justice it deserves," you nod your head reassuringly, kissing him softly several times.

Hesitantly, he pulls away from you. "Mm, tesoro, while I could kiss you all day, we must go," he reminds you, before helping you on your horse for the millionth time in the past few weeks.

• •

Sun was setting, leaving long dramatic shadows cast across the first floor by the tall trees. Terzo is so excited, he can hardly contain it. You're close to your final destination and it hardly feels real. Traveling with him is all you'd known thus far.

"THERE!" He points suddenly, and you're not even sure what he pointed at before he sharply commands his horse to a gallop, spooking yours into doing the same!

You may have let out a scream struggling to hold onto your horse, "Terzo?! What are you doing??!"

"Look, cara mia! Casa!" Home. It's finally within his grasp.

You come up on the beautiful brick abbey at full speed; with it's towering spires and winding vines, it casts some interesting shadows at sunset. Stunning, nonetheless.

Some tall stocky men in silver masks run out of a side door at full sprint. Upon the terrace, Terzo abruptly stops his horse and flies from the saddle, directly towards the largest man. "Omega!" he chirps as they practically slam their bodies against one another in a fierce hug.

Slowing your horse to a halt, unlike your lover, you patiently wait for the men to greet one another. They were clearly all very close. The one called Omega almost acted like an obedient dog thrilled to see his owner after so long and needing a good scratch behind the ears. Observing the devilish look of their masks and the mysterious way they move, a whole new list of questions comes to mind.

"Mamma!" Terzo running towards an older woman with long black wavy hair catches your attention. She has beautiful with warm green eyes; must be where he gets his from.

"Alessandro, how I've missed you!" she exclaims, covering his face in kisses and holding him tightly. He giggles at her, and in that moment, he looks like a happy and well-loved child. "Is this her, Alessandro? The one you've been looking for?" It shifts all the attention toward you, still perched on your dappled horse.

"Sì, Mamma, this is my love," Terzo turns, making his way over to assist you to the ground. He holds your hands, looking into your eyes to make sure you're not overwhelmed. All he finds there is happiness. He brings you over and introduces you by name and title, "Amore, this is mia mamma, Felìcita."

"Buonasera, è un piacere incontrarti," (Good evening, it's a pleasure to meet you,) you greet her just like you'd practiced, wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah, ragazza dolce, mio figlio taught you well, didn't he?" she replies with a laugh and a kiss on each cheek. "Did he give you this haircut, too?" She holds a couple of uneven strands between her fingers. You just laugh and nod. "Ah, don't worry, cara, we'll get you all cleaned up here." Her smile is so inviting and her conversation so charming, you see the influence she's has on Alé.

"Bella mia?" Terzo pulls you from your thoughts, "I'd like you to meet my ghouls."

"Ghouls?" you repeat.

"Sì, Alpha," he gestures to the one on his left. "And Omega," he pats the shoulder of the one on his right.

You're not sure how you'll ever tell them apart. "Nice to meet you both," you hold out a hand for either one to shake. Alpha takes you up on the offer, immediately pulling you close, taking you by surprise. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck and a strong appendage wraps tightly around you: a tail. Trying to keep your face as unreadable as possible while you take in his inhuman features, you start to hear a soft purring next to your ear.

"Alpha, scendi! You'll scare her," Terzo commands.

"Alé, it's okay," you tell him, wrapping your arms around the large man's waist, which only increases the noises coming from him.

"Alé?" Omega chucks, elbowing your lover.

"Stai zitto, demone!" (Shut up, demon!) he hisses in return. Their dynamic is pretty funny.

Alpha pulls away from your hug cheery eyed as he quietly tells you, "Il bambino è al caldo e al sicuro." (The baby is warm and safe.)

"Bambino?!" Terzo nearly shouts.

"Si, signore, she carries your child," Alpha tells him.

"Tesoro?" your lover's eyebrows immediately turn upward at the realization, "Did you suspect this?"

"I just- I thought I was only tired from being on horseback so much… I had no idea," you explain, feeling like you need to sit down.

As if reading your mind, Alessandro is there to support you. "Amore…" He gently places his hand on your stomach, "You will make una bella mamma!" Nuzzling your nose, as had become a consistent thing from him, tears prick at his eyes.

"Mi scusi, but if this is the case," Felìcita addresses you, "we should get you inside for a warm meal, sì? I won't have mio nipote go hungry!"

• •

You'd pretty much spent the last 36 hours sleeping… and eating, of course. Italian hospitality dictates that you will not go hungry. Cracking your eyes open just long enough to wiggle under your lover's arm and lay your head on his chest, you nestle right back in to go to sleep.

Terzo groans dramatically and grumbles, "Amore, we can't sleep forever, as good as it feels…"

You had been fortunate enough to be mostly left alone since you'd arrived at the Abbey, and you'd both used the time to rest after such a hard expedition into Italy, especially you and the baby.

"How did Alpha know?" you ask, eyes still closed as you listen to the man's heartbeat.

"The ghouls, they… they feel things. Almost like they're connected to those around them." His fingers trace shapes across your scalp, only serving to push you further back into your slumber.

But curiosity gets the best of you again, as you sit up, leaning over your lover. "Like the emerald you gave me? How it makes me feel what you feel?"

He smiles, "Sì, but the ghouls are much more… sensitive. Hence why I couldn't tell you are pregnant, despite the pendant."

"So you 𝘥𝘪𝘥 do something to it!" you accuse him, proud for finally cracking it.

He chuckles at your little game, "Sì, how else was I suppose to lure you in?" His hand in your hair pulls you down for a kiss.

"Perhaps with the endless thoughts I had of you every day after you kissed me," you drag a finger down his bare chest. "Although that was something entirely out of your control," you wink at him.

"Sì, well, I do like to keep you under my control, cara mia," his morning voice growls in your ear.

"Oh, are you going to put me under another spell, lover?" you giggle, playing with his chest hair.

"Mmm, one where the only word to fall off your lips is my name…" Terzo sits up, flipping you onto your back and pinning your hands above your head.

"Which one?" you playfully rebut.

"I'll allow you to decide this," it's his turn to wink as his lips find your jaw, working on all the sweet spots he knows so well.

"Mmm… Terzo," you sigh into his touch.

His hands snake under your nightgown, leaving your hands resting above your head. "Is that the one you choose, cara?" Resting his fingers on your panties, he starts to rub against your bundle of nerves.

You feign thinking about it as you writhe against his hand. "Oh no… I might pick another," you tease.

He leaves a sizable love bite at your collarbone, sucking his mark into your skin while his fingers dip beneath the fabric impeding them. His hard cock, unfortunately concealed by his sleeping pants, presses against your thigh, so you gently move your leg back and forth to offer him some relief. Before long, evidence of his lust seeps though the thin fabric.

"Dolcezza…" he whispers right in your ear before nibbling on it as well, eliciting a moan from you. One of his fingers moves further down to hint at your entrance.

You inhale sharply, "Please, Alé," you whine.

"Alé? Or will it be Alessandro?" he flirts, allowing that digit to slip into you, making quick work of curling it to find your other sweet spot.

"Mmm…" you knit your eyebrows together, "mm- I- please."

"Please what, mia dea?" He adds another finger. "You must decide on a name for me, since you insist I have too many…"

"Please," you struggle against his ministrations, especially when his free hand comes to tease at you nipple. "Please… Papa."

His eyebrows perk up at that one, and his hands pause for a moment, almost imperceptibly. "Tesoro, I am not Papa yet," he scoffs.

"You will be one day, no?" Now it's your turn to give him the devious look he normally has in his eye. "Plus… You'll be Papa to this little one very soon," you gesture by rubbing your belly just above where his hands work on you.

With that, all his restraint is lost, obvious in the way he pounces back on top of you, attacking your mouth with his and ripping your undergarments from your flesh. "Allow me to remind you how I put il mio piccolo inside you, then," he growls, pushing his own pants down to his knees before hiking your legs up around his waist.

Your hands finally move to claw at his back with him now on top of you. Feeling his length being slicked up in your folds, he gives no warning before pushing in right to the hilt. The scream it drags from you could probably wake the dead!

"Say it again," your lover commands darkly before snapping his hips into you again.

"P-uhh…" is all you manage.

Sitting up, his fingers harshly grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Say it. Again." This time through gritted teeth.

"Papa! Please, fuck me Papa!" you beg.

"Brava ragazza," he praises you. "Now, legs up here," he taps his collarbones, giving you little time before he's hoisting them up himself, hooking your knees on his shoulders. Falling back on top of you, you feel absolutely folded in half as his cock presses deep against your walls.

"Oh, Papa!" you whimper, feeling his tip drag against that sweet spot.

He places his weight on his elbows, fingers tangling in your hair, and he aligns his knees on either side of your hips. Carefully at first, he lifts his hips before dropping back down into you. When it earns a gasp from you, he does it again, and again, falling into a dangerous rhythm.

You whine and moan for him over and over again, having to fight back your climax already as he attacks your most sensitive spot. Fingernails scratch at his sides as he pounds into you, and you try to keep your knees from knocking against your head.

"Bellissima, cara mia, you take il mio cazzo so well…" he grunts out, already getting close as well. "Sei bellissima sotto di me." (You look beautiful underneath me.) The soft kiss he presses to your lips is a sharp juxtaposition to his ministrations.

Your urge your heels into his back, opening your mouth for more, and he doesn't disappoint as his tongue does its familiar dance with yours. "P-Papa…" you break the kiss, "I'm, I'm-"

"Vieni per me, principessa, vieni sul mio cazzo," he allows you your release; gently his hand squeezes at your airway as his hips roughly snap into your tight wet heat.

The lack of air only serves to heighten your pleasure as your orgasm rolls through you, causing your legs to shake thunderously beneath his weight. "PAPA!" you scream his soon-to-be title endlessly, the spell he joked about earlier coming true.

Holding off just long enough to work you through your climax, he thrusts into you one last time and you feel Terzo's cock kick, spilling his seed inside you. "Satanas, amore… Ti amo… Amo la tua figa," (Satanas, love… I love you… I love your pussy.) he huffs out, still pressing into you as you both come down from your high.

You share a laugh at his lewd comment, and he bumps his nose against yours before sitting up and slipping out of you before carefully helping to unfold your legs. Climbing over you once again, his thumbs massage your hips, wanting to help release any tension there. "How's that, cara?"

"Mm, feels good, Papa, thank you," you relax under his touch, eyes fluttering closed.

"Bene," he giggles, "you don't have to call me Papa anymore, tesoro."

"What if I like it?" you smirk.

"Then you may call me what you like," he says, magic fingers still working your tense muscles. "But maybe not in front of miei fratelli… It could make them feel jealous." He gives you a little wink.

• •

What would've under most circumstances been a stressful day, was actually pretty easy going. Being with your lover had a way of keeping you calm and content, even as you met the rest of his family and the upper clergy members.

It was lunch with his brothers, Primo and Secondo, and father, Nihil. You felt it odd that his mother was left out, but that would be a conversation for later. The rest of the afternoon was filled with meetings, some being introductions and others were to discuss preparing you for your Prime Mover ritual. There would be a lot to learn, but you feel confident with Alessandro by your side.

"Amore," he catches your attention with a kiss to the cheek. You're back in his chambers getting ready for Mass tonight; Secondo would be leading it, and it's your first one, so you're nervous but excited. "I regret to have to leave you alone while I go dress for Mass tonight, will you be alright without me? Of course, you'll have Sister Beth here to help with anything you could need."

"I'll be fine, my love. Besides, I'm not really alone, am I?" You place his hand on your belly and nod towards the Sister diligently waiting to assist you. "I'll see you in the chapel," you give his hand a squeeze and his nose a kiss.

After your lover dismisses himself, Beth is very patient in helping you get ready and answering any questions that come mind about tonight's mass. She's not unlike your handmaiden back home.

𝘏𝘰𝘮𝘦.

You hadn't really allowed yourself to think about the place you grew up in. It wasn't exactly home anymore…

"Are you alright, Miss?" Beth rips you from your reminiscing.

Quickly peeking in the looking glass and wiping away tears, you respond, "Yes! Yes, I'm fine, Beth. Thank you for asking." You hope the panic isn't obvious on your face.

"Of course, Miss." She nods knowingly and goes back to styling your hair, twisting and smoothing the strands expertly.

"Beth…" It escapes you before you can stop it.

"Yes, Miss?" She glances at your reflection, continuing her work.

"Do you enjoy it here? You weren't raised here, were you? I mean- My apologies, Beth. I've overstepped." You internally cringe at how your curiousity leaps all boundaries.

"It's quite alright, milady," she softly reassures you, "Must be nerve-wracking coming to a new place, and being plopped in a high up position at that. I was nervous too when I arrived on the front stoop. This is the only place I've felt fully accepted as I am, imperfections and all." She has a sense of pride on her face. "Be honest and true to yourself and everyone here will have no choice but to accept you. Surely, since you were charming enough to catch the eye of Cavaliere Terzo."

"Cavaliere?" you question.

"Oh yes, he's so sought after here at the Abbey. I should prepare you by saying that nearly all the Siblings get a little weak in the knees in his presence."

The idea of everyone having their little flirtations with your lover doesn't bother you… But 𝘊𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯… 𝘋𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?

"I'm sorry, Miss, if I've upset you. I just thought it better that you know how everyone will act around him," Beth softly apologizes.

"No, no, it's not you. Or the wandering eyes. What does Cavaliere mean?"

"Oh! Just that he's a knight. One of our finest, actually. Great on horseback, and you should see him with a sword, Miss! He's very skilled at taking down his opponents during practices and tournaments."

"Oh my… He's never mentioned it to me," you ponder, baffled at this news.

"Well, of course! How else would he have survived so long traveling through the mountains and Satan knows where else?" She sounds so chipper; she must have a small crush on him too.

"And how long was he gone? I've only been traveling with him for just over a fortnight," maybe now you're prying.

"Nearly a year, Miss." Beth smiles, placing an ornate clip in your hair. "Finished! How do you like it?"

"It's bellissima, Beth. Thank you," you nod at her, appreciating her hard work.

"Already getting comfortable with Italian? The family will like that," she reassures you with a pat on the shoulder, before exiting to the bedroom to prepare your gown for this evening.

Staring into the looking glass, head reeling from all the new information, you think about Alessandro's letter from his mother.

𝘈 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳? 𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦?

The realization makes you feel almost insignificant, like there is a much bigger power at work here, but simultaneously makes you feel very special. Thinking on the way he didn't want you to feel trapped coming here, his mother not wanting him to come back until he found love, the sins he committed to get you here safely… It puts things in a different perspective, like all the puzzle pieces are starting to fit together. You know you've made the right choice with him and that you weren't just swept up in your feelings.

𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘴… 𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

• •

The grand halls surrounding the the chapel are absolutely packed as everyone greets one another, waiting for sunset. Beth stays right by your side, not wanting you to get lost in the sea of people; you had no idea this many people could even fit in this place.

"Ah, Sorella, buonasera," you hear a soft voice over your shoulder: Primo.

Secondo follows with, "How are you and il piccolo, doing?" Despite his gruff nature, you're quickly learning he's really a big softie, especially towards beautiful women and babies. You aren't even that far along, but everyone in the family seems so excited about the prospect of another little one.

"We're doing well, thank you both," you greet them offering them both a kiss on the cheek, careful not to mess up their papal paints. It's an unconventional look for certain, but their full formal regalia indeed commands the respect they deserve.

The two dismiss themselves into the chapel, leaving everyone else outside to wait for the doors to open.

"Where do you think Terzo is?" you nudge Beth lightly.

"Oh, he's over there, Miss," she points to a particularly dense crowd of people.

𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴.

The girl seems to nervously fidget with her habit, eagerly watching the scene before her intently.

"Do you want to go see him, too?" you smile at her, and she replies with a shy nod. "It's alright, go ahead," you smile your approval.

As your handmaiden slips into the gathering, you giggle to yourself, thinking about how he must really get slowed down trying to go anywhere. From your spot by the chapel doors, you see that familiar mop of hair, but notice that he stands a little taller, chest puffed out a bit more. Seeing the ornate black and gold pauldron on his shoulder gives you a hint of his knightly attire.

Silently observing as people shake his hand, offer him hugs and even hand them their babies, it's not unlike watching a soldier who's come home from war to be greeted by those that care for him. However, when he notices Beth standing near him, his head turns, looking around for you. His face is covered in a stark black and white skeleton designs, similar to his brothers. If it weren't for the way his eyes wandered your body upon spotting you, you almost wouldn't have recognized him.

In an effort to politely slip away from his devoted flock, he kisses a few ladies' knuckles, and bids them farewell for now, turning all his attention towards you leaning against the wall, patiently waiting.

Drinking in his finely crafted artisan armor as he ambles over, you give him a wink, appreciating this new look on him. The black of his armor ties in well with his face paint and dark locks, while the gold only serves to make him stand out amongst everyone else.

"Mm, amore," he grunts, taking your hand. "You look assolutamente divino in this gown. Violet is a favorite of mine, especially seeing it on you, dolcezza." He lifts your chin with his fingers, gracing his thumb over your lower lip.

"You never told me you are a knight, 𝘊𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘦𝘳𝘻𝘰…" you feign irritation at him.

"Aye, some things must remain a surprise, sì?" Clearly being back home and returning to his high position has given him a whole new air of confidence.

"I worry to see what other 'surprises' you have in mind, caro," you giggle.

He wraps an arm around the small of your back, the hard metal firmly pressing against your skin, and pulls you in for a what feels like an inappropriate kiss to share in front of the whole congregation.

Luckily, the doors to the chapel open, saving you from any further public displays with your partner; you were already receiving some looks from a few of the Sisters just for kissing him.

"Ready for your first Black Mass, principessa?" Alessandro offers you his elbow, guiding you to the front pew to sit alongside him and his mother, who gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

After this, you know there will be no turning back. Your old life is nothing but a memory now.

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time

Day 29: Overcome (Edging)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Spy x Male!Reader

Summary: Five thousand words of Spy just wrecking the reader.

Tags: Edging, dirty talk, degradation, lube, dom/sub, teasing, oral

Word Count: 5.1k

The Masterlist

You couldn’t quell the sense of apprehension that you felt as you approached Spy’s private quarters. You knew he probably wanted to go over the day's battle- which inevitably devolved into listing each and every misstep you had made. You would be lying if you said it wasn’t a bit discouraging, especially since this had become a near weekly routine.

Perhaps it would be easier if he wasn’t so damn attractive. Spy was a handsome man, even with the mask, you could tell. You wanted to impress him. Unfortunately your attempts to do so often led to the previously mentioned missteps. In your opinion, he could probably be qualified as a workplace hazard with how often he distracted you on the job. Then again, as a mercenary, workplace hazards were pretty much in the job description.

Today you were especially distracted, most likely because your little infatuation was getting worse. You had practically walked right into enemy fire. The fact that Spy had seen it all made you want to die, but then again, respawn would probably just bring you back to face your embarrassment head on.

Well, there was no point in stalling. With a resigned sigh, you entered the room. It was always more organized than you expected. It was definitely tidier than yours, and probably cleaner and more well furnished than any of the other mercenaries’ rooms. The scent of smoke was evident, but not suffocating. Spy was seated on the edge of his bed, and you startled a bit when his eyes met yours.

He wasn’t wearing his mask. You had seen glimpses of Spy without the balaclava before, but they were few and far between. More often than not it was with stolen glances in the showers, which you tried to keep as subtle as possible. You had certainly never had the chance to see him up close like this before. You shook your head, trying to regain some focus.

“You wanted to see me?” You asked, trying not to make it obvious that you were staring. He had the faintest bit of stubble on his face, and you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to feel it, to simply brush your hand against his cheek. “Look, I know I was really off my game today. I promise I’ll do better next time-”

“That is not what I wanted to discuss, my dear.” Spy cut you off. You were actually thankful to be interrupted, as you knew you would just start rambling if you went on.

“It’s not?” You asked, tilting your head to the side curiously.

“Non, at least, not entirely,” he explained. “It is obvious that you’re quite distracted on the battlefield as of late. I know you have potential. You can improve, yet you make foolish mistakes and take unnecessary risks, and I think I know why.”

“Oh? And why is that?” You asked, feigning interest. It almost sounded as if he was about to give you some half-assed inspirational speech. You couldn’t suppress a smile at the thought of that, almost laughing at the idea of Spy of all people giving a pep talk.

“You have been trying to impress me.”

Your smile dropped as soon as it appeared. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Excuse me?” You tried to stay nonchalant. You must have heard him wrong. You couldn’t possibly be that easy to read, could you?

“You have been trying to impress me,” he repeated, just as clearly as the first time. “You’ve wanted my attention for some time now.”

Your mind was racing as you tried to find a way out of this. Maybe you could still play dumb? You tried to maintain a poker face- which may have worked if it weren’t for the fact that you had never won a poker game in your life.

“It’s not what you think-”

“And before you try to deny it, I’ll have you know that I keep a close eye on everyone in the base.” Spy said, cutting off what would have been a futile attempt at damage control. “I’ve seen you sneaking glances in the showers and the way your face glows red when you notice me watching you on the battlefield. It would be ineffective to lie to me.”

You clenched your jaw in defeat. He was right, and you were irritated that you hadn’t hidden it better. Then again, he was a spy. You should have known you would be figured out eventually. It was frustrating to be read like an open book. But the most frustrating thing by far was that even now, as he called you out like this, you still found him so damn hot.

You were also quite preoccupied with the imminent hard on you were trying not to think about. That was a concern for later, when you were by yourself.

“So what are you trying to say, Spy?” You asked, defeat evident in your voice. “What is this about? Did you just want to humiliate me?”

“I would never, chéri.” Spy looked offended, hurt even, at the idea that you would ask such a question. “What I’m trying to say is, I know what you want, and I am more than willing to give it to you. That is, if you are willing to listen and obey.”

The sense of vulnerability you had been feeling since you entered Spy’s room threatened to boil over. You felt seen. Spy knew that he could have you shuddering beneath his gaze and going weak at the sound of his voice if he tried hard enough. Even now, your head spun at the prospect of what you were being offered, breath quickening and inhaling an intoxicating blend of expensive cigarettes and cologne which permeated the air.

“What would you like me to do?” You asked, cautious, perhaps even a bit hesitant, but willing.

Spy paused, thinking for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to submit with such ease. The way he looked at you made you shiver. His eyes were narrowed and focused, like an animal stalking prey.

“I would like you to undress,” he said, finally breaking the silence. You breathed a shaky sigh. You knew that this would likely end with you naked, but you hadn’t expected it to be so immediate, nor did you expect to be commanded to strip in such a matter-of-fact way.

Steeling your nerves, you pulled off your shirt and pants, trying to look as alluring as possible as you did so. Based on the way Spy chuckled, you guessed that your efforts came off as more cute than handsome, but at least it was endearing anyway.

“All the way, darling,” he said when you were nearly done, motioning towards the briefs you had neglected to remove.

You hesitated, realizing for a moment how much power you had given Spy, and even though you could revoke that power at any moment, it still made you nervous. Perhaps that was part of the appeal. You put on a brave face, hooking your fingers into the waistband and dropping the final garment to the floor along with your other clothes.

The way Spy looked you up and down made you feel like some kind of exotic animal, paraded around for his viewing pleasure. It should have felt demeaning, but under his gaze all you felt was excitement. And of course, now that you were naked, there was no way for you to hide the physical evidence of that excitement, save for holding your hands strategically in front of yourself, which was exactly what you opted to do.

“Very nice. Now come here,” Spy finally spoke after what felt like an eternity of simply staring at you. In reality, it had probably lasted for only a few moments, but you were still happy to finally be proceeding. You approached Spy, and he stood for the first time since you entered his room. Still, he looked perfectly relaxed. It was the posture of someone who knew they were in control, who knew they were perfectly capable of drawing you in and bending you to their will.

You gasped softly when he took hold of your wrists, pulling your hands away from where they futilely tried to hide your arousal. You were fully hard at this point, and you hoped that the smirk that spread across Spy’s lips was a sign that he was impressed with what he saw. Silence fell over the two of you again, and again it felt like forever before he finally responded.

“You are quite a sight, mon ange,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I want to touch every inch of you.”

You let him do just that, shuddering as he ran his hands down your sides. The unmistakable texture of leather gloves traced the curvature and edges of your body. His gaze seemed to burn, intense and focused, as if he was looking through you, seeing your every layer, perceiving the deepest details of your being. It took every bit of will you had not to cover yourself again.

For a while you watched his hands to distract yourself from your nervousness. As they traveled over your flesh your eyes followed them. That worked until he brought one of those wandering hands to your chin, tilting your head upward so that you met his eyes. They were alight with lust and something you couldn’t quite place. You didn’t have time to ponder it though, as he leaned in and caught you in a kiss.

You wasted no time kissing back, but it was clumsy, especially compared to Spy’s more experienced movements. His tongue slid against your lips in a silent request for entrance that you gladly gave in to. He explored your mouth skillfully, gradually deepening the kiss. The two of you parted for breath in intervals of only a few seconds before setting upon each other again, rough, needy, and hungry for more.

You didn’t even notice that you were being carefully guided to the bed. Only when Spy pulled away fully did you realize that you were seated on the mattress, gently being pushed backwards.

“Lay back, darling. Relax,” Spy said, grinning as he climbed atop you. Before you could say a word he was pressing his lips against you, from your mouth to your neck and then lower still. You arched up against him, shivering at the feeling of the expensive fabric of his suit against your bare skin.

“Spy, please! Fuck me!” You begged, reaching up and pulling at the lapels in an attempt to get his attention.

“Not yet.” Spy calmly removed your hands, freeing himself from your grasp, which had managed to wrinkle his suit slightly.

He didn't seem to mind, as he immediately proceeded to make his way down your body, kissing over every inch of your skin. You shivered when his touch ghosted over your chest and stomach, growing impatient with the slow pace Spy was taking.

“What are you doing?” You asked, slightly annoyed, although most of that annoyance was smothered by the breathy sound of your voice which you just couldn’t keep steady. You didn’t get an answer, instead feeling the sensation of Spy’s hand gripping your cock without warning. A gasp tore from your throat and looked down, meeting his gaze. He simply glanced back up at you, eyes narrowed deviously.

“I want to taste you.” It was a simple enough statement, and Spy’s desire was evident in the lowering of his voice, an almost growl-like sound permeating his words. It made your breath quicken, and the sensation of his tongue lapping along the underside of your cock certainly didn’t help. You shuddered and tried to hold back any embarrassing sounds with little success. Of course, Spy commented on the strength of your reactions. “So sensitive…”

That was the last thing you heard him say before he took you completely into his mouth. You had to struggle not to immediately buck into that wet warmth. Luckily, Spy held a surprisingly strong grip on your hips to help keep you still. Brief moments of eye contact passed between the two of you as he watched your every response to his actions. You were sure he would be grinning if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied.

Seeing Spy perform such debaucherous acts while still dressed to the nines added a certain charm to the experience. Even his gloves were still on, and you felt the leather against your skin every time Spy squeezed your hips in warning, keeping you from thrusting into his mouth. The feeling of the material made you curse under your breath. You had always had a thing for gloves, and it figured that your little kink would rear its head mid-blow job with the man you had been not-so-subtly lusting after since the first day you joined this team.

Your train of thought was cut short as Spy’s tongue slid over the head, lapping at the precum beading there. He was surprisingly skilled with that mouth of his, better than you had expected, and you were already embarrassingly close to coming.

“Spy! Fuck, I’m close!” You moaned, just barely able to warn him before the point of no return. Spy stopped sucking, as you expected, but to your dismay, he didn’t proceed to stroke you to completion. It was especially unfortunate given that the thought of those gloves on such a sensitive area was something you very much wanted to make a reality.

Spy was kissing you again before you had the chance to complain. You gasped in surprise and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Your thoughts went foggy as you tasted yourself on his tongue. His hands started wandering again, eventually running over your chest, brushing against your nipples as they went. You pulled away with a moan, breaking the kiss and causing Spy to look down at you curiously. He ran a thumb over one of your nipples, placing focus on that area briefly before sliding his hand down your side again. This was met with a similar reaction, and a devious grin spread across Spy’s face.

“You like these, don’t you?” Spy asked, raising a gloved hand and flexing his fingers.

“Maybe…” you whispered, not willing to raise your voice any more than you absolutely had to. The way Spy was looking at you was wolf-like, and it made you feel small, like you were completely at his mercy.

“You like the feeling of my gloves against your skin.” This time it was spoken as a statement, clear and precise. “You like it when the leather brushes against you, when I caress you, when I stroke you like this .”

You jolted when you felt Spy’s hand wrap around your cock. The moan you let out was embarrassingly loud, and he hadn’t even moved yet. Spy stifled a laugh, albeit not very well. Of course, you didn't exactly have the time to be self-conscious once he began stroking you.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as he settled into an agonizingly slow pace.

“That feels quite nice doesn’t it? The leather rubbing against your most sensitive areas, bringing you closer and closer to climax.” Spy’s breath tickled your ear as he leaned in to whisper to you. “Tell me when you’re about to come. I don’t want this to end just yet.”

Honestly, you were lucky you didn’t come right then and there. Somehow you held back, managing to save yourself from even more humiliation. You tried to get ahold of yourself, taking deep breaths and trying to focus on anything other than how good Spy was making you feel.

The leather added an extra element of friction that you found immensely gratifying. The gradual pace at which Spy stroked you kept you right on edge, seeming to extend the pleasure indefinitely. It was when he began to stroke his thumb over the head that you began to lose control.

“Spy!” You stammered, unable to choke out any further warning. Luckily, Spy seemed to get the message, recognizing how your voice shifted in tone and volume when you were about to finish. He ceased his movements, leaving you trembling, any sense of satisfaction having been delayed once again.

“Hands up, against the headboard,” Spy ordered. You obeyed, and before you could get a word out, he had removed his tie and used it to bind your wrists to the bed frame. You glared at him, rapidly losing your patience being teased.

“Oh, don’t pout, mon chéri. We can’t have you touching yourself, can we?” He said, dragging a finger along the underside of your cock.

“Please, get on with it!” You sounded ruder than you meant to, but Spy was pushing you to your limit. If your mind wasn’t so clouded with lust, you might have been a bit embarrassed at the fact that a little edging was all it took to make you come undone. Spy simply shook his head, looking at you the way one might look at a disobedient pet.

“So impatient. Have you still not learned who is in charge here?” Spy asked. You continued to glare at him, and he met your eyes with an equally intense look. “And such a willful expression. Perhaps I haven’t broken you enough. I could always keep you like this, darling.”

You tried to suppress a shudder as his fingers traced down your stomach, down to the base of your cock, before abruptly changing their course to stroke over your thighs. They remained there, so very close to where you longed to be touched. It left you quivering with need.

“I could repeat this pattern of teasing you to the brink for as long as I need too. I am a very patient man,” Spy continued. “And when I finally let you come, what makes you think I’ll stop there? I could keep going, stroking you, working you up again, watching you cry out from the overstimulation, reducing you to a sensitive, writhing little whore. I could have you screaming for me if I wanted to. So tell me, are we going to do this the hard way, or are you going to be a good boy for me?”

Spy’s words had you suddenly much more hesitant to misbehave.“I will,” you said, realizing that submitting was the only way to get what you wanted.

“You will what, mon cher?” Spy pressed on. Your face flushed, and through gritted teeth, you conceded.

“I’ll be a good boy.”

“There, that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?” Spy said, cupping one of your reddened cheeks. The embarrassment was almost worth it to see the way Spy smiled at you. “Now, just sit back and relax, my love.”

You did as you were told, leaning back on the pillows as best as you could with your hands still bound above your head. Spy stood up from the bed, only to begin stripping for you. He hit the perfect balance between teasing and nonchalant as he shucked off his jacket and pants. ‘Sitting back and relaxing’ became especially difficult when he decided to unbutton his dress shirt at a snail’s pace, but eventually that too fell to the floor along with the rest of his discarded clothing. Finally, in contrast to everything else, the briefs were removed relatively quickly.

Your breathing hastened as you drank in the sight of him. There was no shame in staring for as long as you wanted here, unlike in the showers, where you were limited to sneaking quick glances. He was gorgeous, and despite his slim build, he managed to make you feel small in comparison to him. This wasn’t helped by the fact that he immediately returned to the bed by climbing on top of you and taking his sweet time looming over your shivering, restrained body with a look of immense satisfaction.

“You look quite nice beneath me like this,” he said, smirking at how you squirmed for him. Spy had clearly received the reaction he was looking for from you. You were right where he wanted you, and you prayed that now that he had his fun, he would finally have mercy on you.

“Please…” you muttered, growing more impatient by the moment. You pulled against the tie, but it held up surprisingly well against your struggles.

”Je sais, you’re desperate to come, aren’t you?” Spy teased, cupping your cheek and pressing his lips against yours in a brief kiss. “Do you want me to take you here and now, my dear?”

“Yes yes yes, please! Please fuck me!” Any shame you had left was abandoned. You were positively aching to be fucked, and you threw all of your effort into begging for it without hesitation.

Your pleas were met with a low chuckle from Spy, who proceeded to roll off of you, ignoring the way you whined as he did so. For a brief moment, you thought he was going to leave you desperate once again, but you quickly fell silent as you watched him retrieve a bottle of lube from the drawer of his bedside table. It figured that he would have something like that handy at a moment’s notice. He returned to you, kneeling between your legs.

“Have you done this before?” He asked, his gaze softening as he looked you over.

“Not like this,” you admitted hesitantly, trying to suppress the nervousness that was beginning to build. “But I do want it, I want it so badly, Spy.”

“I don’t doubt that, but you will need to show just a little more patience,” Spy said with a small, genuine laugh, the sound of which helped to dissipate your anxiety. Still, you gasped when you felt his fingers begin to circle your entrance. “Soon, I’ll make you feel good. I’ll make you come, mon amour.”

He paused to apply some of the lube to his fingers, and you whimpered softly as he pushed a single digit into you. You tried to relax for him, focusing on how good it felt to finally have something within you. Spy hummed in approval, being able to thrust a second finger into you just a few minutes later.

You took to the sensation quite nicely. By the time he added a third, he was starting to curl his fingers within you. You moaned aloud, all apprehension gone as you begged him to fuck you already.

“You’re doing very well, darling,” Spy said, removing his fingers. You couldn’t help but squirm at the feeling of emptiness, even though you knew you would soon be getting exactly what you had been pleading for.

Spy poured some more lube into his palm and you watched eagerly as he stroked his cock with it. He leaned over you, meeting your eyes for a moment, silently asking for permission to proceed. You nodded, and his gaze became more intense as he entered you slowly.

Despite all the preparation, you instinctively tensed up. You knew it would feel good eventually, but in the moment it was more than a little awkward. Spy paused, allowing you to adjust at your own pace. The moment he saw any signs of discomfort he leaned down to kiss along your neck. His hands ran down your sides, feather light touches allowing you to relax into his surprisingly gentle touch.

“Mon dieu, you feel amazing,” Spy moaned, beginning to thrust into you shallowly and cautiously, giving you time to get used to the strange new feeling. You shuddered beneath him, hands clenched in tight fists against the headboard. However, you soon found yourself easing into the sensation, moaning freely as pleasure began to replace any discomfort.

“Such a noisy little thing, aren’t you?” Spy chuckled.

“I can’t help it, it feels so good,” you gasped, trying in vain to be quieter. Spy looked down at you with a devious smirk, clearly intent on making you moan even louder by the time he was done with you.

“We’ve barely begun, mon cher.” He leaned down to catch you in a kiss, going slowly and passionately in contrast to the rough and hungry kisses you had shared at the start of this little tryst. “I am going to go faster now, is that alright?”

“Yes, please! ”

“Perfect. Let me show you just how good I can make you feel.” Spy sped up, and you immediately found that you weren’t prepared for what he had to offer you. Of course, you enjoyed it all the same. Being fucked like this was so new, so overwhelming, and it made your head spin. Yet it was all so intoxicating at the same time, almost addictive.

As for Spy, he certainly wasn’t quiet either. He moaned as he thrust into you, clutching the bedsheets in tight fists, panting, groaning. He made no secret of just how good he was feeling. Even so, you were quite a bit louder. Right when you thought it couldn’t possibly get better, a change of angle had you reeling, mouth agape in a silent scream until you managed to regain the ability to make noise with a gasp and a full body shudder. Spy took note of your reaction immediately.

“Right there?” He asked, grinding against your prostate and seeming very pleased when he got an even stronger response from you. “Oh yes, that is a very good spot, isn’t it?”

You nodded, feeling as if you had gone completely boneless. Spy thrust into you again, this time stopping just short of your sweet spot. You squirmed and tried to buck your hips, but he held you still.

“Spy, I’m so close!” You cried, squirming futilely against his deceptively strong hold.

“Beg.”

It was a short yet clear command. You were so aroused it was almost painful, and you certainly weren’t about to risk another round of denial.

“Please, please fuck me!” You pleaded. “I need you to fuck me!”

“Is that the best you can do, mon amour?” Spy clearly wasn’t impressed with your efforts. You writhed and tried to thrust yourself onto his cock, but the hold on your hips was unyielding, and the tie around your wrists didn’t help your lack of mobility. That left you with no other choice but to throw away the last bit of dignity you had. Not that you had a problem with that.

“I need to come! I need you to let me, please Spy, please make me come!” You threw yourself wholeheartedly into begging. Most of your efforts became strangled groans, but the few coherent words you managed seemed to satisfy Spy. He had successfully made a pitiful, moaning mess of you, and more importantly, you had enjoyed every moment of it.

You heard him chuckle and begin to pull away, and for a bewildering moment, you thought you were being denied once again- and then he slammed back into you, much more roughly than you were expecting. Your mouth fell agape as Spy set a breakneck pace that you didn’t know he was capable of. You were vaguely aware of him whispering to you, praising you, muttering sweet nothings as you chased after the pleasure pooling low in your abdomen, threatening to overwhelm you at any moment.

Of course, you didn’t stand a chance the moment Spy located that especially sensitive spot within you once again. All it took was a few more well placed thrusts to have you coming undone on your own stomach and chest, your climax hitting you harder than you could have predicted. You jerked against the tie around your wrists, hips bucking upward as you practically screamed.

“Oui darling, that’s it, keep making those beautiful sounds for me!” Spy’s movements grew uneven, and his voice became strained as he chased his own orgasm, thrusting into you and sending sparks of overstimulation up your body until he went still and finished with a low groan.

With a heavy sigh, he fell to the side, and both of you were left panting like animals for several moments. You tugged against your restraints weakly, and with shaky hands, Spy reached up and untied you. You massaged your wrists and clenched your fists repeatedly to bring feeling back into them. The rush of blood back to your extremities left you with the sensation of pins and needles on your palms.

You laid on the bed for several moments, simply waiting until you caught your breath. Your heart was still racing. Unwittingly, you leaned your head against Spy’s shoulder. When he didn’t pull away, you elected to stay there.

“You did very well for your first time.” Spy brought a hand up to run through your hair. He didn’t sound nearly as out of breath as you were. You would have been a bit jealous of how composed he was compared to you, but the haze of euphoria hadn’t quite disappeared enough for you to feel anything more than mild annoyance. Plus, you couldn’t deny that the praise made your cheeks flush a little.

“That was really good,” you muttered, half to yourself, unsure of how to reply to Spy’s compliment. That bit of awkwardness was all it took for your mind to start racing. What happened now? Were you expected to leave? If not, then how long were you expected to stay?

Thankfully, before your train of thought could completely devolve, Spy answered several of those questions for you, by pulling you into his arms and tossing a blanket over the two of you. Apparently you were expected to stay for a while longer.

“Spy, the others will get suspicious if we’re missing for too long,” you warned, even though you weren’t really in a hurry to leave his embrace.

“Let them. I’m perfectly fine with letting everyone know that you’re mine. If they don’t already know, that is. You were quite loud,” he said with a smirk. You, on the other hand, went red and hid your face in your hands at the thought of anyone overhearing what had just occurred.

Spy chuckled, and you heard it as much as felt it, as you rested your head upon his chest. Even though he was teasing you, you found the soft vibration of his laughter comforting, closing your eyes with a soft smile.

You knew that eventually the two of you would have to get dressed and face the other mercenaries at dinner, but that was a problem for future you. Right now, you were content to stay beneath the covers, pressed against Spy’s body, basking in the afterglow. The only care you really had was how you would hide the telltale limp you would no doubt be walking with later.

[nerizys]

Yaya's Cookies, and how it affects Spirits - Boboiboy AU

Contains OCs, OOC

___________________________

A spirit's job is no easy task, or that's how it is nowadays since civilization came into the picture. Keeping balance, taking care of the planet... It's hard work. But that's why the spirits aren't bound by ordinary biological rules. They can easily shrug off radiation or poisoning.

So why did Yaya's cookies affect Taufan in such an adverse way?

Granted it was made with poisoned goat milk, but her cookies have proven themselves to be quite lethal even without the milk.

There are also certain exceptions to this, but he doesn't know why a spirit like Taufan would go manic while they didn't.

The spirit of light has a hypothesis in mind, but he can't confirm it just yet with so little data. Perhaps a few interviews are in order.

Ah, what boredom does to the mind.

________________________________

The first spirit that Solar contacted was Forte, the spirit of Fortification, the youngest known spirit, and works indirectly for TAPOPS

It was also known that she likes to spar with Yaya to practice her power and skill. Yaya was fond of the little spirit too, acting like an older sister to her (despite Forte being 528, not like he can criticize them).

"Hi Elder Solar! How are you?" Forte's face appeared on the tablet, she appears to be lying on her back, she must have been playing while waiting for Veronica.

Being the youngest, she had taken to calling the Elementals 'Elder', after learning they are the oldest living spirits as of now to annoy them.

"Hello Forte. I am fine, I simply have a few questions for you regarding Yaya's cookies"

"Oh... those.." Forte's face seem to droop a little. "What about them?"

"How did you feel when you ingested them?"

"That's it? Well, it was fine at first"

"At first?" Solar asked with a raised eyebrow

"You see..."

"Here, I made some cookies for you Forte" Yaya said, handing the little spirit a basket of cookies.

"Really? I can have them?" Forte asked as she looked at the adorably shaped cookies.

"Of course! Try one"

Forte picked out one of the cookies and tried taking a bite. It's weirdly hard, the taste reminds her of the wasteland days...

"How is it? I made it with a new recipe"

"Ummm, it's not bad, could use a little more flavor"

"I see. Thank you for the feedback" Yaya nods

"Ever since then, she kept handing me cookies, but they start to taste even worse somehow... There are times of improvement but very little" She sighs. It was dreadful.

Solar can only share his condolences for Forte's fate. At least she hasn't fainted from it or become manic.

"Anyways, I have a question for you too Elder!"

"What is it?"

"Can you help me figure out the fuel for this one piece of equipment? We're trying our best but it keeps blowing up. I can use my power so it doesn't get destroyed but everyone would rather have more permanent solution". Forte had picked up a fondness for weapons and many technologies, as they align well with her power, not so well with chemistry though.

Since he's bored. Why not?

"Send it's data over, I'll see what I can do"

"Thank you Elder! Also, Yaya decided to hand out her treats to engineers and mechanics that came to assist us a while ago. She handed a box of them to Remiel. He's an android so he should be fine. Not sure about Kanoa or Mr Esther though

"I see. I'll ask them"

"Wow. Elder Solar socializing? Oh wait, lemme guess. You're doing some kinda experiment aren't you?"

"It is just a test to pass the time" Solar simply stated the truth, he is definitely not slightly miffed about Forte poking fun at him.

"Sure sure whatever helps you sleep at night. Wait you even sleep-"

"Just send me the data"

It wasn't nothing Solar couldn't handle. He quickly found a way around the "spontaneous combustion".

_______________________________

"Hello Solar. How may I help you?" A polite voice had picked up the call. He knows who it is.

"Hello Remiel. I heard Yaya gave you a box of cookies"

Remiel, an android made by a spirit. Solar's quite curious about his functions. For a creation from 50000 years ago, his functions are quite advanced and mysterious.

Raziel knew what she was doing

"Yes. It was kind of her. I assume this isn't the only reason you called?"

"Correct. I am currently studying the reason why we spirits can't seem to handle them" He doesn't have that many options to be honest. Only 11 spirits are confirmed to exist. His brothers liked to keep in touch with the other spirits and Solar himself really had no complaints.

"If it's the results you are looking for... Kanoa is currently curled up in bed. She is recovering. Briar also had some, but he is alright from what I've observed"

"Thank you Remiel"

"You're welcome".

________________________________

"Greetings, Solar" A voice rang out in his mind before he could contact the next spirit he knows.

"Greetings to you too, Neira" Or Oneira if he goes by the name her master gave her. Although she initially introduced herself as the spirit of Dreams, her true identity is the Spirit of Sentience. As such, it allows her to tamper with the senses.

One of which being one-way telepathy.

Solar pressed call, and Neira's face showed up on the screen, smiling.

"I assume you had an experience with Yaya's confectioneries?"

"It's not exactly me per say, but I experience it through Nisha"

"Do elaborate"

Nisha stared at the adorable box of cookies Yaya had made, then at Yaya and Ying.

One's face was almost as bright as the sun in anticipation, the other looked at her with pity. Nisha knows why. She had heard rumors of the dreaded treats.

But she can't simply say no, not when the pink hijabi girl made it out of such good will. She can only hope it tastes good.

So she goes ahead and took a bite.

Shakily, she gives them an "Okay" hand signal.

"Of course, Nisha wasn't actually okay. It absolutely decimated her taste buds in a bad way, and I had to numb her tongue. Then she suffered from a stomachache later" Neira sighs.

"I... see" Solar sweatdropped. Nisha was still in medical care, rehabilitating her movement. 64 years in a cryopod can do that to a person.

"Before you end the call. I have something to tell you as a spirit that's very experienced with the senses"

"And that is?"

_______________________________

'With some input from Neira, the spirit of Sentience. I've confirmed my suspicion. We were simply vulnerable to the taste of the cookies, not the actual ingredients itself. It's both quite the relief and cause for concern'

[bosskie]

Practicing Molluck

Last night, I had an urge to draw Molluck with traditional art supplies since I have felt like drawing some traditional art for some days. This is basically a sketch practice thing again. I felt like drawing him from an 'unusual' perspective for practice reasons.

Last time I drew a pencil portrait of Molluck like this was about 2½ years ago:

I'm kinda just getting tired of drawing with a computer mouse and I feel like I enjoy doing traditional art the most, even I have done it rarely during the recent years. The main reason why I haven't done more traditional art is my self-hatred since I have felt like I'm just gonna waste those art supplies for drawing/painting some trash.

Man, I got so many art supplies to try out and it would be nice to have a challenge where I draw the same thing with different art supplies; I did such a thing in high school with five different supplies for the art course. Oh, and I really wanna do a Molluck statue to myself, like a lil golden bust, like the one on his blimp!

This is just such a nice little detail we can barely even see. I mean, I would love to take a much closer look at that bust!

But yeah, my point was that after all, I feel like I don't enjoy doing digital art so much. I used to like drawing with the mouse and that's the main reason why I have kept drawing with it but over the time I have just seen better and better how it restricts me and that's why I feel like I do draw better traditionally than digitally even I have drawn mainly digital stuff for a decade. Maybe one day I try out some proper digital art supplies but I don't know if it's truly my thing. I just feel like I can also draw more precisely when I do traditional stuff.

But yes, both medias have their own pros and cons but I do enjoy doing traditional art more. Man, sometimes I think about painting a huge portrait about Molluck... I bet that Molluck would love it too! I just kinda love it that Gluks love their own faces so much. And I also just would find it fun to paint a portrait and frame it like it was something that Molluck would have hanging on his wall. I just agree with him that he is such a beautiful Gluk and I just cannot get enough of him...

I have started yet another digital practice thing but not sure if I finish it, or I more like might redo it. It's quite a WIP to me but I can show an edited one:

I guess that you can get it why I chose those colours (It's the logo!). I know that some spots don't look right but it feels like it would be easier to draw this traditionally, so this is what I mean with redoing this. I also haven't used reference to this one like to the those pencil sketches since I kinda wanted to practice building 'a mental 3D model' of Molluck. Yeah, practicing drawing Molluck over and over again feels like precising my mental image of him. Drawing him both without and with a reference is a part of that.

Oh, and I remember loving drawing on a black paper with colour pencils, so I would like to draw something like this traditionally. I'm still not stopping digital stuff and I got some digital WIPs to finish but I would just like to focus more on traditional art. Just screw this self-hatred; I'm gonna use those art supplies!

I do hope that this 'art year' is gonna be better than the previous one. I really need to draw more to improve and get these ideas out of my head... Yeah, even I have been drawing mainly Molluck for 2½ years, I feel like I still have a lot to learn about drawing him.

[renaultphile]

That famous cut line (you know, the hand to knee moment)

@jeork @eclare1000 I had so many thoughts on this I thought I'd better start a new post......

***********************************

I do like the cuts too (including knee-touch), I feel it just improves the writing, or leaves a little bit of mystery, and I also kind of like that the 1953 edition is there like a crib where you can look to see if there is an extra line that helps to explain things.

I tend to think of Ralph’s conversation as quite pre-meditated at this stage.  Practically the first thing he does when they are looking at the view is mention public school.  If we are to believe him later, he is at first checking to see what Laurie remembers.  But I also think he does this thing of offering him something negative, as if to test him.  And then when Laurie says ‘Hazell’ he takes it as a question.  Then he’s on to the ‘vertical society’, then back to Hazell.  The words ‘full disclosure’ spring to mind.  But it’s hard to think he’s trying to put Laurie off.  It feels more to me like a sign that he is serious on some level and wants the relationship to be real.

As for the driving afterwards – is it the drink?  Could be, but in my experience most drivers are prone to delivering a ‘profane commentary’ without much provocation.  I don’t think we need the ‘hand on knee’ to explain his irritability, and I prefer it like this.  He’s opened up a lot, not sure how it’s been received, and I feel like he is simultaneously nervous about Laurie’s reaction and maybe just feeling a bit raw from reliving that experience.

But anyway, I love your idea that Laurie’s lack of experience becomes an extra draw and that feels very plausible.  But I don’t know, is it also a bit….creepy?  I wonder if that is why it feels as though Ralph seems quite anxious a lot of the time.  It does feel like he wants to give Laurie the perfect experience that he never had…….

[intheticklecloset]

Free! Coffee Shots #1-9

A collection of the Free! sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

1) Lee Rei, Lers Nagisa and Makoto

“Rei, you’re worrying too much—”

“No! I have to get the form perfect or it won’t be beautiful at all!” Rei sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, concentrating. “One more time.”

Makoto glanced at Haru and Nagisa, exchanging shrugs with them as their newest member dove into the water for the fifth time in a row, trying to perfect his form within just a few days of finally being able to swim without sinking. The brunette watched him worryingly. Rei’s form wasn’t the best, sure, but he was still brand new. He couldn’t expect perfection right away, even if he was…well, Rei.

The newcomer completed his swim and climbed out of the water, shaking stray drops from his eyes. “How was that?”

“Better!” Nagisa encouraged enthusiastically, jumping over to him, placing himself between Rei and the pool. “You’re doing great, Rei!”

“But is there room for improvement? Surely there must be.” Rei turned to Makoto. “Captain?”

Makoto sighed. “You’ve got to be patient. You won’t be perfect right away, you know. And Nagisa’s right – you’re improving every time.”

Rei frowned. “But there’s still more work to be done.”

“There’s always more work to be done,” Makoto replied evenly.

Nagisa glanced up at his friend, saw his disappointed features, and hugged him from behind, startling the taller boy. “Don’t worry, Rei. You’ll be swimming like a pro before you know it! Just don’t push yourself, okay?”

Rei remembered their training camp and let out a resigned sigh. “I won’t.”

“Cheer up!” Nagisa grinned, turning playful in an instant. He scribbled lightly over Rei’s sides. “You’re no fun when you’re grumpy.”

“Ah! I’m n-nohohohohot grumpy! Nagisahahaha!” Rei giggled, his frown instantly replaced with a bright smile. He squirmed in place, trying to wriggle away from his smaller friend’s grasp. “S-Stohohohop! Hey!”

Makoto soon found he was smiling as well, and before he knew it he’d joined Nagisa’s efforts, raking his nails across Rei’s ribs. Rei squealed and arched his back, nearly losing his footing due to the slippery surface surrounding the pool. He pushed at the both of them while still giggling steadily, pink tinging his cheeks.

“Hehehehehey! Bohohohohoth of you, stohohohohop this instahahahant! This is unprohohohofessional!”

“Pfft, you think we care about being professional here?” Nagisa laughed, tickling harder. “We’re just having fun! Lighten up!”

Makoto nodded. “He’s right. We’re just helping you relax a little after practicing so hard today!”

Rei felt himself blushing as he cackled and squirmed and tried his best to escape their tickly clutches. The surprises just kept coming in the Iwatobi Swim Club.

*

2) Lee Haru, Ler Sousuke

“I’ve never heard you laugh before.”

Haru gave Sousuke a withering look. “I wonder why.”

“You do have a sense of humor, don’t you? You’re friends with Rin and all.”

“You realize this conversation is weird, right?” Haru frowned. “You don’t even like me. Why are you suddenly interested in whether I laugh or not?”

Sousuke quirked a brow. “Are you saying you don’t laugh? Ever?”

“Quit putting words in my mouth.”

The taller man appraised him for a moment, then poked his side experimentally. When Haru jerked away, Sousuke had his answer. He smirked. “So you do laugh.”

“No I don’t,” Haru shot back, instantly regretting his words when a spark of interest glinted in Sousuke’s eyes. “I mean – I do! But not…not when I’m…”

“You don’t laugh when you’re tickled? What do you do, then?” The dark-eyed man grabbed his waist and squeezed, fully curious now.

Haru jerked again and let out a breathy giggle, twisting and shoving at Sousuke’s shoulders. “Stohohop it! This is weheheheird!”

Sousuke winced instinctively, but he was too intrigued to stop now. “You don’t laugh? Seriously? What if I find a bad spot?”

“No! You wohohohon’t!” Haru protested, smiling wide despite himself. “I dohohohon’t lahahaugh! Ask anyohohohone!”

“Rin?”

“Yes! Rihihihihin! Ask hihihihihim! Let me go alreadyehehehe!”

Sousuke hummed, gradually letting up with a shrug. “Sure. I’ll ask him. But you know if he tells me you do actually laugh, I’m going to come back and finish this later.”

Haru shot to his feet, glaring as he backed away and then turned to leave. “You don’t even like me.”

Sousuke rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well…you tend to grow on people, don’t you, Haru?”

Haru didn’t reply, but the words made him feel slightly better about what had just happened.

*

3) Lee Rin, Ler Sousuke

“You don’t need to act so tough around me,” Sousuke reminded Rin, nudging him. “What’s really going on?”

“Wha-huh?” Rin stammered, surprised. “I’m not acting tough. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, forgive me if I don’t believe you.” Sousuke eyed Rin carefully. He’d honestly be inclined to believe nothing was wrong if not for the obvious sad look in his friend’s gaze. If it was Haru again he swore he’d kill him. “Come on, man. What’s up?”

Rin crossed his arms and leaned back against the bench with an indignant huff. “Nothing. You’re reading too much into it. I’m fine.”

Sousuke sighed heavily. “Don’t make me pull it out of you, Rin.”

“Pull what? There’s nothing to – hey!” Rin was already giggling before his friend had even done anything, the presence of wiggling fingers approaching him enough to put him on edge. “D-Don’t – there’s nothing wrong!”

“I don’t believe you.” Sousuke smirked and tickled the redhead’s ribs gently, pleased with the high-pitched laughter he got for his efforts. Rin squirmed and pushed at him, but Sousuke was nothing if not immovable. He merely kept it up and tickled harder every time Rin tried to jump out of his seat, and eventually his friend gave up trying to fight.

“Okay, okahahahahahay! I’ll tehehehehehell you!” Rin laughed, punching Sousuke’s chest. “Stohohohohohop!”

“All right, but I’m still holding onto you for insurance in case you try lying again.” The taller man chuckled at the deer-in-the-headlights look Rin gave him. “Spill it.”

“It’s just…I’m kind of…” Rin mumbled, trying to find the right words. It was difficult to focus with Sousuke’s fingers still on his ribcage. “Ugh, you’re going to think it’s stupid.”

Sousuke went back to tickling him. “Tell me.”

“Ah! Okahahahahahahay! All right, fihihihihihine, I yehehehehehelled at Nitori!”

“What?” Sousuke stopped, frowning. “Why?”

“It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything. I was just in a bad mood and I snapped at him and now I feel like crap about it.” Rin sighed. “I know all I have to do is apologize, but…I’m kind of worried he won’t forgive me this time.”

Sousuke finally let him go, nudging him again. “Nitori’s a smart kid. I’m sure he knows you didn’t mean anything by it. Just go talk to him, Rin. Don’t beat yourself up over a simple misunderstanding.” He reached over and tweaked his side again, grinning when Rin yelped. “And quit pouting. It’s not like you.”

“Ack! Bahahahack off, you beast!” Rin giggled, finally getting to his feet for real this time. “I’m going to go and apologize right now. Thanks for listening, you jerk.”

Sousuke waved at him as he went. “Anytime, man.”

*

4) Lee Makoto, Ler Rin

“I wouldn’t say that with the position you’re in.”

Rin smirked at Makoto, who stood with his hands over the sink in the restroom, blue paint all over his hands from a project he’d been doing with the kids he coached. Rin had stopped by for a visit just as he was finishing up, and immediately Makoto had begun joking about how the world must be ending for the legendary Rin Matsuoka to be visiting a lowly coach like him.

“Dude,” Makoto laughed, “just turn on the tap for me, would you? I don’t want to get paint on the handles.”

Rin shrugged. “I don’t know. Should I be helping a lowly coach like you wash his hands after fraternizing with the next generation of competitors? Hmm…”

Makoto smiled, rolled his eyes, and reached for the knob with his elbow instead. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

Rin darted over to him in an instant, grabbing onto his sides and squeezing. “Careful! You’ll get paint all over the wall! Or worse – on your uniform!”

“Stohohohohop! Rihihihihin!” Makoto laughed, using every ounce of willpower he had not to shove him away. With his hands covered like this, the only thing he could do was stand there and let his friend tickle him. “Plehehehehehease! I’ll get pahahahahahaint all over you!”

Rin gasped dramatically, grinning at him through the mirror. “You wouldn’t dare get the great Rin covered in blue paint, would you? What kind of example would you be setting for the kids?”

Makoto clenched his fists and glued his arms to his sides as much as possible, trying to protect himself as his old friend continued being playful with him. “Rihihihihihihihin! This isn’t fahahahahair! Plehehehehease!”

“Don’t whine. It’s not becoming of a coach.” Rin chuckled, but finally let him go as requested and turned on the tap for him. “There. Wash up, buttercup.”

Makoto shakily rinsed the paint from his hands, still giggling. “You jerk. You haven’t changed at all.”

“Were you hoping I would?”

“Not in the slightest.” The brunette smiled at him through the mirror. “We need a resident tickle monster around to keep us in line.”

*

5) Lee Rin, Ler Haru

“Next time you’ll think twice before you prank me,” Haru said calmly, sitting on Rin’s back, pinning his arms above his head.

Rin struggled, but it was pointless and he knew it. Haru was stronger than he looked, and when he was determined not to let someone get off easy, no amount of physical fighting would budge him. “All right, all right, you got me. I’m sorry about the mackerel thing. Can you let me up?”

Haru was silent for a moment. Then he poked a single finger into Rin’s ribs and wiggled.

“Gahk!” Rin squawked, jerking at the surprise sensation, biting his lip to keep from giggling immediately. “Haru! D-Don’t – hey!”

“You always tickle us when we try to mess around with you,” Haru said, stoic as ever. “I think it’s only fair that we do the same in return.”

“Nohoho!” Rin huffed out a snicker, squirming helplessly even before his old friend suddenly dug in with all five fingers. “AHAHAHAHAGH!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!”

“It was mean to get my hopes up like that. And after I haven’t seen you for months, too. You should know better than to tease me about something as serious as mackerel.”

“MAHAHAHACKEREL ISN’T SEHEHEHEHEHERIOUS!!” Rin protested.

Haru let go of his arms to drill all ten fingers into both sets of his friend’s ribs, pulling a loud screech of hysterical laughter out of him, followed by frantic kicking and flailing.

“OKAYOKAYOKAY I’M SOHOHOHOHOHOHORRY HARU!! I’M SOHOHOHOHORRY!!”

Rin couldn’t see it, of course, but Haru was smiling at him, enjoying pulling such pure, genuine laughter out of his friend that he hadn’t seen for what felt like forever. He kept up his relentless tickle torture, comfortably seated on the redhead’s back. “I’m sorry, too, Rin. Sorry that I’m having too much fun to stop now. I hope you didn’t have any other plans for today.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHARU!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE, I’M SORRY!! HAHAHAHAHAHARU…!!”

*

6) Lee Nagisa, Ler Haru

“I’ll tickle it out of you,” Haru said, calmly pushing Nagisa’s hands above his head before the words had a chance to register, tightening his grip when the blonde’s eyes widened and he began to squirm.

“W-Wait—”

“Tell me where it is.”

“I can’t, Haru—!”

Haru wasted no time. Thanks to it being close to swim practice, Nagisa was only in his swimsuit, leaving his exceedingly ticklish torso completely open for the taller boy’s fingers to scribble over, drawing bubbly, shrieky giggles out of him.

“Wahahahahait! Plehehehehease, I cahahahahahan’t tell you!”

“You’d better.”

“Ahahahahahahaha nohohohohohoho!” Nagisa squealed, blushing under the intense gaze of his friend but having a lot of fun at the same time. Luckily for him he loved being tickled, so he’d be able to hold out longer than anyone else would have if they’d been the ones to hide Haru’s swimsuit from him. Perhaps it seemed childish, but truly, it was the only way to keep the man from the water just long enough for Rei and Makoto to get back with their surprise.

“Tell me,” Haru demanded.

Nagisa shook his head. “Nehehehehehehever! You’ll nehehehehehever make me tahahahahalk!”

Haru quirked a brow and switched from light scribbling to digging right into his friend’s underarm – a spot he knew from experience was particularly sensitive.

Nagisa shrieked, knees wobbling as he struggled to remain on his feet, laughter exploding from his lungs. “NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NO FAHAHAHAHAHAHAIR, HARU!!”

“Where is it?”

“I WOHOHOHOHON’T TEHEHEHEHEHELL YOU!! R-REI AND MAHAHAKOTO—!!”

“Did they put you up to this?”

“WE AHAHAHAHAHALL DECIHIHIHIHIDED—!!”

“It was a mistake to keep me from the water.”

“PLEASE, HAHAHAHARU, LEHEHEHEHEHET ME EXPLAHAHAHAIN!!”

Haru couldn’t help but smile a little. As frustrated as he was about being kept from the pool thanks to his friend’s antics, it was truly enjoyable to make him laugh so hard. “All right, then.” He let go of Nagisa’s arms, scooped him up from behind, and tickled his ribs while his feet were dangling above the ground. “Let me hear it, Nagisa.”

The little blonde tossed his head back and squealed with giggles, determined to hold out until their friends got back.

Hopefully they wouldn’t be too much longer…

*

7) Lee Rin, Ler Sousuke

“Lot of courage for someone who’s about to get tickled,” Sousuke murmured into Rin’s ear, hugging him even harder and worming his hands under the redhead’s arms.

Rin’s eyes widened in the split second before he choked on his own giggles, trying to pull away but unable to move an inch thanks to Sousuke’s taller, stronger build. He just had to wrap his arms around his friend’s shoulders rather than around his middle!

“Ahehehahahahahaha! Sohohohouske, why?!” he squealed, squirming and giggling into his friend’s chest, feeling deep, rumbling chuckles rise up from the taller man in response to his own desperation.

“Because I can.” Sousuke sounded so nonchalant, curse him! “And because it’s about time you get a taste of your own medicine, you tickle monster.”

“Buhuhuhuhuhuhut I hahahahaven’t tickled you in forehehehehever – wait, no! No, not the RIHIHIHIHIHIBS!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Actually, I’m doing this on Nitori’s behalf. The poor kid says you can’t let him go a week without tickling him near to death. Is that true?”

Nitori! Rin swore he’d get him double time after this. “I cahahahahahan’t hehehehehehelp it! He’s sohohohohoho eheheheheasy to cohohohohorner!” Rin let out an actual shriek when Sousuke suddenly darted back down to his upper ribs, still holding him in a tight hug that he couldn’t escape from. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Easy to corner? Easy to tickle because he has no fight or flight response? Is that it?” Sousuke chuckled along with his hysterical friend. “You really are a monster.”

“COME OHOHOHOHOHON, SOHOHOHOHOUSUKE!!” Rin begged, gripping his friend’s shirt collar for lack of being able to do anything else to ease the strong sensations coursing through his body. “YOU KNOHOHOHOHOW IT’S FUHUHUHUHUN!! STOP TIHIHIHIHICKLING ME THEHEHEHEHEHERE!!”

“Why should I?” Sousuke replied, digging even harder, making Rin fall into wheezing cackles. “You just said it yourself, Matsuoka. It’s fun to tickle you like this. Especially riiiiight here.”

Rin screamed with laughter when Sousuke found that super sensitive spot right between his ribs and underarms, making his knees give out so he was dangling helplessly in his friend’s strong hold, feet scrabbling on the ground and arms flailing in the air behind his neck. “NONONONONO NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!! PLEASE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! SOUSUKE!! MEHEHEHEHEHERCY!!!”

Sousuke chuckled again, holding him even tighter, refusing to be swayed by his pleas when it was obvious he was having way too much fun. This was supposed to be a punishment, after all. “No can do, Rin. I promised Nitori I’d make you sorry.”

It was several more minutes before Rin met that criteria.

*

8) Lee Makoto, Ler Rin

“Well, someone’s grouchy,” Rin said with a roll of his eyes, lunging for his friend and pushing him down on the couch, fingers finding his ribs with ease. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

“I’m nohohohot grohohohouchyehehehehe!” Makoto protested, trying to stay serious despite the ticklish feelings lighting up his nervous system with every poke and prod from his tickle monster of a friend. “I’m juhuhuhust upsehehehehet!”

“Same thing,” Rin teased, easily straddling his friend’s kicking legs, having done this dozens of times before and knowing exactly how to get each of his friends laughing themselves silly in no time.

Makoto squealed and tossed his head back, hands flying down to try and push Rin away from his stomach. “Nohohohoho! Dohohohon’t!”

“Still got a ticklish tummy, hmm?” Rin easily found spots that were unprotected by Makoto’s hands to tickle, drawing even more growly giggles out of him. “Tickle, tickle!”

“Dohohohohon’t tehehehehehease!” Makoto cried, face turning pink from the laughing and flusteredness. “Rihihihihihin!”

“Don’t tease Rin? Aw, but I like teasing~”

“Nohohohoho, I mehehehehean—! Dohohohon’t tehehehehease me!”

Rin chuckled. “My statement still stands, I’m afraid. Oh!” He pretended to be surprised when he found Makoto’s belly button through his t-shirt. “Look! A giggle button!”

At this, Makoto finally gave up and let Rin do what he wanted, tickling and teasing and playing around until the brunette was wheezing with giggles and pleading for a reprieve. He was so lost in the haze of ticklish sensations that he couldn’t even remember why he’d been upset in the first place.

“There we go,” Rin declared at last, sitting back with a triumphant smile on his face. “No more grouchy pants.”

“I’m…juhuhuhust confused,” Makoto replied, gradually catching up to where he’d been pre-tickle attack but not so much that his mood darkened again. “He said he was on his way half an hour ago. Where—?”

At that moment Haru finally walked through the door, calm as you please, kicking his shoes off. “I’m here. Sorry, I got sidetracked by a…” He trailed off when he saw the position his friends were in. “Uh…am I interrupting?”

“No!” Makoto cried, and Rin laughed at both of their expressions, his mirth coming out in higher-pitched squeaks when his victim from moments ago decided to get revenge. “Now look what you did, Rin! You’re making us look weird!”

The both of them kept tickling each other and laughing throughout the night while Haru watched them in amused confusion from the sidelines.

*

9) Lee Rin, Ler Nitori

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

Nitori groaned. “Seriously? I haven’t gotten to ask you even one question yet! How do you keep winning?”

Rin playfully closed Nitori’s scissors with his rock and shrugged. “You’re just really bad at this.”

“How can you be bad at rock, paper, scissors?”

“You’re managing it somehow.” The redhead grinned. “Hmm, let’s see, what to ask next…?”

It was a cold, rainy day outside and the pool was closed for maintenance (apparently the heater had rather inconveniently decided to go out), so the two boys were stuck in their dorm room, bored out of their minds and desperate to kill time. They had come up with a cross between rock, paper, scissors and twenty questions, where the person who won got to ask the other something. So far, Rin had asked Nitori seven questions, with an eighth incoming.

Nitori was quickly losing his patience with this game.

“Oh! I know,” Rin said now, snapping his fingers and brightening. “Are you ticklish?”

“Wha-huh?!” Nitori stammered, giving himself away with his wide eyes even before he managed an actual reply. “I-I mean, yes, but don’t get any ideas!”

“Oh, come onnn. We’re so bored!”

“I’m not bored!”

“You’re not?”

“Nope, I’m good!” Nitori shrunk back, watching with hawk-like eyes as Rin shifted subtly and smirked at him. “Don’t you dare, Rin, I swear—!”

The redhead lunged, but thankfully, Nitori was used to dodging taller boys after he’d stopped growing a couple of years ago and kept getting jostled around by his classmates and teammates. He escaped Rin’s grabby hands, then – thinking quickly – he tackled his friend while he was in a more vulnerable position and started tickling him instead.

“Ah! Hehehehehey, wait! No fahahahahahair!”

“You’re the one who was bored enough to try and tickle me,” Nitori shot back, grinning, scrambling to climb on top of him so he couldn’t get away or fight back easily. “Why can’t I do the same? It was your idea.”

“Buhuhuhuhut I wahahahahanted to hear you lahahahahaugh – hey! Not thehehehehehere!” Rin squeaked and cackled, arching his back when Nitori got to his ribs. “Nohohohohohoho!”

The smaller boy smiled at his boisterous roommate. “Too bad. Looks like you’ll have to be the one laughing today, Rin~”

[523rdrebel]

Hello there! I saw you were in need of prompts, and I hope this is a helpful one:

Tech & Reader (platonic or romantic), sharing a snack at Cid’s bar after a relatively successful mission. Reader’s accuracy with a blaster has improved, and Tech noticed.

Happy writing 💙💙

Thank you so much for this prompt! 💙💙 This one went a totally different direction than I originally thought, but I hope you like it!

Title - Something There That Wasn't There Before

Warnings: None, SFW

You sit down at the Bar at Cids, sighing heavily, the relief your tired body feels causing you to fold over and lay your head down on the countertop. The bar is cool and an involuntary groan escapes your lips. Tech sits down at the counter next to you, glancing sidelong at you with a soft smile curving the side of his lips. He leans his elbow on the bar and he shifts his focus back to the data pad in his hand.

Echo enters your field of vision and places a small container of Outpost Mix on the counter between you and Tech. “Here. Eat something. Hunter and I will turn the cargo in and get our payment.” He lands a light slap on your back, it hurt, but you succeeded in containing another involuntary groan. “You did good, kid.” You huffed a laugh, eyebrow arching upward, “Kid, huh? You know technically, I’m older than all of you!” You aren't certain, but perhaps saying that with your head laying on the bar didn't help your case. You are certain, however, that you heard Tech, Wrecker, and Hunter laugh as well. "Experience outranks everything - Kid." Echo arched his eyebrow in response, smiling as he turned away, heading towards Hunter outside Cid's office.

You reach your free hand to sample some of the outpost mix. It is a colorful grain, popped in some sort of oil. It tastes mildly sweet with a little kick of spice. “Mmm, Tech, you should try this.” You hold out the container with your free hand.

He looks up briefly from his datapad, a smile ghosts across his face as he takes in your position, leaning over the counter, head laid on one arm, an exhausted, goofy grin on your face. He nods and takes some of the mix. His eyes linger holding your gaze captive, “Echo is right," he says. You did quite well. I noted an impressive increase in accuracy.”

“Oh? The, uh, the shaking wasn’t as bad this time, I suppose.” Your brows furrow and you feel a wave of shame, guilt, and frustration wash over you. Useless, you think.

Tech adjusted his goggles and cocked his head to the side as he often did when observing new information. “The shaking is to be expected. Recovery from your injuries is an extensive process, but it seems our practice sessions have been paying off. The shaking is doing little to compromise your stability and control. I calculate a 12.35% improvement in marksmanship since our last mission.”

That surprised a deep chuckle out of you and you sat up, leaning your elbow on the counter. Your eyes soften and you regard Tech with a warm smile, “Well, I have a good teacher.” 

You watch Tech's eyes widen slightly, pride and affection shining in those brown irises, and a smile ghosts across his lips.“Yes. Well, without Crosshair–"

"He would probably have strangled me by the end of the second training session." You laugh, "Besides, I think I much prefer my current teacher."

Tech blinks, absorbing the declaration and pauses briefly before responding. "As I have been your only teacher since your injury, you do not have enough data to make that decision." You simply blink at him and an raise your brow. He adjusts his goggles once more, "But-uh, thank you." You could swear you can see a blush forming, but he continues, "I have also enjoyed training- uh, with you." His eyes dart to yours, punctuating the word 'you'.

You hold Tech's gaze and feel a sudden warm tightness blossom in your chest. -Well, this is new, the thought flashes in your mind then dissolves.

"OH! What's this!?" 

Eye contact is broken as Wrecker bursts the mysterious tension with loud enthusiasm, shouldering past you and reaching a hand into the outpost mix. He takes a handful and tosses it into his mouth, exclaiming, "Mmm! This is almost as good as Mantel Mix!" He flings his arms wide and hooks an arm around you and Tech pulling you into a crushing hug.

You hear Tech's muffled groan, "Wrecker! Do put me down!"

Wrecker laughs and drops you both with a soft thud. You nearly fall to the floor as he walks away, laughing deeply and loudly, to catch Omega for their trip to get their victory Mantell Mix.

Instead, you feel the light pressure of Tech's hand on your waist and he prevents your less than graceful fall. "Careful" He says, voice a little deeper than his normal tone. "We wouldn't want to have to start your training over - due to an aggravated injury."

Your mind goes dreadfully blank as he ensures your balance is restored. Tech returns to his seat and his datapad, then quietly holds out the remaining Outpost Mix.

You thank him and munch on the snack, your mind busy and your chest warm.

[jaestrz]

sincerely, yours. -Mingyu

- idol!au - gyuxreader - fluff - little angst - soft hours -

“even if you’re on your hardest days, the reason I came into your life is to make you feel better and protect you.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍

you couldn’t comprehend everything that was going on around you, it’s like something was going too fast. you couldn’t catch the detail you were supposed to understood and the frustrating was pinning you down too much till it was getting harder to breathe.

Woozi recorded a new song. It was great. But then it wasn’t really well went it came to deciding who gets to sing which part. He worked so hard to composed a song, you didn’t have the gut to decline his suggestions. Either a yes or just a nod, you had to push yourself.

An upbeat song. With lots of raps. And that made you spaced out.

“I feel like you should try something new. There’s a part I think will fit your voice. What do you think y/n?” You stared at the lyrics sheet. It was filled with scribbles of rearranging, changing and writings by Woozi and maybe some other members too. Your mind was thinking twice, wondering if you should really follow his orders. Because…

You never say no to Woozi when it comes to producing songs. He stayed up endless nights trying to start a song from scratch with or without Bumzu. If you said no then it surely would give him a negative reaction. You suck in a breath. “I think it’s nice, but you know it’s not what I usually get in a song right?”

He nodded. “I think you’ll be alright. I want to give you all fair lines and everyone has some rap part.”

The last time you did something that wasn’t familiar in the vocal team activity was a b-side track years ago. You didn’t sound pretty well in rapping either. It was a relief it wasn’t a song to perform often.

-

It ended you alone in the vocal room.

Repeating the same lyrics, over and over but it always fails. If it was the hip hop team, this would’ve been their easiest job in 3 minutes. You thought, gripping the water bottle in your hand, only the sound of plastic crinkling could be heard in the cramped room. You were wondering if you could actually burst a tear with all the frustration that’s bubbling in you.

Until a knock on the door that scared you as it opens. Revealing Mingyu in a sweatshirt with a soft smile on his face. His familiar scent of strong cologne filled in and he was hugging you.

He came by after he found out you had to do something you’re not familiar with. Indeed he thought that line was hard as well, but now he only could think of guiding you to get through it. “It was really hard huh? It’ll be alright. I’m here.” He kissed the top of your forehead and you let your frustrations out with tears.

-

He put on a hyped attitude every single day just to get you to like rapping. Either jumping like a 5 year old or cracking up a joke to get your mood started as a laughter.

He played the beats on his phone and helped you with starting it slow and it went a little faster resulting you in some twisted words with a annoyed sighed.

“It’s okay. It went well. I like that.” Gyu complimented, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear so it wasn’t a disturbance to your view.

But it wasn’t a one day practiced. He helped you every single day when you needed and he was glad to help you. And at night, he made sure to compliment how good you were each day. Tight in his arms and hear him saying how you improved a lot and how much he loves you.

“I think you can quit the vocal team now.” He joked, playing with your hair as you lay in bed with him. A chuckle left your lips. “but I’m still learning baby.”

Mingyu hummed. “ but you are really good now. I don’t think you need my help anymore.”

You tilted your head up to see his face and Mingyu looks at you as well. He saw your hardships throughout everything you’ve been through. And he was actually there. The person to help you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too baby.”

-

On recording day, you felt anxious. Even though you had to ask Woozi for a take 5, it still went alright. Woozi looked satisfied and a smile planted on his face. “You did pretty well. Nice one y/n.” Woozi told you.

You muttered a thank you before exiting, that anxious feeling left your body as soon as you got out. Mingyu and other members were on the sofa. “You did great.” He said and you just smiled.

.

민규🌟

i couldn’t express my feelings by how much thankful I am to have millions of people supporting me and loving me. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for my loved ones. Throughout this moment, I had learnt a lot. I feel glad that I could be someone to lean on when they think they have no one. There’s time where things gets hard for me but then I thought about the reason how I stood up until today. I’m grateful how I could receive this kind of love. Please support on our comebacks in the future. Our members worked hard and y/n went through some hardships during it. I remember seeing her almost gave up and it really did have her a lot of pressure. With now she’s back, I hope our team will stay together until the end ^^ for y/n, I’m proud of you for getting this far with me and seventeen. Since trainee days I know how hard it was for you. But now you’re back, let’s love each other sincerely like we always did and never hide our difficulties from each other. Everyone please stay healthy and be sure to eat a lot! Goodnight! 🤍

sincerely yours, Mingyu.

[plaindangan]

Ruruka Andou eating an aphrodisiac macaron which led her to do an entire day of gooning  without a break.

Then she decides to eat another and make the matter even worse.

Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not view!

They say dealer's should never sample their own wares...but Ruruka was someone who pretty much spat at someone trying to tell her what to do or put in her body. Her special 'spicy sweets' were always a best seller for Valentine's Day and she had gotten curious over what it'd be like to consume one. Just one macaron couldn't hurt, ri-

Holy fuck.

Currently, she had spent the entirety of her Saturday at her house, one hand massaging her breasts, the other working with a vibrator to get Ruruka off for the tenth time today. She was soooo hoooooornny!!! She needed to be fucked!! She craved to be filled with spunk and ass stretched anew!!! She just wanted to cum, cum, cum!!!! But, she had the poor luck of doing this when both Izayoi and Seiko were away for most of the day, and so had to do with over used sex toys and nude photos of both on her phone...

But that wasn't enough, she can end something like that with just mere self-satisfaction!! Even as her horniness died down in the depths of night...she needed human contact!!

Hence, why she called both of her pals up so late to come over...and took another macaron to get herself back up and running for their arrival.

"R-ruruka? I'm here, so is Sonosuke! Y-you sounded really breathless on the phone, so I brought some of my medicineeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!" Both Seiko and Izayoi were standing at Ruruka's doorway for barely a minute before the door opened and two hands dragged them into the darkness.

By the time either realized it, they'd been tossed into Ruruka's room, which was equally as dark. Well, up until the lights came on. Revealing Ruruka, with a hazy predatorish stare and grin, with a leather cap on, dark red gloves, lacey red underwear and kinky booty. In her hands was a riding crop that she playfully slapped against her hand at her two soon to be victims.

"Thank you for showing up as quickly as you did...but you're still a bit too late for my liking. Mistress Ando is gonna have to punish her darling little pets~ Now, strip!!"

"R-ruruka? It's 2 AM, i-it's a bit late f-for a threesome right now. Right, S-sonosu-oh, c'mon seriously!?" In the second, Seiko took her eyes off him to look dead at Ruruka, Izayoi had stripped himself down to his red boxers and in a stance like a dog, crawling up to Ruruka to nuzzle at her leg. Ruruka giggled, scratching Izayoi's head before quietly slipping a macaron between his lips.

"Good boy! You deserve that treat~" She turned to Seiko and, much to the geek's anxiousness, walked up to her. Corning Seiko at the door and looking at her like a meal fit to be devoured.

"R-r-r-ruka, I-I, um, c-can we-oooohhh~" she was cut off as Ruruka kissed her right on her lips and grabbed her by butt. The saliva that had traces of the 'spicy sweet' getting into Seiko's systems and having her become very aroused as well, wanting to submit to Ruruka right then and there.

"Ready to play it my way for a bit?" Seiko, face flushed pink, nodded. Much to Ruruka's giggled delight. Whacking the girl's backside with the riding crop she pointed towards the bed. Where a very erect Sonosuke was awaiting them~

"Good! Now get over there and strip naked! I wanna see your face after you lick me clean while Sonosuke ruins that fat ass of yours...and after that why don't you see if your strap-on game has improved as I guzzle down my good boy's creme? That good? Hm?" Ruruka watched as, in response to their game of fun, Seiko had popped one of her pills. One that turned her into quite the monster with an unreal sense of stamina. A stamina that no doubt was going to take practically half of next morning to properly satiate...

Perfect~

[myrhymesarepurer]

Lavender Bergamot Something-or-Other

Pairing: Royai, Roy Mustang x Riza Hawkeye, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood Rating: G and lovely and sweet Words: 5,109 Readable after the break or on my ao3.

Summary: FMAB, East Command

Rebecca placed the pretty little package, wrapped in brown paper and twine in Riza’s hand. Unwrapped, it revealed a simple bar of scented soap: lavender bergamot something or other.

“I’m hoping this would inspire you to…branch out, meet more people.”

“I meet plenty of people.”

“Okay, when I say people, I mean a man, Riza, a partner - a romantic one -  that’s not in the military,  not an asshat, and preferably not your boss”

Riza hid her smirk in her tea. However much Riza liked to tease Rebecca, her honest take on such relationships was rather bleak. After all, even dressed up with all the bells and whistles,

How many fine gentlemen would realistically stay after I can remember the face of every person I’ve ever killed? --

“Lieutenant, did you…” the Colonel finally looked at Riza for the first time that morning and then blinked, “This is going to sound quite strange and I know that, yet it continues to bother me” “Yes, Sir?” “Did you change your soap?”

----

a/n

This is me working on a 100 page monster chapter every day, getting weary, and trying to write something tender and not as demanding without freaking out about phrasing or contractions and turning it into a hollywood Epic.

I also always admired every time Hawkeye might be considered slightly insubordinate in the name of schooling Mustang back into shape, Roy stares at her with heart-eyes

(i.e  “stay here, so if anything happens you can get out” “no” “okay, will you stay here if i promise to come back?” “yup, happy hunting, sir”)

Enjoy my daydreaming.

Readable after the break or on my ao3.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was pretty clear to most that Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye wasn’t a vain woman. She didn’t spend much too long on her outward appearance. That wasn’t to say she didn’t have to resist a most human glance in the little mirror above her key hook on the way out of her flat. In those moments when she did look, she bit her lip, narrowed her eyes, and tilted her head.

The traces of mascara she had applied, barely a brush of blush and a swipe of lip balm - she clocked each one and paused every time in doubt. Riza could never decide if she was naturally pretty enough to put so little work into this kind of thing. But, after the second she spent in the mirror passed, Riza concluded that she supposed she didn’t care. Things like these were ultimately useless.

If she had an opinion, Riza would say there wasn’t much to improve, even if she put a good half hour into the process. Every morning, she showered. She brushed her hair. She fussed over her bangs some but had more at less gotten it down to a science. The rest of it all consisted of practically superfluous details for which she was never sure why she wasted even the mere thirty seconds on the ritual that she did. Sure, sure, Riza could see some “prettiness”  in her face, usually brought to her attention by Rebecca Catalina right after her friend decided to begin gushing about a new beauty trend over their weekend lunches, and right before Rebecca executed her grand scheme to push said new beauty trend upon her. 

Riza was never interested. Yet, she was happy to hear her friend ramble about something other than Jean Havoc or work or Jean Havoc at work. Grimmly, Riza assumed that she had maintained what delicate features she had through her age simply because she was a sharpshooter, positioned high and at a distance, removed from the blood and the sand and the wind and the fire. Still, Riza was never one to ponder any significant…additions to her routine, no matter how popular or what lovely hypothetical Rebecca attempted to spin. “Oh, but Riza, you’d look so lovely in this shade. This gold shimmer is meant precisely for your eye color.” Rebecca showcased that particular item as if she was the saleswoman herself, “It’s a real head turner, nearly an instant hot date.” “Hot date, right,” Riza said suspiciously batting away Rebecca’s hand reaching across the table, and attempting to apply the glistening powder. Considering the way her finger was traveling, this product was meant to be applied directly to one's eyeball. Rebbeca scrunched her nose, most displeased and snapped the little case shut after Riza successfully flinched away from her assault. “I don’t think that’s for me.” “Oh, you’re no fun.” Riza chuckled dryly, “I just don’t see the point. I spend most of my days buried in paperwork or covered in dog fur. ” Rebecca’s bright green eyes narrowed then she shrugged so nonchalantly chalant “Well, of course, I would hope the shimmer would inspire you to…branch out.” Riza saw this as an opportunity to deliberately ignore her friend’s point, “I suppose the color does match my uniform - blue and gold”

“Ha-ha,” Rebecca glared.  Riza hid her small smirk in her tea as Rebecca ignored Riza’s rebuffs and continued to insist. “No, I meant a night out. You know, dress up, go to a nice place.” “I go out sometimes” “When?” “Well, we’re having lunch right now, aren’t we?” “Riza, I’m here out East every other week. You need to meet more people.” Riza crinkled her eyebrows, and tirelessly dodged once more, “I meet plenty of people.” Rebecca tirelessly advanced, just the same, “Okay, when I say someone I mean a man, Riza, a suitor.” Riza put a finger on her lip, hummed, and sounded out the word, “Sui-tor” Rebecca clearly, at that point, had enough of little miss Riza Hawkeye’s signature teasing and simply got straight to the point with frightening clarity, “Yes, a partner, a romantic one. That’s not in the military, not an asshat, and preferably not your boss.” “Ah,” Riza hid her smirk in her tea once more, “There it is. Rebecca Catalina’s famous conspiracy theory.” 

Riza need not elaborate any further for Rebecca to know she was going to get absolutely nowhere on that point. Just like every other time she dared to make such an assumption. 

“You’re incorrigible,” Rebecca threw her hands up and surrendered the little powder case to the depths of her purse in defeat, “and you work too much, and you’re going to be alone for the rest of your life.” 

Riza snickered, reached down, and pet the pup at her feet, “That’s alright. Hayate will keep me company.” “Riza, come on. I’m trying to help.” “Fine,” Riza huffed, “I appreciate your love and concern, Rebecca. You know I do. But, you said it yourself. I work too much.” “Heavens, she admits it,” Rebecca feigned a gasp. “Moreover, I’m a twenty-something war veteran and not terribly easy to get along with. Who’s head am I supposed to be turning that would actually be interested past the gold dust and the red lipstick?” Rebecca was the one to pick up her tea at this point. She had smiled softly, and exhaled a small laugh, but across the table, Riza watched her lined and shadowed doe eyes sadden quite quickly. Riza didn’t mean to bring the mood down. She knew how sympathetic Rebecca was about the fact that out of all the cadets in their academy class, Riza was the one plucked straight from the shooting range and shipped out to the war front - alone. Riza never wanted her dear friend to waste her valuable energy feeling bad about something completely out of her control. Yet, however much Riza liked to tease Rebecca, what she said then was her honest take on such relationships - period. In the end, not only did her appearance have little real value or longevity, but Riza felt as if dressing up like that was brilliant bait in a sick trap meant to catch a well-meaning fellow unawares. Theoretically, let’s say she pulled out all the stops, the bells, and the whistles - If she gave in and let Rebecca dress her up like Riza knew she secretly had always wanted, and as a result, had a line of suitors forming outside her flat: How many of those fine gentlemen would realistically stay after I can remember the face of every person I’ve ever killed? Alright, perhaps that was too macabre. Yet, unfortunately, it was truly Riza Hawkeye’s reality. Work was really the only thing she felt she had actual potential, credible use. After all, civil war changes quite a bit of the most appealing qualities in a young woman her age. So, why waste time on all the trappings in an attempt to hide her damage? She, herself, was certainly more or less ambivalent about it all.  And, in the process, she could justify her abundant lack of effort in her appearance and social life with the noble notion of saving every potentially interested, well-meaning, whole and healed fellow from a lot of wasted time. That being said, just like her fleeting seconds in the mirror at her door, Riza’s reality never truly eliminated her ever-so-small human desire to be considered pretty - or something. By someone, maybe anyone other than Rebecca who perhaps told her so too many times and had a touch too much allegiance to Riza to be considered strictly unbiased. However silly and pointless of a wish it was, Riza found it irritatingly impossible to be rid of entirely. So, she kept the needless notion’s nagging at bay with the daily flick of mascara, and brush of blush, and swipe of lip balm, so on and so forth. It was one particular weekend lunch when Rebecca had just returned from a spell in Aerugo that she unveiled her best bet at snagging Riza’s interest. It was a pretty little package, wrapped in brown paper and twine. After Rebecca’s valiant pitch, she ultimately revealed her newest endorsement to be for a simple bar of scented soap: lavender bergamot something or other. “I felt that I should perhaps approach pampering on your terms,” Rebecca said kindly, unwrapping Riza’s gift for her “Just use this in the shower.” Riza weighed the small, smooth purple block in her palm before bringing it up to her nose to test the scent. Surprisingly, it was lovely. In fact, Riza had never really thought a scent could be so lovely…maybe she was much less experienced in all this than she thought. 

“Hm,” Riza responded, to which Rebecca grinned, utterly ecstatic, “Yes!! That was a resounding Riza Hawkeye response of approval if there ever was one.” As instructed by the guru herself, Riza did use the soap during her morning shower the next day, took her time, and enjoyed the scent. It caused no delay to her routine and provided something calming and charming about her morning. All and all, it was a success. Sure, it was a temporary pleasure that had no real long-term effect. But, it was simply the enjoyment of the thing that pleased Riza. Not to mention, this sort of item didn’t feel like some kind of crude mask for her baggage and war wounds and glaring flaws, nor a clever type of bait with which she meant to lure in someone clueless to buy her dinner when she’d really rather be home. After all, who would notice a change in soap? In the end, the luxury was only for her, and, to her surprise, she was happy with it. Then she arrived at the office. There wasn’t anything particularly different about that day, nor particularly unpleasant. Their routine proceeded how it would every morning. It was only that the Colonel would behave perfectly predictably, then would take a sharp turn in another direction, a turn of which Riza couldn’t quite interpret. It began right when the door opened, the Colonel entered, nodded at her “Good Morning, Lieutenant”, and began some sentence that sounded awfully important until he walked by her desk..and froze.

 “Sir?” Riza asked, pen paused on her paper, watching him expectantly. At the sound of her voice, Roy flinched, turned his head to look down at her, seated at her desk, for a touch too long, shook away whatever stopped him, and proceeded to his own chair. 

This would have been rather insignificant if moments of this nature did not keep occurring. There was next a moment in which Riza delivered another stack of papers to the corner of his desk, and the Colonel almost instantly pushed his chair away in the opposite direction, only inches but the move was noted with a squeak of the wheels. Colonel Mustang, of course, tried very cunningly to play it off and sweep it under the rug, but Riza was much too quick to be fooled and right away concluded that she was the common thread. He received memos from the other men just fine, and took the long way around to the front doors without freezing. Riza was positively certain of her accuracy when she was required to spend a prolonged amount of time in front of his desk due to the full packet of forms he had spent all morning completing…incorrectly. Riza had tabbed all the pages and lined items he needed to amend, reviewed them verbally quite quickly, gave a polite and hasty lecture of sorts on their crucial need for meticulousness, returned to him for a response, and received …zero feedback. Given, The Colonel was staring in her direction, but definitely not directly at her or even at the thick pile of forms he would have to redo. It was almost as if he could suddenly see right through her, his eyes glazed over and glancing here and there as if he was trying to place the source of her voice, but wasn’t quite sure where to start. It was finally when she knew the Colonel had come to and locked with her eyes again that he shook his head as he did before, swallowed, and said “Absolutely, right away, Lieutenant,” as if Roy Mustang was more than pleased to do hours worth of work all over again. Hawkeye, naturally, couldn’t help but be concerned. However, procrastination, daydreaming, and the like weren’t necessarily out of character for the Colonel. Plus, Riza didn’t have much time to investigate any further as it was obvious his chronic inattentiveness was causing an even greater productivity problem than normal. Come noon and their team was hours behind and she and her superior were running late to the biweekly admin meeting with the Investigations department. 

To begin with, the Colonel hated these meetings, dull and long and full of data. Riza already had to shoulder most of the work and field most of the questions during this particular appointment. Yet, with nearly one hundred percent of the Colonel’s brain power (and, frankly, competency) being siphoned to some unknown location all morning, Riza knew she couldn’t even miss a minute or they were in deep, deep shit. And, that’s how she ended up barreling down the hall of headquarters, Colonel in tow close behind. Riza was only feet from the elevator, and one small lift ride to the first floor when the Colonel revealed that not only was his attention lacking that day, but also his judgment which was altogether painfully inconvenient for his adjutant. “Lieutenant,” he said abruptly, falling out of line with her, instead parting sideways toward the wall, “Let’s take the stairs.” “But, Sir-” Riza glanced desperately at the hall clock. They did not have time for six flights of stairs. Yet, he bit an urgent, “Now” without giving her another glance, an order she couldn’t just ignore outright. Riza huffed and followed suit, rushing behind him down one flight of stairs and onto the next one until he snatched her arm and pulled her to a sudden stop on the landing. 

“Sir, what-” Once again, Colonel Mustang took a forced step, or two steps, backward before interrupting, “Lieutenant.” He still didn’t look at her, instead checked the door above and below them - closed and without any sign of opening. “Yes?” She prompted him. “Did you…” He finally looked at her and then blinked, “This is going to sound quite strange and I know that, yet it continues to bother me.” Something in Riza began to panic. If this was actually a medical issue, she really should have quit worrying so much about paperwork and addressed his well-being much earlier. Almost instantly she started to head back up the stairs, “Are you alright, Sir? We should take you to the infirmary, Colonel-” 

Again he grabbed her arm to halt her, and smiled reassuringly when he exhaled, “No no, I’m well. I just-” Then he froze again.  She interrupted him right away this time. 

“Yes, Sir?” “You…smell different.” Riza blinked. Roy had grimaced out his thought and as a result, she stared at him, dumbfounded. They proceeded to stare at each other until Riza realized once more he hadn’t been running on enough processing power to follow up. If they were meant to get to this meeting on time, now preferably, she needed to drive the conversation. 

So, she cleared her throat and did her best. “Are you actively smelling me, Colonel? “See, I didn’t think so then-” he lifted a finger and faded off again, luckily catching himself more or less right away “Did you change your soap?” 

Oh. Riza, in one breath, remembered her shower that morning and instantly regretted humoring Rebecca at all with whatever silly ideas she had about pampering or turning heads or pretty- what the hell was she thinking? She was so stupid, so stupid. How utterly humiliating. 

Throughout the morning he kept stepping away from her, focusing on something other than her, and that clearly indicated that her experience in this realm was so subpar that the soap actually smelled terrible, making the Colonel want to leave altogether. At that moment, for the two steps Roy had taken back all morning, she took four more for good measure. Consequentially, this placed the two of them one landing apart, she on the level they started, and he on the one just below. Perhaps an overcompensation, in retrospect. Roy fought off the instinct to laugh in an inelegant jerk. His eyebrows raised high when he casually posed the question, “Whatever are you doing up there, Lieutenant?” What the hell did he mean by that? Riza clenched her jaw. Hadn’t he been moving away all morning? “You said you were,” Riza winced a little, “smelling me, Sir? I figured-”  “So, you did change your soap or-”

“Yes, Sir, I did.” She swallowed, tucked the stack of folders she carried into her chest, “Rebecca gifted it to me yesterday after she returned from her trip…to Aerugo.” Riza held her breath.  “Right,” he nodded, swallowed, “It’s um-” 

It was at that moment Riza, sufficiently mortified, suspected perhaps Rebecca was playing some cruel practical joke on her to enact revenge on her beauty products scorned. “Some mix of flower or spice. I wouldn’t know as that’s not my area of expertise,” Riza rushed through and topped her explanation off with a most uncharacteristically unsure, “I liked it at the time, but….” Roy simply nodded again and took in the information, however slowly. Flower…and spice. Well, yes, of course, she liked it. It was nigh intoxicating. Roy wouldn’t be surprised if there was some kind of witchcraft in that stuff. When Roy looked up, somehow his Lieutenant had gotten even closer to the door above, and though the distance was much better for his train of thought, he realized she had the wrong idea altogether when she said “I can change it if it’s irritating you-” “No, no” Roy began his response, not knowing how to end it. Instead, he waved his arm toward him, “Lieutenant, just - get back down here, please.” Riza did ask as she was asked, and of course, the heavenly scent got heavier, and his head got cloudier. But, the Colonel thought it more important the Lieutenant did not get the ungodly impression that he didn’t want her near at all. In fact, it was very radically the opposite, “I was just meaning to say that. It’s..pretty.” Riza flinched at the word, “Pretty?” 

Frozen in front of her, Roy reeled through the dictionary in his head as fast as he could, searching for words he could say that would sound the least creepy. It was more difficult than he would have liked. Given, every thought process he tried to execute today was just a little, or a lot, harder so close to her. It was as if her new soap had single-handedly shattered through the very intricate, professional veil he placed over every other feature he would usually admire about Riza. Roy could admit he had gotten pretty good at it - ignoring his Lieutenant’s beauty. Most of the time, he would only have to combat one or two distractions from her direction. But, today, one step too close to her and his mind was flooded with this intoxicating flower, or spice, or something or other followed by each tiny little detail he found attractive in her  - which was basically everything about her physical or otherwise - in one massive haul. It was simply tragic for his productivity level, and he could tell Riza was having to pick up the slack for his weakness. Maybe, he should ask her to stop using it, Roy thought, even at the detriment of his own quality and quantity of Riza-themed daydreams. But, before he could suggest so, the amount of time he had spent attempting to think had stretched on for far too long. So, he accidentally just blurted out exactly what he thought, “I like it,” His smile was most honest, “it suits you.” “Ah,” Riza nodded carefully, “It suits me.”  

She still seemed unconvinced. Roy masked his floundering with a shrug like this was all nothing and he wasn’t desperate to explain himself in a way that didn’t divulge just how intricate his daydreams were becoming as a result of this inebriating combination of flower or spice or soap or whatever. “It’s lovely and you’re lovely, Lieutenant. It matches you…is what I mean.” He winced ever so slightly again, “Does that suffice?” It was a moment before an extremely timid smile finally blossomed on Riza’s lips, her eyes softening in a way that made Roy only want to move closer. “Yes, Sir. It does, and thank you” Roy was still a touch worried he’d scared her stiff until her small smile slide into a tentative smirk of sorts, “Ever unconventional, Colonel. I don’t imagine any other superior is commenting on their subordinates’ soap of choice.” Of course, Riza, here, meant any member of their unit. The Colonel, of course, didn’t take it that way. “Right, well I consistently bend the rules for you, don’t I?”  he went ahead and took the next flight of stairs. This time, Riza was quick to catch up, stop and scold him before they got anywhere near another door, “Colonel, I would not recommend bending any rules for anyone.” “I thought you’ve come to expect it, Lieutenant.”  “Expect it?” Riza balked, and pointedly lowered the volume of their conversation, “Sir, I certainly don’t expect any special treatment nor know why I would.”

Roy then scoffed, inhaled too much of whatever it was, and took one more step down before calling her out “Oh, come now, Hawkeye, of course, you do. How else would you be allowed to give those incorrigible lectures you like so much?” 

Riza huffed and rolled her eyes, exasperated by not only the Colonel’s wild accusations but his utter disregard for the very public place in which he dared to make them, “Sir, if you really insist on not hearing my recommendations, you can always order me to-” “Oh, never.” Roy threw away the suggestion “Wouldn’t dream of it, Lieutenant” “Sir?” Riza pleaded for clarity. “Well, frankly, I usually deserve them, and, personally,” Roy risked taking one step up closer to her, leaning in and grinning, “I like your lectures too.” Then. he. winked. Riza froze and she was sure she made a face because the smirk Roy was giving her only became more and more pleased. Such a shit-eating grin could have also been a side effect of the blush Riza could feel spreading across her nose and cheeks. It took Riza everything in her to squelch the stupid butterflies fluttering in her stomach and regain control over the situation, retake her role in their partnership - however many allowances the Colonel was supposedly making for her for whatever silly reasons he kept strictly to himself until the most inopportune moments. At least he had pulled her into an empty stairwell, Riza reluctantly bristled, willingly and deliberately ignoring the fact that any officer of any rank could have walked in on his most imprudent and irrelevant confessions at any point in time. “We have a meeting to attend, Colonel,” Riza stood her ground. “Right,” Roy, considering the bone-dry meeting they had in store for them downstairs, thought better about continuing forward without another sample of Riza’s soap of heavenly witchcraft. “After you, Lieut-” “No,” she abruptly, defiantly.  Roy raised an eyebrow. What was she saying about not expecting his special treatment? Certainly, Havoc, Breda, Fuery, nor Falman would dream of interrupting him, much less telling him no so emphatically and living very long to tell the tale. And, yet, here he was damn near charmed she accidentally gave him an order. “After you, Sir. I can’t risk you smelling me any more than necessary.” Roy’s sunshine grin slowly spread across his handsome face. “Shame, really.” 

—--

Once finally released from the clutches of the Investigations department, Riza and her Colonel once again opted for the stairs back up to their office. “How was that meeting for you, Colonel?” Riza flipped through her folder, outline after outline, page after page, “Did you need further clarification on any particular bullet point?” Riza asked this partially because she was genuinely hoping her superior had at least attempted to follow the three-hour appointment, regardless of how dry or tedious or however easy it was to simply lean on his overachieving adjutant. Yet, at the same time, Riza purposefully inquired in vain simply because she already knew the Colonel had done quite the undesirable opposite, for the whole damn sitting. The creeping and most objectively disappointing suspicions Riza Hawkeye had begun to form after her last impromptu stairwell conversation with the Colonel were outright confirmed when Roy led her up another flight mumbling something like, “Oh, wonderful. Went wonderfully. Lovely meeting. Very pretty meeting. Beautiful.” Upon the next doorless landing, Riza snagged the fabric at his elbow tight and cut in a near whisper, “So, this is the reason you’ve been daydreaming and slacking off all day - my choice of soap, Colonel?” Roy’s jaw went ever so slack as he asked dumbly,  “Oh, you’ve noticed that, have you?” His Lieutenant gave him a searing look that told Roy not only had she noticed, but as a result, his dreaming had increased her personal workload tenfold, twelvefold, and again ten times over. Roy winced a little, utterly caught, because that same treacherous glare also made it clear that she knew that he knew his dalliances had increased her workload tenfold, twelvefold, and again ten times over. And, yet the Colonel had continued to indulge himself in whatever it was he found more interesting at her most visible expense. Riza snatched the sad excuse of a notepad from the Colonel’s hands and flipped it to read his collections from the meeting just concluded. As suspected, the page was filled with quite a few spirals, and squiggles, and tucked in the corner was the scribbled word, Lavender? Riza blinked, and realized she should have taken the seat opposite from him at that long conference table rather than the one directly at his side, “Should I ask what is so captivating about flowers and spices, Colonel?” 

Roy’s smirk was a touch too dangerous, however much he attempted to contain it, “I think you are far too clever for such a question, Lieutenant. Flowers and spices are plenty captivating.”

The Catalina-declared asshat even dared to inch much too close to her, then proceeded to wink knowingly. Again.”Such lovely, pretty things, after all”

Riza took a measured two steps back on the landing. feeling oh-so light-headed. Yet, she grit her teeth resolutely and resisted her damned blush as if her life depended on it, “That is that then. I will be changing my soap, Colonel. I will not enable you on whatever escapades you have unfolding in your head whilst I am out here in the real world, picking up your slack and chaperoning  your unruly behavior.”

Riza couldn’t decide whether to rage or swoon every time he smiled at her like that, much less winked. And, frankly, the paradox put her on edge and made an adversary out of her that Riza was certain the Colonel would grow regret. Her Colonel, in an appropriate response, sighed heavily, turning and trudging upwards once more. Riza followed at a safe distance. “Very well, Lieutenant. Forgive me, truly. Today was simply a much too blissful reprieve from the normal daydreams. You know, blood and sand and gunshots. Fire. All that terrible nonsense.” Riza stopped cold on their ascent. It took Roy but a moment to notice her stillness before he turned, gripped the railing, and titled his head in question. He expected a lashing to be honest when he stopped to face her. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised to see Riza stuck between a grimace and a smile as if she was trying too hard to fight off a snicker that would be ill-placed with any other company, “Sir, are you sincerely using your post-traumatic flashbacks as a tactic to manipulate the type of soap I use?” He exhaled a small laugh and shook his head, “As a manipulation tactic, no, Lieutenant, never. As an explanation why I so prefer the soap you use now, I suppose so.” Riza watched his eyes soften and sadden from her steps below him. Roy smiled despite the demons looming in the far beyond, “And, only because I know you would understand what I mean.” 

Roy watched Riza’s brilliant brown eyes blink into such impossible tenderness, of which he knew they were so consistently capable. 

For her scolding and lectures and structure and rigidity, his Lieutenant was certainly regarded as an expert. She mindfully kept their unit in line while Roy foolishly daydreamed pulling her aside, tucking his nose into her neck, and holding her close, hand on the small of her back, and staying there for however long she might allow. In that same vein, Hawkeye could have chastised him, criticized, judged, and condemned him. He certainly earned it here, Roy could admit, for more than one reason, practical, moral, or otherwise. 

Yet the Colonel knew that his Lieutenant would understand, against all odds. For her kindness and gentleness and compassion, Riza was matched by none. It was the very sacred piece of her person that the lavender bergamot something or other reflected most genuinely for him. “I will save it for special occasions then, Colonel” Riza resolved, her heart perhaps skipping one beat too many in their moment of harmony there on the stairs, in the quiet. She resisted the reflection on her most human fear. After all, how many fine gentlemen would realistically stay after I can remember the face of every person I’ve ever killed? Riza Hawkeye swallowed the knowledge that despite Rebecca’s protests on the matter, she had always known only one person, one suitor, who would have always stayed a moment longer past that ugly confession. Perhaps even one or two more horrible truths after, finishing dinner with her and coaxing her drifting mind back from their heavy and harrowing past, sand and ink and all, to snicker about something simple and silly in the present.

Riza sighed, smiled gently, and rolled her eyes at her Colonel’s obnoxiously charming smirk of pure satisfaction. It was a victory she was willing to concede. She proceeded up the steps toward the next flight, pointedly staying in front of him. “You are a saint, Hawkeye,” he exhaled, following close behind. “Well, I do bend the rules for you quite often, don’t I, Sir?” she said softly. “Oh yes, Lieutenant” he grinned and took a deep breath of lavender bergamot bliss, “I’ve humbly come to expect it.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- a/n I took a shower with a new soap bar from Lush, heard these sweet idiots flirting in my head, and they wouldn’t shut up until I finished this. It was a nice break, but back to Four tomorrow. dfsjdg;lksjdg; lsagj;saldjgal  P.S. I very much like the headcanon that I have now that if Roy is having a particularly difficult day, Riza will purposefully take her leave and go to the gun range for the only purpose to be able to shower with her soap and return to the office. She walks in, sits down, maybe her long hair down, air drying. Roy would instantly be cured and say something like “Thank you, Lieutenant.” without being prompted. Havoc or whoever else present would give them both a look, reasonably confused and insist he elaborate.  Riza would say nothing. Roy would be already too far gone to do anything but look up and mumble,, “Hm? Oh…Did I say something?” I’m so proud I didn’t turn that head canon into a 30 page novel, aren’t you?  I swear tg, I’m the fucking worst.  

[greatwesternway]

Duck v. James

On this most glorious Duck Day, I would like to talk about perhaps my favorite Duck related topic: his supposed rivalry with James.

Now I thought this was the brain child of some enterprising individual on the writing staff of the CGI iteration of the show. The finer nuances of this dynamic certainly are, but the very beginnings of this concept are actually in one of Christopher Awdry's entries to The Railway Series, James and the Diesel Engines' "Crossed Lines":

"Toby has two cabs," remarked Duck, "and he gets on all right."

"Toby's just a little engine," scoffed James. "If an important engine like me didn't know which way to turn, what would The Railway come to?"

---

"I suppose it must be difficult to know which way to go when you've got two cabs," whispered a voice, "but to go two ways at once with only one cab - that really is something!"

I don't think C. Awdry quite had the shape of it; Duck is just the convenient implied speaker here because if there is one thing Duck enjoys, it is watching Vicious Sodor Karma come to pass. Man loves to see some justice served (see also "Domeless Engines", "Pop Goes the Diesel", "Bulgy", "Scaredy Engines").

But there is one fine point here that is pretty clear right from this very early start: if there is indeed a rivalry, it is one-sided. Duck is either unaware of it or, more likely, does not care to participate in it. Look at that first illustration: James is fully engaged with this debate whereas Duck gives nary a fuck. Does getting into a pissing match with James help get his work done? No? Then he's not interested.

And why should he be? Duck is secure in and content with his standing in the world. He knows exactly who and what he is. He's proud of his past and happy with his present. He aspires to nothing.

That last part would be a little sad for a person, but for an engine that's practically a state of nirvana. To be able to get out and work every day without wanting for more? I would actually go so far as to say that Duck already has more than he ever anticipated having and he has earned this by recognizing himself as only a part of a larger whole, like a bee in a beehive ironically enough in respect to James.

Compare to James who always wants more. James is constantly trying to differentiate himself from the rest of the fleet. His being painted red was a rejection of the railway's livery at the time. In a way, it's a symbolic rejection of the railway itself. James does not want to be a team player or a part of the group. He wants his successes to be his alone (and, possibly, his failures as well).

In The Adventure Begins, James speaks of wanting to have a branch line, expecting to be given one any day now. He thinks, ideally, he should only be pulling coaches and complains when asked to pull anything else. He feels entitled to the best jobs, but only because he is splendid and red, the only thing James has ever done that he considers an accomplishment. What James aspires to be is Gordon, who gets to pull the Express because he's big and grand.

The thing about being a train though, is that you are what you are and aside from minor mechanical improvement, you are only ever going to be what you are. And James is not, nor will he ever be, a Gordon.

What James actually is... is Duck. (Or Edward, which if Duck does aspire to anything, it's to be like Edward). James is faster, but otherwise he and Duck occupy roughly equal places on the roster for what work they can do and what they're built for. And knowing that he is more or less the same as a boxy tank engine with a dull green paint job who's happy to shunt in the yard and yet has been given everything James feels entitled to as a splendid red tender engine... well, it hits a nerve right in the delicate train feefees, don't it? It's hard to watch this guy happily going about his business unbothered by the obvious and grave injustice occurring between them.

That's why James is tryin' to start shit in "Duck in the Water".

All trying to reverse engineer Duck into feeling slighted to have to a goods train. "It's a shame you've been stuck with a goods train, Duck, but I suppose somebody has to pull cars." If Duck is unhappy with his lot in life, then maybe James can feel a little less insecure in his. It's an inverse proportion! Clearly!

But his name's Duck and he don't give a fuck, so he just returns that shit right to sender. "Oh? I thought you sometimes pull cars too."

What can James say to that apart from, "yeah, but shut up"?

This is actually a great moment too because it calls back to one of Duck's earliest character traits, that he does not respond to teasing or attempts to demean him. He simply does not give it the time of day. He is immune, barring certain specific circumstances (he did get upset in "Donald's Duck" when Donald said he was quacking on about his branch line, but that was Donald whose opinion he cares more about.)

Anyway, imagine you're a delicate little train like James who tried to drag this sandwich of a tank engine down to your level and he just ignored your shit. Maybe in a way you are unpleasantly used to being ignored, by much bigger and grander engines who in your estimation at least might be entitled to ignore you like that. And now - now! - Sir Topham Hatt is coming and he says you gotta leave your coaches to go pull this guy who refused to acquiesce to your train bullshit out of a puddle. Shitsux, but surely this is an opportunity to pay Duck out a little? Now he's relying on James to come rescue him.

But nope. Even in vulnerability, Duck does not let James get to him. James tells his little "I thought ducks liked water" joke (again) and Duck just rolls his eyes. Even gave him a little smile 'cause there's a joke he's never heard before! The bit about his real name might have been meant to ruin it a little, but Duck's still not invested in whatever James is trying to make happen here. All he cares about is expediting his return to work.

Then of course the knocked-over signal causes a massive clusterfuck, a four engine pile up because James couldn't wait for Rocky to secure his crane arm. And James has to own up to all of this happening because he was so desperate to get back to his blessed coaches that he tried to make Duck jealous of that morning.

If ever there was a time to bust out the ol' "There's only two ways of doing this, the Great Western Way or the wrong way", that time is now, right?

But Duck doesn't do that. Duck loves seeing Vicious Sodor Karma enact justice, but justice is also measured and fair. It is Enough that James is gettin' a dressing down from Hatt and that he had to admit that he caused all this confusion and delay and that he has to pull Duck's cars until Duck can pull them himself again. To kick James while he's down, to tell him the precise Way in which all of this should have been done, it'd be too much. It would risk invoking Duck's own helping of Sodor Karma, in fact.

This is distinct from a situation where the offending party talked some shit before they went out, got hoist on their own petard, and now they need to be informed that the irony of the situation is being observed, like as in "Domeless Engines" and "Crossed Lines". In actually admitting that all of this was his fault rather than trying to slink away unnoticed, James acknowledged he was actin' a fool. Duck therefore does not feel the need to rub it in.

Even though this really would be the PERFECT time to hear about the Great Western Way.

Wild that in the very next episode, James is even more egregious in his instigatin' train bullshit.

In "Duck and the Slip Coaches", James is dismissive of Duck's stories about his past on the Great Western Railway, then steals a bit of that past to try and earn himself recognition.

And this actually hurts! It's not a dumb little jibe that Duck can brush off. James literally stole his work history, the thing that Duck is most proud of. The very work history that James called "silly" the night before (silly being about the worst insult in the world as a train). And James had the absolute gall to look right at him while taking credit for his idea.

(And as an aside, what the fuck was up with everyone else cheering James on for his brilliant idea? They all called his ass out when he lied about Henry dreaming that he promised to take the Flying Kipper that one time but they just let him take credit for some shit none of them had ever heard of until last night? Fuckin' rood. I see how it is.)

But like I said, Duck earned everything he's got by being a team player. He's got beehive brain, and it means that even when logically he should want to sabotage James or even just let him wreck himself through his own hubris, Duck's motivation is always the overall success of the railway, not personal gain.

Had Duck never come to Sodor, where there are far fewer engines and its much easier to distinguish oneself, he probably never would have received the recognition that he does currently. As such, Duck never really had any expectations that he should be acknowledged personally. So even though he knows this was his idea, that James does not deserve to benefit or succeed in using it, Duck nonetheless gives James advice rather than just letting him fail. After all, slip coaches are also dangerous if not used correctly and passengers are more important than what idea was whose.

But James is as James does. He rolls his eyes and blows Duck off and immediately gets his face shoved in a heaping helping of Sodor Karma. He slows down out of vanity, the last slip coach bumps into the back of his train, and all his passengers are jostled. And of course, Sir Topham Hatt is there to see it and hear everyone's complaints about what a Bad Railway it was. James gets yelled at, the slip coaches refuse to work with him, and Duck is able to swoop in and save the day. It all comes out that Duck knows how to use the slip coaches, has an established rapport with these exact ones and - since James didn't admit what he did himself - Duck even gets to let slip (oi oi oi) that he was the one who told James about them in the first place.

And then everybody cheered and James died mad about it.

The hilarious and tragic thing about all this is, everything Duck has that James is jealous of... nearly all of it is a direct result of James' initial rejection of the NWR livery. Without James' pursuit of individuality and distinction on the railway, Duck probably is not afforded his GWR livery later on. Without his livery, he probably does not take it as an invitation to reassert his old railway's Ways. Without his livery, Oliver is also probably not given his livery either. Duck might have earned a branch line still, but it's almost certainly not called the Little Western without two visibly identifiable Great Westerns on it. None of that happens without James first bucking the standardized livery first.

And that's just Duck.

If you asked Duck what James ought to be proud of, it would probably be that James' choice to be painted red instead of blue resulted in the NWR's greatest feature: that nearly every engine on it is painted in a unique livery. Maddening as the disorganization and lack of cohesive identity would have been to Duck at the time, he's also seen the railway develop around this concept and he can't deny its success. It was such good marketing for passenger services that the Skarloey Railway also adopted this scheme, as did Arlesdale once it was founded. The very economy of Sodor has shifted towards tourism in response to and relies on it's individual and identifiable engine liveries now.

Arguably, James has had the greatest single impact on the railway of any engine on it. In trying to separate himself from the fleet, the fleet ended up being built around him. Everything the NWR is today is derived from that splendid red paint of his.

Duck would be reluctant to tell him though. James is already insufferable enough as it is.

Anyway, here's two subsequent occasions in which James was embarrassing himself and Duck just happened to be nearby.

Here's James sitting in the shed, watching Duck pull coaches, because he was a grump ass about not getting to pull coaches himself.

Why is Duck here? Out of all 80+ engines on Sodor, it just happened to be Duck pulling in Rocky? Yeah, of course, because James just ate shit in a real big way and Vicious Sodor Karma loves her favorite spectator.

[pushing500]

I absolutely love your Rimworld saga, I've always wanted to do something like it for one of my colonies but I'm a better writer than I am an artist. Any tips for someone not used to drawing people?

Thank you for the great stories and adorable artwork 💕

Ah, thank you so much!! I'm glad you like the Rimworld stuff, I really love making it, and I'm happy it seems to have found an audience that enjoys it.

As for art tips, here are three things I always try to remember when I'm drawing:

1. It's okay to use references!

I see a lot of people worried about art theft, tracing, and stealing, which are important issues to keep in mind. No artist wants their work stolen, and nobody wants to be accused of tracing or things like that. Certainly valid concerns for all parties.

However, I've noticed that a lot of people avoid using references because of those concerns. It's alright to use references for your artwork! You can and should look for references to practice with. It's not easy to make up every single pose from nothing, but I've seen a lot of artists give up because they can't figure poses out without looking up references, and they feel like that means they're not real artists.

I'm partial to stock photos personally. There are stock photos for every conceivable situation. Behold, one I used just yesterday:

References are good and definitely okay to use. Use them a lot! They're a wonderful way to practice, and it's much easier to make up your own poses and draw people once you're used to drawing the human form from your references.

2. Don't be afraid to be silly!

Not every piece of art needs to be a serious and carefully thought-out commentary on the nature of humanity or society or things like that. Not every piece of art needs to be beautiful, or perfect, or even comprehendible. When I first started drawing art for a Rimworld colony, I was sitting beside my little brother and watching him play. I was doodling pictures of his colonists, and do you know what I ended up with? Nothing deep and meaningful, that's for sure.

I ended up with memes. Memes that are still blu-tacked up where everybody who comes into my house can see them.

I love them. I had so much fun drawing them. That's the important bit! They're ridiculous, silly, stupid memes, and I love them so much because I loved drawing them. Have fun with your art. Don't make it a chore. Be silly. Let yourself enjoy the act of creating, even if you end up with something dumb. That's the best kind of art.

3. Do so much art! So much of it!

The old saying says practice makes perfect, and it's not entirely wrong. I don't think I have ever met someone who has ever created something and decided it was perfect, no matter how much they practised.

However, the more you practice, the better you will be. I would post pictures of my older art to demonstrate the improvement, but I still haven't quite managed to choke back the gag reflex that comes with seeing the old drawings I have tucked away.

Maybe one day, when I'm braver, I'll show you the wonky caricatures of people I used to draw, and you can see for yourself that the more you make, the better you'll get. For now, though, I shall leave you with a tiny sampling of my sketchbook collection and one (1) spooky boi:

I don't know if any of that was helpful. I'm not much of a teacher, I'm afraid, but I do wish you the best with your artistic endeavours! For what it's worth, I'd read a written story about a Rimworld game just as eagerly as I would absorb pictures of it.

Thank you for your lovely compliments, and I wish you the loveliest of days! 💕