#thank you for letting me indulge in my little peons

[selkymaiden]

🥛🥤🍅🥂🍞 for sophie and galina heh heh 😈💕💕💕

🤨 hehehe i see you!! Sorry for the late response but I like to sit and hatch things, or cook them for a while as I think of my hair-brained schemes <3 BUT THANK YOU!!!!!

Sophie first:

🥛 [MILK] What is your OC’s relationship with their biological parents like? What about their relationship with any non-biological parental figures?

Her parents are actually dead. They were murdered. That's why she ended up in G*tham, she literally was out for revenge for about uhhhhhhh. Fuck... I wanna say I killed her parents off when she was 8 and that was her driving force for revenge, which she got, at around her mid 20s I was making it. Sorry, she's still new so a lot of her story is still being made! But modern-day Sophie is in her late 30s and she's got her revenge by now. But she loved he parents and misses the time she had with them. Loved learning from them as they were well-accomplished magic users; but a lot of stuff has also been forgotten too, unfortunately. She can't remember how they look or sound anymore :/

🥤 [PARTY CUP] How does your OC feel about drama? Do they start any themselves?

OH! Okay, she actually likes to know the drama but wants NO part of it. She will go so far as to just simply stand up and walk out of the whole room, leaving the whole building if she has to. Which actually sucks for her because after she meets and starts working with [Acme truck drives past] she is suddenly part of the Batman Rogue gallery. Sort of. But either way, she likes knowing but that's it. This means she does not start anything. Or at least tries not to, because a lot of the other rogues are super fucking irritating she finds out. Also, they're like roaches they won't die and they just come back, or they act obsessive, just clinical insanity she finds out! But she'll be aight.

🍅 [TOMATO] How misunderstood is your OC? In-universe or IRL.

I don't think she's misunderstood at all. Or at least she does not play the victim to things she's done or has done, or will do. Also if someone wants to misunderstand her and her intentions then that's on them and she doesn't feel the need to correct people. Unless it's the few that she cares about. Otherwise, she's not like a nasty piece of work or had some great tragedy (at least she doesn't see losing her parents as a great tragedy at this point) befall on her to become misunderstood with how she acts. Aka turning people to stone. But those people deserve it. Most of the time.

🥂 [GLASS CHEERS] What is your OC’s 'aesthetic?’

Ohhhhhhhh, I mean I could go the easy route and say snakes. Which she does! But not just snakes. She likes history and Mythology a lot, aka the whole Medusa vibe she goes for, or her 'theme' in the city of G*tham. She's actually well-versed in the Greek pantheon as well as actual history. I like to think Maxie Zeus sort of has a crush on her. But snakes, mythology-greek centric, as well as eyes! I don't know how to explain eyes with her. But anything with eyes that are the focus like in art or films or photography she loves! Also when I tag her and the eyes are the main focus I'm like 'That's Sophie.' The petrifying magic, like Medusa, only works if you look into her eyes but she can do other fancy things with her eyes also!

🍞 [BREAD] Does your OC have any allergies? How severe are they? Do they require equipment to help them?

She does not have any allergies known! Or at least severe ones. Something mundane I've thrown in is she takes, you know, Claritin LMAO during Spring. She probably uses a nasal rinse every night before bed.

NOW GALINA'S DUMBASS (Affectionate)

🥛 [MILK] What is your OC’s relationship with their biological parents like? What about their relationship with any non-biological parental figures?

With her ma and pa it was a good relationship. Healthy in fact! But more leaning into with her father- as her father never got any sons so he picked Galina out of the three that makeup her and her sisters. So she was raised in business, finances, and hunting! While her sisters spent a lot of time with their mom. But Galina was more than happy to be with her father most of the time since she found it more interesting. She likes to learn first and foremost and he did a good job building her up to be confident in her skills when she gets older.

Now non-biological parental figures I can't say... Anyone really. Instead, I'd have to go back to biological parental figures because after her parents pass it's what she learns from her two sisters is what turns her into a little terror. That's when she learns how to finesse, how to talk to other nobility, and how to play mind games. All those things she learns from Marya and Zoya, her two older sisters, WHO learned from their mother. So it trickled back down to her in the end.

🥤 [PARTY CUP] How does your OC feel about drama? Do they start any themselves?

OH FUCK. Oh fuck... LOVES drama. And she will be the one who starts it! One of my favorite posts I've tagged her and I think the twins is this one [x] Literally the thought of Treavor inviting her to an outing without telling his brothers... Just so she shows up and ruins everything is so fucking good. And she'll be sooooo happy about it also. So loves the drama and lives for it.

🍅 [TOMATO] How misunderstood is your OC? In-universe or IRL.

This one was hard because I can see in Dunwall she'd be misunderstood as just another terrible noble. But a fallen one, so it's like 'ew' since nobility in Tyvia is like [russian revolution, goodbye romanovs] and that just reeks this person has problems and not just personal ones. But she's not the type to let it get to her, she has good armor and also money ayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. So she could play the misunderstood card or be that terrible noble or barbaric foreigner if she wanted to. But she just doesn't find it fun or entertaining so I don't think she's really misunderstood or at least she doesn't see herself as it.

🥂 [GLASS CHEERS] What is your OC’s 'aesthetic?’

At her base: books, scrolls, art, hunting- any sort of activity that will work her brain that's outside the realm of social interactions. She likes to read and learn and talk about philosophy or gray morality subjects. But it's hard to get there with her. Instead on the outside it's fashion, gossip, theater, or ballet- Anything that looks expensive but finely crafted. She adores shoes and gloves and has a lot of matching pairs of them.

🍞 [BREAD] Does your OC have any allergies? How severe are they? Do they require equipment to help them?

She's actually sensitive to certain cleaners, so she'll break out in hives if something is laundered incorrectly or with harsh chemicals. As well as fragrances make her light-headed so a lot of perfumes she'll avoid. Which is unfortunate because she knows a lot of good smells but can't stand them very long.

[sweettodo]

Lady Boss ⟿ Levi Ackerman x reader

Vanilla, somewhat of a quicky, consensual, office fucking, boss.

1,722 words

Strutting down the halls with the upmost frustration, blood boiling, your veins pulsating through your angry fists. You couldn’t fathom how you were getting blamed for something you didn’t do.

Being the ‘mistress’ or in other words overseer for these excuses of men who all thought they deserved to be at a higher- scratch that; they were too fucking stupid to be as good as me.

So what if my brother - Jean, put me in the position I’m in today, but he didn’t just let me sit on my high horse, I needed to do work. ‘Who’d she sleep with to get that promotion?’

SMACK!

“That’s what you get for being a fucking peon. Go make yourself useful like cleaning the bottom of my feet.” The group of men cease speaking. You shake off your hand, you were not afraid to discipline these fuckups.

“So-”

“Sorry what was that? Speak up!” I shout. They sigh in defeat. ‘Someone put her in a mood today’ they simultaneously think in their heads. They hated your attitude, especially on these days.

“Sorry...damn.” That’s right, you thought to yourself, you let out a sigh and continue walking quickly down the large hallway of offices, our ... business was more or less a money laundering business, we were discreet and powerful. We racked in tons of cash and had plenty of allies.

You reach the large double door, slamming your fist against them a few times, you tapped your foot in anticipation.

“Well if it isn’t the biggest fuckup of the day, actually; month.” Chairman Levi scoffs, slowly letting you into the office. He moves back to his desk and you slam the door.

“You act like this was my fault. Your men are fucking stupid.”

“Your men actually, fun fact, you’re in charge of them. Therefore my hands are clean of this mess.”

“You act like I can babysit 25 men to hold a few wads of cash.” You snort, slamming paperwork onto his desk.

“And I’ll say it again, it is not my problem.” He crosses his arms, his body leaning against the windowsill, he was too cocky. You hated him, but you knew you needed to get out of this.

“It was actually twenty five thousand... hey, what do you think you’re in here for? To yell at me for your wrongdoings? I should demote you. I might as well make that call now-”

“Wait- uh.” I didn’t think before speaking, sounding weak on the spot, he stuffs his phone back in his slacks.

“How do you intend on fixing this mess?” He stands, slowly unbuttoning his black blazer, he was so toned.

“I’m a smart woman; I’ll figure this out without your input thank you.” Such a nasty attitude, on days where you two could cut the tension with a knife, days like this where his disgust towards you strengthened. How your hateful words spewed from your mouth. You’re a woman for god’s sake, act like it.

He drops his blazer so it hangs off his chair, he wanted you to feel intimidated of what he could do to you at anytime.

“Here’s the deal-” his finger points at you lazily and it taunts you, he drops his crossed arm stance and sits in his tall leather chair, “you can come here and I’ll help you, or I’ll let Jean now how much of an incompetent bitch you are, your choice.”

You pondered, you could possible wiggle your way out of Jean finding out; Levi reaches for the desk phone and begins dialing Jeans extension to his office, your heart drops, I quickly move towards him and grab his wrist and the neck of the phone, hanging it up before it could ring.

“See, you are a smart girl, I love it when you actually listen to me.” He chuckles, I mock him and wait to be dismissed, “take that off.”

What? What the fuck was he doing, your mouth drops open in utter shock, it was a mix of a dream come true and something ripped out of an erotic novel.

“Take what off?-”

“Your shirt.” He says matter of factly, the lump in your throat freezes while he does it himself, tired of him waiting for you to strip and get down on your knees.

Painfully, he looks down at you while he unbuttons each and every blouse button, your heart pounded; he was not close enough. You shoved the dirty thoughts to the back of your head, you needed to regain power.

“What are you going to do for me Mr. Ackerman?” You hold back his hands, he smirks.

“I’ll loan you the twenty five, you just gotta remember to pay me back babe.” ‘Oh fuck yes’ you secretly became excited to his words, this meant no Jean.

You shrug off your blouse, revealing the pinkish-nude lace bra you had on, he stares in awe at your perky boobs, they sat so nice. Countless thoughts ran his head, labeling every part of your body... ‘I’ll do this, and this’

“Liking what you see Lev-”

“You think just because I’m going to fuck you; that you can call me by my first name?”

“Sorry sir.” He turned you around, forcibly holding down the side of your head against the cold desk while he took his time once again, staring at every part of your body, he was in fucking love.

His body hot, you wanted to stand up and rip his clothes off him like the feral slut you were for him. You wanted to be his little toy, do whatever you want to me sir.

“You should keep wearing skirts to work, easy access.” He rubs your butt with his tough hands, he pushes up your skirt and the matching panties gave it away.

“Sir, let me help you.” You stand quickly and he takes a tiny step back, allowing you to speedily unbutton and you practically rip it off him, god he was so incredibly sculpted. As they say, god spent extra time on this one.

“Stop drooling,” you snap out of your trance and fiddle with his belt, unhooking it. He throbbed, his meme er begged to be fucked by you and Levi was too excited to see you.. and hear you, and taste you.

He doesn’t allow you to drop to your knees, ‘you’re too good for that’ he told himself, he wanted to see you fall apart beneath him.

“Just hurry up and fuck me then.” His eyes widen, his smirk grows as he pushes you back over onto the desk, bending you in half while he quickly moved your panties to the side. He was about to indulge.

You let out a squeal the moment he pushes himself into you, you sucked him in, he knew it was all too dangerous to fuck you now, you were going to have him pussy whipped.

It seems as if he has more and more to stuff you with; reaching spots previous men couldn’t reach, surpassing all nerves that you even knew existed.

“Wow- Sir.” You’re taken aback, you gasp when his hips finally clap against your ass and thighs, he was in all the way, you were fucking stuffed.

Swears fly from Levi’s mouth as he takes time with the first few thrusts, pumping out and back in; in and out in and out.

“I could be in this pussy ass day, my god, you’re clenching so hard.” He groans, he picks up the pace as he pulls apart your ass cheeks to fill you up as much as possible. Your spongey walls contacted and gushed around his big cock while your eyes rolled tot he back of your head in complete pleasure.

“Hmm it feels so good sir, please keep fucking me like this, I need it.” You moan, he follows your orders, he needed to move your position, he needed easier access to this goddess of a body, goddess of a pussy.

You both went into the office separate days of the week, rarely seeing each other.

“You know-” Levi pounds into you, “if our deal upholds, I need to be able to fuck you anytime I want.” His breathing ragged.

“Yes sir I understand.” You moan, mouth jammed open, your legs slowly wanting to give out as he takes you to different heights, this was gonna be a earth shattering orgasm.

He bit onto his bottom lip to stop himself from sounding like a moaning mess under your spell, you were dripping wet, it felt like a palace between your walls, silk sheets, sliding in and out, not easily. You were so tight he didn’t know what to do with you.

“S-sir I’m about to come.” You whine, pushing yourself against his cock, he lets out a tense breath of air, not expecting you to do the work for him.

“Then come.” Levi grabs the other hip, kicking apart your legs further and fucking you senselessly, you were a drooling mess.

Your body contacts once again, he slows down slightly while still fucking you hard with those powerful thrusts. You cream all over his dick, he’s starstruck by feeling those spasms and seeing your helpless body grasp behind her onto your wrist, it was enough to send you flying over the edge.

You release your seed into her, holding still for a few moments and pulling out making sure it seeps into every crevice in her pussy. Seeing both her and your come drip from her beautiful cat. It was a sight to see alright.

Levi’s muscles are weak, he needs to catch his breath, sit down. You wore him out so good just from those ten minutes of him tearing you apart. The same goes for you, you relax your body and breathe heavily whilst slowly picking up your panties from your ankles and pulling them up, tugging down your skirt and trying to limit your leg movement, afraid of not being able to walk.

You two stood in silence, redressing and regaining composure, “you have a very nice dick sir.” You purr in his ear, he thinks about other things to prevent him from getting hard again.

Glancing at his watch, he knows he’s off the clock, “come on, you’re coming home with me.” He grabs his belongings and you do the same. You were absolutely thrilled.

“Yes boss.” Giggling, you follow behind him closely, halls empty so no one would suspect a thing.

[doing-all-write]

act two, scene two

Pairing: College!Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe is in your Acting 101 class and you’re never quite sure if your flirty relationship is just pretend or the real thing. Then, you’re given the scene you’ll have to present during your final...

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: SMUT (don’t interact if you’re under 18 please!), swearing, drinking and me fantasizing about how adorable and dorky college!Joe would be. 

A/N: Between working from home and social distancing myself, your girl has SO MUCH free time so GET READY FOR LOTS OF WRITING!!! I hope everyone is doing okay during these Weird Fucking Times but here’s some soft and smutty Joe to get you through! 

Thanks to @fairestkillerqueenofall​, @mrhoemazzello​, and @diasimar​ for the inspiration and for being the best dang #LizardLadies around 💖

💖💖As always likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💖💖

“Room 102...room 102...room 102...there you are.” Realizing she’d been mumbling to herself underneath her breath, her (Y/E/C) eyes flitted over the hall, making sure no one had heard her talking to herself. 

Heaving a sigh, she gave a little shimmy, shaking off the nervous energy that was buzzing under her skin like bees and opened the door to the classroom. 

Well, not a real classroom. It was a blackbox. When she had chosen her major for college, she couldn’t completely get rid of the dream where she majored in theatre and got to spend her life doing something that she loved. So, when her counselor had asked her, she’d given a double major. Something “practical” and theatre. She knew if she didn’t have that creative outlet, her world would become drab and gray. 

Walking into the room, the sounds of murmured conversations flooded her eardrums, the old wood floors sending shock waves up her calves with every “clunk” of her heeled boots. She knew the next few moments would be crucial. 

Choosing a seat. 

She knew that wherever she sat today would be her seat for the rest of the semester. With the pivotal task hanging over her, she scanned the bodies that were already crammed into seats. The first row was filled with girls with bouncy curls, long legs, cute sundresses, all of them loudly clamoring to get information from the girl in the middle holding court with her story of how she had met the cast of Mean Girls by the stage door over the summer. 

In the last row were a few kids dressed all in black, heads down, beanies firmly planted as they scribbled into moleskine notebooks. 

In the middle, random pockets of students, mostly keeping to themselves, one or two had struck up conversations asking the basic questions, “What’s your major” “What did you do over the summer” “How embarrassing do you think this class will be” etc. 

Her eyes lit upon a boy sitting toward the end of a row in the middle of the desks.  All she could make out was his ginger hair as he rooted around in his backpack. It was sticking up in several directions, like he constantly ran his fingers through it. She couldn’t help thinking she’d like to run her fingers through it one day. Taking a deep breath, she decided the middle, end of the row was the best spot for her. Hitching her backpack higher on her shoulder, she started climbing the stairs, keeping an eye on him as he was now elbow deep in his backpack, muttering to himself. 

Sliding into the seat one down from him, she swung her hair over her shoulder, aiming a small smile at him as he paused in his actions to stare at her with wide eyes. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she ducked her head to pull out her own notebook, letting her hair fall in front of her face to hide the blush climbing from her neck up into her cheeks. 

Stupid. Joe scolded himself as he shook himself from his dazed state. Why he didn’t just smile back at her was beyond him. He chalked it up to being stunned by her beauty and being slightly confused why someone so beautiful was paying any attention to him. 

That, and he was pretty hungover. 

“Dammit,” he muttered to himself as he realized that he must have forgotten a pencil, the most basic school instrument, in his haste to get out the door and make it to class on time. 

“Do you, um, do you need to borrow a pencil?” His eyes darted up to meet her (Y/E/C) ones and let a smile grow over his face (finally, she thought) as he nodded. Smiling back, she quickly darted a hand into her backpack only to pull out a pencil pouch covered in cacti. He felt his smile grow bigger at how cute it was. 

“Here you go.” She handed him a mechanical pencil and he accepted it with a thanks, “I’ll give it back at the end of class, promise.” 

She waved him off, “No, no. Don’t worry about it, I accidentally bought a pack of 500 pencils so you’re doing me a favor by taking one off my hands.” 

Joe cocked his head, “How do you end up with 500 pencils?” She opened her mouth but before she could defend herself, the door swung open and a woman draped in what looked like the whole curtain section of a home goods store came striding into the room, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. 

“Thespians! Thespians! Thespians! Listen up! Your start to a long and lucrative career in the arts begins...immediately.” She proclaimed as she swanned onto the stage in front of them, hands waving, the many rings she wore reflecting the stage lights all over the room, creating a make-shift disco ball. 

“Either she has a lisp and called us all lesbians or I signed up for the wrong class.” Joe whispered as he leaned over to her. Her mouth quirked up in a smirk as she finished dating the page she was writing on in her notebook. Joe glanced down to see she had written the date and the name of the class in pink pen and felt a surge of adoration at her adorable actions. 

As class continued, (Y/N) thanked her lucky stars at her chosen seat. This boy next to her was cute and funny, which was a lethal combination for her, but part of her was worried that she may have something on her face, considering the way he had just stared at her with no reaction for a long time when she initially sat next to him. 

For the rest of class, they kept stealing glances at each other, eyes sometimes meeting, smiles exchanged when it happened, as Professor Lily waxed poetic on the arts and why theatre is the best thing one can do to “expand the mind, the body and most importantly, the heart.” 

She had let her mind wander to what it would be like to run her fingers through her seat mate's hair but was snapped back to the present when Lily started talking about their final. 

“Now. For the final, I will be assigning you and a partner a scene to perform for us at the end of the semester. This will be completely random but I’d like to get it done now so you and your scene partner can start thinking about it and preparing. Acting is all about the nuance, the tiny details you can make a whole meal out of.” She fluttered down from the stage, pairing people at random. 

(Y/N) suddenly found herself desperately wishing that she and the boy next to her would be made partners. 

Joe clenched his hands into fists as he jiggled his leg up and down, hoping beyond hope that he and the girl next to him would be paired up. 

As Professor Lily came to them, her eyes softened, gesturing a hand grandly to Joe she proclaimed, “Mister…” letting it trail off so he could fill in the blank. 

“Mazzello. Joe Mazzello.” she nodded sagely as she gestured to the girl next to him, “and Miss…”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)” she promptly filled in. 

“You two shall be working together.” As she floated down the stairs she couldn’t help but indulge a tiny smile as she considered the scene she would give them to perform. 

Turning to Joe, (Y/N) smiled, “Hey partner.” 

“Hey partner.” Joe returned in a bad southern accent as he pretended to hitch up suspenders. 

“I don’t know why you’re in this class, it seems like you don’t need a lot of acting help.” she laughed as she closed her notebook, twisting in her seat to face Joe head on. Smirking, he draped an arm over the back of his chair, “I’m just here to show everyone else how it’s done. I’m very generous like that.” 

“You’re too good to us peons. How can we ever repay you?” 

“By not making me look like an ass during the final.”

“No promises on that front.” she deadpanned as she closed her notebook, tucking it back into her bag that was covered in patches and pins.

“You think you have enough hardware on your bag?” 

Pushing her hair behind her ear, her eyes flicked up to meet his as a smile grew over her face, “Honestly? No. I have a problem.”  She shrugged as she straightened up. 

Joe smiled back as he scooted his chair closer to her, “The first step is admitting you have a problem so I’m proud of you for taking that first step.” 

Rolling her eyes, she contemplated the boy before her. His eyes were bright as he stared boldly back at her. He never sat still, even now, his leg was bouncing up and down like a maniac. It made her want to reach a hand out and settle it on his thigh, hoping to translate some calm from her body to his just through her touch but knew that would be a step too forward at this stage. 

“Well listen, I think this partnership is going to work but like you said, I don’t want to look like an ass, when are you free?”

~~~

Weeks had passed. The glow of those first few easy classes had passed into rigorous studying, hours filled with homework and group projects with everyone trying to figure out when they could fit in sleep and socializing. 

With finals looming closer, the semester had started taking its toll on (Y/N). Her classes all bled together, as did the piles of reading she had every night. But even when she started googling how much people would pay for feet pictures, she never dreaded her acting class. It was her favorite part of the week. For 50 minutes, three times a week, she got to do what she loved most. Even Professor Lily’s eccentricity had become a balm and reminded her to stop taking everything so seriously.

 As Lily had put it once “you all need to stop being so serious, no one likes an actor who takes their work too seriously. Look at Jared Leto!” 

That had snapped them out of their melancholy. 

As (Y/N) walked into the Black Box, fidgeting with the strap of her backpack, she cursed the fact that she had chosen to wear a dress, considering how chilly it was in the classroom but as she climbed the stairs to her seat next to Joe, it was worth it to see his eyes light up when they fell on her form. As the weeks had passed, they had struck up an easy reparatie. A lot of times, (Y/N) had no idea if they were really flirting or just play-flirting. It was easy to get swept up in believing that the sparks between them were real enough to explode into something more but then Joe would look away or she’d get too in her head and the moment would be lost and they’d go back to their usual friendly banter. 

The scene Lily had given them definitely didn’t help her confusion.

~~~

“Act two, scene two.” Joe wiggled his eyebrows at her as she walked down the row of chairs at the start of their third class together. 

Quirking an eyebrow at him, she slowly lowered into her chair, “Okay?” 

Leaning forward, Joe raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end, adding an even crazier level of insanity to his look as he strained forward, trying to make her understand, “Act two, scene two.” he hissed again. 

“Mazzello, did you have a stroke? Those words mean nothing to me…” her voice drifted off as Lily’s ethereal form materialized in front of her, “I believe Mr. Mazzello is referring to the scene I assigned you for your final.” Pulling a stack of papers from within the folds of her scarfs, she grandly laid them on (Y/N)’s desk and floated back to the front of the room, where she began lecturing. 

Cutting her eyes over to Joe’s she was surprised to see some hesitancy in them as he nodded at her to flip through their pages. Shrugging, she leaned forward and felt her breath catch in her throat as she recognized the lines. 

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Her head whipped up and met Joe’s. 

Joe hadn’t realized how nervous he had been to see her reaction to the scene they had been given until he saw a spark in her eyes and her lips curled into a smile as he held her gaze, letting a wink drop at her. Giggling, she turned to rustle through her backpack and Joe almost dropped the highlighter she tossed at his chest.  

“Well? Get highlighting Romeo, we have some romantic tension to work on.” she whispered as she popped the cap off her own highlighter. 

~~~

As Lily dismissed them all for the day, Joe groaned and let his forehead bang on his desk as she calmly continued packing up her things. 

“What’s wrong, Joey?” her only reply as Joe continued to huff out sigh after sigh to get a reaction from her. 

“I can’t do it anymore, (Y/N). The pressure, it’s getting to me. It’s all too much.”

“What? The pressure of being Lily’s favorite student? Or just the weight of having to carry every scene we do in class?”

“Yes.” He moaned as he rolled his head to the side, only one eye visible as he stared at her trying to hold back a smirk at his dramatics. “Don’t laugh at me, I’m distraught.”

“Too distraught to rehearse tonight?” 

“Yes.” came the muffled reply as he buried his head in his arms.

“I have a new bottle of wine, a fresh bag of goldfish and I booked the auditorium.”

“Okay, not as distraught anymore. I think I can make it.” 

“Thought so.” she said as she patted him on the shoulder. 

~~~

“What's in a name? That which we call a rose. By any other name would smell as sweet,” her voice flowed over Joe like the first breeze of spring. He was sure that if anyone was to watch them rehearsing, the only note they’d give Joe was to “tone down” the mooning he felt himself doing as he watched (Y/N) act.  

His eyes couldn’t radiate anymore love than they already were. He almost felt embarrassed for himself but figured if they really wanted to pass this class then, maybe over the top was better. 

As (Y/N) finished up the last part of her lines, she felt her cheeks heat up as Joe locked her in place with his ardent gaze. She felt a smile tug at her lips as his own grew wider as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her crossed arms on the top of the ladder she was standing on. 

Clasping the ladder with both hands, Joe pushed his own body forward as he delivered his next few lines, knowing the smile growing across his face was getting out of hand but not being able to stop it. Her eyes were dancing with mirth as her smile blossomed. 

They had set up their stuff in the middle of the stage, (Y/N) pulling out a bottle of wine with two red solo cups (“You couldn’t find anything classier than Red Solo cups?” “Do you want some cheap wine or not?” “I never said I didn’t want it (Y/N).”) and Joe flinging his body onto the ground, complaining about everything he had due until she’d threatened to spill the whole bottle on his face. With that threat looming large, Joe had scoured backstage to find something they could use as a balcony. 

She’d almost jumped out of her skin when Joe had pulled the ladder to the middle of the stage with enough noise to wake the dead, as was his M.O. 

They’d been rehearsing their scene for the past hour. They had their lines word perfect, they knew their blocking but every time they got to the end, they both felt the urge to kiss each other; but as their characters or as themselves was still up in the air. Each time they spoke their last lines, the silence would hang, the air crackling between them until one, or both of them, would pull away and ask if they should “run it one more time?” 

Their argument being that maybe running it “one more time” would unlock something MORE in their words and their actions. 

They both agreed that Lily would really approve of that decision. 

“Parting is such sweet sorrow! That I shall say good night till it be morrow…” (Y/N) breathed out as their eyes locked together, both of them moving forward infinitesimally.

 It’s finally going to happen. Her heart leaped into her throat as Joe glanced down at her lips but then, he blushed and cleared his throat. Turning away, he asked if there was more wine. 

Blinking herself from the haze, she nodded numbly, stepping down from the ladder only to be stopped by Joe’s hand by her side, “May I help you down from your balcony, fair Juliet?” 

Giggling, she slipped her hand into Joe’s, marveling at how well they fit together as she stepped down from the ladder, turning only to be face to face with Joe again.

Looking down at her, Joe smirked, “Hello there.” 

“Hi” she whispered, looking up at Joe through her eyelashes. It made Joe want to fall to his knees and promise her anything she wanted if she just always looked at him like that. 

This time, she was the one to break away first, grabbing his cup from the ground as she sauntered over to the bottle, sweating underneath the stage lights.  

Handing it back to him they both took a long sip. Bringing his cup down, Joe scrunched his face, “Jesus, this wine is awful.” 

“Grow up Mazzello, it’s good for you. Plus it was only $5, what did you expect?” 

Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, he finished the last gulp of wine, cocking an eyebrow at (Y/N), “Want to run it again?”

Throwing her head back she dramatically finished her wine, Joe taking the opportunity to admire her throat and thinking how it would look covered in hickies he left. Shaking himself, he realized the wine must have loosened him up more than he thought. 

“Let’s do this one more time, I’m going to be the best damn Juliet this school has ever seen.” she proclaimed as she scrambled up the ladder again, looking back over her shoulder at Joe, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. 

Joe chuckled as he got into place underneath her. By the time he nodded at her to start the scene he felt his heart expand as he looked up at her, her hair glowing underneath the lights, her eyes dreamily looking out over the horizon, talking about how in love she was with him.

Well, not me me, but my character. She’s a good actress, it’s easy to get swept up in the drama of it all, he reasoned with himself. 

As the scene got closer and closer to the end, he made herself promise he wouldn’t wimp out of kissing her. The wine they’d consumed left him feeling a little braver. So, as she breathed out her last line, bidding Joe farewell, and they locked eyes it was the wine that helped push the words past Joe’s lips. 

“We should probably practice kissing, huh?” 

Before the last word had passed his lips, (Y/N) reached out, grasping the collar of the worn gray t-shirt he was wearing and pulled him to her, crashing her lips against his. 

His arms reached up, wrapping around her, pulling her closer to him as their lips fit together perfectly. Winding a hand through her hair, he felt like if he were to be struck dead in the next moment, he would die happy. 

As her hands interlocked behind Joe’s neck, she got the feeling she had done this a million times before and would do it a million more times. 

When they finally pulled away, they both were breathing heavily, her forehead leaning against Joe’s as they looked at each and giggled, “I think if we bring that kind of heat to the performance they’ll fail us for being too graphic.” Joe breathed out as she laughed, planting another quick kiss to his lips. “Yeah but, it’s worth it.” she murmured as she blinked up at Joe through her eyelashes. Joe groaned as he pressed his lips against hers again, “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that right?” Her only response was to deepen the kiss as Joe growled against her mouth. 

“You know, we’re the only ones in this auditorium, and we’ll be the only ones in here for the next three hours…” Joe let his voice trail off as he searched (Y/N)’s face to see if she was into this idea. Her widening eyes and the way she scrambled down the ladder, pulling Joe down with her, was the only indication he needed. 

As she hit the ground, her head swiveled, trying to find the best place for them to have a private moment together. Tugging her towards the other side of the stage, she turned her head, only to be met with a large couch that had been pushed backstage after the last play. It was hidden by the curtains so if someone were to walk in, they wouldn’t immediately be seen but it was still fairly exposed which sent a shiver up her spine. 

As Joe took a seat on the couch, he pulled her down to his lap, shooting a smile at her, “C’mere,” he whispered as he pulled her down to his lips, pushing her hair over her shoulders as he nipped at her earlobe before he pressed a line of kisses down her neck. Moaning softly, she started grinding into Joe’s lap, feeling the outline of his cock through his jeans, causing both of them to moan. 

Joe halfheartedly tried to shush her, “Shhh, we need to be quiet...even though you moaning is probably the hottest thing I’ll ever hear in my whole life.” 

Those words only made her throw her head back and moan louder. Grabbing the back of her neck, Joe craned his neck up to mash his lips against hers in a desperate effort to quiet her. His hands moved from their grip on her waist to travel up to grasp her tits, letting his own moan slip out as he gently rubbed the pads of his thumbs over her nipples. 

“Yeah, baby? You like that?” she whispered as he moaned again, leaning forward to suck on the peak of her nipple through the fabric of her dress. Grinding her hips harder into Joe’s cock practically had her seeing stars, she hadn’t realized how wound up she was or how long she’d wanted this to happen. 

Joe’s mouth continued working on her chest as his hands travelled to her ass, grabbing it, giving it a light smack, then a harder one when she gasped and whispered, “harder” against his lips which almost had Joe cumming in his jeans like a twelve year old. 

Feeling Joe’s hand slip from her ass to her thigh, his fingers dancing up and under the hem of the skirt of her dress, caused her breath to hitch as his fingers ran along the edge of her panties. 

“These feel very hot.” he looked up at her with glazed over eyes. 

Leaning forward, pressing her chest into Joe’s she whispered, “They are, but I was considering not wearing panties at all which I think would have been much hotter.” 

Joe gulped audibly as he bobbed his head up and down, his fingers hooking into her panties, pulling them to the side as he ghosted a knuckle up and down her folds. He stared at her with wide eyes, “Damn, are you really that wet for me, sweetheart?” Nodding, she bit her lip, rocking her hips over Joe’s knuckle, relishing how it produced that familiar tugging sensation in her gut.  

Joe smirked when he saw how much she wanted him. Slowly, he inserted a finger inside her, marveling how easily it slipped in and how it made her fling her head back and groan in a way that would have caused them considerable trouble if anyone was near the auditorium. 

“I’m almost scared to insert another finger just in case you start screaming.” Joe laughed as he made a come hither motion with his finger, causing her body to go limp as she babbled about how badly she needed a second finger to cum. 

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want,” he smirked as he leaned up to whisper in her ear, “besides, I want to see what you look like when you cum for me anyway.” she groaned as Joe slowly slipped a second finger into her folds. 

The heat that was building in her core was licking up her sides, rising through her, causing her hips to jerk over Joe’s fingers as they managed to find every sensitive spot in her cunt, hurling her closer and closer to an orgasm. Joe was still moving his fingers inside her, mouth open as he watched her eyes flutter close, hair falling over her shoulders as she pushed herself to her orgasm. He was in complete awe of her. 

“That’s it baby, let go. Let go for me. Want you to cum all over my fingers, I want to taste you so badly…” he murmured into her ear as she bent forward, resting her hands on the back of the couch as she rode Joe’s fingers into oblivion.

Joe felt her walls clench around his fingers and wished it was his cock they were closing around but damn if this wasn’t still one of the best feelings in the world. Moaning, she choked out, “Joe…’m close.” Bringing his lips to her ear and his other hand to her ass, he gave it a sharp smack, pulling another moan out of her as he growled, “Then cum for me, baby girl.” 

With those last two words and one more stroke of Joe’s fingers, she squeezed her eyes closed as her orgasm pulsed through her body, first in intense waves then a gentle lapping at her consciousness, pulling her back into the present. Feeling Joe’s arms wrapped around her as he whispered how amazing she was in her ear. Pulling back, she felt the dumb smile grow over her face and Joe’s own face lit up with how blissed out she looked. 

“That good, huh?” She could only nod. Laughing, Joe brought up the two fingers that had been inside her. She saw how slick they were and gulped as Joe brought them up to his mouth. Wrapping his perfect lips around them and savoring the taste of her as he brought them out of his mouth with a pop. 

“I can’t wait to do that with your cock.” She found herself blurting out. Joe’s eyes widened as hers lowered into a provocative stare. 

“If you were that loud with just my fingers, I don’t think my cock is going to make you any quieter, want to get out of here?” 

(Y/N) hopped off his lap, practically pulling him out of the auditorium to her apartment. 

~~~

They ended up getting a 95% on their final and would have gotten a 100% but their kiss was “a little too long and lingering. And Mr. Mozzallo, I distinctly saw you slip Ms. (Y/L/N) some tongue. Other than that, wonderful performance. Truly, the sparks were flying!” 

It had a place of honor on their fridge in their shared apartment.

[dontshootmespence]

Enjoy The Show

Summary: Lilith is under extreme pressure to free Lucifer from the Cage and Ruby is taking a little too long keeping up her end of the bargain. With frustrations growing in both, Lilith finds a way to kill to birds with one stone - make her point known and give them both what they need.

Pairing: Lilith (Katherine Boecher) x Ruby

Word Count: 1,372

Warnings: Voyeurism, public sex, humiliation kink, flogging, bondage, squirting, mentions of blood but no blood kink, BDSM relationship.

A/N: For those of you 18 and over! Heed the fucking warnings. Fulfills my Lilith x Ruby @spnkinkbingo square.

                                                           ------

She was doing her best, but Sam was reluctant to embrace his true power and Dean kept inserting himself where he didn’t belong. Both Winchesters had to believe she was on their side and that took time, finesse. That’s what Lilith didn’t want to understand.

As she approached the innocuous looking building, red brick walls hiding the debased and depraved, she swallowed back the uncertainty. Lilith could ask her for anything and Ruby would give it, but Lilith was unpredictable - no matter the vessel. That unpredictability always unnerved her in the best way. 

Outside, men and women went about their business, going to and from work, taking care of their families, none the wiser to what was happening within these four walls. She inhaled the thick scent of sex and relaxed. All around her, others that frequented this place stepped into rooms, ready to indulge in whatever seemingly deviant activity they couldn’t in the company of the highest and mightiest of humanity. 

Turning the corner, she saw the blonde vessel of her lover - the innocent beachy waves so contrary to the demon underneath - and immediately she could feel the heat pool in her panties. “Hello, Mistress.”

“You’re late, pet.”

“I know, Mistress. I’ve been trying to convince Sam of my loyalty. It’s been harder than anticipated.”

“So it seems.”

Ruby didn’t dare look up. When she walked inside walls like these, she wasn’t to even speak without Lilith’s permission. 

“Do you need some encouragement to complete your objective in a more timely manner?”

She nodded and inhaled sharply when Lilith’s mouth came up against the shell of her ear, the whisper crawling up her spin. “Once Lucifer is free, I will be his second hand. And you will be mine. I’m going to give you a reminder of who you belong too.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Ruby whispered.

Lilith clasped Ruby’s hand and brought her toward the room she’d booked with the owners of the establishment, knowing full well that Ruby wouldn’t look up until she was told to do so. 

Numerous pairs of feet passed her eyeline as they walked and Ruby’s mouth went dry. It had always just been them. What did Lilith have in mind?

“Look up, pet.”

Ruby’s mouth dropped open at the sight before her. Rows and rows of chairs. They were standing on a stage. “You’ll do anything for me, pet, right?”

“Yes,” she replied, biting her lip so hard she almost tasted blood. 

“Then strip,” she said, popping the end of the word as she gestured to the people around her. “We have an audience. And I have quite a show planned for them.”

Body-wise she wasn’t ashamed at all - it wasn’t hers, it was her vessels, but she’d be bearing her soul in front of random strangers, that’s where the fear crept in - along with the anticipation. As she slipped off each item of clothing, she could feel more and more eyes on her, but no one hollered or catcalled; they just sat with rapt attention - both men and women. Once she was completely naked, Lilith motioned toward the contraption in middle of the stage. Essentially it looked like a short balance beam like those use for gymnastics, covered in leather and with shackles attached. Four to be exact. She was going to be bound and spread open for everyone to see.

Without needing to be told, Ruby stepped toward the beam and bent over, hissing as the cool leather touch her skin. She spread her arms out and watched Lilith as she clasped the shackles down on her wrists. 

“You’re already wet? How desperate are you?”

Her leg trembled when Lilith crouched down to fasten the cuffs around her ankles, spread a comfortable width apart. “Answer me.”

“I’m very desperate, Mistress.”

“Louder. Our audience can’t hear you.” “I’m very desperate,” she repeated, louder this time. 

“Let’s show the whole room what a desperate little slut you are.” What Ruby hadn’t realized was that the apparatus she was bound to was movable. 

Lilith spun it around so that Ruby’s pretty little cunt was on full display. “Isn’t she so pretty? It’s perfect, but I think we need to make that ass that same color as her pretty, pink pussy. Count them, pet.”

Leather cut through the air before landing on her taut skin. “One!” She cried out. A second and third came in quick succession, the sting of the leather building quickly and making her legs quake with need. 

“Four!” She yelled as the strands of leather hit her again. “Oh fuck!”

Lilith dragged the flogger up Ruby’s slit, gathering the wetness that gathered there before showing it to her. “This is from four smacks with a flogger. I’ve barely touched you. I’ve barely done anything and this is how you react. Clean it up.”

Ruby dragged her tongue against the smooth leather, her desperation evident in action and taste. “I think I’ll turn you around so you can look them in the eyes while I turn you beautiful ass a nice shade of red.”

When the next hit rattled her skin, she said nothing, crying out in pain but desperate for more. 

“You didn’t say five. I was only planning on 20, but you’ve earned yourself another five.”

Ruby glanced up, looking for permission to speak to say she was sorry, but was denied. Lilith got all the way up to 15 before showing the audience the evidence of her arousal. 

Even those in the back row could see the marks left upon such pristine skin, pinkish stripes highlighted against the untouched. By the looks in their eyes, Lilith could tell that many of them were wishing they were on the giving or receiving end of the show before them. Unfortunately for them, Ruby belonged to her and she would never share such a gift with the peons of humanity. “Mistress?”

“Yes, pet?”

“May I come?” For a long while, Ruby hated admitting how much the pain and pleasure mixed - how the harder she was hit, the more aroused she became - but as time passed, she cared less and less. Each hit, each sting of pain, brought her closer and closer to crying out, but she dared not come without permission.

“No, but good girl for asking. If you can handle the next 10 as I see fit I will allow you to come.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The gleam in Lilith’s eyes told Ruby all she needed to know. It was reiterated every time they were together. Sex meant very little. It was the power she craved more than anything else - no matter the facet of her life. 

After 20 lashes with the flogger, Ruby was shaking, her mouth hanging open as the spit dropped onto the ground. Behind her, she couldn’t tell whether the liquid trickling down her legs was blood or her slickness, but she didn’t care. “Five more, pet.”

“Twenty one!”

It hurt.

“Twenty two!” She couldn’t help but scream each number.

“Twenty three!”

It hurt so good. Only two more.

“Twenty four! Twenty five!” The last two came in quick succession and she bit her lip so hard she felt the skin break. It had taken everything in her to not come with the final lash.

“You did well, pet. For that I’ll give you a reward.” Bending down to her eye level, Lilith whispered in her ear. “I’m going to finger fuck that pretty pussy until you come. You’ll squirt for me because I demand it. Right?”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you. Thank you.”

“I hope you’ve all enjoyed the show,” she said to the audience, stepping to Ruby’s side. “We’ll leave you with a little parting gift.” With one hand on the small of her back, Lilith slipped two fingers into Ruby’s entrance, meeting no resistance whatsoever. She quickly found her g-spot and thrusted against the spot until Ruby cried out, her legs trembling as liquid sluiced onto Lilith’s hand and the stage below. “Good girl,” she whispered.

Shortly after, the audience began to dissipate, leaving the two women alone once more. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“You’re welcome, pet. Are you ready to continue your mission?”

“Yes, Mistress. Anything you need.”

[neroli9]

I would like for all characters to experience the wonder of nature that is the durian. If possible, make them eat it. At gunpoint, if necessary.

“So we’re all here to… eat some fruit?” Reader looks around dubiously. She’s sitting between Sans and Sasha at a table covered with paper. Also present are Ionathia, Adaleia, Clarence, Jack and Gracie. There’s an empty chair at the head of the table; Jerren has just left the room to get the durian.

“If it’s lenavis’ idea it’s probably poison or something,” Sasha grumbles.

“Poor dear Sasha! Are you still cross about the bedpan question?” Ionathia asks. Sasha scowls.

“I like this lenavis person,” Adaleia says. “No one else had a question that us peons got to answer.”

“Anyone who lives on the surface doesn’t get to call themselves a peon,” Clarence points out, narrowing his eyes at Adaleia.

“You must be such fun at parties,” Adaleia snaps. “Oh, wait! This is a party and you’re not fun at all.”

“Now, now!” Gracie puts her hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “This is a special occasion! Do let’s put our differences aside–”

“like the fact that one of us is an abomination,” Sans mutters, glancing at the door Jerren has just walked through.

“– and enjoy a new experience together! Doesn’t that sound splendid, Jack darling?”

“I’m always up for something new,” Jack says with a grin. “And I hope you all are too, ‘cause the question specifies ‘at gunpoint’…” He reaches inside his suit coat as if he’s going to draw his gun, then catches Sans’ eye and chuckles awkwardly. “Kidding, kidding!” He glances at Clarence, then at Sans, before sidling up to Reader and stage-whispering “So that’s your type, dollface? Men that can’t take a joke?”

“Offering to shoot people is a lousy joke,” Reader says sourly, crossing her arms over her chest.

The door opens, and Jerren returns with a large, spiky brown sphere on a silver platter. He smiles widely as he places it on the paper-covered table. “Ladies, gentlemen and Sans, I present to you the king of fruits.” The others recoil as the aroma of the ripe durian fills the room…

Ionathia gags. “I – I’m so dreadfully sorry, I –” She flees the room, her hand over her mouth.

Reader doesn’t look particularly regretful as she follows, mumbling “Just gonna make sure she’s all right.”

“Are you… well, pardon my bluntness, but are you quite in your right mind, Prince Jerren?” Adaleia asks.

“The durian truly is considered a delicacy, in countries where it’s grown. It just takes a little getting used to.”

“'A little getting used to,’ the man says,” Adaleia mumbles. “It’s a godforsaken stink bomb.”

“Lemme see that thing,” Jack says, holding out his hands. Jerren passes him the fruit, and he brings it to his nose and takes a whiff, then screws up his face. “Whoo! That’s ripe.”

Gracie leans over to smell it, then pulls back. “It’s awful. Simply awful. Like rotting onions and pineapple and feet all together.”

“And farts,” Jack adds. Don’t forget the farts.“ He tosses it in the air a few times, not betraying any pain as the spiky, heavy fruit lands in his palms. “Hell of a snack. Maybe five, six pounds?”

“Five and a half,” Jerren says.

“Here, Dead Eyes,” Jack says, tossing the fruit to Sans. Sans, too, doesn’t appear to feel pain when the spikes hit his bones, but the onlookers flinch. “’S all right. He’s got this creepy pain tolerance,” Jack explains.

“most people just call them bones,” Sans says as he examines the fruit. “too bad i can’t try it. sure, it smells godawful, but monsters eat some weird stuff, as humans reckon it. maybe i’d actually like it.”

“Very true,” Jerren says. “The first time I was served snail pie, I could barely choke down a single bite. I think it’s delicious now, but it took some getting used to.”

“Snail pie! How very strange,” Gracie exclaims.

“My kind hostess was rather hurt by my reaction, that first time. She was only mollified when I praised her butterscotch-cinnamon pie.” He glances at Sans, whose already forbidding expression darkens further.

Reader returns. “Ionathia says she’s just going to sit this one out, if we don’t mind. She’s a little under the weather.”

“The poor dear,” Gracie says, raising her eyebrows.

Jerren shakes his head. “How unfortunate for her.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Reader mumbles, sitting next to Sans. “Can I see?”

“if ya like. but i don’t think you’ll find this fruit a-peel-ing,” Sans answers with a grin, passing it to her. There’s groans from the group, particularly from Sasha, and his smile widens. “aww. was that a berry bad pun?”

“You’re plunging me in the pit of despair,” Reader answers, holding the durian gingerly and taking a cautious sniff. “Whew!”

“Your puns are out of date, Sans,” Jerren chimes in, also grinning. “I don’t know how I’m going to en-durian them.”

Sans narrows his eyes. “how many resets did it take to make those sound natural?” he mutters under his breath.

“It’s more like some sort of medieval weapon than a fruit,” Reader muses, turning it over carefully in her hands and looking at it with distaste. “Those spiky ball things, I mean…”

“Morning stars,” Jerren prompts her.

“Yes, exactly, morning stars! At least those wouldn’t stink if you got hit with one…”

“I wanna see,”  Sasha says, holding her hands out to Reader. She winces when the durian lands in them. “Oh wow that’s spiky. And people eat this?”

“It’s an acquired taste, but its fans consider it a delicacy,” Jerren says.

“Huh.” She lifts it to her nose, then shakes her head. “I can’t really smell it. Here, take it,” Sasha says to Adaleia, passing it before she has a chance to say no.

“Ow! It stung me!” Adaleia cries, passing it on just as quickly to Clarence. “Why are we going to eat this unholy monstrosity again? Just because the resident provocateur thinks it would be funny?”

“Basically, yes,” Jerren says.

“Well, I hope our suffering is sufficiently amusing,” Adaleia says with a scowl.

Clarence takes a whiff, then recoils. “Merciful Father that’s revolting. And…” He runs his finger over the spikes. “Just as forbidding on the outside.” He looks down at the durian, frowning, then looks Jerren in the eye. “How much did it cost to import this?”

Adaleia looks scandalized and makes a move as if to stop Clarence from asking such a rude question, but Jerren answers in a calm tone, “About as much as you make in a month.”

“That’s more disgusting than anything about this fruit,” Clarence says. “I think I’ll pass.” He hands the fruit back to Jerren and stands up.

“Oh? I was hoping you would say grace for us,” Jerren says.

Clarence stops short. “Er, well…”

Jerren gestures invitingly at the durian. “If any fruit could use a blessing, it’s surely this one. So far it’s been described as godforsaken, godawful and unholy, and we haven’t even opened it yet.”

Clarence can’t help but smile. “All right.” He sits back down and holds the durian in his hands, bowing his head. “Mother and father above the clouds, we are gathered here today to set aside our differences and partake of one of your most precious gifts. We give humble thanks for the labor of the men and women who planted and tended the tree, harvested the fruit and brought it to us today. Let this your creation remind us that not every challenge you place in front of us is a pleasant one, but as you have seen fit to create this fruit, so too have you created the forces that shape our lives and characters. We cannot necessarily see the value in the experiences that challenge us, yet there is worth in all that you have created. And let us all spare some thought for the children of New Ebott, far too many of whom cannot afford so much as a bag of plums while those to whom they look for leadership indulge themselves with rotten-smelling fruit that you could kill a man with. Amen.”

Sasha can’t help snickering at this last point, and Jack laughs outright. “Clarence my man, I’d go to your church.”

“I’m no preacher,” Clarence responds. “Thinking about going into politics though.”

“There ya go! Shake the bastards up a bit,” Jack replies with a good-natured grin. “You got my vote. Now how d'ya open that dang thing?”

“With a hammer, perhaps?” Gracie says, eyeing the durian. “Like a coconut…”

“Maybe a really big knife?” Sasha suggests, her eyes lighting up. “Right down the middle.” She pantomimes slicing into the durian with relish.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Jerren says, taking the durian back from Clarence. He studies the fruit for a moment, tracing his finger from one end of the fruit to the other. Then he pokes his fingers into a particular spot on the fruit, slowly splitting it along a hidden seam. As the seam opens, he works his fingers in deeper, careful to avoid the spikes, then pulls the two sides apart to reveal the fruit’s creamy yellow flesh. He splits off a lobe of the fruit as the onlookers look on wide-eyed.

“You make it look so easy,” Sasha says. Jerren grins as he opens up another lobe of the fruit, then another.

“The smell is unbearable,” Adaleia grumbles. “Surely this all must be some horrid joke?”

“Reserve judgment until you’ve tried the flesh,” Jerren says as he removes the flesh from the rinds and cuts it into smaller pieces. “There’s nine of us, but Ionathia is indisposed and Sans is monstrous, so…”

“you are NOT one to talk, buddy,” Sans mutters as Jerren arranges seven pieces of durian on the platter.

Jerren just smiles, then pushes the platter onto the middle of the table. “Who’s first?”

Everyone looks at each other. Sans leans back in his chair.

“I am curious,” Reader says, reaching for a piece. She sniffs it, then drops it on the paper covering the table in front of her, gagging. “Whew! Dunno if I’m that curious. Ugh!”

Sans takes the piece she dropped and passes it in front of his nasal cavity, then gives it a tentative lick. “yeah, that’s something. reminds me of sentry duty down at the dump actually. breaking up fights between the junkpickers, stepping in god knows what. you all enjoy.” He sets it back down on the paper-covered table.

“Why would anyone eat such a horrid thing, anyway?” Gracie asks, touching her hand to her forehead as if in physical pain.

“The fruit itself is unlike anything else,” Jerren explains. “It has a higher fat content than most fruit, giving it a buttery texture. At its best, it’s both fruity and creamy, with complex undertones of caramel and nuts. And it’s thought to be an aphrodisiac.”

This makes Jack reach for a piece. He eyes it suspiciously, then glances at his fiancée. “Do I feed it to her, or eat it myself?”

“You make me eat that and you’re never touching me again,” Gracie shrieks, wagging her finger at Jack.

He chuckles. “Guess I gotta be the guinea pig then.” He pops the whole piece in his mouth, then immediately gags it back into his hand. “Whew! That’s potent,” he manages to get out between coughs before grabbing his glass of water and downing every drop.

There’s laughter from around the table, and Jack grins too. “Let no one say a damn fruit got the better of Bear of the Carpainter Family!” He holds his nose and swallows the piece of durian in one go, then reaches for Gracie’s water and chugs the entire glass. He pats his chest, still swallowing hard, and makes a face. “There. I feel it working already!” He takes a squealing Gracie into his arms and crushes her to him, smacking his lips at her.

“Don’t you dare! Your breath smells like that horrid fruit!” she squeals, laughing and squirming as he smacks his lips ever closer to her face. “You let me go this instant, you brute!”

He laughs and plants an exaggerated kiss on her cheek. “Give it a try, baby!”

“Just a tiny bite,” she allows, climbing onto his lap and reaching for a piece of fruit. “Ugh! It’s all slimy.” She pinches off a tiny bit of durian, scrunches up her face, and pops it in her mouth. She retches and grabs her napkin, bringing it to her mouth to spit out the fruit as she gags and coughs. “Oh – oh, it’s awful,” she cries.

Jack laughs heartily. “Not gonna serve it at the wedding, huh?”

“Not on your life!” She shudders.

He puts his arms around her and whispers something in her ear, and she blushes and giggles, punching him lightly on the arm.

Jack gestures at the others. “Who’s next, huh?”

Sasha mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “not gonna let that airhead show me up.” She reaches for a slice, breaking off a piece, then glowers at it and screws up her face. “Jerren, I may not have very long to live,” she announces in her most dramatic voice, holding the back of her hand to her forehead, “and if this turns out to be my last meal, I’m gonna come back and haunt you.”

“I have a feeling that if I actually try it, it’s going to be my last meal,” Adaleia grumbles. “I’ve never smelt anything so bad in my life.”

“I suppose you’ve never taken out the trash or changed a diaper before,” Clarence says, looking critically at her.

Adaleia looks back at him just as critically. “Oh, am I rich and spoiled? My goodness, I would have never known if you hadn’t been so kind as to inform me! Allow me to express my gratitude by donating to your campaign for New Ebott dogcatcher.”

“Will you two shut up? I’m having a dramatic moment here,” Sasha grumbles. She pops the piece of durian in her mouth and chews thoughtfully. “It’s kinda slimy and sweet,” she says, making a face. “Of course, I can’t smell it, that probably helps.” She swallows, then drains her glass of water. “Ugh. Well, at least now I can say I’ve tried it.” She shudders. “I wonder why anyone ever thought to eat it in the first place? You’d have to be really desperate. It’s like, it looks scary and off-putting on the outside, but when you see what it’s like on the inside, it’s…” She gives Sans a meaningful look. “It’s even worse. It’s not even, like, neutral. It’s actively sickening. It has no redeeming qualities whatsoever.”

Sans raises his eyebrows. “can’t help but feel like you’re trying to make a point here.”

“No idea what you mean,” she answers airily. “Stepstool Man,” she adds under her breath with disdain. She nods at Reader. “Your turn. Unless you’re chicken.”

“I think I might be pretty chicken,” Reader murmurs, picking up her piece of durian and squinting at it, her face screwed up in disgust. “But I hate to disappoint lenavis… Here goes.” She takes a small bite and gags immediately, cringing and coughing. She drops the rest of her piece and drains her glass of water, then reaches for Sans’. “Good lord, that’s the worst thing I ever tasted,” she mumbles.

“You barely tried it,” Jerren points out.

“Yes, and that was enough,” she replies between swigs of Sans’ water.

Sans pats her on the back. “you’re a good sport, kid.”

“And now she’s pumped full of aphrodisiacs,” Jack says jovially, winking at Sans. “Bet she’s gonna jump your bones tonight! Get it? Jump your bones! ‘Cause you’re a skeleton!” He guffaws, and Gracie giggles, clinging to him. Reader looks down, her expression deeply embarrassed.

“that’s enough,” Sans says in a low voice, narrowing his eyes.

Sasha looks nauseated, making a face that’s even more exaggerated than the one she made while eating the durian, while Jerren’s blandly pleasant expression is momentarily replaced with revulsion.

“Can’t take a joke 'bout your sick little fetish, huh?” Jack says, his smile nasty. “Well, ain’t none of my business what you get up to with your –”

As Jack talks, Sasha growls and Sans gets to his feet –

“I think I might be pretty chicken,” Reader murmurs, picking up her piece of durian and squinting at it, her face screwed up in disgust. “But I hate to disappoint lenavis… Here goes.” She takes a small bite and gags immediately, cringing and retching. She drops the rest of her piece and drains her glass of water, then reaches for Sans’. “Good lord, that’s the worst thing I ever tasted,” she mumbles.

“You barely tried it,” Jerren points out, smiling to himself.

“Yes, and that was enough,” she replies between swigs of Sans’ water.

Sans pats her on the back. “you’re a good sport, kid.”

“And now –” Jack starts.

Jerren cuts him off. “Right, then! Adaleia, Clarence, I believe you two are the only ones left…” Jack looks sour at the interruption, but contents himself with feeling up Gracie’s ass. She giggles and rests her head on his shoulder.

Adaleia sighs. “Thanks for nothing, lenavis. Next time, ask for us to have a wine and cheese tasting, or something. If that wouldn’t be too offensive to his revolutionary sensibilities, of course,” she says, gesturing at Clarence.

“Or lenavis could ask for you all to help out with one of my classes,” Clarence says. “It’d be an educational experience for all of you. You and your other heiress friend can read the kids some stories. I’m sure you know your history,” he says, nodding at Jerren. “You can teach them art and music,” he continues, gesturing at Reader. “Your sister can help me grade homework. Those two,” he says, pointing at Sans and Jack, “well… they can be cautionary examples.”

Jack guffaws at this. “You got me there. I dropped out of school when I was thirteen.”

“i can teach'em anything they wanna know 'bout physics,” Sans says with a grin. “just don’t get me started on philosophy. you’d wind up with a class full of little nihilists.”

“Shall we get this over with?” Adaleia asks Clarence, splitting a piece of durian and handing half to him.

“Here’s to what may be the weirdest party I’ve ever been to in my life,” he says, holding up his piece.

“There’s one thing you and I agree on,” Adaleia says, touching her piece to his as if making a toast. “And I’ve been to a party where she –” Adaleia gestures to Reader. “–caught her skirt on a nail, and it ripped and came clean off.”

“Addy!” Reader glares at her as the others laugh.

“Here goes nothing,” Adaleia says, taking a tiny bite of the durian. She coughs a few times, swallowing hard, then takes another small bite. “Astonishingly enough, it’s not that bad,” she says, raising her eyebrows. “It’s like… fruity cream cheese with caramelized onions. You just have to get past the smell.”

Clarence takes a small bite of his piece, then makes a face, swallowing hard and gagging. He reaches for his glass of water and drinks the whole thing before replying “Wow, now I know surface folk are crazy. You had me thinking it might be all right, but… nope. Revolting. Here, you can have my piece.”

Adaleia waves him off. “I didn’t say I liked it *that* much. I’d much rather have some grapes, or an orange, or something decent like that. I’m just saying, it’s not as bad as you all make it out to be.” She puts her piece back onto the platter in the middle of the table, then sips her water.

Jerren stands up, gathering up the pieces of durian and putting them back on the platter. “Right, then! Now everyone’s tried it, there’s cookies for everyone in the next room down, so as to escape the smell. I’ll meet you all there in a few minutes.”

The group files out of the room, and Jerren reaches for a partially eaten slice of durian. He takes a bite and leans back in his chair, savoring it with his eyes closed. Then he glances over at you and raises an eyebrow. “What’s that look for? Durian is my favorite fruit.”

(Ask the APJFM cast anything! Still taking questions. This perhaps stretches the bounds of a question, but I hope you all enjoyed it.)

[purge-that-urge-rhackathon]

i need you, though. with rhack maybe?

This labeled as Machiavelli. It will be multi chapter (3 i think, at the very least 2) and subsequent chapters will be posted on my ao3 here. Won’t get to the actual word prompt until 2nd chapter tho haha. My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here. 

–

“Can I get you anything else, sir?”

Jack looked up from the coffee that was just sat on his desk, hearing the offer below the seemingly innocent request. It made him smile, though he wouldn’t act on it.

The alpha knew that he was a sexy, handsome badass that everyone– alpha, beta, omega, or hell, aliens probably- wanted. He was rich, he was powerful, he was smart as fuckall, and he could kill with deadly efficiency. Suffice it to say, he was everyone’s wet dream and he knew it, so he couldn’t blame the omega.

He also knew that he was getting on in years, and no matter of self-denial could completely hide the truth from himself. Oh, he still thought he was god’s gift to the universe, but nothing this perfect could stay that way forever. It would ruin the novelty of his mythos if it did. Being seen as a god among peons was fun and all, but gods were untouchable, and where was the fun in that?

The omega PA watched him expectantly, ready to jump should Jack just tell him how high. Rhys was subtle, he had to give him that, but the omega was dropping hints more and more to the point where Jack was just waiting for the outright proposition to come.

“Nah, this is good, kiddo.”

A short look of disappointment passed over Rhys’ face, gone as soon as it passed, and the younger man went back to his desk. Jack inwardly smirked to himself as he sipped at his coffee. Flattered as he was by the younger man’s admiration, Jack had no intention of indulging it.

It made things interesting, at least, and that helped to pass the time with the mind-numbingly dull documents his underlings were apparently too incompetent to handle.

Hours later that evening, Jack let out an aggravated noise and dragged hands through his perfect hair. It was a testament to how seriously done the older man was with this shit. At least it was late and there was no one around to airlock. No one aside from Rhys, anyways, and he should have gone home an hour ago already.

“You could use a break.”

“I could use new department heads,” the alpha growled with annoyance. “That and about a week’s worth of sleep.”

Rhys got out of his chair as if on cue, approaching the CEO’s desk with a smile. “You need looking after, sir.”

Jack snorted. “I’m too tired for the ‘sir’ shit today, kiddo. Don’t make me remind you.”

“Sorry, Jack.”

“And there isn’t another shithead on the station I could trust to make sure these get out on time.” Jack groaned. “It’s a bitch being a genius sometimes.”

Rhys snorted. “I’ll get you more coffee. And should I send up for pizza or something?”

“Nah, just the caffeine. Extra strong, kitten. It’s going to be one of those nights.”

Rhys went about the motions as Jack squinted at the processing forms and deals needing his personal input, his approval, or his superior intellect. He wondered sometimes how the company would ever remain afloat when he was actually gone. Not that that was going to happen anytime soon, of course. He planned to live another hundred years if he had any say in the matter. But without the things only he seemed capable of solving or creating or wiping out, he didn’t see how this damn company would even function without their king.

Maybe he should look into that program the creepy little beta scientist kept hounding him with.

Rhys reappeared with a freshly steaming mug in his hand, and sat the coffee down as per usual on Jack’s desk. The alpha sighed at the scent.

“Aah, thanks pumpkin. Really need this.”

“Any time.” Rhys smiled as he looked down at the hard working alpha. “Can I… do anything else for you?”

He was laying the tone on pretty thick, Jack thought. That, or the alpha really was that tired. The kid was persistent, he had to give him that. “Yeah, brew another pot after the next cup, will ya cupcake? I’m gonna be here late tonight.”

“Sure… sure, I can handle that,” Rhys said with slight disappointment. He wasn’t giving up though. “But I meant, um, if there was anything else I could do for you…?”

Jack met his eyes, hoping his PA would chicken out. A slight blush was on the omega’s cheeks, and damn if he didn’t look freakin’ adorable all flustered and trying his best. It was the worst seduction attempt Jack had ever had, and the older man loved it even as he discouraged it. He didn’t have the time or energy for what the kid probably wanted.

“Not unless you’ve got some special programming in that eye that can sort through all this shit needing my input?”

“Uh… no, I don’t.” Rhys sighed as Jack returned to sip at his coffee, eyes on his monitor even as Rhys still stood there. The omega was gathering his courage, heart doing flipflops. He ran his flesh hand through his hair and he awkwardly stood there. He huffed heavily, getting Jack’s attention even as he looked about the room to try and gather his thoughts. “Look, if there’s anything, like, I can do to, uh, relieve your stress, you know… I mean physically, you know, a backrub… or something else, then I’d–”

He stopped at Jack’s sigh, looking up with red cheeks as the alpha had his full attention on him.

“Rhysie, you’re a good PA. You really are freakin’ good at your job.” Jack saw the hope in the omega’s eyes, and he felt a twinge of regret that he’d have to turn down this sweet thing. It would be for the best, though. Rhys really was one of the best PA’s he’d ever had, and he couldn’t have the kid quit for a fling that wouldn’t go anywhere. “But it’s not gonna happen, kiddo.”

“Why not?” Rhys crossed his arms defiantly, and that surprised Jack. He’d expected doe-eyed looks of sadness, submission, his whole world and dreams being dashed to pieces. Instead, Rhys stood there defiant. Damn, this omega really was interesting, even as he was glaring at the CEO. “I’ll have you know I give the best head this side of Prometheus and–”

“Jesus kiddo, enough already,” Jack said with a shocked laugh. “You’ve gotta be like, what, fifteen going on sixteen?”

“Hahaha,” Rhys laughed sarcastically. “Really Jack, why not?”

“You won’t just take no for an answer? From your boss, the president and freakin’ CEO of the company?”

That gave the omega pause. Jack thought, with disappointment, that Rhys looked like he might back off. But the stubborn little twink just stuck his chin up with even more defiance. “No. Not when I want something this bad.”

Jack snorted. What a ballsy little omega. He liked him even more for his nerve, which made this all the more difficult. “Rhysie, kitten…”

He was going to be diplomatic for once in his life– say some shit about Rhys not being his type, not being into male omegas, or quoting the company handbook even- but for once, Jack opted for the cold hard truth. For both of them.

“I’m too old for you, Rhys.”

Rhys stared a moment before blinking in comprehension.The younger man was actually rendered speechless. Those were words one would never expect to pass Handsome Jack’s lips. His speeches, his videos- not to mention all company propaganda- always focused on how great the older man was; how insurmountable and strong he was, with nothing ever getting in the way of him or Hyperion. If Jack thought he was too old, then one would think he would dye that grey streak Rhys found so charming, if not for publicity, then for his vanity.

Rhys called bullshit on the very idea. He did something that Jack wasn’t expecting: Rhys laughed.

“Seriously? That’s the best you can come up with?” the omega accused with disappointment. “You are definitely not too old for me. Come on now, Jack, I’ve been pretty loyal, I deserve the truth. Are you– Am I not your type? Is that it? I mean I- I could maybe get that, but…”

Jack huffed. His pretty PA had no idea just how much he was Jack’s type. Long legs for days, gorgeous face, great hair, and tattoos on that creamy skin begging to be licked. Oh, he was Jack’s type alright, but a little too green around the ears to know what he really wanted.

“Really princess, that’s it. I’m just too old for you. Can’t be helped.”

“No, I don’t accept that.”

Rhys studied the older man’s face with scrutiny– the gray streak, the mask, the softness around his middle that wasn’t there in some of the posters from Jack’s earlier days. Yes, Jack was older than him, but not too old. Not old enough that it would cause a scandal, of that much he was sure. Some of the higher-up executives much older than Jack had pampered sugar babies way younger than Rhys. Badly-kept secrets and all, but this didn’t even compare.

“You’re not too old for me, Jack. No way. You’re not even that–” Rhys paused, stricken by some errant thought as the CEO watched him. Rhys’ eyes bored into Jack’s own with intensity, and the older man tried to steel himself for whatever the omega had coming next. “Unless you mean you can’t- you can’t, uh-” he looked away from Jack’s eyes diplomatically, “get it up, but that’s–”

“Freakin’– I can get my dick up just fine,” Jack growled maybe a little too loudly. Rhys’ eyes were back on him, and the CEO swore he felt himself blushing under his mask, totally not expecting that line of questioning.

“It’s okay if you can’t! I don’t care! It’s not about that,” Rhys promised as he earnestly plead his case, and Jack dragged a hand over his face wondering what he’d done lately to deserve being subjected to this. “I want you, Jack, okay? I really really want you and even if your dick doesn’t work anymore I don’t–”

“Rhysie, sweetheart,” the alpha chuckled dangerously, “if any more words about my dick not working crosses those lips, then pretty or not, I’m airlocking you.”

That effectively shut Rhys up, but not for long. “…you think I’m pretty, then?”

“Shit pumpkin, just stop, okay?” Jack sighed and took a long look over the frowning, hopeful omega. “Yes, you’re pretty, kiddo. Goddamn gorgeous. You’re gonna make some lucky bastard really happy one day and have a shitton of kids that look as pretty as their mama and break everyone’s hearts. But it’s not gonna be with me. Just give it up, kiddo.”

A few moments of silence passed between them, and Jack felt his words were finally starting to sink in.

“…are you shooting blanks?”

“Rhys!”

The younger man was visibly distressed at the alpha’s outburst, looking anywhere but at the CEO as he still held his ground on long, shaky legs. He reminded Jack of a scolded puppy, and in the alpha’s mind, that’s basically what the young omega was.

“I’m just trying to understand, Jack…!” he whined. “If you didn’t like me, then I’d get it… I just don’t understand.”

“You’re not stupid, so don’t play dumb, cupcake. I might not have a lot of decency left nowadays, but I’m too old for whatever you think it is you want to happen.” The omega made a pitiful noise, and Jack sighed with agitation, wondering why he was trying to be so delicate in letting the other man down. “You’re young and pretty still, cupcake. You don’t even know what the universe has to offer you yet, and I’m not one to let go of things once I get set. And that’s what will happen, baby. It’s not worth the effort. It’s for the best.”

Rhys fidgeted where he stood, still not looking at Jack, and damn if the whole submissive omega thing wasn’t pandering to Jack’s every instinct. He wasn’t sure if Rhys was doing it on purpose or not at this point, and he was still shocked they were even having this conversation. Damn, he must like the younger man a great deal. But it wasn’t worth fucking up their good working relationship to play with him to satisfy an itch of curiosity.

And what if he got more attached than Rhys did? With the omega sharing his space, he knew it was bound to happen, and he also knew he wouldn’t be satisfied just having him once. He was way too old for friends with benefits, and he also wouldn’t stand for the omega fucking anyone else. It was just stupid to even be entertaining thoughts of ‘what if?’ He didn’t fancy having the omega’s devotion one day turn into revulsion. Jack knew he was too old to start from scratch. It was a concept the younger man didn’t seem to consider.

“…my mother was way older than my father,” the omega supplied softly, still not looking up. “More than us… at least I think so.” He chanced a quick look up at Jack as if to gauge the gap between them, then focused somewhere just below the man’s desktop. “…I’m not like… asking you to marry me or give me kids or anything like all that,” Rhys quickly dismissed. “Just… give me a chance? For whatever you want? See if you like me?” He looked up hopefully again, meeting Jack’s eyes with desperation. “If it’s too weird or whatever then we can just go back to normal and I promise I’ll never bring it up again. I’ll join one of those omega dating sites on the echonet even and I won’t make it weird, I swear.”

Jack’s fist was over his pursed lips as he watched his PA stoically. He was being offered a free pass to those long legs wrapped around him, sinking into that slick heat and making his pretty PA use his voice to its full abilities. He’d long wondered what it would be like to drag his fingers through that carefully styled hair, licking inked skin and leaving bruises on milky hips. Rhys had a nice scent. How much stronger would it be if he was mindless with need beneath the older man? He could satisfy his curiosity once and have it never brought up again. The perfect one night stand with a pretty young thing intent on pleasing him.

“No, Rhys.” Jack sighed again, more at himself than anything else, trying to ignore the small whine of dismay that passed the omega’s lips. “Why don’t you go on home, kiddo? Enjoy your weekend. I’ll probably be a few more hours here if those assholes haven’t gotten back to me with figures yet.”

The finality with which he spoke had gotten through to the younger man, subject definitely put to rest with no chance of being revived. Rhys sulked– it was definitely sulking- but he accepted the CEO’s rejection with as much dignity as possible. “I’ll… I’ll make another pot of coffee, first,” the omega said dejectedly.

“Thanks kiddo. Appreciate it.”

Jack ignored Rhys as the omega gathered up his things for the night, ignored the long, wistful sigh the younger man gave himself under his breath, and only offered a perfunctory “night” in response to Rhys wishing him goodnight.

Watching the omega leave the office though, those long legs and ass in pants far too tight for him, Jack’s cock would never forgive him for passing up the opportunity to fuck that. Thankfully his brain was driving this shitshow, and Jack was more than capable of staying out of the designs of a man far younger than he was.

The alpha groaned in annoyance and attacked the subversive codes and forms with vengeance. His weekend was going to be anything but peaceful, whether or not he dwelled on his pretty PA.

–

Subsequent chapters are on my ao3 here. :) There is also a second story in this aufound here.

[eternal-love-song]

Cupid’s Psyche

The story of Eros and Psyche, played by Loki and Darcy.

[Loki/Darcy] [Loki is Eros, Darcy is Psyche, Amora is Aphrodite, Thor is Zues] [Romance, Developing Relationships, Invisibility]

For @gyoroandururun for Tasertricks Secret Santa!

Chapter 1: Insight Chapter 2: Action Chapter 3: Doubt Chapter 4: Resolution

The sound of a door slamming echo through the house, shattering the amiable silence that they have been languishing in. Loki looked up from his book and out into the hall, though he didn't expect to see much. The sound had come from downstairs, too far to have naturally carried to where they were two floors up. Magic had to be involved and it was worrying sign that it was being used purely to carrying the warning of someone's irritation.

Lorelei closed her a book with a sigh, sitting up from where she was lounging on the floor. "She's angry."

"She's always angry," Loki answered, eyes drifting down to his book. "We should stop letting her go out."

Lorelei leaned back on her hands, legs crossed at the ankles. "It's going to be our problem." She said with heavy resignation.

"I am in no hurry for that to become true," he said.

It seemed that Lorelei was not either. She remained relaxed on the floor, but she didn't pick up her book again. She was resigned, waiting. She shouldn't be. It wasn't even like she had much to worry about. Whatever Amora's grievance was, she was most likely to come to Loki to deal with it.

The goddess of love was a complete hassle.

Amora waited a grand total of ten minutes before coming to them. During that time, Loki could only imagine she broke everything in the house based on the noise. He heard clunks and clatters, slamming doors, broken glass, and stomping feet. As expected, her eyes were blazing with anger when she arrived.

"What's wrong?" Lorelei asked because Loki wasn't going to.

"Mortals!" Amora hissed and Loki closed his book. Loki knew that this wouldn't be dismissed swiftly. It never was when she took issue with the mortals.

"What offense have they made now?" Lorelei asked with exasperation. Amora ignored her tone or else was too angry to noticed.

"They had the audacity to choose one of their own petty peons to worship in my stead!" Amora yelled. "To claim a mortal is more beautiful than myself!"

Ah, the most severe offense, Loki thought, a vanity blow. Well, no need to remind her that she wasn't the goddess of beauty. She had long convinced herself that she was just that.

"So what do you plan to do about it, Amora?" Loki finally asked.

Amora turned to face him with eyes blazing, glowing green with anger and magic. "Your mischief works best here, Loki. Make her fall in love with the most hideously appalling creature you can find."

"Why should I do your dirty work?" Loki questioned, already knowing that he would but wanting to be contrary about it.

"Because if I go, I may very well slaughter every mortal clustered around her in a ten mile radius." She clenched her fist, flames leaping up between her fingers.

"And," Lorelei added, "You actually have a modicum of self restraint. Unlike Amora."

Truth. All true. This was the reason that Loki was often sent to handle Amora's rages. It was a way of showing mercy to the mortals, an attempt to reign in Amora's vast amount of pettiness and easy to rouse fury.

Loki stood up. "Tell me who she is."

Darcy was exceedingly bored. She sat in front of her vanity mirror, staring into her own bored eyes as she suffered her mother tugging her hair. "Oh, Darcy, you could put the gods to shame." She said, for what was surely eight millionth time of Darcy's life. Darcy remained silent. She had long ago stopped responding to such statements. She tired of wasting her breath on them when the statements would come regardless.

Her sole indulgence to her mother was letting her braid flowers and gems into Darcy's hair. Flowers that were constantly delivered by men wanting win her favor and gems that she was gifted by boys hoping to court her. Her room had long since gotten crowded and this was an easy way to cycle the gifts out. Her mother always had a fit if she tried to simply throw them out.

Her indulgence to her father was keeping her manners, and more importantly her temper, in check when hordes of would-be suitors crowded her for attention. Her father wanted her to one day marry. She was in no way pressed for options, but it still wouldn't due to kill them all before that.

It was unbelievably tiresome having everyone around her saying the same things and behaving in the same way day in and day out. No matter what she did or where she went, very little changed.The praises flowed from people's lips as constant as a sun rise. Gifts appeared in her room more frequently than they did at the temples. Flowers had been laid at her feet as if she was too good to walk on the unadorned ground.

It was madness! No one but Darcy seemed to realize it though. Her father claimed that it was her due, no doubt too pleased by how the trinkets given to her could help fill the royal coffers. Her mother insisted it was her destiny and thrilled in the attention as if it were her own instead of her daughter's. Jane had informed her many a time that it was her burden to bear the weight of glory the kingdom was due.

It was all so tedious!

"All done, love." Her mother smiled as she brushed aside a few lose strands of hair, admiring and preening all at once. "Aren't you a lovely sight to behold." It should have been a question, but it wasn't. Not at all.

Darcy sighed. If she wasn't careful, this stage of admiration could last another hour. "May I go now, mother?"

Her mother cupped Darcy's cheek with one hand, eyes trailing over her appearance once more. "Whatever you like, dear."

Darcy slid away from her mother's touch quickly. "Thank you." She attempted to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She wasn't certain that she succeeded, but she fled before she could tell one way or the other. It was too much to be doted on every hour of ever day. Darcy was getting sick of it. Had gotten sick of it.

"I wish something exciting would happen," She muttered to herself as she walked out into the palace gardens. Surely that wasn't too much to ask for?

"Something exciting," Loki repeated with a grin. He was sitting above her in the trees, his bow resting across his lap and spinning one of his arrows in his left hand. "Well I have a surprise for you!"

As if beckoned by his voice, Darcy looked up. Loki was startled to find that the mortals had actually gotten something right. The girl was unaccountably beautiful. Loki tried to get a grip on his arrow, yelping in surprise when his hand closed around the arrowhead. Glancing back down at the princess, he could feel the magic in the arrow wrapping around his heart, pulling him toward her.

"Oh, no..." He muttered to himself.