#and step on fruit and get messy and see the sunrise and be free
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AIGHT HERE WE GO BUCKLE UP!! Endermen hybrids Illumina, Purpled, and Ranboo! With a sprinkle of Technodad and Sonboo, a drizzle of Little Brother Purpled and Big Brother Punz, with a side of Illumina and Fruit friendship! Less go! This was meant to be a ramble but literally ended up a fic outline?? Could even be read as a fic if you wanted??? What the hell 6 am me???
Endermen hyrbid are valuable because since they're half human instead of making enderpearls they make eyes of ender, and they respawn like humans do so they're used to farm ender eyes.
Ranboo meets Illumina and Purpled after being kidnapped and separated from his dad at the wee age of eleven meets sixteen year old Illumina and eleven year old Purpled.
He's tossed into a cell with the two of them, Illumina being there to calm the younger two down after being used for the farm. Whenever Illumina is brought back to the cell, he cares for the boys and dotes on them, acting much more worried and clingy that normal. They let him take care of them, knowing that keeping them safe calms him.
They talk about their lives before being taken, Illumina talks about the adventures he and his friend Fruit would go on. The dangerous things they did. He promises the boys to one day show them cool tricks, using the excuse of "the cell is too tiny and someone would get hurt" as to why he can't show them off there, not wanting to tell them the little portions of food he recieves (even less considering he gives most to the boys) has eaten away at his strength.
Purpled talks about his adoptive brother Punz who's just a bit older than Illumina, at age seventeen. How he was a cool mercenary hired to do "super secret" stuff and protect people. He tells them about his trident and tomahawk.
When Ranboo opened up, it gave Illumina his first real sense of hope he's had in a long time. Ran talks about his dad, emperor of the Antarctic Empire and faithful patron of the powerful Blood God. Illumina had heard of the Arctic Empire's hybrid son and after story after story began to believe that Ran really was the prince of the Empire. Ran's father obviously loved him, each story leaving him in tears of either longing or laughter. His father would be searching for them, and he would find them.
Weeks turned to months and nothing changed, until Ran was on the floor screaming in pain and Purpled was hiding in the corner wailing in fear. Illumina could hear cracking, popping, and spotted two hard lumps just next to Ranboo's shoulder blades and realized he wasn't just some Enderman hybrid, but rather a dragon hybrid. When the pain finally subsided and their captors returned to take the two young boys Illumina knew what he had to do.
He didn't know much of Gods and patrons, only what he read while searching the strongholds with Fruit after their latest adventure.
Patrons were messy, being worthy to have one and be a follower was even messier. But within that moment, he didn't care. Thousands of voices in his head was better than having to witness those monsters that held them captive force Ran to cough and gag and wheeze in attempt to get Dragons Breath from the boy. It was worth it to return Purpled to his brother, to see the boys eyes light up the same way they did when Ran said his dad would save them. And for just a moment, Illumina let himself be selfish. It was worth it to get to hold his best friend close, to be strong enough to scale buildings and run from golems they'd messed with. To see the sunrise over a snowy mountain, to show the world he was faster, stronger, and smarter than anyone imagined.
Cutting his hand on a jagged rock sticking from the walls that he had warned the boys about so often, be used his own blood to draw the symbol. When it glows and the world fades, stands before him a towering man with hair as white as snow, wearing the finest attire fit for a king, dressed in gold with everything he wore.
Wordlessly, a deal is made and as their hands shake Illumina is staring into dark, ruby red eyes sparkling with a beast like excitement. The Blood God speaks and tells him "They have been waiting." And Illumina knows what he means.
When the world returns, his ragged and dirty clothes are replaced by the ones he would wear before the monsters took him. A pouch of emeralds hangs from his belt and a familiar black mask covers his nose and mouth. His strength has returned, but at a cost he has yet to find out.
There's no whispers, no cries, no one yelling in his head. There's no insanity blocking his train of thought. No amnesia. He is Illumina.
He wraps himself with the one thin blanket they were allowed, curling up near the gate to keep himself and his clothes covered.
Purpled is first to return and Illumina places a figer over his lips, signaling Purpled to stay quiet. When Ran returns, it takes Illumina less than thirty seconds to have the monstrous man on the ground unconscious. Ran and Purpled watch in awe as he checks the horrid man for anything of value to them. A ring of keys, a pouch of coin, an iron sword, and a map are all Illumina deems worthy.
While his strength has returned, he's mindful of the boys and their weak bodies. He carries Purpled on his back, the violet eyed boy the smallest out of them all.
It takes hours to escape their prison mostly undetected. When they do, Illumina grabs the first horse he can find that's saddled up and tells the boys to hold on as he rides off.
The map was appreciated beyond comprehension. It doesn't take long to find a town and get the boys proper clothing that will survive the journey to the Arctic. Keeping them close and their heads down they get what they need tools wise and leave before the sun can even set.
It's hard, telling Purpled that he'll have to wait even longer to see his brother, but promises once they return Ranboo home that Punz can come there to take him home. If Illumina must admit, he chooses Technoblade first because once it hits the news of the princes return and Illumina's name is spread, he hopes Fruit will come and find him, even if they have to meet in the middle.
Throughout the terror and pain, they push through. From the nights they got separated, Purpled clinging to Ran and assuring the dragon hybrid Illumina will find them, fighting off zombies when Ran couldn't stand straight to hold a sword. The relief when Illumina scoops them both into his arms and holds then tighter than before.
With hunters hot on their tail they can't afford to stop and it takes four months itself to reach the borders between the Arctic Empire and whatever land they found themselves in.
Ran's wings have grown in, one a dark, scaley black with brilliant green in the folds between each bone. The other is a is white and reminds Illumina of a jellyfish, bits and tassles hanging from the wing giving it a much more fragile, paper thin appearance. Both are incredibly strong, despite their looks, and it's often the intimidation factor the two wings bring that gets them out of sticky situations.
A year has passed since they've been held in captivity, Illumina now seventeen and the boys twelve.
Illumina buys the cheapest tickets to the Empire, having to hold Ran's hand to keep him from teleporting ahead in excitement. He cries multiple times, the feeling of finally being free and so close to home hitting him like a truck. Illumina sees the excitement on Purpleds face, knowing after Ran he gets his family too.
They arrive on the island and immediately Ranboo is dragging them the way to the inner walls. Claiming to know his home like the back of his hand. Passing by a few guards, Purpled asks why they don't just tell the guards they have the prince.
"The guards were the whole reason Ranboo ended up where he was, plus they could try killing us immediately thinking we took Ran. I can't risk putting you two in any more danger." Is the reply he gets.
They teleport to the other side of the walls easily, walking to the other, and teleporting. This repeats for two days till they reach the inner most wall. Techno stands on a platform in the town center, his expression showing no emotion and stance as proper as ever. Just watching him stand so straight makes Illumina's back ache.
Ranboo sobs on the spot and before he can call for his father and rush forward a hand is placed on Illumina's shoulder with a harsh grip.
The guard asks who they are, saying they most definitely are not meant to be there, and within that moment a rage so heavy it hits Illumina like a tidal wave.
A year of torture and pain, months of walking and risking his life to get here and right as he can reach it someone stops him. Illumina barely registers it before the boys jump back screaming and he's pulled his sword out to hit the other man.
He faintly hears cries of "Harvey!" As more people rush towards them. He can only focus on his blade pressing against the man, Harvey's, sword and the deep laughter filling his mind.
"It seems you've finally been broken into." The Blood God thinks aloud.
He yells for Ran to run to his dad who's being ushered of stage, his speech being cut short.
Ran looks between his father who has yet to notice him and then back to Illumina who's risked so much for him. To Purpled, who looks horrified and is trying his hardest to pull back Illumina.
And he chooses them.
Jumping between Illumina and Tapl he unfurls his large wings and yells out with a slightly staticy voice "Stop!"
And it's as if the world has stopped, the Blood God no longer speaking in Illumina's mind, Purpled can sag his shoulders in relief, and all eyes are on them.
He looks into Tapl's heterochromatic eyes and in a voice barely above a whisper says "Stop attacking my family."
Tapl steps back, the other guards step back. All can easily recognize the missing Prince, from the two-toned hair to the sparkling eyes only he possesses.
His name is breathed out and demands attention. Ranboo turns to gaze at his father from across the short distance and it's real.
They meet in the middle and Ran holds his father like a scared child, and Techno allows himself to crumble and cry. He cries for the child thought to be dead, stolen from him by those he trusted. He cries for the year and months he's spent separated from him. They cry together, and tears of pent up pain turn to tears of happiness. His grandfather and uncles appear soon enough, he's wrapped in hugs so tight and a pair of wings so warm he could fall asleep.
Purpled and Illumina and thanked for bringing him back, and all Illumina asks is for them to help them find their homes. A message is sent far and wide of Purpled's reappearance and it takes less than a month for a blonde boy, fresh i to adulthood to come crashing through the castle doors and Purpled to find himself wrapped in his big brothers arms once more.
Punz sobs so loudly it's heard from across the palace, clinging to his baby brother and cradling him like a baby.
You'd think after the royal family just about got on their knees to thank him, Illumina would be used to it and stop being so embarrassed, but something about seeing Purpled light up like he's dreamed of seeing the boy do and finally getting to see with his own two eyes the brother he talked about makes him very thankful for the mask there to hide his flushed cheeks.
Ranboo and Purpled aren't ready to let go, so Punz stays with his brother in the castle for awhile.
Illumina is asked thousands and thousands of questions, where they were taken, how they escaped, etcetera.
He takes Techno aside and confesses the deal he made in return for their freedom. He confesses he has yet to know what he's given up to the Patron and his fears. He confesses that He couldn't bare the thought of young Purpled loosing his hope and being raised in a place like that, Ranboo being hurt worse and worse for bottles of acidic breath.
He apologizes for being selfish and wanting to find his family.
And for the first time in forever, he's being held in the safety of a warm hug. He gets to cry and be comforted, he gets to be weak.
It takes longer, but one day new face appears and after four years he breaths in that ridiculously sweet scent of green apples and sweet fruits that Fruit Berries always had. He hugs his friend once again.
They show the boys their tricks, as Illumina promised. They watch them do stupidly dangerous things that make Phil, Techno, and Wilbur flinch and jump to catch the two seventeen year olds, always groaning in faux annoyance watching them land safely, Phil claiming this'll give him a heart attack and Wilbue and Techno agreeing their stupid (while impressive) actions are gonna be bad influences on their sons. Wilbur calls it quits after they manage to drag Punz in, the mercenary dueling the two of them and trying to see whether strength or agility are better. Purpled is torn between cheering for either family member and just yells words of encouragement a lot.
For once in a long long time, they're safe.
#blood tw#tw blood#kidnapping tw#tw kidnapping#mcyt#mcytblr#punz#illumina#illuminahd#purpled#ranboo#ranboolive#technoblade#ph1lza#philza#wilbur soot#tapl#jt wasnt mentioned but the otber gusrds are skeppy bad ant n sam#fanfic#to the anon of mine that mentioned them farming ranboo for ender eyes you enabled this i hope u know#but i made it WORSE and added PURPLED AND ILLUMINA
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The Unlikely Advocate
Roman Holiday Concluded
After bringing her to his home island of Ischia - off the coast of Naples - Baldwin introduces her to the customs of the island, as well as continuing their game of control.
Surprising confessions ensue.
FIRST PART
Tags: @adowbaldwin @butternuggets-blog @sylverdeclermont @lady-lazarus-declermont @ordinarymom1 @thereadersmuse @marirable @pleasereadmeok
“Bella!” The elderly matron appraised the work of her ‘priestesses’.
Clad in a white, very light and gauzy fabric chiton pinched in by ribbons, with her hair up in flowers, Eileen barely recognised herself. It seemed like a waste to get so dressed up to stain with the grape juice.
“Liber Pater will be pleased.”
“Baldwin?”
The three young women overseeing her transformation giggled.
“Our patron,” the Priestess explained “the Free Father. He has guarded us for centuries yet has never changed. We tend the fruits he grants us.”
“You think he’s a god?”
“No Senora,” the woman chuckled, “the gods do not answer prayers but he does. When we need him, he has always protected us.”
“I’ve found that,” Eileen smiled, remembering each time he’d come to her aid, “thank you for inviting me to be part of the celebrations?”
“He did not tell you?”
The women exchanged amused glances.
“It is the festival of Proserpina, consort to Liber, we’ve never had one before.”
“A Festival?”
“A Proserpina.”
“Wait, I’m not Baldwin’s consort, I’m just...” she stopped, unsure how to even continue, “this is technically our first date, if it’s even that!”
She wondered for the first time what was actually happening between them.
Friends didn’t seem sufficient, roommates might be closer since she’d been staying in his home for a few days. Roommates with benefits would require them actually being intimate, which is what she’d thought he was suggesting before spiriting her away to his Italian villa.
“I manage an international consortium of wine suppliers and buyers,” the Priestess nodded to the girls, “those are my granddaughters, they are going to Padua University in the fall, we live in the modern world like you. These are traditions we keep because they bring us together, and they are fun. We know what dating is, and the fact that you are our first and only Proserpina should tell you this is not that.”
“So,” Eileen started after a moment of stunned silence, “what is my part in the ceremony?”
“You and your maidens tread the first grapes of the harvest. In your absence they would perform this ritual as your proxies.”
“I’m guessing it’s quite messy?”
“Oh yes it is,” she smiled, “at the end, you will be quite covered. But we have cleaning facilities nearby.”
“High priestess,” Baldwin called from outside the tent, “if I may speak with the lady?”
“Of course pater,” she ushered the excited girls out the other side of the tent “she is ready”.
Eileen felt his gaze wash over her, cool and careful as she continued to look in the mirror.
“See something you like?” She asked.
“What I see is a vision of Venus herself!”
“Not Venus, Proserpina, consort of Liber who is, apparently, you.”
“It’s ceremonial, these are sensible people, they know I’m not really a God.”
“But your consort?” She challenged, catching his eye in the mirror reflection.
The grin held a glint of wolffish amusement as he approached her.
“I thought I would have more time to explain,”
his touch was light over the fabric on her shoulder but the coolness still imprinted on her climate warmed skin, “but our dear matron is much more strict with timing than any that have come before.”
“Explain what?” She asked with a dreamy sigh as he moved his hands to her waist.
“I was born here, the first time, I mean. We were wealthy, maintained the vineyard. I come here on this day every year, it just so happened to coincide with you, being here, with me. Is that fate or coincidence?” He pondered.
“It’s verging on a fairytale is what it is,” she shook her head, “a beautiful meal, two costume changes, a villa on an Italian island AND the opportunity to take part in a centuries old festival. What’s next? Are you planning on stealing the Crown Jewels for me?”
“Those trinkets,” he rolled his eyes, “I could show you stones of such size and rarity that they would destroy the global economy if they were to leave my vault.”
“Is that what you have planned for our next date?”
“Date,” he frowned, “you believe this is a mere date?”
“Honestly, I have no idea, it definitely does not fit the usual definition of ‘let’s go for a meal and awkwardly get to know each other’, but my frame of reference is kinda narrow.”
“Alright, let’s simplify it,” he framed her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, causing her to sigh in contentment, “as per our agreement, you put control in my hands until sunrise, call that our date if you wish.”
“And then?”
“And then, tomorrow, we’ll discuss my plans going forward.”
“Your plans?”
“Yes,” he answered with a bemused look, “that apartment is not safe. You’ll both move into the most secure floor in my building.”
“I can’t,” she choked, “I work from my home office, it’s where I meet my clients.”
“It’s a simple enough matter to redirect correspondence to your new address, and there is office space in the building, away from the living quarters. You can see your clients there.”
“Baldwin, I-“
“It will be your own apartment and I would only cross the threshold if invited to do so.”
“What, like a vampire?” She grinned.
“No, like someone with manners and a healthy grasp of social boundaries.” He retorted.
“Senora,” the woman called, “you are needed.”
“We can discuss the details later, you have a ceremonial duty to perform as my consort.” He teased, leaving the tent and her to her thoughts.
Move into his building? It was too much, too soon under normal circumstances but this was not normal circumstances. She had to consider what was best for Isobel, and the apartment was not safe.
The considerations could be decided later, for that night she was going to have fun, drink wine and not let the spectre of her family ruin her good time.
As it turned out, getting messy and sticky whilst stamping many grapes directly to hell was a much more cathartic and euphoric experience than several rounds with a punching bag.
Luckily there were showers set up to remove the grape entrails, otherwise the rest of the night would be more uncomfortable than it was already likely to be.
Wine.
A simple solution to a complex problem, a nice warm buzz was the goal and she interspersed the wine with water.
Dancing.
The energy of the towns inhabitants was infectious and just as intoxicating as the alcohol. She learned several dances, all the while aware of his Baldwin’s watching over her intermittently as he spent much of the evening on his cellphone.
An attractive, blonde South African male spent some time talking to her, and, being polite, she indulged him in conversation. This abruptly stopped when he placed a hand on her arm in a manner apparently too familiar for the sensibilities of the vampire watching over her, judging by the ice cold focus of his gaze on the site of contact.
The man’s eyes flickered off to the side and he retrieved his hand quickly, excusing himself.
Upon turning, Eileen found Baldwin standing a few feet away, glass in hand.
The festivities showed no sign of abating and after several more dances, Eileen scanned the celebrations for Baldwin but with no immediate success she determined that he would find her, and, enchanted by the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the sand, she followed the shoreline to where it was quieter.
With not another person in sight, she leant against the large, heavy stones making up the beginning of a cave system and removed her shoes.
She wiggled her toes into the warm sand and sighed, then smiled a little at a whimsical desire. Deciding to follow through, she waded ankle deep into the tide and closed her eyes, completely lost in the sensation of peace.
That’s when she felt the focused chill of a vampire’s gaze quicken her pulse.
“Who was he?” Baldwin asked with a silken tone, a few feet behind her.
“No idea,” she turned to look at Baldwin.
There was something different about him and it took her a few seconds to realise he wasn’t wearing his tie, surprising as he didn’t seem like the type who relaxed. But, there he was, leaning against the large heavy rock she had just been using to remove her shoes.
“I was just being friendly.” She shrugged and received no answer.
“You’re not angry because I spoke with him?” She stepped towards him.
He didn’t answer but the look he was giving warned her not to push further.
“Oh you are!” She purred, placing her hands on his broad chest and tiptoed her fingers up to his shoulders playfully.
It was a childish impulse but she felt a tinge of satisfaction from his show of possessiveness.
“Don’t-“
“Don’t what?” She prodded, letting her fingers lace together on the nape of his neck.
“Don’t test me!” He stood completely still, but the evenness of his tone suggested his stature was closer to that of a coiled snake than a prey animal caught in headlights.
“Alright, I won’t,” she turned away from him to look out at the water, “I suppose I could catch up with him, Charlie. He’s handsome, right? Athletic, strong. Probably has quite high stamina.”
“That’s enough!” He warned in a low growl, simultaneously setting off every self-preserving alarm and, perversely, every ‘make-him-snap’ impulse.
“Well obviously it’s not my first choice but since I think you’ve tired of me already, a girl has needs!”
“Be very careful about your next words little witch!”
“You don’t agree with my choice,” she teased, “you can’t just picture him helping me out of this dress, taking me to his bed,” she glanced back for emphasis but found his expression impassive, unreadable, “or maybe he’d want me on my knees first.”
He approached slowly, quietly, and gently placed his hands on her arms before lightly trailing his fingers down.
Surprised by his gentle treatment, given her challenge, she hesitated, ready to apologise for her behaviour.
The tightening grip when he reached her elbows made the words catch in her throat
Suddenly, she was pulled tightly against him, the broad wall of his chest proving an impenetrable barrier against her back as her wrists were captured in one of his hands. The other clasped her throat, instantly making her freeze.
“You are a Percy,” he lightly brushed his lips over her jaw, “that means you have been well warned on the danger of stoking vampire jealousy. Would that be accurate?”
She took a breath to answer but he tsk-ed her with a shake of his head, tightening his grip
“Not a word, just nod if my assessment is accurate.”
She complied.
“Good girl,” he cooed, “I think that pretty little mouth of yours has gotten you into quite enough trouble.”
Her wrists were under his control but her fingers still had agency enough to seek out the front of his pants, lightly running her fingertips across his growing erection, making him groan quietly.
“Not yet.” She again picked up the challenge.
He was just as aroused by providing the rough treat as she was receiving it.
“You play a dangerous game little witch,” he rasped menacingly, releasing her throat momentarily to bind her wrists together with what felt to her like silk.
His tie.
Unable to move enough to touch him and with both of his hands free to do what he willed, she was in the game now.
“I assumed there would be consequences for my disrespect-“
She was cut off by a low chuckle.
“You do not decide what happens this evening, I do,” he warned, “did you think you could provoke me to anger so easily?”
“It’s like you said,” she stammered, not as sure as before, “vampire jealousy.”
“You noticed that I removed my tie before your little piece of theatre, there’s nothing you could have done to cause or prevent this.”
His hands moved to her shoulders and he gently slid the thin straps of her dress down her arm.
“Baldwin,” she protested sharply upon feeling the cool night air brush against her bare breasts, “someone might see!”
He snaked his arm around her waist, holding her tightly to him as he gently nipped at the side of her neck.
The sensation of being trapped was doing interesting things to her body and she willingly leant against him for support, softening into his control.
“There’s no-one even remotely near us,” he reached up with the hand not holding her to him to her chest, letting his index finger circle around the hardening bud of her nipple, “vampire senses come in very handy.”
“There’s no way you can hear,” she gasped at the delicious contact, “the music, the waves.”
“I can hear well enough,” he gave a gentle squeeze at her breast before placing the palm of his hand over her heart, the family signet ring on his pinkie finger somehow colder than him, “but if you’re worried about me being distracted, those are not the main contenders.”
“My heartbeat?”
“Obviously, I’m sure even you can feel it, but even that is a secondary rival for my attention.”
She didn’t reply, not verbally anyway. His words had an effect on her and like she feared he knew, they caused her to press her thighs together, an imperceptible amount to anyone else, but enough to cause him to huff slightly in satisfaction.
“Am I to guess?” She snapped, receiving a sharper nip at the side of her neck.
There was something deeply wrong with her danger senses, she feared, given the fact that she was not only putting her veins on display for a vampire, but that she was deriving pleasure from the activity.
Her trust was rewarded when he put his hand in hers, still tied behind her back.
“It is clear to me that your needs run more extreme than I thought,” his tone was gentle, calm and warm, “just know that if we continue and you push me, I will retaliate but no harder than the nip I just gave you. If you understand and accept then squeeze my hand once, if it goes too far then squeeze twice and we end the game here.”
She squeezed once and he removed his hand from her grasp to wrap it lightly around her throat. From there, he tipped her face up to look over her shoulder at him and captured her lips in a crushing kiss.
She melted against him, the kiss lighting her on fire whilst soothing something wild and afraid within.
She hadn’t even realised that he had undone the fasteners on the back of her dress until the meagre weight of the garment settled on her hips.
From the waist up, she was bare to him, the skirts of the dress still provided some modesty.
With the hand not curved around her throat, he trailed his fingers down her sternum and navel to slip suggestively into the gap between her dress and underwear.
“Good behaviour is rewarded,” he told her between kisses, “do you want to be good for me?”
She nodded, straining for him to kiss her more.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Touch me!”
He smiled a little, hand tightening around her throat as if in response.
“I already am,” he teased, brushing his lips so close to hers but still just out of her reach, “so I must assume...”
Baldwin’s fingers travelled back up towards her navel and she fidgeted in his grasp.
“Be still!” He warned and she somehow managed to contain her movements.
“Aren’t you well behaved!” He taunted before slipping his hand inside her panties, causing her to gasp at the sensation of his cool skin against her warmth.
“I think if I don’t take you soon you may combust!” He murmured, stroking a finger between her folds, slick with desire.
He touched, teased and tested her readiness until she was a writhing, flushed and pliable putty.
In what seemed like a flash, he removed the tie, freeing her arms and turning her to face him.
He kissed her deeply and lifted her with her legs around his waist to the rocks where he effortlessly pinned her between himself and the sun warmed stone.
Pulling her underwear aside, he freed himself from just enough of his own clothes as necessary, then, with a nod of consent, he pushed into her warm, welcoming depth.
“You feel exquisite,” he groaned, pulling back slightly to push back in.
She clutched her fingers in the material of his shirt with the delicious sensation of being filled to the point of almost discomfort.
It had been a long time.
Baldwin gripped her thighs as he took her, hard, seeming to know exactly what she needed and he had her there much faster than anyone before.
“Baldwin” she cried, desperately trying to stop herself tipping over the edge, it was too quick, “I can’t, can’t stop.”
“You needed this, take it,” he kissed her as she shuddered in his arms, “and worry not little witch, this evening is far from over!”
Eileen woke as the sun started it’s ascent higher, 11am, according to the watch on the bedside, the watch still there as it’s vampire wearer himself was still asleep.
His skin was cooling her body under the hot Mediterranean climate, as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. The light cover tested loosely around their waist.
His heart beneath her hand barely beat as his chest rose and fell with shallow breathing.
He smelled tremendous, the Roman style bath he treated her to after their various exertions still bore the scents of the oil he gently cleansed her with, taking care to massage it into shoulders, wrists, anywhere he had earlier bound.
He then masterfully scraped off the oil with the strigil. A very intimate action given they were both naked at the time. A situation that normally might have been a cause of self-consciousness, at that time, after having been so thoroughly worked by his god-like stamina, she could only enjoy his attention.
The last thing she wanted to do was get up, disturb their peace so she huddled closer, her leg rubbing gently against his own, then she felt it brush her thigh.
Hard and cool as the marble in his frigidarium was his proud erection, now free from the confines of the fabric due to her movement.
She knew he was large, intimately so, but the sheer light of day exposed his skill in helping her to take so much of it.
Arousal twisted in her stomach at the sight of his powerful body and, mesmerised, she moved down the bed.
The first few quiet moans from him were gained from taking just the head into her mouth.
He didn’t actually awaken until she was halfway down the shaft.
“I see you’re still getting into trouble with that pretty little mouth of yours!” He grinned sleepily, lightly brushing his fingers across her cheek.
She released him with a definitive pop.
“It’s past sunrise,” she gazed up at him wantonly, her hand grasping tighter on his shaft, eliciting a hiss of arousal, “You’re no longer in charge.”
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hm,” she nodded, licking the tip of his cock for emphasis, “you just have to lie there and let me take care of you.”
There was a clear war in his mind from the frown on his brows to the half closed lids of his eyes.
“That’s not happening,” he brushed the hair from her face, “this trip is about you!”
“Now it’s about me showing my appreciation.”
Before he could respond, she took him into her mouth again, one hand on the base of his shaft as the other trailed up his body to rest over his heart.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his heart beating more insistent than before and she felt his muscles start to flex in an attempt to sit upright.
The wide eyed look of surprise on his face when he found himself pinned beneath her was satisfying as she again let him pop from her mouth.
“How-“ he inhaled sharply.
“You’ve never been with an earth witch, have you?”
“I’ve never been with a witch,” he confessed, “how are you preventing me from moving?”
“I can stop, if you want,” she offered with sincerity, “you’re probably not used to not being in control?”
“It’s disconcerting,” he admitted, “but you trusted me, perhaps it’s only right that I submit myself into your capable hands.”
“Are you telling me, after all the experience you’ve had, and how much you give, no-one has wanted to do this?”
“They have,” he admitted, “but, as you say, I like being in control.”
“Then, do I have your consent to continue?”
She felt the tension that settled into his muscles relax as he relaxed back onto his pillow.
He tilted his head to the side in an exaggerated attempt to study her proposal and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.
“It appears I am in your hands Madame,” he grinned, “but please, I ask only that you are gentle with me.” He teased with infuriatingly attractive confidence.
She responded by placing a timid kiss on the tip whilst staring up at him with the most doe-eyed expression she could manage.
“As beautiful as you were last night,” he combed his fingers through her hair, “I must tell you, right now, you’re easily the most radiant creature I have ever seen.”
“You’re only saying that because I have your cock in my hands!”
“I’m saying that because it’s the truth, and another thing,” he tipped her chin up with his finger to force her attention on his gaze, “I’m in love with you.”
Whatever grasp on her earth witch powers allowed her to anchor on top of him was evaporated by his revelation.
Taking the opportunity of the upper hand, he pulled her to him and under him.
“Baldwin, I-“
“Don’t say anything,” he smiled gently, “it was my time to say it, if you feel the same way and find the right time for you, I’ll be there to hear it.”
Eileen bit her bottom lip as a mixture of pleasure and emotion combined into a heady mixture in her veins whilst Baldwin tested her readiness to take him once again.
With a push he was sheathed inside but stayed his movement for a moment to slip his arms beneath hers and brace his forearms at either side of her head.
The close quarters allowed him the capability to kiss her cheeks gently, then her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally, her lips. His hand gently cradled the back of her head as he started to move.
Overwhelmed by his admission and the tenderness of his actions, she buried her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder and her obligingly held her there until he felt her tighten around him.
“Baldwin, I-“
“I know, you’re almost there,” he soothed when she grasped at his back, “I’ve got you.”
He felt her flutter around him and took his own pleasure when he heard her speak.
“I love you too.”
After lunch, with the table in front of them covered in various documents and arrangements, they planned their immediate future.
“I’m not looking forward to packing,” Eileen rolled her eyes, “but it’s a small price to pay.”
“About that?”
“What?”
“I already had your things moved to the apartment I told you about. I’ll feel better with you close by, even on a different floor.”
“And we need a family friendly story.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well,” she laughed, “when your sister asks to hear the grand tale of our confessing our feelings for each other I can hardly tell her that her brother said it whilst her friend had his cock in her hand-“
“And your friend said it when the aforementioned brother brought her to yet another satisfying conclusion.”
“We’ll say beach!” Both suggested in tandem.
#baldwin montclair#a discovery of witches#adow#baldwin de clermont#adow baldwin#adow baldwin fic#adow fic
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DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #3
3. Transformation Central
the entities of my personalities would like to come together in one voice that speaks through me, we or I call this collection of words from the mustiest corners of my brain to this note page to voice something that might come close to what I feel underneath the skin I wear. In all my unorganised words- I might even go as far as to call this a poem, titled:
‘TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL’
sub characters in my head would appreciate if this could be visualised & understood through as deep a lens as humanly possible. even I confuse myself so if you can decode or relate to any of this, wonderful. If not, I’m locked in my own mind, swallowed the keys to my soul.
SIMILARITIES & INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN HUMAN & PLANT CONSCIOUSNESS EXIST! if you look closely at my nose freckles you’ll see the resemblance of the constellations above. if you look at the human veins & the layout of a tree, this is further proof.
{VISUALS THROUGH A SEPIA WINDOW STARING @ THE AUTUMN LEAFS; IMAGINING THE SEEDS UNDERNEATH, THROUGH NUMB ROOT VESSELS THAT PERMEATE THROUGH EVERY MEMBRANE OF MY EXTERNAL TO INTERNAL ENVIRONMENT}
~FEATURING THE VICIOUS CYCLE OF DEPRESSION & PERFECTIONISM.
here goes:
What is this part of my mind ?
If you want; delve inside-
I may look sweet like Alice,
but underneath it all
I deteste looking in the mirror
-cos I see the mad hatter.
my inner child needs a platter-
full of care not distortion & abuse pls.
less fibbin would’ve been a breeze.
now following the dead fish in the stream!
HOW on EARTH do I fit with the cod & the Haddock?
I’m the rainbow fish- beat & battered.
dim my own light cos I’m too afraid to shine.
alone.
thieves tried to steal my shiny scales.
I sat and watched them grow.
In the sea realm they were mean gargantuan selfish whales, with poisonous shark fangs & alligator tails. scorpion hands. (gremlins)
and still they make me feel like the alien-
I cant take it.
Make it make sense ?
I can’t.
controller in my hand-
Off balance stance.
anxiously I move round like a wobbly jelly.
where’s the button to balance my chi & shut out the ego ?
the teLLIE telling lies to our vision!
change the channel aura terracotta orange- daily dosage of vitamin D & C.
catch me sun gazing by the sea
head buzzin like a bee.
speaking from a dusty box
stuck on top of a forbidden shelf
cos I dunno how else.
I’m tryna delve deep but forgot how to dive
How can i visualise? scenery foggy-
the establishment man with the glue gun got me xD
inner monk burning but at peace
Cos I refuse to believe
If the only way is the American dream
Interconnected; like the frog in science -let’s dissect it!
down to every floating atom spirit neighbouring your door
subcategories & divisions, it’s more!
than the rich and the poor -prism that’s been built
do we all feel like a performance monkey on stilts?
will my data be extracted & used to mould a robots personality some day?
well obviously not.
does the price of our lives all amount down to slave ways?
LABOUR YAY!
but morals & values it seems we’ve forgot.
sO If i don’t speak its cos I’m lost.
or maybe i’m enlightened-
Standing at the edge of the porch;
watching TRYING to understand how the flowers grow.
questioning eVERYTHING man made!
I’ve stepped out of the perfect picture frame
I can see the coal pollute the sky
I need to hop on the train-
but I’m comfortable
Sunset to sunrise statue standing still.
what’s the ingredients to life’s yucky pie?
I’ve exceeded mental lotteries.
Sanity n universal peace would be a trophy.
TIL then I’ll be crafting & shaping a solid pottery reality,
with a few pence, gum, and a bandana of belongings tied to stick.
thinking one day I’ll be laying the bricks
& building a kingdom of bliss.
guess for now I’ll use the intricate delicate materials in my tool box- that’s all I’ve got.
might have a long way- maybe worth a shot.
I observe, cruisin in the sky.
dunno why..
I jus look @ the hills.
Only time & history reveals.
no thanks mr men-
I don’t want your prescription pills.
there’s enough propaganda as it is.
I won’t jump on the merry go round-
til my core trusts & envisions we’ll actually feel safe!
I don’t want to take part in this faux fur, sweet nothings & a jack in a box punching blur, so called future.
oh and genuinely thanks quarantine-for once again, I can hear bird sounds!
guess this is me tryna speak out loud!!!...
it’s not thrilling
system time killing everything-
mother nature’s oxygen
everything is nauseating
clock ticking, I better start creating.
they should write a book on how to be free when the system set us up to believe that we’re tied to the cut down trees that gives them a currency of greed that they breed.
If blindfolded, I don’t wanna eat what they feed.
Whilst they profit of us -tell us smile and the bandits don’t wanna see us happy.
they’re too busy robbing all our hoods.
In exchange for the silence, they’ve granted us with a 21’st century fashion garment of a slave muzzle! labelled conform.
More delusion to add to the already desensitised norm.
zootonic diseases, welcome covid 19 to your plastic kiddy tea party!- apologies for questioning your motive!
Been handed too many hot plates with a post it note saying HOLD THIS.
we’ll be okay just hush.
Same Shan message told to every generational seed.
If we don’t TRY overpower-
we’ll never succeed!
it’s getting even more scary.
Artificial intelligence.
Societal negligence..
my canvas isn’t clear-dunno am I schizo ?
finger painting, cos it makes more sense.
struggling to blend.
borderline conspiracist pretending to be fine;
moving the goal post, hovering above the race line.
who made the chalk? who set the lanes?
I wanna know it all, maybe¿ far past insane.
I can fit all I need in the palm of my hand,
Maybe even less! cut a finger off not sure it’ll even add stress.
hi from personality Peter, even sober- always away with the fairies.
Pass the pixie dust, I’m in a rush
Found shelter in the comfort of pan physicists timer, no not the one on your phone!
Ring ring, skeptical! is it my demon or my mommy on the phone?
I’m stuck in the airspace of an infinite glass filled with beach particles trying to form myself standing up still attempting not to slip through the hands of my very own discovery.
time is running out & ill go when I go.
I’m sitting inside the fly trap -
stardust, chakras can you feel the sensation colors like a starburst.
deep emotion is a curse.
still entrapped in the sand dune of nothingness-
flipping a domino monopoly of solidified thoughts as I sway with the wind.
I’m the trapped sandbox in the playground & the slipping sand in my own hands.
Inhale chronic but I wanna enter the quiet realm of white noise
-color of a wife beater vest, calmer than the ease in ignorance of a red neck.
sadomasochistic, messes.
but oblivion, seems like less stress.
Unfortunately I can see, with all eyes
empathetic paralysis, gets me vexed.
Punching truth into the core of your chest!
It’s not funny, neither is the one on the receiving end..
My limbs are numb
& im done playing octopus alchemy.
I want minimalism & life can be simple,
Evil entities have made it hard.
Maybe I’ve got stars above my head like an old cartoon character.
But I can’t make it make sense, are they out to get me. worse all of us? Or have I bottled myself tryna re mesh the broken shards,
I feel glued to the floor cos there’s a pretty price to pay if you want more.
I see life through a different lense, maybe born downside up, Benjamin button I came out the back door-
Outside looking in, digesting confusion.
Is to be a product of environment a sin?
rummage through my messy brain.
personalities sardine packed in this tin
I’m the wizard of my mania
Scaring & attracting the black crows-
they’re my friends.
Sometimes still a cowardly lion
Roaring pain & true riddles at the wrenching wicked witch posse of the west.
will my voice ever be loud enough to shed light wit my words and grate the sweet zest
In to the cake i’m baking?
Probably not.
Got more thoughts than the autumn leaves collected by the garden rake. alone.
gathering & storing the pains of yesterday.
sometimes I stay in line
Other times in my head Im on my hands juggling out of time.
but I really don’t mind if I lose or win.
we all have a pace
I jus don’t want the 1% to win the race.
It’s unfair!
Humanity does anyone care ??
Half lady
half fairy
Good MOOrning-
from my anagrams.
no I’m not a cow.
twister fidget spinner brain in the flesh-
form of expression this time around lyrics.
feel I’m jus a silly rubix
& still mourning
I don’t like dairy
pass the oat milk.
Are you aware the industry are sabotaging our diets?
we want peace!
the powerful elite-
perceive & deceive
the scene they want us to be.
chuck the narcissistic psychopathic pie back in our face-
every time we almost found & addressed the Programme & Control man in the maze.
evil & extroverted- he said that the anarchists have to be the cause of riots.
working isn’t class. I said let’s switch roles- he said pass.
It’s piss! Who’s got the bomb & the guns?
Who got the land? off wit OUR heads 4 fun!
it’s pure scary.
Pharmaceutics handshake.
with the cooked up suppliers, also crooked wack liars.
I’d rather shot a gallon of bloody blubbery infused slaughter house milk
If it meant we didn’t use cocoons for silk.
why not add a drizzle of bleach to the concoction & maybe that’s a reach.
every time I guzzle fakeness, it taste peak.
I want real fruit, what next-
a seedless peach ???
what’s the difference between a weirdo & a freak?
layers & levels to the shit.
Magnifying tapping the window of society, I’ll be puffing green til I get to the land of Oz.
sponge soaked soaking up emotions
Suffocated by deduction of care in life
feel entrapped in this paradigm
what am I thinking ?
got the verbs & a cuppa tea
It’s mixed with torment & desire to be free.
I’d rather be awake than asleep
When I get too comfy I feel weak
Demons they reap
underneath
rip the seems as I bleed
Concrete
Solid
Emotions
Is all you’re getting
It’s all sad scenes in the imagery I’m setting
people need care we seem to be forgetting
why are we in debt wit
a posse of clowns
pay the price so we can get a frown
here’s some seratonin
quit ya moaning
life is all sound
aw yeh¿ if you’re not an over thinker!
product of environment- Sirius flickers
theyve done a ritual like it’s Wicca
now here’s your gold sticker..
for managing to co operate.
In this world fuelled off of evil n hate
waking ups a bloody disgrace
I am not amazed.
Man I love my fam n my friends
Just hate this part of my brain that feels the need to play pretend
sometimes I feel insane
but I’m calm
need to escape so I don’t do harm
Gold lioness in the sky by the sea
with puff the magic dragon
fire out my mouth, fuel helps me breathe
I will shine bright
Promise imma be alright
even tho I’m not sure why
I function like this
I wanna be myself
It’s just hard to find the comfortability
To feel happy and pretty
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Ring around sing about overdose emotions
Sorry dunno how to communicate
Heads in a constant debate
Should I go or should I stay
My head clashes
Burnin the next ciggy as my thoughts become ashes.
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The Dwelling Gods - Contact
Risen Terra, 400 Post Transcendence (2863 Astra Federation Standard Calendar)
Lucifer, Our native star, rises in the morning and wakes Us up better than any alarm clock. No matter how often the light stabs Us in the eyes because We left the blinds open, We never quite get used to it.
We start the day by managing to fall out of bed, which sounds about right. I take mental stock of Ourselves while I file my dreams away to look at later. Everything seems in order, which means that We are still Alexandra Orlstasz.
It’s not that I expected different out of Orlstasz, my God and constant companion. It’s that the first friend that stops being themselves teaches you to worry, and the second teaches you good habits.
We will be required Orlstasz tells me, in Our mind. They whisper, as is the way of the Dwelling Gods. They are coming here to retrieve Our talents.
We take a look at the wreck that is Our apartment. “Guess We have some cleaning to do.”
It’s Covenant Day my God reminds me, as I pick myself up off of the floor to begin my morning stretches.
“I haven’t forgotten,” I tell them. I start with the mental stretches - this morning’s gets to be telekinesis, since I need to clean anyway - and then start the physical ones after I’ve got a good rhythm going. “I know We’d wanted to visit the Hall of the Pact this year, but if someone’s coming to get Us - I don’t suppose you know if We’re gonna have free time later?”
Precognition. Not one of my areas of expertise (my telekinesis isn’t too hot either; a more serious practitioner could clean up my messy apartment with a flick of her wrist, including the dirt in the carpet and closing out the books open in my piles of touchscreen e-readers), but something the Gods excel at without trying. Imprecise, but a maybe’s better than a no, as they say.
Orlstasz’s voice becomes many voices, which whisper an argument with one another with furious speed. I wince in pain - it’s like sandpaper against the back of my eyes - and nearly drop the dishes I’m sorting into the dishwasher.
Unclear. We may die today.
The plate I’m holding in my mind hits the floor with a loud crash. I take several long, calming breaths and try not to direct the knot of angry emotions just over my heart at my God. “Let’s just do Our best to make good decisions then.”
Orlstasz whispers a laugh in Our mind.
We put the finishing touches on cleaning Our apartment after Our stretches - there’s some jobs I’m not about to trust to my sloppy telekinesis - and then take a quick shower, scrubbing down fast both so We can enjoy some of the festivities while We still can and because being told you might die today gives things a certain sense of urgency. We dress up for the day - Our shiniest pair of formal boots, black slacks, the gray-and-violet uniform top We haven’t worn since last Covenant Day (our spell in Risen Terra’s planetary forces being long done with), elbow-length gloves done in soft leather. The gloves have definitely been worn; they’re laced with psionic circuitry that helps me in my research.
And then We get out of Our apartment at indecent speeds and out into the fresh air outside.
Waking with the sunrise in the young spring has Us up pretty early, but people start up the Covenant Day festivities the night before. Gray-and-violet flags emblazoned with the Phoenix fly everywhere, and the streets are thick with music and celebrants, most of them terrans (we’re the ones who made the Covenant, after all), though there’s plenty of others. We pass a young ibraxian making the classic mistake of confusing their number of available tentacles for the number of objects they can hold at the same time and steady the soda they’re about to drop with a quick flick of Our wrist.
We reply to their chirp of relief with a quick wave and a, “Happy Covenant Day!” in a bright voice before We focus on getting to the front of the nearby food truck’s line before everyone else decides it’s breakfast time. You can only get a proper wasteland fry-up around Covenant Day, maybe because the rest of the year it just feels weird bringing up the time before spaceflight when we terrans casually annihilated our own planet with nuclear fire. Even today, after centuries of environmental cleanup, Risen Terra is a fairly unpopular place to immigrate to. But We like crispy, salty food like We like nothing else, so the basket of absolutely blasted vegetables, meat strips, dried fruit, and pickles We buy for breakfast tastes like pure joy. Dehydrating, but pure.
We catch the voice of Our neighbor across the hallway, Augustus Nistral: “Alexandra! Are the two of you working today of all days?”
We give Augustus a wan smile; They’re an older pair, pushing a hundred and sixty, and more than a little traditionalistic. “Our God says We just might be. And if anyone’s bothering Us today of all days...”
Augustus gives Us a dignified nod. “It must surely be urgent. May the Dwelling Gods whisper good tidings to you, then.”
“And you as well,” We tell him. Augustus heads straight for the same food truck We just left, and We focus on finishing my basket.
Orlstasz’s constant low whispers resolve into their actual voice: They are coming. We should return to Our apartment.
We sigh and toss Our empty basket in the trash. Let’s see who might be getting Us killed today.
*
It’s the better part of an hour before someone knocks on Our apartment door, an hour We spend pacing, straightening and re-straightening our shelves, and trying to figure out who could use a civilian post-cognitive on Covenant Day of all days. The government? No, surely they can wait. The Listeners? But they’re ministering the holiday right now. Who -
They are here my God whispers in Our mind, about half a second before We hear the knock on Our door. Precognition can be real handy, but it can also be this annoying shit. We rush over to the door, open it up, and it’s the Admiralty.
Old instincts make Us salute while Orlstasz whispers their laughter at Us.
“At ease, Doctor Alexandra Orlstasz,” the admiral answers. We know her; Federation Admiral Alekto Molteira, Risen Terra’s commanding officer in the Astra Federation’s fleets and hero of five interstellar wars. They’re pushing a hundred and eighty years old but the popular thought is that they’ll only die if given a direct order to leave this mortal coil.
We drop Our salute and step aside from the door. “Please, come in! Can We offer you anything? Tea, perhaps?”
The Admiral gives Us a weary sigh and steps into the apartment, removing their cap. “After the day We’ve had, tea would be a gift. I’m afraid We must ask you to activate your privacy protocol as well. This will be a matter of some delicacy.”
We activate it from the console next to Our door; the apartment’s systems cut it off from access to the wider ‘net, shut the blinds, lock all of the doors and windows, and activate a white noise generator. We set an alarm on Our wrist communicator for fifty minutes; a dead-man’s switch built into the privacy protocol will summon the police in an hour if We don’t check in, just in case an intruder turned the thing on and decided to rob the place or kill Us. Then We get busy with the tea.
“We’re sorry to call on you today,” the Admiral says from the living room. “If the matter were not urgent, We would never dream of it.”
“We believe you,” We tell them. We set the kettle on the stove, turn it on, and return to the living room. The Admiral’s sharp dress uniform looks sorely out of place on Our hideous couch. “How may We serve the Phoenix?”
Admiral Alekto Molteira lets out another one of those long, weary sighs. They run their thumb along the brim of the hat in their hands. “This is a sensitive matter,” they reiterate. “Secure at the highest levels. You will need to agree to non-disclosure. If you feel that you cannot keep yourselves sufficiently shielded from telepathy, you will be provided a private quarantine. You will be compensated, with danger pay and a pension to your next of kin and designated heirs in the event of your deaths.”
My God hisses and buzzes in Our mind.
“This is a matter of life and death, isn’t it?” We ask in a soft voice. The Admiral nods without a word. “Send Us the form.”
We begin to look the form over on Our wrist communicator while attending to the now-whistling kettle. We pour two cups and float them into the living room, where We set them down on the coffee table without looking up from Our reading. When We reach the end of the form, We press Our thumb to the communicator, signaling Our consent. Admiral Alekto Molteira visibly relaxes, and We can feel the relief radiating from their mind.
The Admiral picks up their teacup and blows on it before taking a sip. They’re quiet, for a long minute. “A lifetime pass to the Demeter has been added to your ident card,” they say at last. “Go there. Attend the Covenant Day sermon. You will be found, after, and then we can call talk.”
We take a sip of Our own tea. “As the Phoenix demands.”
Admiral Alekto Molteira shakes their head. “As the Galaxy does, Doctor.”
*
The arkship Demeter carried people who might have been terrans, if things had gone differently. One of two sister ships to our own (the Persephone), Demeter was the beneficiary, and the victim, of Earth’s early experimentation with wormholes. We found New Terra and colonized it before eventually destroying ourselves and emerging from the ashes as Risen Terra.
Demeter found barren system after barren system, with their engines failing. Their last expense of power was to halt their own momentum so that they would not accidentally collide with any living civilizations that might be out there. They died, cold and alone, and when Our people found their tomb we turned it into a museum, and mausoleum, and holy site. Any citizen of the Astra Federation is welcome to visit her, in orbit around Risen Terra, and learn of our history and the home we left so long ago, for a modest fee. Getting up there on Covenant Day would ordinarily involve booking a place more than half a year in advance.
Somehow, We can’t keep our mind on the princely gift We’ve been given in the chance to be here today. We wander among the exhibits, taking in art from ancient Earth, listening to the music Our ancestors took with them on their long, dark voyage. The Demeter throngs with families - children too young to understand stop to play the old videogames and compete for high scores, arguing about if using their powers is cheating. A group of solemn spirrans meditates in the midst of a holo-display depicting the history of Earth’s wars, their fungoid bodies in sharp contrast to the noise and motion.
A telepathic chime signals that the sermon will start soon, and We filter that way with the crowd, a frown on Our lips as We bend Our mind in thought.
I do not wish to experience death Orlstasz tells Us. It is too soon. We have not yet begun to age.
“There might not be a choice,” I murmur back; the others near me pick up the low-level telepathic signals that let them know that We are talking amongst Ourselves. “We are needed.”
We were offered a choice.
We shake Our head. “There are more covenants than this, O Dwelling God. We are called to pay Our debts.”
Orlstasz subsides to buzzing whispers that make my eyes ache. They’re thinking, and for my part I can hardly pay attention; I sit down, head bowed, and try to focus on the sermon. I can’t.
Would you leave the Covenant, if you could? my God asks. Something about their whispering voice is strange and distant, as if Orlstasz is unsure of themselves. Would you be free of me, and solely Alexandra?
It’s a serious question, and I give it the courtesy of serious thought. Around me, in the crowd, are many other terrans with their heads bowed in serious communion with their Dwelling Gods. To be free of the painful whispers, of secrets I don’t want to know? To wake up in the morning and not have to sort through what parts of Our mind are me and what parts are divine?
“No,” I murmur, at long last. “...No, I would not. And I don’t think my people would either.”
We hurt you my God says.
I nod. “But you honor the Covenant. We bargained with each other in good faith, without...coercion, without malice. The Dwelling Gods have always given the friendship they promised, and who would I - who would we all - be if we spurned it?” I drift into a long silence, letting the words of the sermon pass over me without really paying attention to them. When I speak again, my voice is barely a whisper. “You are our Gods. We once endured much more for the friendship of the divine. We endure much more for the love and friendship of the other mortal races. We would be something low and wretched indeed to turn our backs on you now.”
The people of the Phoenix are not like others who have bargained with us Orlstasz tells Us, and then the God subsides. We let out a long breath and do Our level best to focus on the rest of the sermon.
As promised, a shipman finds Us after the sermon and guides Us through the Demeter, towards the ancient ship’s medical facilities. Signs mark them off as closed to the public, and the armed marines just inside the doorway seem like they’re serious about that. A hard-faced petty officer steps signals for Us to follow them while the shipman shuts and locks the door behind us.
“Keep your mind to yourselves,” the petty officer warns Us. “For your own safety. There are active hive mind artifacts within psionic range, and they will kill you as dead as you can die.”
“Understood,” We answer, with a shudder. Hive minds...
We are escorted into a morgue, surprisingly both active and in possession of corpses. We recognize one immediately as one of Risen Terra’s soldiers (the descenders who fight land wars in the name of the Phoenix); their eyes are gone, and their face, mouth, and chest are a mess of blood. They must have made telepathic contact with the hive mind somehow, probably by mistake.
The other body We don’t quite recognize. They look terran, but We’ve never seen their uniform (a hardened combat suit in urban camo colors, with a shattered faceplate) before, nor the curious, map-like symbol emblazoned on its shoulder. They, too, show the symptoms of hive mind contact, with eyes boiled out of their skull and blood splattered everywhere. Admiral Alekto Molteira waits for Us next to the bodies.
“Doctor Alexandra Orlstasz, as ordered,” the petty officer announces formally.
“Very good. You are dismissed,” the Admiral answers. My escort salutes and leaves the room, with no small amount of relief visible on their face. “Doctor. You took in the exhibits?”
“Yes, Admiral. We are ready.”
Admiral Alekto Molteira gathers their thoughts for a moment before beginning: “Approximately five months ago, our border outposts near the Gataxis Pure States detected an open distress call. Their rimward colonies were under attack by an unknown force, and in-depth sensor readings and autopsy reports confirmed hive mind activity. The Astra Federation weighed the matter and voted unanimously to come to their aid.”
We stare. “To the aid of the omnicidal xenophobes?”
“Don’t interrupt Us,” the Admiral tells Us firmly. “We are well aware that the Pure States would not return the favor. The Eighteenth and Ninth Federation Fleets were sent in to relieve the defenders, alongside the Eight Transport Fleet and its contingent of marines. They made landfall on the colony of Roylan and met the hive mind in battle. You have been brought here to clarify certain matters pertaining to that battle, if you believe you can do so safely.”
It’s a good question. Postcognition isn’t the same as telepathy, but any mental contact with a hive mind is dangerous. They’re so large and active that your brain simply explodes inside of your skull.
“We presume these two were there,” We reason. “We don’t recognize this person, though. Are they one of your commandos, or -” We reach for the strange-uniformed body and have Our wrist snatched in an iron grip by the Admiral. “Admiral, We need to touch the body to read it,” We tell them.
“That’s not one of ours,” the Admiral tells Us. We look at them in confusion, still restraining Our psionics to the confines of Our own mind. “Doctor...”
“Just say it,” We tell them. Their grip is like a vice around Our wrist.
“Doctor, that body is one of the hive mind’s drones.”
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🎶 I imagined a night for us, girl all night, show me your tattoos, if it’s alright 🎶
a/n: this is highly suggestiveㅡlol no who am i kidding this is smut bc im jaehyun’s hoe on the last day of her period what do u expect im sorry for playing favorites but a hoe is a hoe and im fucking thirsty
i’ve placed a keep reading line, but in case it doesn’t work, it’s not my fault bc the tumblr app is a bitch like that
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Who would have thought local goody two shoes, Jung Jaehyun, was interested in the likes of you?
While he aced his classes and studied at the library until sundown, you barely passed yours and partied until sunrise. He was known in campus as everyone’s first love and you were labelled as resident heartbreaker. His hair was always brushed, seldom times styled, and his skin was flawless while you kept yours either wild and free, or up in a messy bun and beneath your clothes, your skin was marred with tattoos.
No one would have ever guessed that Jaehyun would have even considered you as a candidate to be his girlfriend, let alone catch the two of you in the same room at the summer vacation kick off party.
You honestly didn’t bother with him, assuming he thought you were nothing but a troublemaker. So when you locked eyes with him and saw the faintest blush tinge his cheeks, to say you were curious was an understatement.
You had thought he was embarrassed for getting caught at staring at you, but you notice him following you around the party and your interest was piqued. You decide to gauge his reaction towards your behavior; you danced to the loud bass music, seeing his eyes twinkle when your friends laughed along with you as you sang loudly to the lyrics of the song. His face grew stoic, gaze dark with jealousy, when you danced with guys, grinding your ass against their crotches and letting their hands roam your body.
When you’ve had enough, you stumble to the kitchen and grab a drink. As you pour yourself a cup of tequila, you see Jaehyun amble into the room from your peripheral vision. Smiling to yourself, you hoist yourself up on the kitchen island, letting your dress bunch up your thighs, and take one of the pre-sliced lime wedges from the bowl.
“Hey, Yuta! Up for a body shot?” You yell, voice just louder than the music. A few guys cheer and Yuta grins, walking up to you.
“You know I’m always down for a body shot if it’s from you.” He jams his body between your legs and you roll your eyes, handing him the cup of tequila.
“Requests on salt and lime placement?” You ask in the fakest, sweet voice you can muster.
“Tits and lips, baby, you already know.” Yuta winks, tipping the cup at you and taking a small sip.
With another roll of your eyes, you take a pinch of salt that’s already served by the limes. Yuta leans forward, licking a wet stripe between your breasts that are revealed from the plunging neckline of your dress, and you press the salt particles there, successfully sticking them on.
He waits for you to place the lime between your lips before leaning back down, collecting the salt from the valley of your chest, pulling away to take a gulp of tequila, and finally pulling your face towards him to bite into the lime--and Yuta, being the sly boy that he is, made sure his lips grazes yours.
As you discard the lime from your lips, Yuta is already handing you a new one.
“Nuh-uh, twice in a row isn’t as fun.” You scoff, letting your eyes wander over to Jaehyun, who you had momentarily forgotten. His head is low while Sicheng talks to him, but judging from his red ears; he must have been watching the whole thing.
Yuta groans, looking around, “Hey, Sicheng! Want a body shot from [Y/N]?”
“No, thanks.” He declines, shooting you an apologetic smile.
You shrug as a reply. Sicheng might like parties, but he’s always been the most conservative in your circle of friends.
After a disappointed frown was sent over Sicheng, Yuta’s attention moves onto the man by him. “Oh, hey Jaehyun! How about you?”
“W-what?” Jaehyun looks over with a flustered expression and you were sure by now that he had been watching.
“Take a body shot with [Y/N]!”
He hesitates, eyes drifting towards you.
“Come on, Jaehyun! Summer is here, you gotta loosen up! It’s rare enough for her to invite guys to do body shots, but it’s even rarer for you to be at parties!” When Jaehyun doesn’t move, Yuta steps away from you to go over to him and drag him over. “You guys know each other right?”
“Of course, who doesn’t know our university’s golden boy?” You drawl, tilting your head to the side.
Jaehyun continues to blush, “Uhm, yeah, we went to the same elementary before.”
This makes you gawk at him, trying to remember his face from years ago. “We were?!”
He’s a bit disheartened to know you didn’t know that fact, but nods his head to confirm.
“Enough chitchat, take a shot, [Y/N]. Maybe it’ll help you jog your memory.” Yuta pushes Jaehyun towards you.
“Yuta, stop.” You groan, “Stop forcing others to take shots with me. Besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin the image of our golden boy.”
“I-” Jaehyun chokes out before Yuta can complain, “I don’t mind. I’ve just never done a body shot before.”
“Well lucky for you, I consider myself an expert.” You place a hand on his shoulder and lightly urge him to stand in between your legs. You bite back a knowing grin when Jaehyun’s gaze lingers at the sight of your bare thighs, curious eyes wondering what it looked like beneath the folds of your dress. “Would you mind if I did the shot on you?”
He shakes his head, finally bringing his eyes up to yours. “Not at all, do as you like.”
“As I like?” You grinned widely, glancing briefly at Yuta who is equally amused. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, man, Jaehyun, what I would give to be in your place.”
“Why? How do you like your body shots?”
Instead of answering, you pop the few buttons of his dress shirt until his collarbones are exposed. He didn’t seem to complain, but you can feel his body go rigid from your touch. “Relax, okay? I like my shots with salt on your collarbone, tequila in the dips above your clavicle, and a peeled lime wedge in your mouth.”
“In... my mouth?”
You nod your head, “Are you sure I can have it my way?”
“Y-yeah...” He mumbles and you honestly didn’t expect that response.
While Yuta cheers him on, you prepare for your shot; instructing him to tense up his shoulders so the dip between the base of his throat and collarbone can be deep enough to hold a shot. You pour the alcohol into the small well of his body and placed salt in the other. Quickly peeling a lime wedge, you pop it into his mouth, not missing the harsh breath he exhales.
“Here I go.” You whisper into his ear before ducking down, licking up the salt you placed. You felt him shiver, but you continue to the other side, slurping up the tequila. You throw your head back to let the alcohol burn down your throat, cupping Jaehyun’s cheeks to pull him closer. You slip your tongue between his lips, searching for the lime wedge you fed him, but was met with only the sour juice it produces.
With a weak indignant noise from your throat, you coaxed his tongue into yours; gently sucking the wet muscle and stripping it of the flavors of the fruit. His hands have settled on your hips, gripping tightly whenever you tried to take control of the kiss. Your hands have slithered over his shoulders, amazed at how broad they were and how the muscles beneath his shirt felt firm.
If it wasn’t for the rude wolf whistle from god know who, you wouldn’t have pulled away from Jaehyun’s lips.
“Sorry, I juiced the lime in my mouth.” He says, a little out of breath.
“Don’t be. I think I liked that better.” You whisper back.
Yuta snorts, reminding both of you that he was still very much present. “Well, I know when I’m not wanted. That was hot, by the way, I should have recorded it.”
“Ew, Yuta.” You grimaced at him, but he only laughs at you, walking away to wherever.
Jaehyun moves his thumbs around, drawing circles on your hips and bringing your attention back to him. His eyes are dark and glazed over, “Do you want head upstairs?”
Your lips quirk up into a smirk, “Sure.”
It didn’t take long for the two of you to find an unoccupied bedroom and have Jaehyun hovering over your frame. He straddles your hips, gliding a hand over your abdomen to feel your dress’ fabric.
“This is practically a night gown.” He remarks.
“That’s because it is.” You giggle. When your roommate had reminded you of the party, you were already dressed down to enjoy your Netflix marathon that would eventually bore you to sleep. You didn’t think you were out to impress anyone so you threw on a denim jacket over your pink satin nightie, slipped on your sneakers, applied some lip gloss, and deemed yourself ready. “Had I known I was seducing the university’s golden boy, I would have dressed more accordingly.”
“Oh no, this is fine, this is,” He starts to push your denim jacket off your shoulders and you sit up a bit to take it off, “Hot. God, none of my wet dreams about you can compare to this.”
“About me?” This knocks out the flirty tone of your voice and is replaced by genuine surprise.
“I’ve always liked you, [Y/N]. Since we were kids. I changed my name a few years back--I’m Yoonoh.”
"You were the fat back then!” You blurted out, recoiling a bit when Jaehyun’s expression falls flat. “Wait, no! Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, but you were! Damn! Puberty has been kind to you.”
“I can say the same to you.” His hand travels up your chest, lightly brushing his palm over them. “I was always curious about your tattoos, you know.”
You hum, “I only have one. People keep adding non-existent tattoos on me.”
“What is it?”
“Why don’t you look for it?”
His eyes glint, accepting the challenge. He hooks his fingers to the flimsy straps of your dress and drag them down your arms, low enough until it exposes your boobs and he lets out a soft groan. He takes a breast into each hand, softly palming them.
“So the rumors about you getting your nipples pierce are fake?” He brings his mouth over one of them, lightly licking your nub while his fingers tweaked the other.
A gasp escapes you, “Oh, I got a piercing, and you can go find that one, too. It’s not that far from the tattoo.”
He peeks at you through his lashes, chuckling a bit. He pushes the skirt of your nightie up until he exposes your belly, expecting to see the piercing but is dumbfounded to see it absent. “What?”
You bite down a laugh when you see his eyes travel lower, finally spotting your tattoo just above the garter of your panties.
“Eat up.” You read the tattoo for him. You got it after losing to a dare with your roommate. She chose where and what to put, but at least you were able to decide the design; keeping it simple with a san-serif typeface.
It makes him smirk, the quirk of his lips bringing out his famed dimple onto his cheek. But then it dawns him: the piercing.
He looks at you in silent affirmation of his suspicion, but you only bite down on your lip and lift your hips up so he could get your panties off.
Once they slid off your legs and tossed aside, his eyes see it: the small pearl-like gray metal piercing on your clit.
“Shit, that’s so hot.” Jaehyun sighs, gently sweeping the pad of his thumb over it.
Your hips buck up involuntarily at the stimulation, “It feels good, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Not only for me,” You rest back on the pillow and spread your legs wider for him. “I heard it feels nice on tongues, too.”
He snickers, running his hands over your thighs. “Is that so?”
You nod, raising your hips up, not caring if you’re starting to look a little desperate. “Hmm, so why don’t you try, Jae?” You find yourself mischievously grinning, “Eat up.”
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a/n: iM SORRY I HAD TO STOP ASLKDJALSKDJLASKJASKL MY WHOREMONES ARE GOING CRAZY
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