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im-the-punk-who · 3 years

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What is Some Boys Do about?

Ostensibly it’s a semi-song fic inspired by ‘Some Girls Do’ by Sawyer Brown but inostensibly it’s an excuse for me to get Michael to imitate James Dean and put adult Alex in nail polish. (Non-alien meet cute feat. never-went-to-war Alex and pathetically-bisexual Michael Guerin.)

“Nice try, Guerin, but I think I’d rather answer the drunk-text my ex sent me.”

“Harsh, DeLuca!”

Maria turns around as she heads back inside the Pony, raising her eyebrow. He gives her his best innocent smirk and she rolls her eyes, stepping off the newly built patio - you’re welcome - and back inside the bar.

Michael sips his beer, refocusing on the warm afternoon sun and the light breeze that plays through the fairy lights and decorations hanging on the structure.They both know he’s not serious, but it’s a habit they’ve fallen into over the years. Sometimes the cowboy charm works on the other bartenders to reduce his tab, and he’d hate for Maria to feel left out.

“She’s certainly impressed with you,” a voice calls from a secluded corner.

Michael hadn’t noticed the other person at all, tucked away and quiet as they were. The voice sounds familiar in a way Michael can’t place, and he turns around. And almost falls off the seat as he catches sight of none other than Alex Manes, feet up on the railing and painting his nails.

It’s been almost ten years since high school and Michael still hasn’t quite managed to forget his bi awakening in the form of the school’s resident emo kid, even though they’d rarely spoken. Hung out in the same circles, but Michael had been focused on getting grades good enough to get out of Roswell and Alex had been guarded about interacting with anyone he didn’t already know was safe.

And, well, any time they were in proximity to each other Michael both got the urge to act incredibly stupid to get Alex’s attention, and became completely mute except for the flipping of his stomach and the pounding in his chest.

By the time Michael had worked up the courage to do something about his interest in men, Alex had been long gone - he and the Ortecho sisters had left Roswell the summer after graduation for the west coast. And so Michael had swallowed the disappointment and moved on. Mostly. Now, though -

Even at 17 Alex had been stupidly pretty. Now, at 27, Michael regretted to realize he was even prettier.

Gone were the nose ring, eyeliner, and dark skinny jeans, but in their place were a patterned button-up - cuffed conveniently to show off his biceps in a way Michael definitely didn’t linger on - and neat dark wash jeans. Shiny black Docs instead of the Converses Alex had favored in high school. With a strange sense of relief, Michael thought he looked right - comfortable in his skin in a way he hadn’t when they were kids.

The black nail polish though, was apparently still a fixture. Alex looked up from the careful, even strokes he was making to lock eyes with Michael. He raised his eyebrows and Michael realized he still hadn’t actually said anything.

Smooth, Mikey.

“Well not everyone can be lucky enough to have good taste in men.” Not his smoothest comeback, but he cuts himself some slack due to the fact that half his attention is still on Alex’s hands and the way the sun is making his skin glow.

“Maria has great taste in men,” Alex shoots back with an undignified snort that should not be as endearing as it is.

“What about you?” The words are out of his mouth before his filter can catch them, and Michael decides in that moment that he would be completely fine with it if the earth decided to swallow him whole on the spot.

Alex freezes, the loose posture he’s been languishing in going rigid. Any hope Michael might have had of a hookup flies out the window as Alex stares hard into Michael’s eyes. There had always been rumors that Alex was gay, fed by Kyle Valenti and the fact that his sense of style only got more flamboyant the more he was singled out for it. But Michael had never gotten confirmation, and he figures he’s either not about to get punched or permanently kicked out of the Pony. Alex was a good friend of Maria’s, he remembers too late.

“Look I’m-”

“It’s better.”

Michael’s apology freezes on his lips.

“What?”

“My taste in men. Objectively, it’s better than Maria’s.”

Alex is still staring at him intensely, and Michael recognizes a test when he sees one. He relaxes back onto the barstool in what he hopes is an attractive sprawl and scrunches his face up.

“I’m not really sure you can be objective on that, actually.”

“No, we’ve agreed. For one, I’ve never dated a Chad.”

Michael sees his chance and goes for it.

“Neither have I, but I can’t imagine that’s the only requirement.”

As he’d hoped, Alex picks up on the hint and his eyebrows almost disappear beneath his floppy bangs for a moment. “You’re-” he leaves the statement open ended.

“I’m bi.” He leaves out the part about when he figured that out.

Alex’s feet slip off the railing, landing with twin thuds as a “Huh” escapes his lips. Alex looks at his nails like he’s considering something before he looks at Michael like he’s considering something else.

#me: i will only write indulgent fic from now on #i will only write song fic centered around country songs and everyone else can deal with that #some boys do #milo writes #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #long post #Anonymous

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moonlight-dragon · 6 years

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Allurance - Roommates AU (Home is where you are) CHAPTER 3

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The raindrops were impacting against the glass when Lance woke up. He yawned, stretching beneath the sheets before taking off his headphones. His feet landed on his slippers, leading his half-asleep body through the apartment. It was dark outside, but not a sunless dark. It was the dark that you saw underwater, surrounded by the ocean and looking up to an endless liquid sky.

The rain always made the apartment look like it had been built under the sea, or that it had suddenly became an underwater ship, travelling among the currents. Had he been at Cuba and he would already be running to scream under the falling drops… but here, well, neighbours didn’t exactly appreciate a boy laughing to the bottom of his lungs on a Sunday morning. Any day or moment in fact.

Everything always felt silent when it rained, as if the storm had absorbed every single sound except the one of its own drops, creating a world whose time seemed to pass in a completely different way. Like being in another dimension as long as the water worked its magic.

Lance smiled, resting a hand over the cold glass of the windows. No matter where you were, the rain was rain and it wasn’t hard to imagine he was in Cuba, waiting for the storm to pass accompanied by the scent of his mum’s coffee. Rain had that power, of taking him home, but the silent it always created reminded him the simple illusion it was… It never mattered how much the water poured outside, the “rain silence” had never been able to beat the noises he called home.

He breathed heavily, wanting the clouds to be the only ones creating water. He headed to the kitchen, with the idea of making coffee in his mind, a “café con leche” to bring the confident Lance back.

Allura rolled onto the other side of the bed, trying to keep her eyes shut, in hopes to stop waking up more. She wasn’t a morning person… she raised with the Moon and the Stars, not the Sun. She was ready burry herself under the blankets and ignore the obligations imposed to her by humanity’s cycles when something caught her attention. Something that simply was impossible to ignore.

Reluctantly she blinked, standing up as a sweet coffee scent found its way into the room. She wrapped her body in her robe, feeling the cold wood in her bare feet as her drowsiness resisted to leave her.

Someone was singing.

And it could be because she had just woken up, but it was beautiful. She stood in front of the door, telling herself that she would listen to it just a little before opening the door leaving the room. If it was a dream, let her enjoy it for a few more seconds.

“Well, get up, up on the dancefloor, move, it's a Saturday night

I fell in love with the sparkle in the moonlight

Reflected in your beautiful eyes

I guess that is destiny doing it right”

She slowly opened the door, following that youthful charming voice singing a song that somehow had become her favourite. Her arms stretched above her head, followed by a yawn as her feet carried her into that Mediterranean rhythm. Probably Shay had left the radio on…

And dance like they do in the Mediterranean

Spin you around me again and again, and

You're like something that God has sent me

I want you, baby, solamente (…)”

Then the song ended abruptly as her body hit someone, and when the person turned, she couldn’t help but to scream, grabbing his ear as she reduced him to the ground.

“Who are you?!” she demanded to know, acting out of instinct. “What are you doing in my house?”

“Ahhhhh, ah! Allura, it’s me! Lance!”

“Lance... Lance!” reality hit her, making her remember she didn’t live with Shay anymore, that the person she was reducing was her new roommate and that it was “his” house.

“Omg I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Si…?” he cried, massaging the ear that he almost sure he had lost. Allura was unsure of what to do, reaching her hands to him but retracting before they could touch him. That was it, he was going to kick her out. Her eyes adventured to look at him, finding Lance’s ones pinned on her. And with the sight of his face, well, she couldn’t help to start laughing.

“Sorry, I, it’s just…” her hands covered her mouth, trying to protect the little composure she had left “You cannot blame me for being scared.”

“Oh, no, you’re not the one getting an apologise here ‘Lura” he answered, standing in front of her as she tried to avoid his gaze, failing miserably.

He was singing, leaving the coffee being made in the kitchen as he headed for the bathroom, a shower in mind and then his knees hit the ground and a pain jolted throughout his body. A robbery crossed his mind, but then he caught gaze of moonlight curls and Allura’s voice was so unique for it to be mistaken.

Wow. She was strong -he could feel the power she was performing against his limbs- and she knew how to use her force. Man, he had always had a thing for women who could kick his ass… but not that literally. Ouch, that was hurting, that was hurting!

Now she was laughing, and Lance couldn’t help to think she was gorgeous. Her hair down like a mass of clouds, her blue robe and her pink nightgown. She was like a princess, a badass warrior princess. What was there not to love?

“So, what’s wrong with my looks?” he inquired, hands on his hips.

“Well, the face mask and the towel on your hair for starters” she answered, hands crossed behind her back.

“Ouch, that hurt!” his hands found a way to his heart, mimicking a shot on the beating organ. “But all necessary for Lover Boy Lance to look the way he does. Small prize for handsomeness.”

“Right, handsomeness.”

“I’m not accepting that look from a person with such pores.” he joked, getting a nervous laugh from Allura. Her hands went up to touch her face and a little worry flashed in her eyes… oh, he had taken him seriously. Fuck! “Good thing I know how to solve that.”

“You… do?”

“Indeed princess, your knight in cosmetic armour is here.”

Allura giggled. “You didn’t… hahahaha, Lance!”

She punched his arm lightly. That was good. He had noticed how unsure she had been about touching him after reducing him to the ground. If it had been other place, other time, other circumstances maybe he would have gathered the courage to say that had been hot -minus the actual pain part. But no, roommate boundaries. Things could get awkward. Because he would be meaning it, truly meaning it. And joking with real things was not okay.

“Okay almost done. Look up, look up.”

Allura had her eyes slightly shut, feeling funny as Lance’s fingers traced her skin leaving a citric scent behind. The mask he was applying to her face was cold and sticky, a mixture of lemon juice and honey that according to her “cosmetic knight” would give her a gorgeous glow. Tough she wouldn’t mind if it didn’t. Just be doing that was more than enough.

She had always loved those kind of things, DIY facial products, chatting, that kind of girl stuff. Back in England she had spent countless afternoons doing that, first with her mum and then with Romelle. She had assumed that sharing a living space with a girl in America would be the same, but it turned out reality didn’t meet her expectations. Most of the times it had been because she’d never felt close enough to the other girls to bring it up, and when she started living with Shay, tough she was the sweetest person in the world, she was aware the girl didn’t exactly enjoy it. Not that she hated it, no, more like she didn’t mind. And so, doing “girl stuff” always felt forced and, where was the fun in that?

And now there she was, letting a boy apply a mascara mixture he had in the fridge all over her face because he had dared to say she had awful pores!

“Okay, lista!” a proud look was written all over his face as he stood up to wash his hands in the kitchen sink.

“And now what?” she asked, hoping somehow, he would notice the hope she was pouring in every word. “Please let’s do something else” “Painting our nails or braiding each other’s hair…” well, her hair, his didn’t have enough length for that. “Anything Lance, please”

“Well, I’ve some nail polish Veronica left when she was here and…”

“Yes!” Allura didn’t let him finish. She jumped from her chair, cornering Lance against the kitchen counter. If she hadn’t been so excited she would have noticed the blush that blossomed in the boy’s cheeks, but her agitated mind and the perfect act he managed to put up after a few seconds made her soon forget about it.

Lance stepped into Allura’s bathroom, searching for the nail polisher as Allura herself rested her back against the door’s frame. The raindrops against the window’s glass made it look like an underwater city, where they were mermaids exploring that abandoned human place in search for hidden treasures.

He laughed to himself, sitting at the border of the bathtub and patting the space next to him, following Allura’s figure as she sat down, trying to remain calm but failing at hiding how excited she was.

“I take this is not your first time doing this.” he looked up, finding Allura’s blue eyes looking at him. They were deep like the ocean, a night ocean reflecting the infiniteness of the universe, as if the stars had melted into the water. Maybe if he took enough oxygen he would be able to submerge into them without drowning… maybe it was part of her mermaid charm to make people paint her nails. He shocked his head. He was sure she didn’t know the power her eyes had. How many would have drowned in those eyes?

“You right princess. 2 older sisters and a niece trained me well” he picked up her other hand, seeing how the one he had held travelled all the way to her chin. She was encouraging him to elaborate that statement. And as his knight, how could he refuse?

“There’s my brother Luis, then Veronica, Marco and Rachael and me. Luis is 7 years older than I am, Veronica is 5, Marco is 2 and Rachel is 0 hahahaha, twin joke, twin joke, sorry… Anyway, as I was the youngest my sisters always liked to play with me and I was cool with it. I liked being with them and do “cosas de niñas” -girly stuff-. Not to brag, but I’m super good at it. Braiding, painting nails, face masks… the pupil surpassed his masters.” he put the hand that was holding the brush under his chin, smirking proudly.

“I can corroborate that.” Allura smiled, placing both hands in front of her to see. The polish was of a soft pink colour, and somehow, he had managed to paint small white stars with a touch of glitter. And how she loved sparkly things!

“Okay, my turn!” he reached for a light blue polish, offering it to Allura. She looked up to him, shocked at first but rapidly picking the polish as he offered her his hands.

“I apologise in advance, I’ll probably won’t do it as good as you.”

“Va, va, va, nonsense. You will do great ‘Lura.” she smiled with her whole body, insecurity fading as she started painting, biting her lip in a way Lance assumed meant she was fully concentrating on the task. The first strokes were clumsy, but as she kept going they became more secure, in the way you start remembering when it has been long since the last time you did it.

“Okay, done!” Lance stared at his hands, giving her a thumbs up. She clapped, closing the nail polish and collecting the other three ones to put them in the cupboard he had taken them out from.

“I’ll be back in a second” he said, rushing outside the bathroom as Allura nodded, watching him pass her without much time to think of an answer.

Allura sat on the bathtub’s edge, starting at her sparkly nails. Lance had lied to her. It was impossible for a person to forget four nail polishers at someone’s house. They were his, she was sure of that! That blue colour was matched his usual colour palette too well for it being a coincidence.

She smiled, hugging her legs as she rested her check on the top of them. He would never know how much letting her paint his nails had meant to her, how that face mask now dry had reminded her of home, how him being there made everything unexpectantly hurt less.

“Is this why you convinced me to move here Shay?”

“Hey Allura, look here.” Lance’s voice stared her, making her turn to hear a click. There he was, smiling at her with his phone, focusing on its screen as if it contained a really important thing.

“As expected, you’re a natural.”

“Did you just take a photo of me?”

“How else are we going to remember the day we became friends?” the sincerity of his voice took her off guard, making a soft feeling spread in her chest. She stood up, standing next to Lance to take a glance to her photo. She liked it.

“Okay now’s my turn!” she took the phone off his hands, opening the camera and searching for the front camera option. She smiled, finding cute how Lance’s face had surprise written all over it.

Tough in the next photos his Lover-Boy-Persona took over and his smirks became the signature in almost all the ones they made. In others she had the chance to see a more genuine smile, and she decided she liked those ones the best. And in others they simply made weird faces, even adding the mice to the pictures. As Lance said, “as expected from their owner’s pets, they’re naturals”.

She laughed at the memory of that, now lying on her bed. Tomorrow was Monday and she needed to sleep enough for the idea of waking up being at least somehow appealing. She hated morning lectures.

She was about to go to sleep when her phone lighted up, showing she had an incoming message from Shay.

Shay: Looks like someone had fun today :)

[photo attached] This one is my favourite

Allura stared at the screen, a picture of her and Lance smiling back at her.

Allura: How did you get that?!

Shay: Well, perks of living with your roommate’s best friend and that Lance likes to share…

not like others.

Allura: It’s not like that.

It happens that I don’t have the photos.

Not my fault.

Shay: Guiltless as always.

Allura: Because I am not guilty.

Shay: um, um… So, I can assume you had fun, right?

Just like 30 minutes ago Hunk’s phone started to go crazy and when he checked. Boom!

50 photos Allura

50 PHOTOS

Something to declare?

Allura: We simply spent a nice Sunday together.

Common thing between roommates.

Shay: Allura, I consider myself quite an expert in the roommate’s subject and I can tell you

What you did was not common!

Allura you spent your second day with him doing face masks and painting nails!

With a stranger

Allura: Not a stranger. You knew him!

And you told me so much about Lance it almost felt as if I had known him since forever.

And he’s just like you told me… so you could say I “knew” him.

See? Not a stranger

Shay: Your logic never ceases to astonish me.

Hahahaha

But I had never seen that smile on your face for a long time…

You look happy ‘Lura, genuinely happy, not the “fake- happy” it hurt watching.

And Lance helped, right?

Allura stared at the ceiling, eyes focused on the lights that shined over her head. She knew that. She knew she wouldn’t have smiled that way if Lance hadn’t been there… The person that no longer was a stranger or a simple roommate. He was her friend.

And Allura didn’t remember making a friend so fast or feeling so comfortable around someone or simply feeling it was okay to be herself. And it felt nice. It really did. But she was not going to admit it, not yet.

Allura: I have no obligation of answering to that

Goodnight Shay

See you in class

She started at the screen, scrolling up to see the picture again. It was a nice photo. Lance had put a tower over her hair, saying that it was the last touch for them to match completely -the robes, the long pyjamas and the nail polisher supposedly to be the other things. She was smiling, and so was Lance, showing all his teeth.

“We look quite good, right?” she asked the mice, watching them made themselves comfortable over her pillows. They squeaked, kinda nodding with their heads in which Allura assumed was a yes. “Yeah, I think that too.”

N O T E S

banner credit: scientists confirm cuddling with ur gf to be the best feeling in the universe by @cherryandsisters

Chapter 3 is finally done. Yay!

I had to put extra work on the dialogues and the messages, as the first drafts were kinda messy and not in character at all. Writing and poloshing... hahaha. Not sure if the format I choose for the messages is the right one, hope it’s at least clear who’s talking.

Also first dialogue for Shay. I hope I have made her character justice. In the show there are not many interactions between Allura and Shay, but for the ones we had, we could see they got along nicely. It kinda made sense to make her Allura’s friend in the AU because of that and because otherwise the whole roommate thing would have not started in the first place. So thank you Shay for moving with Hunk and making this Allurance AU possible.

visual references:

Allura’s nails: ☆ *✧

Allura’s and Lance’s outfits are the pyjamas they wear in cannon (couldn’t find visual references... picture it on your mind. IMAGINATION☆ *✧)

chapter’s playlist:

Owl City - The Saltwater Room

Gabrielle Aplin - Home

Ed Sheeran - Barcelona (the song Lance was signing. No reason in particular, it’s just I like the song)

I think reading the chapter with Saltwater Room or Home gives it even more meaning. Things are always better with soundtrack!

Sometimes I doubt when writing this story, I’m afraid it doesn’t make sense or that there would be plot holes as I keep writing... I know I will have to accept it is a possibility, but still... well, it’s harrrrrd. I want this story to be a good one, to be enjoyable, to be worth the time spent on reading it.

Hope you guys enjoy this fic and I’d love to ear your opinions about it. Any questions, ideas, headcannons or suggestions are always welcome!

#allurance #roommate au #chapter 3 #finally #took me a little #but it's longer so it should serve as compensation #hope you guys like it #allurance discord specially #you're always super supportive #thank you

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pinebypine · 5 years

Text

Rule of Three

Dark Erotica from beyond the veil. Pacifica has been the twins’ toy, but they’re up to something new.

Pacifica slid her feet back and forth, letting the silk of the sheets run along her skin until the sensation became an almost tingling feeling. She smiled to herself and rolled onto her back, staring up at the vast canopy above the bed. Idly, she wondered if she should call for more champagne or something to snack on, but decided against it.

This was the life.

So relaxing. So much pampering. So much attention devoted solely to her. Well, at least when the twins weren't working, or performing, or in their lab, or having their special twin time together. And there were caveats to this life. One might even call them downsides.

She missed clothes. Naked was nice; she knew she looked damned good but somewhere, when it was quiet like this, she missed putting together a cute outfit. Shopping used to be nice too. How long had it been since she’d been in a store? She’d probably missed a couple of new seasons of new fashions.

She rather missed her smooth, unmarked skin. The tattoos had been the work of many painful days to complete and they had evolved as the twins’ work had progressed, become layered and more intricate. They were a kind of beautiful, she thought, and beyond mysterious. She could finder herself entranced before one of the many mirrors of her rooms, staring at her back or the side of her ribcage, finding new details, patterns, or designs, that she’d never noticed before. But, although they were beautiful, she rather thought they did not make her beautiful. She felt a bit like the canvas more than the art.

And this new life she lived was somehow beyond her. In some ways, she lived such a small life now, but it seemed that just beyond it, beyond the walls of her painted cage or behind the implacable walls of the twins’ eyes, that some greater part of her life was happening, far from her understanding. If she wondered about that too long, she found it hard to sleep at night.

Still, there was no time to be morose; the twins would be returning anytime now and it would not do for them to find her like this, still sweaty from a day spent in bed. She rose and ran a shower, lavishing herself in the heat of it. She washed with the soaps and conditioner Mabel had so generously chosen for her. The chill air pricked at her skin as she left the showed, but that was nothing new. The house was always cold these days and she grew increasingly used to it. She dried hair and styled it the way that she knew Dipper liked. A long time passed as she carefully considered her vast choices of makeup and decided at last on a striking turquoise eyeshadow, that would make the twins’ eyes.

At last, she opened the polished wooden box by the bed and retrieved the brushed steel circlet and the padlock from within. After months of practice, it was easy to place the collar around her neck and hinge it closed without accidentally tugging errant hairs. Then the padlock went into place with a lovely little click. Her heart raced every time she locked the collar on. The feeling of being possessed, valuable, and desired, still thrilled her. Little shivers of anticipatory pleasure ran down her spine as she went back into the bedroom to wait.

Like always, someone had slipped in while she was gone and tidied. The mussed sheets of the bed were smoothed and tucked. The tossed clothes, toys, and other detritus of the fun the twins had had with her last night was gone. There was even a fresh bottle of champagne in a silver bucket of ice by the door, glasses already poured. It always amazed Pacifica how the servants managed that; she’d never seen even a glimpse of them.

She went to her place at the foot of the bed and knelt on the cushion on the floor. Head bowed, hands just so, she held the pose the twins had taught her all those months ago. It was like second nature now and she knew she could hold it for hours if need be, almost as comfortable as lying down, but her timing had been good tonight. She barely waited at all.

“They she is, sister dear,” Dipper’s smoke smooth voice made her heart jump, “the girl of the hour.”

The clack-clack-clack of heels approached Pacifica and she felt a hand on the back of her head. Mabel’s voice was like dark honey. “Such a good pet you are, Pacifica.”

Pacifica couldn’t control herself; her chest swelled with happiness. Mabel’s hand dug into her hair and the point of a finger dug into the flesh just below her chin, forcing her head back, to turn upward and look at her owner. Mabel smiled down at her, then bent gracefully and pressed their lips together.

Pacifica felt herself drawn upward, pulled standing by the other girl. She wanted to reach out, to embrace her mistress, but she knew better by now. She clutched her hands together and let herself be kissed, felt Mabel’s hands stroke down her body, tracing the black lines of the tattoos, until both hands grasped her bottom. Her mistress drew her in digging short nails into the skin and a delightful way. Then Dipper was there, his tall form pressed against her back, scarred hands running up the flat of her stomach toward her breasts. Between them, towered over by them, Pacifica felt so loved.

Dippers whisper tickled Pacfica’s ear, but he did not speak to her. “Should we play in earnest before tonight’s main event?”

Mabel broke the kiss and flicked her aqua gaze up to her brother, a pout on her lips. “Is it really ready, Dipper dear?”

“There will never be another time, sister of mine.” He bit the lobe of Pacifica’s ear eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her. “The old stars are in their places tonight and the gaze of the unknown is upon us. Besides, as much as I like our little pet now, aren’t you eager for what comes next?”

Mabel pulled Pacifica high onto the balls of her feet and let one hand slide down, fingertips grazing over the shaved smooth skin of her pet’s nethers. “She’s very wet, you know. It would be a shame not to have one last play with her.”

Her mistress’ words sent a feeling like cold water down Pacfica’s whole body. What could that mean ‘one last time’? Was she to be discarded? Sent away? She looked at Mabel with a plaintive expression but knew better than to voice her concerns. Her mistress met her gaze, narrowed her eyes and the corners of her mouth rose into a sly, evil smile.

“You’re right, of course.” One of her master’s hands ran down the front of her body and spread the lips of her vulva. “Mmm you weren’t wrong about this either. Would you like to go first, or shall I?”

Mabel kissed her brother. “Why, both of course. Put her on the bed.”

Pacifica found herself pressed down against the silk sheets, legs being spread by a pair of strong hands as her mistress hiked up her skirt and crawled up over her. Holding to a handful of Pacifica’s hair, her mistress ground into her face and months of experience took over. She worked her lips and tongue against her mistress as she felt her master’s cock pressed into her.

*****

The semen running down Pacifica’s thing was still warm, the sensation standing out white hot in the chill of the ritual chamber. She knew this place, it had been where the tattoos had been done. The stone floor was etched so deeply with characters and sigils that they felt like ruts in a dried mud road beneath her bare feet. Dipper’s grip on her shoulder was firm, steady; it almost made her feel better.

Mabel was crouched before them, facing away, in the center of the largest symbol of the room. Pacifica couldn’t see what she was doing, but heard the clink of metal on metal. The twins moved in concert; it was a swift, almost disconcerting, synchronicity. Mabel moved aside and Pacifica was pushed to her knees in the same spot. She stared in horror as Dipper reached into a pocket and retrieved a small silver key, her key.

She could hold her tongue no longer. “No, master! Please!”

His hands froze. His eyes turned to Pacifica. She could feel tears in her eyes.

“Please don’t send me away.” She cried. “Please don’t stop being my master and mistress.”

The twins exchanged a look. Then Mabel peered down her nose at the kneeling girl. “Pacifica, my pet. You will do anything for us, correct?”

She couldn’t speak, but managed to nod.

“Then stop crying.”

She took a huge breath and struggled to regain control. She just managed it.

Dipper dropped and rested his elbows on his knees. His green gaze pierced her. “This is not the end; this is the transition. Don’t you want to see what happens next?”

It was an effort, but she spoke, glancing from master to mistress. “Yes. If it’s for you two.”

They spoke in unison. “It is.”

The chain that had been fed through an eye-bolt in the floor was brought to Pacifica’s collar. The padlock was undone and then secured through both the chain and her fastenings. She felt so much better when it had been set back into place. Whatever was to come, she wanted to know her place.

The twins stepped back from her, eyes glowing in the dim light of the room. They smiled at her and the warmth of their desire could be felt. She took solace in it. The chant began so low it was almost inaudible, just a murmur on the edge of hearing. The resonances of the chamber amplified it, rebounded it, tossing the sounds back forth as it rose. The light from the twins grew with the chant, the jewel in Mabel’s hair and the one at Dipper’s throat burning like arc lights.

Pacifica gasped as the air grew cloudy around her. A thick, grey fog condensed out of nowhere, clinging to her skin and blocking her vision. Within a moment, her mistress and master were only visible as sources of bright azure light on either side of her. Some dark form flitted in the corner of her vision and Pacifica whipped her head to see, but found only more fog.

Her equilibrium shifted as if the very world turned around her and she fell to the carved stone floor. The cold of it grew deeper, as though the heat was being sucked away into some void. Something grazed her arm, hot and wet like a tongue. She recoiled from it, finding her wrist slick with something. The skin tingled beneath the thick liquid; she felt her breath grow quick and ragged. A black tendril, as thick as her forearm, whipped from the mist and swiped at her.

She screamed.

And then her master and mistress were there, stepping out of the fog and kneeling by her. Four azure eyes held her. Four hands held her, spread her down against the stone. She could not hear the words they chanted; they were unknowable, inhuman, beyond this world or anything like it, but she could understand the desires of her loves, her owners. They called to it; they wanted it here. They wanted her to accept it.

The tendril came again, slithering toward her, and she welcomed it. She felt its slick form, muscled like a great snake, travel along her body from armpit to hip, and the skin there burst into a fiery sensation. It felt strange; it felt good. It made her feel the way she did when her master and mistress deigned to please her, to give her the great gift of their love.

A tendril wrapped around her shoulder, another caught up one ankle. Old strength coursed through these serpentine arms, strength that had known the death of stars and the birth of universes. They held her. Her masters, all three, held her.

Cold energy, the power of another plane, seeped into her, drew her breath out like a rasp and eat away at her. She was starting to understand, to see beyond the walls of her painted cage. This was the transition, the coming and the going. Cerulean light flickered beneath her skin, running through and along the patterns drawn into her pale skin. She welcomed it.

She could feel so many of the tendrils now, wrapping around her limbs, her body, her neck. That strange tingle was all over her now, overtaking her, kissing her flesh. One of her otherworldly lover’s arms pressed at the lips of her vulva, still sick with the sex from earlier, and entered her. Waves of pleasure radiated out from it, wracking her body, causing her to struggle against her restraint. It plunged into her, deeper and deeper, as though she had no bottom to reach. Miles of it came. Another joined the first, stretching her wide, and still another slid into her ass. Then more and more, in defiance of reality, hundreds of them, all pushing into her.

Her eyes snapped open in astonishment and she looked up into the faces of her mistress and master. They smiled at her. They loved her. Each leaned down in turn and kissed her lips, longingly, with deep affection. The slick tentacle at her neck shifted and pressed its tip against her mouth. She smiled and kissed it, taking it in.

*****

Dipper undid the padlock and rose, helping each of siblings to rise in turn. He smiled at one then the other. The light of their power flowed through the air around them, intermingled and blended as they each felt outward with it. He leaned over and kissed Mabel; they both turned to the newcomer. Three sets of azure eyes looked back and forth.

“We’ve been waiting for you.” Mabel said.

“I see that now.” Their new sibling turned in circled and peered down at the new body. “I like these markings, very powerful.” A flash of light passed through the complex markings.

“We did everything we could to prepare you.”

“Yes I know. The memories in here are very enlightening.” Golden brows furrowed. “Pacifica? Seems a fine enough name. I think I’ll keep it.” Pacifica scanned up and down her siblings. “Yes, the memories too, even the Id seems useful. Yes, I’ll keep it all. What did you say, brother dear? This is not the end, this is the transition. Very apt of you.”

“I try my best, sister dear.”

Pacifica smiled, eyes sparkling in the dark. “Of course, now that I’m the new me, I think there no reason not to start on you two.”

Mabel and Dipper exchanged a glance. “So soon?”

“All the prep work is done now. The time is right. If you want markings like these, we can do them later. Shall we?”

She did not wait for an answer, in one swift motion she pulled her brother into a deep kiss, pushing her tongue roughly into his mouth. Her free hand grasped her sister’s hand and pulled her in. She dragged them both to floor.

“You’ll love this; I’ve learned some new tricks.”

A pair of slick black tendrils slid from behind her and wrapped around her siblings bodies.

#pinecest #pinebypine

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domain-of-friendship-blog · 6 years

Text

Episode 4-1

"Okay big sister, hold still."

Smiling, Scarlet sat at the edge of the bed and held her hand as steady as she could. "I will do my best, Auburn."

The younger boy gently held the tiny brush in his fingers, expertly applying a coat of dark red polish to the smallest of Scarlet's nails.

"Your careful touch never ceases to impress," said Scarlet. "Have you ever considered working in a salon when you grow up? I think you would make a fine manicurist."

"Oh." Though he never took his eyes off his work, a pink blush rose to the tips of Auburn's ears. "I, ah... had not given the matter much thought..."

Scarlet giggled softly. "No need to trouble yourself, then. It was a simple musing, nothing more; you certainly have plenty of time to decide." She watched her little brother at work for a moment longer before speaking again. "By the way, will Violet be ready to leave soon?"

"I cannot say," said Auburn, dipping the brush once again in the tiny bottle of nail polish.

"Oh?" Scarlet blinked. "I assumed you would know."

At this, Auburn rolled his eyes and fixed Scarlet with a mildly annoyed stare. "That is because you continue to believe our minds as twins to be somehow linked, despite my repeated insistence to the contrary."

Scarlet hesitated for a moment as though pondering a response, but settled for laughing instead.

A few moments later, Auburn returned the brush to the bottle of polish. "There you are, one coat is done."

Scarlet held up her hand, fingers splayed to have a better look at her deep crimson nails. "Fine work as always. Thank you again."

To her surprise, however, Auburn's gaze had sunk to the floor.

Scarlet lowered her hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying polish, and gave her brother a soft smile. "Chin up, dear brother, and tell big sister what troubles you."

"Well... I just thought..." Auburn seemed hesitant. "Siblings are supposed to look after one another, are they not?"

"Without question," came Scarlet's immediate reply.

"Then why did you abandon us?"

It was as though a needle had struck her squarely in the heart.

"Wha... What a thing to say, Auburn!" Scarlet gasped, covering her mouth with her unpolished hand. "What could I have ever done to disappoint you so?"

"You left us," Auburn insisted. "You left Violet and me behind and found someone else to play with. Your new pony friends..."

Scarlet bit her lip. "No, you misunderstand! Twilight and I have been trying our utmost to find a way back! We..." She suddenly trailed off as a thought struck her. "Wait. How do you know about that?"

"But you chose to stay." Auburn ignored his sister's confusion. "You gave up."

Another needle. Scarlet shook her head in disbelief, glancing over her shoulder nervously as though expecting someone else to be there... but the bedroom was empty, save for the two of them. "Auburn, why are you saying these things...?"

Auburn fixed Scarlet with an icy stare. "He gave you a chance. You could have come home... but you turned your back on us. You chose the ponies instead... You abandoned us."

Scarlet hadn't noticed the tears until they were already rolling down her cheeks. "Please... please, let me explain! I - " Her response was cut short as she attempted to reach out toward Auburn and caught sight of her forelegs. What had only seconds ago been five neatly polished nails was now a hoof haphazardly splattered with paint... and as Scarlet stared at it, she could feel yet more tears welling up. "I, I ne... never meant for - for any of this to happen. I thought I was... was doing the... right thing..."

Scarlet reached for Auburn with her other hoof, only to realize with a gasp that she was looking at his legs; he was now standing several meters tall, towering over her menacingly.

"Auburn, p... please tell me you understand..."

Darkness enveloped the room until all that remained were the two of them and the bed on which Scarlet sat. Without another word, Auburn turned on his heel and marched off into the shadows, quickly disappearing from sight.

"No...! Brother, wait! Please...!" Scarlet leapt from the bed and tried to give chase, but her hooves missed where the floor was supposed to be, finding only empty air... and causing her to plummet into the emptiness below.

"AAAAAAAAAAA"

*******

"GASP"

Scarlet's eyes snapped open as she awoke with a jolt, panting and sweating. Moonlight shone through the window, softly illuminating the room as she shoved the covers aside and slowly propped herself up on her forelegs.

She glanced about the room. Books littered the floor nearby, remnants of the past few nights spent staying up later than she was accustomed to in the hope that this time, this time she would find the clue they needed to get home.

It was a habit she had inadvertently picked up from Twilight. She had never been so avid a reader before, back when she had a choice in the matter; the life of a warrior normally expected earlier dawns than she could manage alongside such late night study sessions.

It seemed surreal, even under the circumstances, that this house not only belonged to Scarlet and her companions, but had been built expressly for them. It was so much more than they could ever have asked for, yet Twilight and the others had done it anyway. It was a gift for which she felt obligated to compensate them in some way, even as she knew they would reject the notion.

"Don't worry about it," they had said, and would likely say again if she voiced her feelings.

Were it so easy.

Yet even if she did find it in herself to accept their charity unconditionally, a dark cloud hung over the gift regardless, much as the admission left a foul taste in her mouth. Scarlet and her comrades had been in Equestria for far too long already, and the necessity of a more permanent residence meant it was likely they would be there for much longer still. The thought tainted her gratitude with an undercurrent of resentment.

It felt like defeat.

Groaning, she laid back down with a soft wumph and closed her eyes, but to no avail - her mind buzzed with worries she thought she had learned how to shelve. Though it would be hours yet before Celestia raised the sun, Scarlet climbed out of bed and stretched.

Reaching out with her magic, she lifted a long strip of red fabric from an otherwise empty clothing rack and quickly wove it into her mane, tying it into her signature bow. In hindsight, she might have done better to find a hairbrush first, but she wasn't of a mind to care at the moment.

Slowly, she made her way down the spiral staircase, across the hallway rug (so as not to wake her pegasus companion with the clip-clop of her hooves on the hardwood), and down another flight to the ground floor. Resigned to an unwittingly early start, her efforts in the kitchen soon filled the room with the distinct aroma of a fresh pot of coffee.

It was going to be a long day.

*******

"Good morning, Scarlet!"

Twilight smiled as her friend entered the library.

"Good..." Scarlet's reply was interrupted by a rather drawn-out yawn. "...Good morning, Twilight."

Her smile quickly inverting into a frown, Twilight closed the book in front of her and stood up. "Is everything alright?"

"Hm?" Scarlet took a seat opposite Twilight, used her magic to grab a nearby book, and plopped it open on the table in front of her. "Do you have reason to believe otherwise?"

"Yes, I do." Twilight leaned forward, folding her forelegs on the table. "This is the third day in a row you've shown up looking exhausted. You haven't brushed your mane, and your ribbon is crooked."

Scarlet's eyes widened. "Ah, er... is it?"

Twilight magically grasped the fabric of Scarlet's ribbon. A moment of fiddling later, it stood up proudly once more.

Scarlet patted it with a hoof. "Thank you."

"But back to the point..." Twilight sat back down. "This isn't like you. Are you not sleeping well? Is..." She raised a hoof to her muzzle in thought. "Is there something wrong with the house? We double- and triple-checked to make sure it passed inspection, so..."

"No, nothing of the sort!" Scarlet shook her head, perhaps a bit more vigorously than she had intended; a wave of mild dizziness struck her as she stopped.

"Then what is it? Did something - " Twilight gasped. "Discord!"

Scarlet blinked. "Er?"

A lavender glow enveloped Twilight's horn, but for a moment, Scarlet couldn't tell what she was doing... until she realized that an identical glow now surrounded her as well.

After a moment, the spell ended.

Twilight sighed. "No, there's no trace of chaos magic on you." She fixed Scarlet with a gentle stare. "But then, you never actually told me what happened to you in the maze..."

That was by design, of course. The memory was still too heavy in her heart; she hadn't even told Tank or Waterwing. Scarlet stayed silent and turned away in the vain hope that Twilight would drop the matter.

"Scarlet," Twilight began, "if whatever happened to you back there is keeping you up at night, then please, talk to me! I'm your friend, and I'm always here to help."

There it was.

"I appreciate the offer," said Scarlet, "but I could ask no more of you than I already do. Please, think nothing of it."

"Don't think of it that way," insisted Twilight. "I want to help. I can't stand seeing you like this."

Scarlet swallowed hard. Her voice shook a little, her words slower and more deliberate. "I promise I will be fine. I would rather not discuss the matter."

Twilight bit her lip. "But if it's affecting you this much, we have to do something! Maybe I can - "

"Twilight, please...!"

In an instant, she knew she had pushed too hard. Tears poured down Scarlet's muzzle as she stared at Twilight, her eyes full of... well, tears, but from what? It was like trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle, but somepony had glued some of the pieces together the wrong way.

"I..." Scarlet did a poor job of wiping the tears from her face with her foreleg. "I should - I need to go."

Before Twilight could object, Scarlet whirled around and bolted for the door, slamming it shut behind her as she went.

"..."

A diminutive pair of feet marched down the stairs, carrying a small purple dragon with them.

"Twilight? What's going on?" Spike didn't stop until he was by Twilight's side. "Is everything okay?"

Twilight trembled. "No, Spike." She took a deep breath. "Something is very, very not okay."

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#mlp #mlpfim #mlp oc #my little pony friendship is magic #mlp fanfic #pony fanfic

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