so i have this disney playlist i listen to usually when i’m driving and i was blasting poor unfortunate souls this morning and i was thinking
what if ariel didn’t sign the scroll?
because she’s about to, okay, and she looks at the paper. the parchment made of seaweed, the ones that’s specially treated to survive underwater. and she thinks of her cave of treasures, her books that remain perfectly preserved underwater.
“no thank you,” she says slowly, becoming keenly aware of air of this place, of the not-people she’d seen who hadn’t been able to pay the price for sea witch’s bargain. “i – no. thank you. but no.”ursula tries to convince her otherwise, but ariel runs. she goes back to her cave, destroyed as it was by her father’s anger, and thinks.
she’s the daughter of triton. her books never got wet, though she lives in the ocean. she feels a pull inside her, to the land, to somewhere else, but what if – what if –
what if she doesn’t need the sea witch or her father to perform magic for her? what if she has her own?
ursula had wanted her voice because that’s how she performed her magic. singing in this cave had given it powers and protection, and when she saved her prince from the sea – she sang then too, to keep him safe, to guide him back to life and away from death.
so she has magic. she only needs to figure out how to use it.
so that’s what ariel does now. she’s quiet and keeps to herself, and her father and sisters think that it’s because she’s upset with her father, that she’s busy licking her wounds.
she’s moved on from that. she has no trident, and is uninterested with fueling her magic with the souls of the damned like ursula has. so she needs to figure something else out.she does what she’s not supposed to do, and goes where she’s not supposed to go, slipping past the guards and patrols to the one place in the sea that is forbidden to all of them.
the crevice in the earth where what remains of her grandmother lives.
ariel goes to amphitrite, and the sea goddess is so much bigger than ariel, the size of great whale as she curls at the bottom of the sea floor, too old and too tired to do anything more than sleep. “granddaughter,” the great being croaks, opening an eye as blue and as unfathomable as the sea, “you look like me.”
“they say i look like my mother,” she says, and to herself adds: that’s why father can barely stand to look at me.
“you have more of me in you than your mother,” she says, and she shifts and pulls her mass of red hair over her shoulder. “more of me in you than your father does, even.”
“i have magic,” she says, pulling her bravery to the fore as she swims closer to her grandmother, “i want you to teach me how to use it.”
amphitrite pushes herself up, and it’s the first time she’s moved in a millennia, and ariel notices for the first time that her grandmother isn’t a mermaid – she has legs.she has legs.
“you have power,” amphitrite corrects fiercely, “and i will teach you to wield it.”
and so she does. ariel spends her nights by her grandmother, learning to harness the power of the sea that runs in her veins, and sleeps her days away while her sisters and flounder and sebastian grow more and more concerned, but she refuses to tell them why. she refuses to be stopped.
but her heart still aches. she fell in love with her prince, and she wants him still. so she swims to the edge, goes to the beach where his castle resides in the dead of night when her lessons with her grandmother are complete, and sings
.
she’s careful not to let any magic leak through, only her voice. she does not want to enchant him. she wants him to love her as she is. so she sings, her voice clear and powerful and cutting through the air. she hopes he can hear it.then one day a figure walks to the beach, and it’s him, her prince. “hello?” he calls out, “are you out there? are you – please, it was you that saved me, wasn’t it? won’t you come out and let me see you?”
so she does, waves her tail at him until he catches sight of her and takes hesitant, disbelieving steps closer.
“you’re a mermaid,” he says, eyes wide, “i thought i saw – but it couldn’t be.”
“i am, and it can,” she says, heart beating wildly in her chest. he’s just as handsome as she remembered, and she wants him just as much. “my name is ariel.”
“ariel,” he repeats, and pulls off his boots and goes wading into the water, watching her to see if she flinches away from him. she doesn’t, and his strides grow bolder. “my name is eric.”
“eric,” she whispers, and when he’s close enough he touches her, trailing fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder and tangling them in her hair.
when he kisses her, she feels powerful enough to undo the world.
so there’s that now, spending her nights with her grandmother and her prince, and she knows how to make her own legs now, could walk onto land and be made a queen among the two legged men.
but she’s a princess here first, and before she can do that she needs to take care of something.
ursula.
the rotten sea witch with her rotten sea magic won’t be allowed to torment her people any longer.
she tells her grandmother, and amphitrite smiles and says, “an excellent decision, child. i’ve enjoyed our time together, but i think it’s time for me to sleep once more. i’ve taught you everything i can.”
and tears prick ariel’s eyes, but she holds them back. she knew that it couldn’t be forever, that her grandmother can’t die but no longer desires to live and this is the in-between.
“you’ll be an amazing queen,” amphitrite murmurs, and closes her eyes for a millennia more.
this isn’t something to be done in the dead of night, although it would be easier to do it then.
she will make a spectacle of it, she will remind the sea that her people are not to be trifled with.
once upon a time they feared a blue eyed, red haired sea queen with the power to destroy them all. it’s time for them to do so again.
so she drives ursula to the center of the city. her sisters cower and people hide, and her father comes rushing forward to save her.
“you’ve committed great crimes against my people,” she says, not flinching as lightning gathers in the sea witch’s hands, “so now shall a great crime be committed against you.”
“foolish girl,” the sea witch snarls.
triton is yelling. he won’t get there in time.
he doesn’t have to.
she doesn’t need to sing anymore. instead she lifts her hands and pulls ursula apart without ever touching her, not only renders flesh from bone but also sets free the souls she’s been hoarding, reverses the magic done to those who’d fallen into the sea witch’s trap.
they all stare at her, her people, her father, and her sisters. she looks to triton and says, “i’m not a little girl anymore.”
he opens his mouth, closes it again, then says, “i can see that.”
all at once everyone’s perceptions are turned sideways about their youngest princess. she commands a power that even her father doesn’t have access to, she’s not depressed and dreamy – she’s powerful young woman who knows exactly what she’s doing.
so she does what she wanted to do, she gives herself legs and steps onto the sand and launches herself into eric’s arms. she becomes his bride, and the rumors run rampant of what she is, of where she came from, but they can’t prove anything and so they rule.
they live long, happy lives. ariel is his consort, his advisor, his wife, his tactician, and his best friend. all those years reading drowned books have certainly paid off. she ages herself along with her husband, bears his children and then teaches them they ways of her – their – people.
her husband dies, and she disappears, like the stories of selkie women that everyone whispers around her. their children give their father a sea burial, and vow to see him again one day. what they know and none of their subjects do is this – their father’s body isn’t in that casket.
she returns to her ocean, her legs form into her glittering green tail, and she goes home. she uses her terribly powerful magic, and brings her husband with her. she went from princess ariel of the sea to queen ariel of the land, and now she’s back again.
she’s not quite a teenager, but neither is she the old woman she pretended to be on land. she’s returned her and her husband to the prime of their life, and as she gained legs to be with him, he now gives his up to be with her.
eric becomes a merman, and a prince by virtue of being ariel’s husband.
she returns to her family and her world without missing a beat, and they all welcome her as if she never left, treat her husband with kindness and respect.
because they all know.
it doesn’t matter that she’s the youngest. when, far in the future, triton’s reign ends –
ariel’s reign will begin.
YYYYYEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
OH MY GOD THE @ NOTIFICATION GOT BURIED SO I ONLY JUST SAW THIS? AND IT’S SO AMAZING I’M REBLOGGING IT REGARDLESS OF IT NOT BEING SUNDAY BECAUSE IT’S AMAAAAAAAZING.
Tag: fic
“Fuck the sandwich guy!”
Harry’s sat on the bench, waiting for Eggsy to join him. It was a lovely day, rare for the sun to be shining in London, so the two had taken the opportunity to have a relaxing day in the park. After a while of soaking up the rays, they’d both got hungry, and they’d decided to get a sandwich from one of the most popular sandwich bars in the area. Eggsy had kindly offered to go and pick up the food – Harry hadn’t quite got his full mobility back yet, and even with a cane, found it hard to walk some distance.
After a while, Harry started to wonder where Eggsy was – half an hour had gone by, and he still hadn’t come back. Sure, there was probably a queue, but half an hour? He started to worry, paranoid that he’d been jumped, or something worse.
The worry is quickly wiped away when he can hear Eggsy walking back to the table, shouting to someone on the phone. Probably complaining to Ryan or Jamal, or something.
“Bruv, fuck the sandwich guy!” Eggsy shouted, slumping onto the bench, and throwing a paper bag onto the table.
“What an earth are you so angry about?”
“The dickhead told me he’d run out of steak filling. How the fuck you gonna be running a sandwich place and run out of filling? Wankers, mate.” Eggsy muttered, taking two neat sandwiches out the bag. “Even worse, they still had your fuckin’ posh chicken caeser filling. Enjoy it, you mug.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh at his overreaction. He was so adorable when he was angry.
“Darling, you’re so cute when you’re hangry.” Harry said, taking a bite into his sandwich.
“Yea, whatever. ” Eggsy replied, smiling at his own stupid overreaction. “You’re buying the next lunch, though.”
(i hope this is okay haha <3)
As You Wish (James x MC NSFW)
James x MC NSFW (I’ve fallen into Seduce Me and I can’t get up welp!)
could you imagine The Enterprise having like a yearly inspection and Kirk bugs out every time because the best running ship in the fleet certainly doesn’t become so because they follow the rules. He has to remind the crew a week in advance to actually call him Captain and use formal titles. Bones and Scotty’s shared bathroom which is one hundred percent a liquor cabinet/distillery cannot be a thing.
Sulu has to collect all of his plants out of everywhere that’s not the Botany Labs and hide the illegal ones he picked up during their journey in his quarters. Scotty has to remove all of his Scotty-Approved-Modifications from Engineering. Spock can’t work four shifts in a row and break the ensigns that challenge him in the gym to sparring matches. Bones can’t medically offer alcohol to anybody. Uhura needs to not curse every ten minutes, in any language. Chekov needs to focus more on his console and less on every pair of legs walking by his station.
Nurse Chapel needs to actually do what McCoy says, rather than agreeing with him then doing something wildly different but more productive and helpful. Bones isn’t allowed on the Bridge unless called. Spock needs to sit at his console, standing up and leaning over all coy is actually a safety hazard. Scotty can’t use scottish slang over the comm system
But then something *happens* like it always does to Kirk–the “hole in space/giant glowing hand” kind of thing–and all of that goes out the window–in the course of, say, 38 hours Jim gets called “jim” 50 times, Spock never goes off shift, the ship is hit and all of sulus plants fall out of the closet they were stuffed in, uhura is swearing up a storm and Scotty’s jurry-rigging everything, checkov gets caught staring at the pretty alien, and Chapel does her damn job thank you, and Bones appears in the bridge to yell at everybody like he does.
BUT, at the end of the day, Kirk has secured a new treaty because the culture values closeness over formality, Spock’s marathon at the science station has collected enough data to keep the academy busy for *months*, one of the aliens is fascinated by the plants ensuring a new collaboration between their scientists and starfleet, Scottys improvements to the systems prevent their new friends from getting eliminated by their enemies and uhura’s swearing intimidated the enemy into backing off, and the princess is totally ensnared with Chekov–oh, and Bones discovers the cure for the new mystery illness is the bathroom moonshine, and chapel saves the fucking day.
The inspector just throws up their hands because he’d read the Kirk file, *but he never believed it was true*
and stabby the knife wielding rumba stabs the inspector at least once
hartwin + thief/cop AU
- Eggsy’s just an ordinary London cop doing standard patrol and putting money in the bank for the flat he shares with his mum and sister—Dean cut his losses once Eggsy graduated from the academy and took his friends with him—when he gets an alert about a break-in into one of the House of Lord’s homes. The resident starts bemoaning about being robbed, but is cagey when Eggsy starts asking exactly what the thieves stole.
- In less than twenty-four hours, the contents of the lord’s phones, laptop, and tablet reveal career-ending scandals ranging from cheating on his wife of thirty years to helping tip the PM election, along with some shady deals that involve shaking hands with international criminals. Eggsy’s pretty impressed and takes pleasure in being one of the cops to personally escort the man into custody.
- Soon, there’s a series of this sort of thing happening—seemingly upstanding citizen or total slimeball who knows how to take advantage of the system getting exposed around London. Court cases follow. Some of his fellow officers grumble about these people being judge and jury, but most seem like “eh, well deserved.” Eggsy’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he’s pretty curious about who these vigilantes are and might, might want to help. Not like they need it.
- By luck and wit, Eggsy digs up Chester King, former tailor shop owner who ran a more lower-end shop out of business, and was hit with charges of embezzling, extortion, bribery, coercion, and typical charges of white collar crime. His gut says it’s the same sort of thing he’s dealing with, only more personal. Who was the father? A Charles Harold Hart. And it looks like the son is still around, having taken over King’s tailor shop—
- Eggsy sneaks away and chats Harry up, a fit bloke who seems like an ordinary tailor. But in time, it’s revealed exactly what’s going on, and Harry shows off the secret headquarters—secret headquarters—with some grouchy tech guy who scowls at Harry for bringing in “any young, handsome thing who HAPPENS TO BE A COP” and a cheerful set of people who like exposing London’s “finest,” including a lady the same age as he who takes him down at hand-to-hand. Harry’s office is plastered with a lot of his own “jobs,” and Eggsy’s a bit shocked to see Dean Anthony Baker, local drug dealer, on them.
- And that’s how Eggsy becomes Kingsman’s man on the inside.
send me a pairing + AU and I’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it
hartwin, they-are-both-homeless au?
I tried to make this not depressing
- Eggsy used to kipping it on street corners and park benches when Dean’s had a few too much to drink and gets riled for a fight. Good thing about it, he’s seen a lot more of London than most people do. Sure, he doesn’t get the full view as the tourists and day time crowd but at least he doesn’t have to pay to get into every fucking thing.
- Harry, just home from a long business trip doing mind numbing pencil pushing auditing work, finds his lovely home has caught fire and everything is terribly smoke damaged. He kind of just sags in defeat and sits down on his suitcase as he watches the firefighters trample on his plants and soak his already destroyed house. When he goes to fish his wallet from his pocket, he finds it missing. That wiry kid on the tube–Harry swears so loudly the firefighters actually turn to look at him. No cards, no money, no ID.
- So, Eggsy’s wandering the streets early in the night when he comes across some poor bedraggled looking bloke carrying a little wheelie behind him and staring dejectedly at his phone. Despite the wrinkled suit, shocking purple circles under his eyes and the overall grumpy look about him, Eggsy thinks he just looks–lost. And handsome. Just as he makes up his mind to go talk to him, the man lets out a disgruntled yell and throws his phone to the kerb, where it shatters.
- “You alright there, mate?”
“It appears my phone is out of battery.”
“Yeah… don’t think it’s gonna charge up now.”
Harry levels the young man in the snapback with a stare he hopes is both unimpressed and withering. The young man just raises his eyebrow at him, smiles.
“My house nearly burnt down,” Harry explains with a sigh. “And someone stole my wallet.”
“Ouch. Well, I’m kicked outta my place for the night. Looks like we’re both bumming it tonight.” The young man sticks out his hand. “I’m Eggsy.”
Harry takes his hand. “Harry Hart.”
“I know a place that serves all night breakfast. Will do a fry-up that makes you see God.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“It’s alright. I picked a wallet off some bloke in a nice suit a few hours ago.” At Harry’s flat stare, Eggsy adds with a laugh, “Joking, mate. It’s on me.”
- There’s a sense of companionship–something about being out alone on the streets when everyone else is tucked up into their beds that makes Eggsy reach out to Harry, for Harry to reach back. They spend the rest of the night sharing a double order of beans and fried mushrooms and bacon, endless cups of coffee that they get on free refills when Eggsy shines that utterly charming smile on the waitress and she nearly breaks down into giggles. Harry finds himself staring far too much, catches Eggsy staring back. By the time morning comes, Harry finds he’s in too much of a hurry to get back home.
an enormous need for affection
@deadsdemona‘s post here inspired this fic. i love me some old, grumpy spy boyfriends.
Merlin had spent five days straight in his tech cave. It wasn’t his longest stint among the calming whir of his machines and the jarring footage of the agents he was handling, but he was getting older, and the endless monotony of little sleep and rushed meals wore on him much more quickly than it used to.
He barely remembered Harry breezing into his office, gently grabbing both wrists, and lifting him off of his rolly chair. “Alastair, you really need some rest,” Harry had murmured, brushing off his rumpled sweater and readjusting the glasses that sat on his face. “Come now. We’re going home.”
Once back inside their Stanhope Mews residence, Merlin had taken a quick and efficient shower before pulling on a pair of well worn pajamas bottoms and a jumper that had a hole in the armpit. He shuffled down the stairs and collapsed onto the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and dropping his head back onto the cushions.
Although he wouldn’t admit it out loud, it really did feel wonderful to be home. He could smell the stupid berry crumble scented candle Harry had burning, and without even giving it thought, he had somehow managed to pull the tartan throw that was on the back of the couch over his legs and had tucked it under his thighs. Marilyn, in all of her Persian glory, was curled up on his lap and purring luxuriously.
He must’ve drifted off at some point, because he hadn’t even heard Harry enter the room. It wasn’t until he felt the press of Harry’s lips against the bald curve of his head that he even knew Harry was standing behind him.
“What’s all this then?” he asked gruffly, lifting a hand to rub it against the moisture that lingered on his skin from Harry’s kiss.
“Affection,” Harry murmured, his fingertips gently running along the top of Merlin’s shoulder.
Screwing up his face in distaste, Merlin replied, “Well, it’s disgusting.” Somewhere above him, he heard Harry huff out an exasperated laugh. Merlin’s hand was still lingering on the curve of his skull, the wetness of Harry’s kiss still under his fingers. He could feel the buttons of Harry’s jumper occasionally brushing against his knuckles, and he started to feel Harry move away. In one deft motion, Merlin twisted his hand around and gripped Harry’s forearm. “Do it again?” he murmured, feeling the tip of his ears turning pink.
He didn’t have to see Harry’s face to know he was smiling. Gently removing his forearm from Merlin’s grip, Harry placed both hands on the tops of Merlin’s shoulders. As if by second nature, Merlin brought his own hands up to cover Harry’s and gave them an affectionate squeeze. He felt Harry lean down above him, and then press his lips once again to the crown of his head. Merlin couldn’t stop the smile from crossing his lips as Harry continued to kiss him, trailing his lips down the curve of his ear, onto the soft skin where his jaw met his neck, on the pulse point that peeked out just above Merlin’s jumper…
Soon, Harry had twined his arms around Merlin’s neck, his lips pressed against his jawline and his nose buried in Merlin’s cheek. A warm, satiated feeling had settled in Merlin’s stomach as he linked his fingers with Harry’s. He let out a contented hum, allowing the slightest nuzzle against the smoothness of Harry’s cheek.
“You’re like a giant house cat,” Harry murmured against his skin, punctuating his sentence with soft kisses. “All, ‘Don’t you dare look at me, you plebeian,’ but the second someone gives you any type of attention, you melt and purr and ask for more.”
“Wanker,” Merlin whispered, closing his eyes.
“Your wanker,” Harry whispered back, pressing one more kiss to his jawline.
Merlin couldn’t argue with that.
James/Mika NSFW
Take it, ya perverts!
–The bookcases in the study creaked under Mika’s weight when James slammed her against the nearest one. He sighed as he locked lips with her, buried his fingers in her hair, drank her in like he was starved for energy.
Mika cupped his cheek and moaned into his mouth, her eyes fluttering. She hooked a leg up on his hip and arced up against him. The latter, she hadn’t realized doing until James all but tore her shirt up to grab her boob. That was James, drawn to a tit like a thirsty horse to water.
He pushed her bra up too and parted from their hungry kiss to kneel. “Fuck…”
Mika’s nails dug into his scalp, a moan barely escaping her when the back of her head slammed against a row of books. James locked his lips around a nipple and lapped at it just enough to make it pucker so he could graze his teeth over it.
Mika squeaked, she couldn’t keep herself quiet. When she reached up to cover her mouth, James hummed a smug chuckle around her and grabbed her wrist just in time, pinning it right at her side.
“James you ass, you cruel ass…!” She whined and squirmed.
She could feel him smiling around her tit, until he sucked. Then she could only feel pleasure skitter through her and shoot straight to her crotch.
With some effort, James unclasped her bra and helped her pull her shirt off. Both garments were tossed aside. When he brought his attention back to her tits, he glanced up at her and slid his glasses off.
The smolder he gave her from that angle, that wanting glare through his ruffled bangs, would make her melt every time. He knew it, too.
James tossed his glasses aside and dove in for the other boob. Mika bit her lip, tried not to give his ego the satisfaction, but he kept sucking and flicking her nipple with the tip of his tongue, just barely enough, and she was keening.
“Goodness, whining already, love?” James chuckled, his warm breath puffing against her wet nipple. He fondled the other one just long enough for Mika to squirm.
“Perhaps you would like something more direct, hmm?” He cocked a brow up at her as he pinched it, and she almost kneed him out of sheer spite.
“I would like that quite a bit, yes, Raestrao,” she hissed, and relished getting to see his eyes flare gold and his torso seize forward. He groaned against her nipple.
She smirked down at him. He met her glare, as he slipped his hand up her skirt and ran his thumb over her cloth-covered lips.
Mika gasped and bucked against him, wide-eyed and mouth agape. His grin was almost peevish as his eyes gleamed gold. He easily pulled her underwear aside and slid a finger up into her.
“N-nnnnngh!! J-James–!” Mika tried not to be too loud but it wasn’t working so well. She grappled for something, anything as James pushed until his knuckle was flush against her, and curled.
She gripped his hair tighter than she should have. He grunted and slipped his free hand into hers, and she gripped as hard as she could. He thrusted up into her a few more times, got his finger good and slick, then gently introduced a second finger.
Even though he was delicate in the stretching process, he could still be rough with hitting her G-spot. James was merciless, grinning and baring his teeth as Mika writhed and clenched around him.
“Everything alright, love?”
The small part of Mika that was coherent enough, wanted to kick him. Fortunately for James, she was losing her mind in ecstasy and digging half-circles into his hand with her nails.
He scissored his fingers just then and Mika keened loud enough to be heard from the kitchen. James’ laugh was low and raspy, thick with hunger. His eyes’ glow never wavered.
“One more, I think,” he murmured. Smoothly he withdrew from her, and with a third finger he eased back into her.
Mika kept breathing even when her thighs trembled and her hair stuck to her jaw from sweating. She hated him so much, hated how smug he looked down there, hated how good he was with just his fingers.
He brushed his thumb against her clit and hit her G-spot all at once, and Mika did cry out that time. “Gently gently, fuck gently James…!”
He eased up the pressure on her clit and sparks of colored pleasure swam through her body. She could taste copper from her lip and it was delicious.
“You sound ready, I think,” James rumbled and slid his fingers out of her. “Carnivean’s Crown… such a messy woman, aren’t you, love.”
She leered at him as he helped her move from the bookcase to his desk – the unimportant one. She sat herself up on it and, taking the hint of how James stood before her, undid his fly for him.
“I wouldn’t look so satisfied with myself if I were you,” she growled through a smirk and heavy eyelids.
“No?” He cocked a brow down at her, using his clean hand to push his trousers down. “And why not?”
She paused. “Because it irritates me.”
“Oh I know, love, the bruised pride,” he snickered and stroked her cheek – clean hand of course. “You look absolutely delicious when you glare at me like that.”
“Then dig in,” she pulled his briefs down, and out bounced his seven and a half.
Before he could make any insinuations, she leaned back on the desk and propped a leg up on the edge. Her glare, a challenge.
James ran his wet hand over the head and length of his cock, looking her right in the eye as he did it.
“Now who’s making a mess,” she murmured.
“Are you certain you want my answer?” He leaned over her, clean hand braced on the desk as he jerked himself with her juices as lube.
“Yup,” She said, and spread her legs open further.
He chuckled. “Excellent.”
James eased her underwear down her thighs but left her skirt on. As he lined himself up, Mika decided to shift the power. She grabbed him by his tie and pulled him down into a bruising kiss that was more clanking teeth than tongue but that kind of thing was a turn-on for James and Mika knew it.
He slammed both hands on the desk and let out the deepest growl Mika had ever heard, deepened the kiss and tasted the traces of blood mingle. The glow in his eyes seemed to pulse with his heartbeat.
He pressed his hips forward and slid inside her, and they both gasped. Mika didn’t let him escape from the kiss though, her grip on his tie was solid.
It felt like forever, but his hips were finally flush against hers.
She loved him like this; her perfect gentleman, so polite and pristine, reduced to a complete mess of disheveled hair, wrinkled collar shirt, and raw hunger. The very same hunger he was looking at her with now.
Mika’s thighs trembled, but she clenched around him as hard as she could, just to goad him on, and when that dominance in him wavered as pleasure shot through him and he buckled, she pulled him by the tie one more time to murmur in his ear the only word she ever needed with him.
“Move.”
cinderella: redo
so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think –
the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s – but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught – they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and – soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont
but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends
and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.
except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and – and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”
“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.
Holy Shit read it all.
Sam Matthew and Damien 54 and 55
54. Have you ever had sex in a public place?
55. Have you ever had sex/masturbated while somebody was sleeping near you?–
“Uuuuuhm?” Sam cocks a brow and glances up, scratches his cheek, fist on his hip. “I don’t…. think so? Nothing’s jumpin’ out at me. Wait, there was– well? Naomi and I did a bit of, like, heavy petting in the Main Hall once but everyone was outside. Dunno if that counts…. Nah wait shit that’s just out in the open, not public. I’m gonna say no.”He sits back in his chair and shifts to a bitter, matter-of-fact tone. “That’s fuckin’ rude, and no one better be doing that shit. It’s nasty.”
He crosses his arms.
–
Matthew kinda leans forward on the table and locks his elbows straight, fingers splayed wide.“No? Why would anyone do that? I mean I get why people would do that, Mika’s into that, but it’s so…. terrifying! And stressful! What if someone sees you and they never forget it!? What if someone sees you like that? That’s a vulnerable way to be seen, and I just…” He shakes his head. “Mm-mmh. No way. Hashtag not my kink. Sorry to Mika, but I can’t do it!”
He pauses at the second question. Then he looks aside. Then his shoulders hunch and he bites his lip.
“….. One time. We were all rolled up in the living room because the power went out and Mika wanted us to pretend-camp out. Is that a thing with humans, or just Mika?” He shrugs. “So yeah… I was really nervous but sleeping bags are… very tight and private. They feel sneaky. And I like sneaky. So…. I tried not to wake anyone up…”
He splays a hand over his face. “I’m really not proud of it okay!? It’s just a miracle no one woke up.”
–
“Someone woke up,” Sam mutters through his teeth and his shoulders tense. “And decided to be the good bro by not throwin’ a pillow at him. Now he’s wishin’ he did.”–
Damien chuckles to himself and brushes his hair out of his face. “I have, a lot. Mika loves to do it in public, and I get to be a little more dominant with her. It’s so fun teasing her to be quiet. No wonder James likes to do it so much. My favorite time was when we went to try on clothes and I found this really nice pair of jeans, they fit really well and Mika said that if I left my shirt off and unbuttoned the fly, I could model as a cowboy! I don’t actually know what that is but…”He bites his lips and blushes. “She really liked it. I didn’t even need to feel for her energy, I could see how much she wanted me when she looked at me… I couldn’t resist the idea of tempting her.”
He flashes a mischievous grin. “And she loved it.”
At the second question, he goes a bit still. “I… well… y-yes. I don’t usually though!” He throws his arms out. “It’s not a habit or a kink or anything! It’s just that, well, Mika likes teasing me a lot. I don’t know why it’s always me, I mean I don’t mind it, not at all, but it happens so much! We all went out camping together, us and Mika’s friends and Erik’s boyfriend, and we all slept in a log cabin. Nine people in one little log cabin, and, Mika just, in the middle of the night, she started imagining things. She knew I was awake, she had to know! I couldn’t help myself…”
Damien covers his face as red creeps over him. “She has a really good imagination.”
FantasyBoudicca 