triceratops prorsus

I tried to keep a low profile because my name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. The Trenton RegisterNews showed a photo taken by a tourist as I got off the Greyhound bus. I had a wild look in my eyes. My sword was a metallic blur in my hands. It might’ve been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick. 

The picture’s caption read: 

Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with two teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture. 

“Don’t worry,” Annabeth told me. “Mortal police could never find us.” But she didn’t sound so sure.

[Name] must’ve seen the hesitation on my face becauseI felt a knuckle tap on my shoulder and when I went to look he winked before waving a hand in front of his face. 

“Maybe ‘the mist’ will hide you or whatever”

I nodded but I wasn’t convinced

“Besides” he said “nobody in Jersey gives a rat’s A R S E about Trenton anyway. Who is reading Trenton Register News”

I decided I didn’t know enough about New Jersey to argue. 

The rest of the day I spent alternately pacing the length of the train (because I had a really hard time sitting still) or looking out the windows. 

Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn’t get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats. My neck got stiff. I tried not to drool in my sleep, since Annabeth was sitting right next to me. 

I couldn’t quite place whether [Name] was asleep or not. Sometimes he came out of his shell and there was a charismatic, funny and smart guy. And other times, there was this, well..wall. 

Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking me up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Annabeth and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed. 

“So,” Annabeth asked me, once we’d gotten Grover’s sneaker readjusted. “Who wants your help?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, ‘I won’t help you.’ Who were you dreaming about?” 

I was reluctant to say anything. It was the second time I’d dreamed about the evil voice from the pit. But it bothered me so much I finally told her. 

Annabeth was quiet for a long time. “That doesn’t sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs.” 

“He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?”

“I guess…if he meant, ‘Help me rise from the Underworld.’ If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?” 

“Something bad is gonna happen” [Name] said eerily

Annabeth shot him a glare. “Don’t joke about that. You could jinx us”

“I’ll knock on as much wood as you want but we both know it’s not Hades.” He bit back “I mean he has to be involved somehow because of the…kindly ones as you call them but the rest of it…”

I shook my head, wishing I knew the answer. I thought about what Grover had told me, that the Furies on the bus seemed to have been looking for something. 

Where is it? Where? 

Maybe Grover sensed my emotions. He snorted in his sleep, muttered something about vegetables, and turned his head. 

Annabeth readjusted his cap so it covered his horns. “Percy, you can’t barter with Hades. You know that, right? He’s deceitful, heartless, and greedy. I don’t care if his Kindly Ones weren’t as aggressive this time—” 

“This time?” I asked. “You mean you’ve run into them before?”

Her hand crept up to her necklace. She fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image of a pine tree, one of her clay end-of-summer tokens. “Let’s just say I’ve got no love for the Lord of the Dead. You can’t be tempted to make a deal for your mom.” 

“What would you do if it was your dad?” 

“That’s easy,” she said. “I’d leave him to rot.” 

“You’re not serious?” 

Annabeth’s gray eyes fixed on me. She wore the same expression she’d worn in the woods at camp, the moment she drew her sword against the hellhound. 

“My dad’s resented me since the day I was born, Percy,” she said. “He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn’t happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent.” 

“But how…I mean, I guess you weren’t born in a hospital.…” 

“I appeared on my father’s doorstep, in a golden cradle, carried down from Olympus by Zephyr the West Wind. You’d think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like, maybe he’d take some digital photos or something. But he always talked about my arrival as if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a ‘regular’ mortal wife, and had two ‘regular’ mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn’t exist.” 

I stared out the train window. The lights of a sleeping town were drifting by. I wanted to make Annabeth feel better, but I didn’t know how. 

“My mom married a really awful guy,” I told her. “Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide me in the scent of a human family. Maybe that’s what your dad was thinking.” 

Annabeth kept worrying at her necklace. She was pinching the gold college ring that hung with the beads. It occurred to me that the ring must be her father’s. I wondered why she wore it if she hated him so much. 

“He doesn’t care about me,” she said. “His wife—my stepmom—treated me like a freak. She wouldn’t let me play with her children. My dad went along with her. Whenever something dangerous happened—you know, something with monsters—they would both look at me resentfully, like, ‘How dare you put our family at risk.’ Finally, I took the hint. I wasn’t wanted. I ran away.” 

“How old were you?” 

“Same age as when I started camp. Seven.”

“But…you couldn’t have gotten all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself.” 

“Not alone, no. Athena watched over me, guided me toward help. I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me, for a short time, anyway.” 

I wanted to ask what happened, but Annabeth seemed lost in sad memories. So I listened to the sound of Grover snoring and gazed out the train windows as the dark fields of Ohio raced by. 

“What about you [Name]?” I asked the sleeping boy

“I don’t know. I didn’t exactly have the easiest childhood” he muttered with his eyes still closed

“Oh. Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

He gave me a strained smile “maybe later”

Toward the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis. 

Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch, which looked to me like a huge shopping bag handle stuck on the city. 

“I want to do that,” she sighed. 

“What?” I asked. 

“Build something like that.” Annabeth said “You ever see the Parthenon, Percy?” 

“Only in pictures.” 

“Someday, I’m going to see it in person. I’m going to build the greatest monument to the gods, ever. Something that’ll last a thousand years.” 

I laughed. “You? An architect?”

I don’t know why, but I found it funny. Just the idea of Annabeth trying to sit quietly and draw all day. 

Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention.” 

I watched the churning brown water of the Mississippi below. 

“Sorry,” Annabeth said. “That was mean.” 

“Can’t we work together a little?” I pleaded. “I mean, didn’t Athena and Poseidon ever cooperate?” 

Annabeth had to think about it. “I guess…the chariot,” she said tentatively. “My mom invented it, but Poseidon created horses out of the crests of waves. So they had to work together to make it complete.” 

“Then we can cooperate, too. Right?” 

We rode into the city, Annabeth watching as the Arch disappeared behind a hotel. “I suppose,” she said at last.

[Name] stopped pretending to be looking out the window so studiously. Actually he dropped any pretense that he wasn’t eavesdropping. 

“Okay, an architect I get. Especially after the whole Athena explanation thing. But the parthenon? It’s genius architecture, absolutely but it’s a bit bland. Why not something baroque? Now the christians got something right with the later renaissance and baroque art! Bring Extravagance to the states! A version of St. Peter’s Basilica dedicated to Athena? The dome of les invalides dedicated to Apollo? It could quite literally be another renaissance for Greek Culture”

Annabeth looked a mixture of insulted and really impressed. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by the sound of the train pulling into a station downtown. The intercom told us we’d have a three-hour layover before departing for Denver.

Grover stretched. Before he was even fully awake, he said, “Food.” 

“Come on, goat boy,” Annabeth said. “Sightseeing.” 

“Sightseeing?” 

“The Gateway Arch,” she said. “This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?” 

“I’m in” [Name] said “As long as we don’t argue about architecture the WHOLE time. I’m not as much interested in architecture as much as the flamboyance and distinctive nature of art”

Annabeth rolled her eyes but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

Grover and I exchanged looks. I wanted to say no, but I figured that if Annabeth was going, we couldn’t very well let them go off on their own with exactly one knife between the two. 

Grover shrugged. “As long as there’s a snack bar without monsters.”

The Arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren’t that long. We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other junk from the 1800s. It wasn’t all that thrilling, but Annabeth kept telling us interesting facts about how the Arch was built, and Grover kept passing me jelly beans, so I was okay. 

I kept looking around, though, at the other people in line. “You smell anything?” I murmured to Grover. 

He took his nose out of the jelly-bean bag long enough to sniff. “Underground,” he said distastefully. “Underground air always smells like monsters. Probably doesn’t mean anything.” 

But something felt wrong to me. I had a feeling we shouldn’t be here. “Guys,” I said. “You know the gods’ symbols of power?” 

Annabeth had been in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build the Arch, but she looked over. “Yeah?” 

“Well, Hade—” 

Grover cleared his throat. “We’re in a public place…You mean, our friend downstairs?” 

“Lame” [Name] coughed into his fist

“Um, right,” I said. “Our friend way downstairs. Doesn’t he have a hat like Annabeth’s?” 

“You mean the Helm of Darkness,” Annabeth said. “Yeah, that’s his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during the winter solstice council meeting.” 

“He was there?” I asked. She nodded. “It’s the only time he’s allowed to visit Olympus—the darkest day of the year. But his helm is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat, if what I’ve heard is true.…” 

“It allows him to become darkness,” Grover confirmed. “He can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can’t be touched, or seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?”

“But then…how do we know he’s not here right now, watching us?” I asked. 

Annabeth and Grover exchanged looks. “We don’t,” Grover said. 

“He’s not” [Name] rolled his eyes. He does that a lot when Grover says something ridiculous out of fear. Or when I say anything especially stupid. Normal stupid gets an amused shake of his head.

“Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better,” I said to Grover. “Got any blue jelly beans left?” 

I’d almost mastered my jumpy nerves when I saw the tiny little elevator car we were going to ride to the top of the Arch, and I knew I was in trouble. I hate confined places. They make me nuts. 

We got shoehorned into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. I figured maybe the dog was a seeing-eye Chihuahua, because none of the guards said a word about it. 

We started going up, inside the Arch. I’d never been in an elevator that went in a curve, and my stomach wasn’t too happy about it. 

“No parents?” the fat lady asked us. 

She had beady eyes; pointy, coffee-stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress that bulged so much, she looked like a blue-jean blimp. 

“They’re below,” Annabeth told her. “Scared of heights.” 

“Now that’s how you lie” [Name] mouthed to me. 

I nudged him in the shoulder

“Oh, the poor darlings.” 

The Chihuahua growled. The woman said, “Now, now, sonny. Behave.” 

The dog had beady eyes like its owner, intelligent and vicious. I said, “Sonny. Is that his name?” 

“No,” the lady told me. She smiled, as if that cleared everything up. 

At the top of the Arch, the observation deck reminded me of a tin can ​​with carpeting. Rows of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other. The view was okay, but if there’s anything I like less than a confined space, it’s a confined space six hundred feet in the air. I was ready to go pretty quick.

I thought [Name] was feeling similarly because his teeth were clenched and his fists were clenched around the straps of his backpack. He looked straight ahead and I tried to catch his eye to ask if he was okay but he only glanced at me and then his eyes flickered to the old lady before his gaze returned to the horizon.

Annabeth kept talking about structural supports, and how she would’ve made the windows bigger, and designed a see-through floor. She probably could’ve stayed up there for hours, but luckily for me the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes. 

[Name] and I steered Grover and Annabeth toward the exit, loaded them into the elevator, and I was about to get in myself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for us.

The park ranger said, “Next car, sirs” 

“We’ll get out,” Annabeth said. “We’ll wait with you.” 

But that was going to mess everybody up and take even more time, so I said, “Naw, it’s okay. We’ll see you guys at the bottom.” 

Grover and Annabeth both looked nervous, but they let the elevator door slide shut. Their car disappeared down the ramp. 

Now the only people left on the observation deck were me, [Name] a little boy with his parents, the park ranger, and the fat lady with her Chihuahua. 

I smiled uneasily at the fat lady.

She smiled back, her forked tongue flickering between her teeth. 

Wait a minute. 

Forked tongue? Before I could decide if I’d really seen that, her Chihuahua jumped down and started yapping at me. [Name] grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. 

“Now, now, sonny,” the lady said. “Does this look like a good time? We have all these nice people here.” 

“Doggie!” said the little boy. “Look, a doggie!” 

“Very much NOT a doggie” 

I sent [Name] a confused look but the boy's parents seemed to listen to [Name] and pulled their son back.

The Chihuahua bared his teeth at me, foam dripping from his black lips. 

“Well, son,” the fat lady sighed. “If you insist.” 

Ice started forming in my stomach. “Um, did you just call that Chihuahua your son?” 

“Chimera, dear,” the fat lady corrected. “Not a Chihuahua. It’s an easy mistake to make.” 

She rolled up her denim sleeves, revealing that the skin of her arms was scaly and green. When she smiled, I saw that her teeth were fangs. The pupils of her eyes were sideways slits, like a reptile’s. 

The Chihuahua barked louder, and with each bark, it grew. First to the size of a Doberman, then to a lion. The bark became a roar. 

The little boy screamed. His parents pulled him back toward the exit, straight into the park ranger, who stood, paralyzed, gaping at the monster. 

The Chimera was now so tall its back rubbed against the roof. It had the head of a lion with a blood-caked mane, the body and hooves of a giant goat, and a serpent for a tail, a ten-foot-long diamondback growing right out of its shaggy behind. The rhinestone dog collar still hung around its neck, and the plate-sized dog tag was now easy to read: CHIMERA—RABID, FIRE-BREATHING, POISONOUS—IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL TARTARUS—EXT. 954. 

I realized I hadn’t even uncapped my sword. My hands were numb. I was ten feet away from the Chimera’s bloody maw, and I knew that as soon as I moved, the creature would lunge. 

The snake lady made a hissing noise that might’ve been laughter. “Be honored, Percy Jackson. Lord Zeus rarely allows me to test a hero with one of my brood. For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!”

I stared at her. All I could think to say was: “Isn’t that a kind of anteater?” 

She howled, her reptilian face turning brown and green with rage. “I hate it when people say that! I hate Australia! Naming that ridiculous animal after me. For that, Percy Jackson, my son shall destroy you!” 

The Chimera charged, its lion teeth gnashing. I managed to leap aside and dodge the bite. 

I ended up next to the family and the park ranger, who were all screaming now, trying to pry open the emergency exit doors. 

I couldn’t let them get hurt. I uncapped my sword, ran to the other side of the deck, and yelled, “Hey, Chihuahua!” 

The Chimera turned faster than I would’ve thought possible. 

Before I could swing my sword, it opened its mouth, emitting a stench like the world’s largest barbecue pit, and shot a column of flame straight at me. 

I dove through the explosion. The carpet burst into flames; the heat was so intense, it nearly seared off my eyebrows. 

Where I had been standing a moment before was a ragged hole in the side of the Arch, with melted metal steaming around the edges. 

Great, I thought. We just blowtorched a national monument. 

Riptide was now a shining bronze blade in my hands, and as the Chimera turned, I slashed at its neck. 

That was my fatal mistake. The blade sparked harmlessly off the dog collar. I tried to regain my balance, but I was so worried about defending myself against the fiery lion’s mouth, I completely forgot about the serpent tail until it whipped around and sank its fangs into my calf. 

My whole leg was on fire. I tried to jab Riptide into the Chimera’s mouth, but the serpent tail wrapped around my ankles and pulled me off balance, and my blade flew out of my hand, spinning out of the hole in the Arch and down toward the Mississippi River. 

I managed to get to my feet, but I knew I had lost. I was weaponless. I could feel deadly poison racing up to my chest. I remembered Chiron saying that Anaklusmos would always return to me, but there was no pen in my pocket. Maybe it had fallen too far away. Maybe it only returned when it was in pen form. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t going to live long enough to figure it out. 

I backed into the hole in the wall. The Chimera advanced, growling, smoke curling from its lips. The snake lady, Echidna, cackled. “They don’t make heroes like they used to, eh, son?” 

The monster growled. It seemed in no hurry to finish me off now that I was beaten. 

I glanced at the park ranger and the family. The little boy was hiding behind his father’s legs. I had to protect these people. I couldn’t just…die. I tried to think, but my whole body was on fire. My head felt dizzy. I had no sword. I was facing a massive, fire-breathing monster and its mother. And I was scared. 

There was no place else to go, so I stepped to the edge of the hole. Far, far below, the river glittered. If I died, would the monsters go away? Would they leave the humans alone? 

“If you are the son of Poseidon,” Echidna hissed, “you would not fear water. Jump, Percy Jackson. Show me that water will not harm you. Jump and retrieve your sword. Prove your bloodline.” 

Yeah, right, I thought. I’d read somewhere that jumping into water from a couple of stories up was like jumping onto solid asphalt. From here, I’d splatter on impact. 

The Chimera’s mouth glowed red, heating up for another blast. “You have no faith,” Echidna told me. “You do not trust the gods. I cannot blame you, little coward. Better you die now. The gods are faithless. The poison is in your heart.” 

She was right: I was dying. I could feel my breath slowing down. Nobody could save me, not even the gods. 

I backed up and looked down at the water. I remembered the warm glow of my father’s smile when I was a baby. He must have seen me. He must have visited me when I was in my cradle. 

I remembered the swirling green trident that had appeared above my head the night of capture the flag, when Poseidon had claimed me as his son.

But this wasn’t the sea. This was the Mississippi, dead center of the USA. There was no Sea God here.

“Die, faithless one,” Echidna rasped, and the Chimera sent a column of flame toward my face. 

“Father, help me,” I prayed.

Before I could even think to turn to jump I felt two hands on my shoulders and then–

I was falling.

[Name] POV

The Echidna seemed actually surprised to see Percy fall. I think he might’ve actually jumped himself but I didn’t really feel like waiting to see if the hesitation would kill him. 

The Echidna turned in my direction and I froze. I don’t know how, but it was like she couldn’t see me.

“Dad, if you’re out there. I could really use some help.” I prayed. There was a sudden burst of wind and a smell of fresh fruit. My bag got heavier. I slowly and carefully slid my backpack off of my back and quietly thanked the gods I didn’t have to reach in the velcro pouch to get whatever the gift was. 

Once I had it in my hand I adjusted my grip on the release of my weapon, a staff. My eyes blew wide and confident. Using my other hand I grabbed a rock from the rubble of Percy’s fight with the chimera and threw it in the opposite direction. 

The Echidna whipped her head around and I used the opportunity to plant my staff in the ground and drop kicked her, using my grip on the staff to swing my body upward away from the jaws of the chimera. 

“I usually bet on losing dogs” I said as I used the momentum to drive my heels into the eyes of the lion. “But in a fight? I always bet on me.”

The chimera let out a shrill cry and rolled away a few feet. I squared my stance and adjusted my grip on my staff. 

Okay I thought to myself. It’s gonna launch itself at me again and then try and bite me with the tail 

“Get him sonny,”  The Echidna called out. 

I risked a glance at her to see blood leaking from her temple but she otherwise looked fine. I turned back to the chimera just in time to slide under its attack but the tail struck at me slightly faster than I anticipated. The serpent’s fangs clasped over the staff in the small space between both my hands. It was much stronger than me, my feet were dragging as I was pulled closer to it. Widening my stance, I gripped the staff firmly and spun.

I wasn’t strong enough to rip the tail off, and I doubt I’d ever be honestly, so I focused on twisting it up until it couldn’t breathe. The serpent let go of the staff purely by instinct and I lifted my leg up above my head and brought my heel down on the head of the snake. Then I used it as a launching pad to get above the chimera.

Once in the air, I shifted my grip on the staff towards the middle when I heard a faint whisper. “Not yet…” 

I waited.

“Now!”

I twisted my wrists inward revealing a hidden 7.5 inch blade at the tip. Now even Echidna looked scared. I winked at her and looked down at the chimera and stuck the blade into the crown of the goat’s head. It roared. I stood on the horns, pulled the staff out of its head and shoved the blade through the Lion’s head.

The Echidna roared in anger and turned to charge toward me. I was at my limit so I cocked my arm back and launched the staff like a spear. It went right through her, her body dissolving into gold mist around the staff. 

“Another one bites the dust” I sighed. Then I looked around and realized I killed my first and second monsters back to back and all on my own “Hell yeah”

I covered my mouth and looked at the parents of the little boy from earlier. Sorry I mouthed. Then grabbed my bag and staff before catching the elevator back down. There I ran into Annabeth Percy and Grover all looking up at the arch worriedly.

“Yo.”  

Alpha!Clark who presented as an Alpha and literally couldn't stop thinkin' about you. During his entire first rut, his brain was consumed with thoughts of you. Thoughts of you being such a good omega and helping him with school work, thoughts of him scaring off your bullies who thought you were too flamboyant, thoughts of you beneath him, thoughts of you purring Clark's name into his ear... It really affected Clark. He felt so full of shame once he'd come to after his rut had ended; he literally couldn't look you in the eye for a week!

Alpha!Clark who had discovered a new side of himself, a side he tried so hard to shove down and keep hidden. A side which would keep Clark up at night unless he jerked off to the thought of you, his innocent, perfect, sexy childhood best friend, in compromising positions and situations with the Alpha. A side to himself which made it so difficult for Clark to concentrate on what you were saying when you're eyes looked so pretty looking up at him, when your scent was making his brain feel fuzzy and his dick ache, oh and especially when your voice saying his name to get his attention sounded so sweet. But the superhuman kept this perverted side of himself bottled up. That was until he received a gift.

Alpha!Clark who couldn't turn down a gift from the Omega he'd been desperate to court since childhood. So, when you presented him with a silver band-like ring, how could he resist putting it on? Though both of you were unaware that the minuscule red gem encrusted into the ring, the one you thought was a plastic rhinestone, was actually one of the last tiny pieces of red kryptonite left on earth (excuse the lack of series knowledge). And you wouldn't find out for a while. After all, it was such a tiny piece that it affected Clark very minutely. Though it slowly but surely picked up speed.

Alpha!Clark who thought he just felt a bit braver recently. Maybe his brain had fully developed. Or perhaps he just stopped thinking about consequences or morals as much, but he was definitely acting differently... Again, it started off slow and small. An out-of-pocket kinda sexual comment about you that you'd laugh off: "Your lips look good around that popsicle". Then it turned into more open courting; yeah, you and Clark had kind of been courting each other since childhood, but now the Alpha was carrying your bag around all day and giving you gifts every morning. Then came the jealousy; an alpha couldn't get a word in if Clark was around, whether the said alpha be a friend of yours or even sometimes a teacher, Clark would be on them like white on rice; holding back snarls as his arm snakes around your waist, baring his teeth, and making passive-aggressive comments.

Alpha!Clark who was still managing to put up a 'good Alpha' front despite the influence of the kryptonite. But behind closed doors, it was a very different story. The laundry basket in your room had tempted Clark many times, to the point it became routine for him to sneak a pair of your underwear and take it home with him, replacing it with a pair he'd stolen a couple of weeks past, which had lost your scent. Oh, and not to mention the way that any time you would sleep over at his house, share a bed with him, Clark would make sure you were asleep and jerk off until his dick felt like it would fall off. You just looked so fucking perfect and blissful next to (below) him, how could he resist? How could he stop?

Alpha!Clark who had reached his boiling point. It was a hot summer day, and Clark was being made to help out on his parents' farm while school was out. Of course you offered to help him out, and how could he say no? It was getting to a point that Clark could barely go a whole day without seeing you. But you were really doing the opposite of helping him. Sure, you were getting the jobs around the farm done, no complaints there. But you were rendering the young alpha practically inept with the way your skimpy summer clothes were showing off your skin, the way your body was shiny and sweaty from the hot summer air, and holy shit, the way your face was flushed along with your cute pants of exhaustion? Clark could feel the boner in his pants almost tear the seams of his briefs.

Alpha!Clark who finally submitted to the influence of the red kryptonite in his ring, meaning he finally gave into his desires, his basic Alphan needs. You don't even know how it happened, but one second you were moving around some haybales in the Kent's barn, and the next you were sitting atop said haybales with Clark standing between your legs, kissing you feverishly. His scent of mineral musk and small notes of grapefruit was all you could smell, making your head feel fuzzy as you reciprocated the kiss, the kiss from your childhood best friend. Clark, on the other hand, was greedily inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla bean and sandalwood that was leaking from your scent gland; the alpha literally huffing through his nose whilst moulding his lips against yours, you'd think Clark was addicted to your scent.

Alpha!Clark who had his (temporary) fix of your lips and started kissing down your neck, stopping to give your scent gland some attention, and all the way down to the waistline of your shorts. Before it even registered to you, mainly due to the Alpha pheremones weakening your frontal cortex to increase the chance of reproduction, Clark was on his knees below you; his strong, muscular arms holding your thighs up and his chiselled face between your asscheeks. Loud moans and desperate whines echoed throughout the barn and only worked to egg Clark on as he worked his warm, wet tongue into your hole; your gushing slick and his own spit literally flowing down his chin and perfect jawline like some lewd waterfall. Your fingers gripped the Alpha's brown locks with a force that to you felt like a lot, but to the absolute hunk of an Alpha beneath you felt like an adorable attempt. Your toes curled in the air above Clark's head as your thighs shook from the intense pleasure of an Alpha eating you out like he was starved, because after pinning for you for so many years, Clark may as well have been.

Alpha!Clark who felt his heart skip a beat and his inner alpha scream in pleasure when you came on his tongue as you moaned out Clark's name. But the Alpha fell in love with you even more (though that would be literally impossible) when, after basking in the afterglow of your earthshattering orgasm, you offered Clark the same treatment, explaining with an embarrassed blush that you didn't want him to feel left out. That's how you both ended up lying hayloft of Clark's barn; you on top of the muscular alpha in a sixty-nine position, his dick in your mouth and vice versa. To say that Clark had never felt so much pleasure before would be an understatement, 'cause the way you started to gently lap at the Alpha's musky, inhumanely large dick and then transitioned into head sloppier than Clark had seen in porno's? That shit made Clark wanna cum then and there. But don't think that just 'cause the brunnette was almost drunk on pleasure that he wasn't focusing on your pleasure too! No, no, Clark was having to wrap his muscular arms around your hips to keep them still; the top he was giving you was making you leak slick and pre like a tap left runnin'! Seriously though, Clark could fit your entire omegan prick inside his mouth with ease, and the way his tongue would rub your tip whilst his cheeks would hollow was making you see stars.

Alpha!Clark who held off his orgasm, perks of being Kryptonian, unlike you, who shot another load down the Alpha's throat and leaked so much slick that Clark could have drowned. Though Clark was more than happy to hold off his orgasm if it meant he could knot his Omega; yes, his Omega, 'cause at this point, marking and knotting you were formalities to claiming you. By the time the aftershocks of your second orgasm had quietened down, Clark already had you in another position; kneeling behind you as your chest lay flat on the hayloft, your hips on the other hand, propped up and presenting for your Alpha. Clark gave you the grace of entering you slowly and giving you time to adjust to his ten-inch monster; though from the mewls and moans of pain and pleasure you were letting out, his soft approach barely helped.

Alpha!Clark who rocked your world the moment you gave him the green light. We're talking backshots that could be heard all the way in England; Clark's huge, masculine hands gripping your hips tight enough to move you on and off his cock but gently enough to let you know he cares. Your breathy moans loudly reverberated throughout the barn as Clark knocked the wind out of you with every thrust, and the Alpha's own groans and moans harmonised with yours so nicely. Your scents mixed in the air along with the smell of slick, spit, and sweat; the hot, humid summer air making even the open-plan barn stink of raw sex. The scene looked like it belonged in a VHR porno, and both of you couldn't get enough of it; your Omega keening and purring at the physical and emotional feeling of having an Alpha like Clark want you in this way, and Clark's alpha roaring in pleasure and pride from having his Omega beneath him and drunk on pleasure from his doing.

Alpha!Clark who checked in on you one last time before letting himself go, leaning down, his muscular chest to your arching back, and whispering in your ear 'you doin' good? Mind if I knot you, darling?'. Ugh and when you give the man a forced nod and moan out a 'yes please'? How could Clark help himself? He'd wrapping and arm around your waist and another around head, letting your head rest against his huge bicep as his hips start moving at a speed your body could barely register or handle. All you could remember other than your own lewd sounds and moans was Clark's groaned-out string of perverted, raw, Alphan comments as he knotted you. "Fuck you're so tight" "So fuckin' good for me- the- NGH- perfect fucking Omega" "AH- Shit-! so wet and warm just for your- your alpha" "Fuck 'm gonna knot you 'n fill you with my pups, darlin' You want that, don't ya?" That dirty talk, along with the feeling of Clark's thick knot pushing against your rim, was what sent you over the edge for a third time. You saw white, then black, then stars of white again as your vision came back in small spots. Your dick soaked the wood and hay below you with infertile Omegan cum, your breathy moans and whiny pants mixed with Clark's moans and croons as his knot kept him locked inside of you; his thick, warm, scarily fertile cum filling you to the brim. Every unconscious pulse of your walls coaxed and forced another shot of seed out of Clark; a natural push and pull from your inner Omega and Alpha. At the end of the day, no matter how much pleasure you get out of this, the end goal, whether you want it or not, is pups.

His pocket buzzed again. Then again. And, against his better judgment, he checked. It was a photo. You in bed, nothing but his shirt hanging loose off your shoulders, collarbones exposed, lips parted in a mock-innocent pout. The caption:

"You coming home soon, reporter? I need you to fact check me."

Clark pressed his thighs together so hard the chair creaked. Heat pooled in his gut, and the councilman was still talking. He managed a tight smile, pen barely moving as the phone buzzed again. Another photo. This time your hand slid lower, teasing at skin he knew too well.

Clark’s ears burned. His glasses fogged at the corners. He could feel his control fraying.

“Mr. Kent? You look a little flushed.” the councilman said, pausing with a slightly concerned expression.

Clark forced a chuckle, voice strained. “Ah—just a little warm in here.”

By some miracle, he made it through the rest of the interview without combusting on the spot. The second he was dismissed, he offered a handshake, mumbled a polite farewell, and then he was gone in a blur of red and blue no one could see.

Clark didn’t even bother with keys or doors. He blurred into the apartment, suit jacket half-off before he reached the bedroom, glasses discarded somewhere in the hallway. By the time he reached you, sprawled on the sheets in nothing but his shirt, he was already half hard and flushed scarlet.

“You’re cruel,” he growled, hands gripping your wrists as he pressed you down into the mattress. “Do you know what you put me through?”

You smirked, voice low. “I saw the pictures I sent. Pretty sure you enjoyed them.”

Clark’s answering kiss was rough, hungry. His mouth devoured yours, tongue sliding against yours in messy desperation. His usually careful hands were frantic—tugging the shirt off your shoulders, yanking at his own tie until it snapped.

“You almost had me coming undone in front of a councilman,” he rasped against your throat. “I couldn’t think of anything but you spread out, touching yourself—” His teeth sank lightly into your collarbone, making you gasp. “—and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

You arched up against him, rolling your hips. “Well, you can now.”

That snapped the last of his control. Clark tore his shirt open, buttons scattering across the room, chest heaving. He stripped you bare in seconds, his large hands greedy as they mapped every inch of skin. He kissed down your chest, sucking marks over your ribs and biting your hip hard enough to bruise.

When he finally slid between your thighs, the sight alone made you moan. Clark’s pupils were blown wide, jaw tight as he pushed your legs open and settled in. He stroked himself once—thick, flushed, dripping already—before pressing the tip against you.

“Clark—” you gasped, clutching at his shoulders.

He leaned down, kissing you softer now, but no less intense. “Tell me you want this,” he whispered. “Tell me you need me as bad as I need you.”

Your reply was a moan into his mouth, grinding up against him. “God, yes. Please. I’ve been waiting all day.”

That was all he needed. He thrust forward slowly, stretching you open inch by inch until you cried out against his lips. His forehead pressed to yours, jaw clenched as he fought to keep control. “Fuck—you’re so tight—always so perfect for me.”

Once he bottomed out, his rhythm was relentless. Deep, hard thrusts that had you clawing at his back and crying out his name. Clark’s hands pinned your hips down, forcing you to take every inch as he pounded into you, the bedframe shaking with each movement.

“Wanted to bend you over that interview table,” he groaned, sweat beading at his temples. “Wanted to fuck you right there with my notepad on the floor. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your eyes rolled back as he angled his hips, slamming into that spot that made you see stars. “Clark—fuck—right there—”

His thrusts grew faster, more desperate, his control unraveling with every sound you made. “That’s it—take me, just like that—” His hand slid between you, stroking you in time with his thrusts until your body trembled.

You came first, crying out as you spilled over your stomach and his chest, clenching so tight around him that Clark lost all rhythm. With a strangled groan, he buried himself deep one last time, spilling inside you with a force that made his whole body shudder.

Clark lay draped over you for a long moment, chest still heaving, his weight heavy but comforting. When your breathing evened out, he finally stirred, pressing one last kiss to your neck before pulling back with a sheepish little smile.

“You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “One of these days, you’re going to cost me my job.”

You smirked lazily, still catching your breath. “Pretty sure the Pulitzer Prize winner can survive one horny boyfriend.”

Clark laughed, low and warm, the sound vibrating against your skin. He kissed you again—slow, unhurried—before carefully slipping out of bed. In less than a second, he was back with a damp towel and a glass of water, moving with that gentle efficiency that made your chest ache.

“Here,” he said softly, wiping you clean with careful strokes, not a trace of the earlier frenzy left. He was meticulous, making sure you were comfortable before handing you the water. “Drink. You always forget.”

You rolled your eyes but obeyed, sipping as Clark slid back into bed. He pulled you into his arms immediately, tucking you against his broad chest like you were the only thing anchoring him.

For a while, there was only the sound of your heartbeats syncing together. Then Clark’s voice broke the quiet, playful but fond. “I should write my editor a resignation letter right now. Reason: my boyfriend is a menace to productivity.”

You snorted into his chest. “Admit it—you liked the distraction.”

His hand stroked lazily up and down your back, soothing. “Liked? I almost flew out of there mid-question. You make Superman sweat, you know that?”

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, the corners of your lips curving. “That’s the goal.”

Clark shook his head, chuckling, then kissed your forehead, all softness now. “My goal is to make sure you never doubt how much I love you.” His voice was a whisper, thick with sincerity. “No matter how much trouble you cause me at work.”

You grinned, curling closer into him. “Guess we both win, then.”

"Sylus..." You moan out his name for what was probably the fiftieth time as he lazily drags his palm over your lengths once more. "Yes, sweet boy?" He asks back, voice rumbling back in that teasing manner that made you want to shove your dick down his throat.

You roll your hips once again, desperately trying to build up more friction. Sylus had kept the two of you on the edge for what seemed like hours now. Every time you or him got close to cumming, he'd only stop his movements. Denying the both of you release, driving the two of you deeper and deeper into the haze of pleasure.

A whine tears from your throat as he rubs his thumb over yours, spreading the pre cum that was beading at your tip. "Such pretty noises." Sylus growls out, panting above you as he tries to restrain himself from rutting his cock against yours.

You choke a sob back as you feel your orgasm rise with you once again. "Please Sylus. I can't take much more of this." You plead, voice shaking as tears well in your eyes and threaten to roll down and stain your cheeks. Sylus chuckles a laugh that matches every single gold coin, precious gemstone, and priceless artifact in his hoard.

"Begging already, puppy?" He asks, his tone taunting as he smirks down at you and you don't know if you want to smack him or kiss it off his stupidly handsome fucking face. "F-ucking hell, Sylus. Fuck me already, will you?" You all but growl out, so close to snapping if he didn't give you release soon.

Sylus raises a brow, halting his hand, making your cock ache for more of his touch. "So demanding." He growls out, shoving your legs apart and gripping his cock at the base with one hand while his other hand spreads you open for his view, your hole clenching around nothing. "Yet your hole is clenching so sluttily." He muses out, making your cheeks warm with embaressment.

Sylus presses the tip of his dick to your entrance, slowly pushing his way inside. You moan out, the stretch burning your walls but the pain felt so good. He keeps pushing until he bottoms out inside you, exhaling heavily, warm breath washing over your ear as he groans at how tight you feel.

"Tell me when I can move, puppy." He breathes out, thumb rubbing circles on your hipbone as he patiently waits for your body to adjust to his size so that he can comfortably move without hurting you. You lay beneath him, whimpering softly and clutching onto him as you wait for the pain to subside.

Eventually, you give a nod and Sylus begins to move slowly, watch your reactions closely, searching for any sign of pain or discomfort. You moan out softly as he moves inside you, only feeling pleasure with each roll of his hips. "That's it, baby. Feels good, doesn't it?" He coos out softly, making you nod. "Mm. M-More. Please." You breathe out, making that smug smirk return to his face.

"As you wish, little knight." He purrs, thrusting faster and harder into you, his hand reaching to wrap back around your length and pump his hand in time with his thrusts, drawing more lewd noises from your pretty throat.

It doesn't take long for him to turn you into a mess, the hours of edging quickly making you dumb on his cock. Drool slipping out your mouth, pupils blown, and nails scratching down his skin and scales. Sylus thrusts deeper inside you, hitting your prostate and making you cry out.

A growl falls from the dragon's throat at the noise and he focuses his attention on the spot, bullying it with the tip of his cock and making you cry out over and over again. Each noise bounces off the walls of his lair and all Sylus can think about is how your worth more than any item in his entire hoard, about how he'd give it all to you if it meant making you happy, if it meant making you his.

"Stay with me. Please. Don't wanna let you go." He pants out, face burrowing into the crook of you neck and nipping at the flesh, hoping to leave marks on your skin. You let out a breathy laugh that gets cut off with a choked moan as he plunges his tip into your warm walls again. "I-I'm a knight, Sylus. I have duties." You manage to choke out between noises.

Sylus all but whines at that answer, making your heart ache. "Then visit me when you can, little knight. My heart is yours." He says, tone pleading, almost vulnerable as his spare hand grasps your waist tenderly.

"F-uck. Alright. I'll visit when I can." You answer, one hand tangling in his white tresses as he ruts up into you. "Mm I'm close." He pants out, his hips stuttering. "Cum with me, puppy." He says, thumb rubbing over your tip, making your hips buck. The two of you tumble into ecstasy together, crying out each others names before collapsing into a tangle of limbs.

Gentle touches and words of praise follow afterwards. Sylus cleans you up and brings you water and snacks and you feed him and press gentle kisses to his collarbone. "Don't go back yet." He pleads softly, holding you closely and you smile softly. "Big bad dragon can't let his new toy go?" You tease but he holds you closer.

"You're not a toy. You're more valuable than my entire hoard." He murmurs, nuzzling into you, scenting you. Your heart melts at his words, your gaze softening as you brush his hair back. "Alright. I guess I can afford to stay for awhile before the King starts to wonder if you ate me alive." You say, making him huff out a laugh of amusement.

"Mm deal." He says softly, tail sneaking to tug you closer as you relax into him, hearts synching as the two of you eventually drift off in the heart of his hoard. But all Sylus can think about is how you've wormed into his heart in such a short amount of time. And for once... he was okay with that.

His lips capture yours in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans at every swipe of his tongue. Thrusts are slow and deep, tip grinding into your prostate at every chance he can get, like it’s second nature (it is). A thick hand reaches around your hip—ignoring your leaking cock—palm flat near your navel where he knows he’ll be and pressing hard.

The sudden orgasm wracks through you with a choked moan, body trembling as white squirts onto the bedsheets below. Fuck! Has all those porno bl’s gotten to your head? There’s no fuckin’ way you squirted—you thought that was only in fiction! You can feel your face heat up from embarrassment.

“Scheiße…” König breathes while slowing to a stop, eyes wide while watching your form tremble from the aftershocks. Could you get any hotter?

“D-don’t get bigger—!” The hand on your hips doesn’t stop you from weakly pulling yourself off him—globs of lube and precum slipping out with his still hard cock—the pressure on your prostate getting too much.

“Little maus,” he muses, a hand reaching out to grab hold of your weak leg, “where you off to now?” He tugs lightly—as if you weighed next to nothing—just enough to pull you back in place and guiding you back into an arch, ass pressed against hips as his red tip leaks. “I haven’t finished yet.”

“Can’t believe I fuckin’ squirted…” you mumble into the fresh cleaned sheets (courtesy of him), eyeing König as he looks away sheepishly, perverse his physique. He wrings a damp cloth out, forcing that image out of his head less he wants to get hard again.

König mumbles apologizes as the cloth unconsciously makes you flinch in spite of him soaking it in warm water. He’s gentle around your ass and perineum, turning a blind eye to the fingerprints and hickeys he’s made, a feeling akin to embarrassment or shame (and pride) at the sight. He can only hope it doesn’t hurt too much.

"You called for me, young master?", Obanai kneeled down infront of his master's son, both out of respect and to be more on eye level with the child. (Y/N) nodded cheerfully, his impatience visible by the way he bobbed up and down on the spot, "I have a very important item to give you, mister Obanai. One you shall keep safe.", he said in feign seriousness.

Obanai tended to take (Y/N) serious, no matter how much his instincts told him it was all meant in a playful manner. He couldn't risk disrespecting the young boy, after all.

So he held out his hands, "Of course." The boy's happy giggle urged the black-haired to listen to his gut feeling more, and play along and only act like he was tasked with protecting a valuable artifact. Obanai wasn't one to be playful, though, so he refused.

He watched (Y/N) pull out something out of his sleeve. Mismatched eyes widened as he realised it was merely a bracelet, clearly handmade. The chriping of the birds around them was all that accompanied the silence between the two for a few long seconds.

Laughing at the older one, (Y/N) let the bracelet fall in Obanai's open palm, "A sign of our friendship!", he cheered, "So don't loose it, hehe."

The hashira inspected the accessory. Upon further inspection he made out two eyes on one of the white beads. The beads were supposed to be a snake, making it's way around in a circle until it met its tail.

"Look! I have a matching one!", the boy held his wrist next to Obanai's hand, which was, indeed adorned by an identical bracelet. The black-haired wasn't sure what the correct response to this act of affection was, so he just slid the bracelet on, "Thank you, young master."

Sadly, (Y/N) missed out on the sight of Obanai gliding his fingers over the head of the snake bracelet with a fond smile under his bandages.

"Hm?", a tug on Sanemi's haori made him stop in his tracks as he was leaving the meet up spot after a hashira meeting, locking eyes with (Y/N) who was grinning up to him. "You are not dismissed yet!", the boy tried to pout, but his smile broke through very clearly.

Sanemi could only nod with lightly furrowed brows while (Y/N) dragged him out of sight of any bystanders in the vicinity.

The hashira wasn't at all worried about anything, he knew the boy was a playfull little one. Someone who loved to drag him along, often to play, which is what Sanemi thought was his mission right then. "I can't stay for long, young master. There is a mission I need to prepare for."

(Y/N) nodded along, promising it wouldn't take even five minutes.

As soon as (Y/N) was satisfied with their location, he let go of the hashira. Giggling to himself, he fished out something out of his pockets, with his back turned to the older one.

He quickly hid both his hands behind his back when he turned around, "Which hand?"

A guessing game? Yeah, Sanemi wasn't really happy about being pulled from his important work for something like this, but he humored him nonetheless, it was his master's son, after all.

"Your left."

Giggling even louder than before, the (Y/HC)-haired revealed his left hand, opening his palm in the process. There was a bracelet with thin, silver beeds, as well as a few pinwheel shaped ones.

"A bracelet?", the man took the item out of the other's hand, inspecting it further.

That's when (Y/N) revealed his other hand from behind his back, holding an identical bracelet in his palm, "As a sign of our friendship!" He urged Sanemi to put it on, like he did himself, grasping both his scarred hands in his own small ones. "Do you like it??", if it weren't for Sanemi's sturdy body, the boy would've made him loose his balance from how hard he was shaking his arms out of excitement.

The silver-haired didn't dare to let a sweat drop roll down his face, "Yes, of course. Thank you, young master."

Satisfied with the older one's answer, (Y/N) let out yet another giggle and went in for a short hug, before disappearing.

Alright. Time to prepare for the upcoming mission.

...After making sure to put this gift somewhere safe and secure.

The hint of a smile was present on Tengen's lips, his eyes closed as he sat on the grass, arms and legs crossed. Someone was approaching, someone small. He could feel their presence, slowly sneaking up on him. And the hashira played along, letting them come closer and closer.

Just to dodge to the side when they went to jump on him, catching them with one arm.

"Eek!", (Y/N) yelped, making Tengen laugh, "Nice try, but there's still plenty of room for improvement." (Y/N) pouted at him halfheartedly, climbing up his arm to wrap his arms around the older one's neck, "You say that, not noticing I succeeded in my mission!", he giggled out.

"Oh?", only then Tengen noticed something shiny on his thigh. He blinked at it, stunned, "Wow. You made more process than I thought!", he sent the boy clinging on him a big grin.

"Is this for me?", he then asked, picking up the accessory and gliding the pad of his thumb over the diamond-like beads. (Y/N) nodded wildly, "I saw the beads and immediately thought of you!" Tengen chuckled, gently shaking of the kid to slide on the bracelet, "It's perfect! So flashy and vibrant! You have a good eye, little one."

(Y/N) giggled happily, as the hashira patted his head, "Thank you! I made a matching one for myself. See? It's a sign of our friendship, you know?", he tugged on his sleeve to show off another bracelet, matching Tengen's.