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lovebugism · 1 year

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could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw

✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !

summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo

( MASTERLIST )

Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth.

He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.

It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.

Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him.

“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.

You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”

Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.

When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.

Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.

Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.

“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”

Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.

You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”

The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness.

“…I’m gonna try.”

He was pretty much a goner after that.

The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.

Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.

And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.

He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.

That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.

The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).

And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.

If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.

But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.

So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.

Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.

Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.

Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.

Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.

Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.

You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”

The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.

He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.

“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”

Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”

“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”

With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.

“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.

He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.

And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.

Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.

Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess.

“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Eds—”

“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”

“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.

“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”

Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”

You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”

He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”

“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”

“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.

It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”

“Eddie!” you scold.

“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”

“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”

“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod

Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.

“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”

“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”

He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”

“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”

With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step.

You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.

Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.

“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”

You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”

“…Really?”

“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.

“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”

A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.

Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.

You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.

“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”

You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.

“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.

“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”

You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side.

You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.

It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.

Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.

You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace.

You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.

Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.

You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”

“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.

“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”

“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell.

You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.

But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.

Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.

You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch.

He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe.

You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.

The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?

Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.

Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you.

Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.

His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.

He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.

As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.

“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”

“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”

You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.

But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.

“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.

It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.

“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”

“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”

Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.

The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.

He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.

You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.

“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.

“…What?”

“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”

You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different.

“Better?” you tease.

Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.

You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.

“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.

Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose.

You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.

You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #st oneshots #eddie spaghetti oneshot

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fitgirlfemdom · 5 months

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✧∘* ✧･ﾟbigger guys✧∘* ✧･ﾟ

you meet me at the gym. maybe i caught your eye from the squat rack or maybe you watched as a downed a bottle of water during a break. it doesn't matter--we get to talking. eventually, you realize, i come to that gym everyday, and soon we get to exchanging numbers. i come across as this demure, young cardiobunny with a bit of an obsession for you, and maybe you're just looking to score.

it doesn't matter. i tell you that i like bigger guys. you ask me about my opinion of you, and i suggest that you could eat a few more calories. after all, it's bulking season. you don't really think that your 10% body fat is gonna maintain all the way to summer, do you? i suggest a mass gainer shake brand, and although you forget most of our conversation, on your way home, you couldn't help but stop by a grocery store and pick some up.

that's when i start asking you about it. i recommend, after our respective work-outs when we're downing out protein shakes, you take your mass gainer at the same time. it's efficiency, after all. you say you want to ease into it, but after meeting my eyes as the bottle touches your lips, something changes in you.

i go to the gym everyday, and when i see you enter, i ask about the shakes. you did bring some with you, right? you won't get any gains if you don't eat right after! didn't you know that? and that brand isn't even that good anyway. who told you to get that? let's head to your place after--i'll show you how to make a real shake.

that's when it becomes a daily routine--well, it started to, before your lethargy got to you. post-workout, i'd head over and whip up something special for you--gobs of peanut butter, mass gainer, heavy cream, protein powder, the works--all in the comfort of your own blender. you start to question if all of this is really necessary, but i did tell you big guys were better, and are you gonna tell me i'm wrong? look at you. don't get self-deprecating now. i like how much you've gained!

the daily work-out dates turn to me seeing you after, crashed out on the couch. you head to the gym a few times a week, but not as commonly as before. you've just been so tired lately, i get it. rest days are even more important for recovery, though. it's doctors' orders-you need more sleep, and you need more shakes. when you're not ordering DoorDash, i'm the one cooking for you. a shake goes with every meal--it's mandatory. and you love it. they taste good! why think so hard about it when i'm smiling when you do it?

in fact, going to the gym at all is just cutting down the muscle you already have, don't you know that? you need some time to regain mass. you might as well quit your job--it's so demanding, isn't it? i could support both of us easily, and why would i want you to risk burning more calories out and about? it'd be much easier for you to sit on the couch and regroup, watch some TV, watch some porn, and eat.

you quit your job, because it's sucked the soul out of you, honestly. you've moved in with me, because there's no reason to live separately when we spend all our time together. you can't go five minutes without one of my shakes or my meals, after all. you're honestly a real glutton now, if i'm being honest. whenever i return from my daily gym visit, i make sure to bring you plenty of take-out, or three pizzas, or a few Subway footlongs, just to make sure you're well-fed. you've added probably 100lbs of mass at this point. it'd be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

you barely move from the couch, and i think it's starting to get to you. your gym buddies are all wondering what happened, and you can barely get the strength to sit-up by yourself, but that mental turmoil seems to dissipate when you're eating. it just tastes too good, doesn't it, baby? you're so full, but you love when i bring a fork to your lips, or a slice of pizza to your mouth. you love when i nod affirmatively, smiling as i watch you down another one of my shakes.

you especially love when i ride you. all those past memories, memories of athletic prowess, of high school cheerleaders, of locker room chats, all seem to fade away. the rush of a new PR, the delight in pumping iron, it's all gone. you spread your thick, plumped-out thighs outward and i straddle you as the TV plays. it's hard to get a good hold on your cock with that gut in the way, but you're so hard, so needy, so hot--i plunge myself on it right away. you feel my tight, toned body squeeze the life out of you, hearing the wet slaps of your balls on my defined, perky ass. you might not be able to move as well now, but i certainly can. i'm the tightest you've ever had, and my tits are pressed up against your face.

you're sweating, and you're not even moving. well, not intentionally, anyway. your tits are bouncing more than mine, let's be honest. everything about me is perky and defined, firm--even my ribs are apparent. but you? you're a pig. your moans almost sound like oinks, that's how much pressure you've put on your body. you stare up at me riding your cock, and because of your porn-rotten brain and how pathetic you are, you cum almost immediately, like always. doesn't matter. i give you a hearty dose of Viagra with your mass gainer shake after, and i use your cock for the next few hours. i get horny after the gym, what can i say?

you've blown at least four loads into my wet cunt at this point, and although my stamina hasn't faltered, you're completely spent. your cock is so overstimulated, you wince at the slightest touch. i know this, baby, and i care about you so much, so i make sure i've licked every inch of it clean. i stare up at you from this angle, but i can barely see your face behind your gut. you've really let yourself go, haven't you? you're shaking, overfed, overstimulated, bound to this couch under your own poor decisions. why even leave the house? they're all just gonna make fun of you. you think your gym buddies won't have a few choice words to say about you when you make your return?

you don't care about this, about any of this. your brain is so melted from the constant dopamine, the constant pleasure, that you've lost all self-awareness. your daily schedules consists of cable TV, countless hours of porn and touching your pathetic cock, and, of course, eating everything in sight. you're a complete degenerate, but you're my complete degenerate.

i did tell you i liked bigger guys.

#feedee encouragement #feedee feeder #feedee piggy #feederist #feeding kink #ffa #male feedism #male feedee #gaining weight on purpose #chubby guy #gaining kink

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bigwishes · 7 months

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October Fires Bring....

The power of fire is one most think they can avoid, when they think of fire they think of roaring bush fires or bonfires reaching to the sky but the power finds its way to sneak its way into our lives.

The warmth of the flames we use to cook our food allows the power of fire to be imbued into our meals. As you take a simple bite, a mindless you perform multiple times a day but this time was different, this time that single bite allows warmth to flood your body. It allows fire to fill your blood causing you to grow and change.

Your biceps swells with size and power and you hear your shirt rip as you feel compelled to take another bite of your meal, and then another and another. Dropping your knife and fork you need to feast, you need to fuel the fire in your stomach before it burns out.

You feel your quads swell and hear your pants rip. Your stomach begins to feel painfully full but you need to eat and fuel the fire inside of you. Rising from the table you almost push the entire thing over. Feeling your stomach bubble like a witches cauldron,

BUUUUUURRRRPPPPPPPP

you belch as you march into your kitchen eating as much as you can to fuel the fire inside of you. Eating with your bare hands and belching after every bite. Every bite making you bigger and more of a slob, forced to grow with every meal to fuel the gluttonous fire for the rest of October.

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #gay transformation #tf story #transformation

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alternative-ffa · 8 months

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Your breath labored. Your stomach so bloated and full, you can almost feel the food in your throat. Trapped in the industrial recliner in your living room, you can feel the fat of your sides spilling over the armrests. You fit in it perfectly a few months ago... what happened?

Your gluttony took over. Consumed with boredom, you ate. You didn't care what your neighbors thought when every single meal you consumed was delivered. With the amount of food you've been getting, your house was becoming a hub of food drop-offs.

Reaching your hands down around your belly, you knew you had to massage yourself to help you digest. So you firmly rub the bloated pile of fat that is your stomach - then a loud belch erupts. You moan with relief that you have more room now.

But then you're tempted... there is still more food to eat. Another burp comes up; almost instructing you to pick up the fork again.

The excess fat enveloping your body jiggles and settles as you reach towards the folding tray with the rest of your afternoon snack.

You glance over - the TV is off, and it might as well be a mirror. You look at yourself. A belly that spills down over your knees, the new rolls of fat that make up your body, the angry red stretch marks that spread across your fat like many rivers. You're transfixed by the reflection. Your face is so fat, you don't recognize yourself. But instead of disgust, you feel pride. Existing as a pile of lard suits you.

In the reflection, you can see that you're already covered in crumbs and sauce, so you dive into one of the plates with reckless abandon. No fork needed. You almost wanted your hands messy - grabbing frosted pastries and shoveling them as fast as you could into your mouth. No wonder you were outgrowing your chair. This binging was now a multiple-times-a-day occurrence.

You're licking the plate, desperate for every calorie. Your eyes look towards the TV again - you want to watch yourself eat. You see the gluttonous freak you've become. A blur of cream colored flesh; rolls of fat spilling over the armrests. Gigantic breasts melded into side rolls that pushed your obese arms away from your torso. Groaning in pleasure, you wish you could reach your dick. It was throbbing beneath the fat of your groin and belly. You try to jiggle the bottom of your belly. It usually helps to stimulate you - but you're so stuffed that even a jiggle makes you feel slightly nauseous.

A noise of annoyance escapes from your sauce covered lips. Now you have to choose: stop eating so you can jiggle your fat to stimulate yourself to climax? Or continue to throb with desire as you force the food down your gullet, knowing with every bite, you're getting fatter?

#ssbhm belly #ffa #ffa bhm #ssbhm #bhm #supersize #fat belly #ffassbhm #fat #fat fantasy #ssbhmstory #gluttony #weight gain #weightgain #fat story

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missmugiwara · 8 months

Text

Got It Bad ♡ Part 2

Summary: fem!reader x Luffy // please read part 1 first // You need a snack. Luffy needs a snack. You should help each other out, but be careful because you really spoil Luffy too much. Warning: 18+, slightly NSFW, very suggestive, slight dom Luffy, we getting a little freaky with food but nothing crazy Note: Back by popular demand! I don't usually do this, but the amount of love I received from part 1 (which was meant to be a one-shot originally) has really touched my heart. So I am honored to give you more Luffy love. Thank you all so much!

♡ Please read Part 1 first! Here is Part 3! ♡

♡ This chapter is a gift for the lovely @kingofthe-egirls ♡

Oh, Luffy that wonderful tease.

Get him back? Get him back?

How could you possibly get him back for that dirty little stunt? That carefree, dirty, yummy, delicious little stunt that made your heart skip a beat. Let's face it - Luffy was too fast and too silly. An expert at shenanigans. Maybe you needed to think a bit harder, somehow be one step ahead of that goofy man.

Maybe… you needed to think this over while having a snack.

So you merrily walked into the kitchen, and Sanji greeted you with an adoring smile. You smiled back politely and glanced over to the table to see Luffy seated and stuffing his face.

Speaking of snacks, Sanji always prepared a succulent snack every day - one for each of the Straw Hats - but of course, Luffy's insatiable apetite always left said rubber man wanting more. And when he asked the cook for more, he was denied.

This was where you, Luffy's sweet savior, came in to be the answer to his food-related problems.

Sanji obviously had a soft spot for you. So if you asked Sanji for more food, then he gave you more. This was really easy. All you needed to do was whisper hotly in his ear, and he was swayed. Really, you could do anything and Sanji would be spewing his eternal love for you. Yes, it made you feel bad to use him, but you kept doing it over and over.

Why?

Because you were in love.

This was all solely for your captain. That gluttonous, silly, cute-as-a-button captain. The events of a earlier in the day kept replaying in your head. How Luffy grabbed you, how Luffy spoke, how comfortable he was and how…

How much of a hot mess he made of you!

It was truly no fair how provocative Luffy was and how natural it came. He made it effortless whilst you were over here struggling to tell him your feelings. You let out a sigh when you sauntered further into the kitchen at your dilemma, with Luffy so deep in consuming his snack he did not notice you.

Your attention flickered back over to the cook, who let you know he just finished baking a cake. Going back to the point about being Luffy's sweet savior, if you got extra food from Sanji then you gave it to Luffy. If Luffy ate the food, he was happy. If he was happy, then you were overjoyed. You would do anything for Luffy. Plus, Luffy knew you would do anything for him - especially if he asked you to work your magic on Sanji. Goodness, you really were spoiling him.

So when Luffy tugged at the hem of your shirt oh-so innocently, breaking you from your thoughts, you knew it was time for seconds. Sanji started to catch on to this, and when he inquired if you were handing off food to Luffy, you lied. In the end, he'd see you and Luffy cackle away, and he'd curse himself for falling for you once again.

Despite this, there was no problem from Sanji as you walked back from the fridge with an extra slice of cake in tow - chocolate with strawberry filling and frosting. Upon seeing you carry a slice, Sanji quickly excuded himself to go give one to Nami and Robin outside. You hummed as you sat down next to Luffy who had the biggest smile. You forked up a piece and held it up to his mouth.

Sweetly, you called, "Here, Luffy!"

With a big ahhh Luffy stretched open his mouth and chomped down, leaving you to giggle in content. He was too cute for his own good. Feeding him was the best because he was always so appreciative. As of lately, he was reciprocating. Luffy would feed you as well. At first, you both thought nothing of it since it was so innocent, but it was becoming one of these special things that only you two shared in.

For a split second, you two locked gazes. A small blush appeared on the captain's face, and in turn your face was becoming really hot. What was that look in his eyes? Moments like these kept happening more frequently. They were beginning to occur out of pure innocence, but they kept you hopeful that maybe, just maybe this was a sign of affection from Luffy somehow.

Luffy broke your gaze first, looking back at the table to grab a cookie. Trying to shake off this rising heat and a tingle now forming in the pit of your stomach, you quickly glanced back at the table to gain a sense of normalcy back. That's when you got a great idea.

"Hey, Luffy?"

With a mouth full of food, he spluttered out, "What?"

"Boop!"

You leaned in to gently tap him on the nose, wiping a bit of frosting on it. You pulled back to smile at the confused captain. Luffy went cross-eyed trying to stare at what was on his nose until he registered it as cake frosting.

"Hey! Why'd you do that?" he beamed at the spontaneity, trying to sound mad but really was only amused.

"Just thought it would be fun!" you cooed, swiping your finger across the cake to re-frost your captain. Could this really get him back? Probably not, but it was still fun nonetheless. You turned to him, laughing, ready to strike again - but Luffy caught your wrist.

"Nope!"

There was a hint of playfulness in Luffy's tone, and he somewhat roughly pulled you toward him - though he would never hurt you in a million years. Locking eyes with him, you parted your lips slowly in confusion. You stared at Luffy, and he at you for what seemed like forever. He grinned before pulling your hand up to his lips. He stuck his tongue out, and you twitched nervously.

Was he about to…?

And he took a long lick of your finger.

A long, slow lick. Luffy, who did not break his gaze from yours for even a second, watched your expression change instantly. An intense heat fluttered over your cheeks. So many thoughts flooded your brain. The biggest one being - oh gosh, what was that lidded gaze he was giving you? Your heart thundered in your chest and the room was becoming unbelievably hot, and this was unbelievably hot, and-

"Mmm, so sooo good!"

It didn't help as Luffy completely sucked your finger into his mouth, and you could feel his warm, wet tongue move against it. A squeak escaped past your lips, and Luffy only swirled his tongue around your finger before he released you with a pop of his lips, smiling widely at his work. In your stunned state, it was too bad you didn't notice his other rubber arm snaking around you quietly to grab at the piece of cake on the table.

Oh, my god - he really just did that!

What a tease.

What a freaking tease, but you only wanted more. Why stop there? You needed him, desired him. Gladly, you would let the captain put his mouth anywhere he'd like. Any part of your body! Just so long as his lips would -

WHAM!

Luffy was so good at invading your thoughts as well as taking you out of them. He smashed the cake right onto the side of your face. You had just the smallest fraction of time to think, so you raised your arm to block yourself. It wasn't quick enough. Luffy rendered you a mess. Cake in your hair, on your face, neck - all the way down into your shirt.

"Oh, Luffy!" You looked down at the mess that was yourself, "You got me real good, huh?"

You looked back at him with a sheepish smile. Normally, you should have been mad, but it was Luffy. Because of that reason alone, you let him do whatever he pleased much to the dismay of your crewmates. You laughed, and he joined you. It was no surprise that he would do this, however, what was a surprise was the way he seemed to look at you.

It was a different kind of look - a look of hunger, a look of pure starvation yet not aimed at food. Something a bit more hard to define. Perhaps it was a look of being bothered. The captain was staring at you with a sort of devious smirk, brows furrowed together in focus, and tongue sticking out of mouth.

"Uh… Luffy?"

Whatever that hungry look in his eyes meant, the butterflies were returning to your stomach.

"Luffy?" you meekly whispered, face turning hotter and hotter in that second.

Luffy smirked as his eyes snapped to meet yours.

"Still such a dirty girl!"

Lips parted as you released a gasp, face set on fire because - well, you weren't expecting him to say that again! The captain only let out a loud laugh at your flustered expression, and it only made your face heat up further.

"Oh, captain, please!"

Before you could even blink, Luffy's grip on your wrist tightened. He moved so quickly, leaning forward to grab you. Luffy lifted you, swiping his arm across the table to move any dishes out of the way. Immediately, your back was slammed against the table roughly, and your eyes clamped shut at the impact. When they opened, Luffy was on top of you. His hands on either side of your face, holding your wrists down. His knee parting your legs. He let out a small grunt and the corners of his lips curved upward into that loveable smile you adored so much.

"Sanji doesn't like wasting food, ya know!"

If Luffy hadn't spoken, you might have passed out right then and there from this compromising position.

"Well, I know that, but I need to… to…"

To fuck the captain's rubber ass.

Wait! Get it together!

You moved your face off to the side, biting your lower lip in frustration. Need to what? Go take a shower? You could never waste Sanji's food. Ignore the heat on your face? Too late for that. Ignore the heat in your lower stomach as Luffy shifted to press his lower body closer to yours? Ignore how damn hot he was? "I'm not done with my snack."

You froze, snapping your gaze back to him.

"So hold still, would ya?"

You breathed in sharply, and that was it. Your breath hitched in your throat at Luffy's tone. The low, seductive tone. It made your mind reel. He locked you in, and this is the moment where you regretted spoiling him so much. He knew! He knew you spoiled him immensely and you'd always be there for him. He knew you would never disobey, knew you'd practically do anything for him.

"Captain's orders." he smirked again, as if to make sure you heard.

Looking at your captain's lips, you breathed out huskily, "Yes, captain. Whatever you want, I'll do it."

There was that hungry look again. He grinned in response, "Good!"

Luffy moved like lightning. Another squeak came from your parted lips when his face went down to your collar bone, taking one lick from it (agonizing - yet tantalizingly slow) all the way up your neck right to behind your ear. Making sure not to miss a single inch of skin covered in frosting, the captain let go of your wrists to brush a stand of your hair out of the way. The man needed food, and damn it all if anything were to get in his way.

You mewled against his touch, instantly reaching to grab fistfuls of his opened shirt, doing everything in your power to not squirm because Luffy was being quite ticklish. Another squeak once Luffy's tongue stopped, and he decided it would be better to start sucking any cake left on your skin. It all felt so tingly under his touch, and though this was not really a true kiss - every spot his mouth landed on was like fire.

"Mm… Luffy-"

"I'm not done!"

Oh, thank goodness.

He smirked against your neck before moving down further, pressing his lips lightly to a enticingly low spot on your chest. He moved his mouth open, sucking off a small glob of frosting with a pop of his lips. He pulled away to prop himself up by the arms.

"Tastes even better like this!" he smiled widely, a slight blush at his face.

He was waiting for you to say something, yet you laid there with wide eyes. Did that just happen? Because… that totally just happened! Amidst the captain's laughter, somehow in this stunned stated you managed to move your hands to hold his face. His wonderful, wonderful face. Immediately, he froze to stare down at you. With your thumb, you gently brushed the side of his cheek with it, noticing how messy of an eater he was. Crumbs and frosting dusted his cheeks, his lips, almost anywhere on his face. It caused you to snicker, and Luffy blinked at this.

"Hold on, captain. You really are so messy!" you stroked his cheek again, "Come here."

This time, Luffy watched you with intense eyes. Softly, you pulled his face close with a lidded gaze. He was oddly silent and intenly focused on your movements. In this state, you realized your hands were trembling out of nervousness - but you wanted to try. Try getting a taste of him. You opened your mouth as you pressed your lips to Luffy's cheek, sucking off a small fraction of frosting in one fell swoop - and also, maybe just letting it linger in a tiny kiss as well. Once you were done, Luffy pulled back and cocked his head to the side as he seemed to be studying you. He broke out in a warm smile, and you returned it.

There was a pause.

"I like seeing you smile. I like being the reason it happens."

In one swift movement, Luffy was back at your chest to cause a gasp from your mouth and your fingers to clutch his raven locks when his hat fell forward from his head. Luffy really didn't skip a beat, especially when you heard him snicker against your skin again. You wished he would go lower on your breasts with his tongue - oh, please - but there wasn't as much of a mess there. Luffy promply worked his way back up, along your collar bone again and up your jawline, along your cheek until -

His mouth was very close to yours. A small amount of cake just barely touched the corner of your lips. Luffy leaned in to eat this one last bit, and you felt like you were doing backflips. It was just the smallest touch, ever so small, and if he had moved to his left anymore�� it could have been a kiss.

But Luffy pulled away.

In the blink of an eye, the sultry look he had was gone. He bore a huge smile and laughed while placing a hand on the back of his head. It seemed he was almost a little bashful, but it was hard to tell with someone as confident and straightforward as he.

"I really like being around you!"

His face was flushed, and yours matched.

"Let's do more of this!"

More? More of what!? The eating or the kissing? Your heart was racing. Before you could attempt to agree (as your mind was broken at the moment, and your heart leaped out of your chest and landed somewhere), he was out of his seat and placed a hand on the kitchen door.

Luffy turned to smirk at you, "Oh, and I'll remember that you said you'd do whatever I want!"

Spoiled.

Again, a rising heat took over your face. You wanted to speak, to ask him what he was takling about - but he was out the door. Luffy left you to wallow in your sexual frustration yet again.

What a tease.

Luffy had to have known what he was doing to you.

#one piece fanfiction #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #op fanfic #one piece x reader #luffy fanfic #please i poured my heart into this #oh my god i'm sorry for being so late with this #mugi writes

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columbosunday · 1 year

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i am a gluttonous king sitting at the end of a banquet table piled high with cds and vinyl and cassettes and i take a big bite out of a record and then lick the dust off my fingers and i unspool the cassette tape and twirl it up in my fork and take a big bite

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queen-dahlia · 5 months

Text

𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐦

"𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿"

not proofread

Note: Translation is not 100% accurate. Expect grammatical errors.

// : alternate translation

The final dinner of the year finally came to a close.

The main character is a gluttonous prince.

The dinner party, which began in the kitchen in the morning with an extraordinary amount of food, was a success,

Before we even get to the main course, there's a disconcerting turn of events一

Gilbert: "I'm hungry."

Clavis: "Lord Gilbert, what were you doing a few seconds ago?"

Gilbert: "I was eating the food that the little bunny had cooked for me."

Clavis: "And?"

Gilbert: "I'm hungry."

Licht: "It's abnormal."

Clavis: "It must have been absorbed into another space, not the stomach. Next time I'll refer you to a good doctor."

Gilbert: "Thanks for your concern."

Gilbert: "Waiter, bring me more food."

Licht: "It's impossible."

Clavis: "Emma is not a superhuman. She's working hard to finish a dish for you."

Gilbert: "You don't have to elaborate that much, though."

Gilbert: "In general, it's a terrible miscalculation not to have the little bunny at the dinner party."

Clavis: "You have us instead."

Gilbert: "Do you really think you can take the place of the little bunny?"

Licht: "I'm... offended by the way you said that."

Clavis: "Well, well, well. I'm just the entertainment guy for when the guests are bored. You're up, Yves, Luke."

Yves: "We've been playing this for a while now!?"

Luke: "Don't you hear the violin and the harpsichord? Listen."

Gilbert: "Thank you for your wonderful performance, but I got bored."

Yves & Luke: "Can I go back now?" | "Can I go now?"

Clavis: "Wait a minute, boys, it's not fair to expect Emma to take on this beast by herself..."

Clavis: "Besides, I've already set up traps to prevent you from escaping from this room."

Clavis: "If that's okay with you, you can go back. Hahaha!"

Luke: "Screw you."

Clavis: "But I am at a loss. Lord Gilbert seems to want other pleasures."

Clavis: "I have no choice. I guess this is my moment to show off."

Gilbert: "Oh, yeah!"

Clavis: "Can you at least hear me out?"

Gilbert: "I've got a good idea."

Luke: "I don’t think there’s any proof that your good ideas were good things." **

Yves: "Lord Gilbert, where are you going?"

Gilbert: "Of course, I'll go to the little bunny."

══════════════════

Emma: "一So, what brings you all to the kitchen?"

Emma: "And as for Prince Gilbert, he had a knife and fork in his hand."

Licht: "I don't suppose you're going to... eat every last bit of the finished product?"

Gilbert: "Correct."

Licht: "That's gruesome." // "That's pungent." **

Gilbert: "If we eat here, the waiters won't have to carry the food, and you can watch the little bunny, right?"

Gilbert: "It's good for everyone."

Yves: "The pressure on Emma is not half as great as it should be..."

Gilbert: "I'm surprised so many of them haven't been brought in yet."

Emma: "It's not ready yet! All the seasoning and decorations are incomplete一"

Gilbert: "Well, I'll have some."

Emma: "Aaaahh!? Seriously, Prince Gilbert, don't eat it!"

Clavis: "It's not good. If the Appetite Monster comes into its own, all the food and ingredients in this place will be lost."

Emma: "Please, please stop!"

Licht: "I get it."

Yves: "Whoaaaaah! Licht, don't pull out your sword! Your big brother won't allow you to stop him like that!"

Luke: "Then I'll hit him一"

Yves: "Are you crazy? We're dealing with a prince of a great nation! There's going to be a war!"

Clavis: "Well, then, I guess my一"

Emma: "Please don't do that!"

Clavis: "… Why can't people just let me say it all?"

Gilbert: "Mmm... it's delicious."

Emma: "Prince Gilbert... that's not… in good taste."

Emma: "... I've made it this far, but it's terrible."

Yves: "Emma... I know how you feel. The pain of having a delicious meal ruined in the process..."

Yves: "I get screwed over by Jin and Leon from time to time, so I know what it's like."

Licht: "… That's right."

Luke: "To see Emma so devastated and you keep eating, that's not human behavior."

Clavis: "He's a monster."

Luke: "… All right, Clavis, Licht. Gather all the ingredients in the kitchen."

Licht: "Why?"

Luke: "While you stall for time with the ingredients, Yves and I will help Emma finish up."

Luke: "Otherwise, Emma will go through the year with a lot of regret."

Emma: "Luke…"

Yves: "I agree. It's too early to give up!"

Licht: "Understood. Let’s do it, Clavis."

Clavis: "I agree. We need to get rid of the monster and bring in a happy new year for everyone."

Luke: "Hey, I brought you some food."

Luke: "You should be thankful that I put a bear and honey on the base that Emma was building." // "You should be grateful that I put the bear and the honeycomb on the foundation that Emma was building."

Gilbert: "Yes, yes, thank you."

Clavis: "Phew, I got one for you too."

Yves: "Hey, isn't Clavis in charge of the ingredients?"

Clavis: "I'm not going to be able to do everything I'm capable of if I'm just carrying food."

Clavis: "So I decided to switch to helping Emma in the middle of the process."

Licht: "… Unnecessary." **

Clavis: "Look at this adorable tiger, Emma was working on it, and I finished it?" // "Look at this adorable tiger! I finished what Emma was partially working on?"

Emma: "Ah! When did you...?"

Yves: "Is there something hanging out of that tiger's mouth?"

Clavis: "It's a delicious sauce."

Licht: "What's that stuck in its head?"

Clavis: "It's just a decoration."

Licht: "… With a high murderous intent…"

Gilbert: "Leave it for me, I'll eat it later."

Yves: "… I honestly respect Lord Gilbert for not being intimidated by the food arranged by Clavis."

Gilbert: "And by the way, little bunny, you really are a genius."

Gilbert: "The food here is good, and it's cute."

Gilbert: "Hey, how would you like to be my personal chef? I'll give you a great deal at Obsidian."

Emma: "I am honored, but I must decline."

Gilbert: "Too bad."

Gilbert: "It looks like I failed to recruit you, so let's have this little rabbit here heal me."

Emma: "Eh."

Gilbert: "Sugar Candy Story."

Luke: "It's confusing."

Gilbert: "Hehe… This little rabbit looks delicious."

Gilbert: "I'll taste every bit of it, chew it up so it won't go anywhere, and keep it in my stomach to cherish for a long time一"

Luke: "… Don't say anything meaningful. Emma's pulling back." // "… Don't say anything meaningful. I think Emma is the one who pulled it off."

Emma: "I'm not pulling away. It just hurts to imagine…"

Clavis: "Lord Gilbert, this tiger cake is delicious, too. Come on, it's time for cannibalism."

the cake with spicy sauce

Yves: "… Clavis wants to feed you whatever he wants."

Licht: "I don't care if Lord Gilbert eats it."

Gilbert: "By the way, I like it spicy and sweet."

Clavis: "What…"

Gilbert: "I'll taste it for you."

Emma: "Ah!"

Luke: "What's up?"

Emma: "Now... Now all the dishes are done!"

Luke: "Oh, you did great, Emma."

Licht: "Somehow we managed to stop the monster."

Yves: "Licht, you're dealing with a guest of honor, right?"

Clavis: "Then we'll carry it out of the kitchen."

Gilbert: "Well, I don't mind if I stay."

Luke: "It's only natural that you respect the food Emma made."

Luke: "It's not something you can eat in the kitchen."

Luke: "You move, or I'll carry you. Or do you want me to carry you?"

Gilbert: "… I used to be the one carrying you."

Luke: "Shut up." // "It’s so noisy."

Gilbert: "Luke has a point. Fine, I'll take you back to the venue."

Emma: "… Hehe."

Yves: "What's wrong?"

Emma: "I thought it would be more fun to do the preparation together than to do it alone."

Clavis: "Haha, of course. Good thing you sent me a distress signal early, huh?"

Emma: "That's not the only thing."

Clavis: "Oops, that smile is so sweet..."

Gilbert: "If the little bunny laughed like that, then I guess I was right to get into the kitchen." // "If the little bunny smiled, then I made the right decision to get into the kitchen."

Luke: "… You're just talking about consequences, aren't you?"

Licht: "The dinner is just the beginning."

Emma: "I agree."

Emma: "Let's end this year with a smile!"

#サイバード #イケメン王子 #ギルベルト=フォン=オブシディアン #ikemen prince #ikemen prince gilbert von obsidian #ikemen prince gilbert #ikeprince #ikeprince gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikeprince jp #ikepri jp #ikeprince translation #ikemen prince spoilers #ikeprince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #dahlia's bad translation

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eldritch-spouse · 27 days

Note

Having dinner with Cero would stress me out so badly because there would be a million table manner rules to follow, and he'd probably swat my hands a lot if I grabbed the wrong fork or eat too fast.

Fortunately, he has absolutely no expectations when you first sit at the table with him. Short of dropping your head into the plate and throwing food everywhere, you can't really drop his standards any lower.

You will get actual lessons in what he considers to be the proper table etiquette, which you may find is a bit different from some surface etiquette because he's really finicky about one or two details. Nevertheless, Cero is looking at you while you eat and will bat your hand should you select the wrong utensils, yes.

The servants will also mercifully remind you of the order in which cutlery is picked, sometimes going as far as to gesture frantically in the background to avoid you being chastised. This level of painfully needless pomp is the reason Rieba loathes having to attend a dinner party with her King. Even if she's surrounded by gluttons stuffing their faces, she has to hold the fork like a pretentious asswipe and slice everything into baby-sized pieces before "politely chewing".

#Cero oc #Rieba oc

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thecreaturecodex · 1 month

Text

Xiangliu

Image © deviantArt user YunaXD, accessed at her gallery here

[Sponsored by @coldbloodassassin. The xiangliu appears in Guideways through Mountains and Seas as an individual, Xiangliu, who is the minister of the malevolent water god Gonggong. I did consider making it a native or even extraplanar outsider because of that, but ended up going with aberration to stress its connection to nagas. Not that nagas are very aberrant as far as aberrations go...]

Xiangliu CR 14 NE Aberration This creature is an oversized serpent with nine heads and slime coating its scales. Its heads are disturbingly humanoid, but still bear fangs and forked tongues.

Xianglius are sadistic water serpents that delight in spreading disease and stagnant water. They are native to swampy lands, and fight violently against any attempt to drain such swamps or make them suitable for cultivation. Nearby fields are likely to be subject to their attacks, including flooded crops, summoned clouds of malarial mosquitoes and fouling wells and springs. Xianglius sometimes find allegiances with evil druids, daemons of pestilence and famine, or even gods of water who are hostile to civilization.

A xiangliu rarely hesitates to fight. Their bites are not fully venomous, but carry a foul slime that renders creatures bitten weak and queasy. They can spit jets of water with lethal force, and often split their attacks, biting creatures up close while barraging enemies that are more distant. Fighting a xiangliu is often quite frustrating, as the monsters create moats of mud and water to slow anyone approaching on foot, and can manipulate water to isolate and capsize boats. Wise adventurers approach a xiangliu’s lair from the air.

Despite their nine heads, a xiangliu has only one personality; peevish, cruel and sadistic. They are notorious gluttons; one legend is that they have nine heads in order to eat nine different meals at the same time. A xiangliu grows to about twenty feet long. Their lifespans are measured in centuries.

Xiangliu CR 14 XP 38,400 NE Large aberration (aquatic) Init +6; Senses all around vision,darkvision 60 ft., Perception +22, scent

Defense AC 29, touch 15, flat-footed 23 (-1 size, +6 Dex, +14 natural) hp 190 (20d8+100) Fort +13, Ref +15, Will +16 DR 10/magic; Immune acid, disease, poison, sickness and nausea effects; SR 25

Offense Speed 30 ft., swim 40 ft. Melee 9 bites +20 (1d6+4 plus sickening slime) Ranged 9 water jets +20 (1d8 bludgeoning plus push) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks combined arms, mud wave, push (5 ft.) Spell-like Abilities CL 15th, concentration +20 (+24 casting defensively) At will—contagion (DC 18), putrefy food and drink 3/day—control water, insect plague 1/day—plague storm (DC 21), transmute rock to mud

Statistics Str 19, Dex 23, Con 20, Int 18, Wis 19, Cha 20 Base Atk +15; CMB +20; CMD 36 (cannot be tripped) Feats Blind Fight,Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes (B),Deadly Aim, Great Fortitude, Improved Critical (bite), Lightning Reflexes, Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Skill Focus (Stealth), Weapon Finesse Skills Acrobatics +22, Climb +20, Heal +18, Intimidate +21, Knowledge (arcana, geography) +18, Knowledge (nature) +20, Perception +22, Sense Motive +17, Spellcraft +20, Stealth +24, Swim +28; Racial Modifiers +2 Perception Languages Aquan, Common, Draconic SQ amphibious, improved swamp stride, multiheaded reflexes

Ecology Environment any swamps and aquatic Organization solitary Treasure standard

Special Abilities Combined Arms (Ex) When using a full attack action, a xiangliu can divide its nine attacks up between bites and water jets. Improved Swamp Stride (Su) A xiangliu can move without penalty through natural or magically manipulated mud, water, or vegetation native to swamp environments. Insect Plague (Sp) When a xiangliu uses its insect plague spell-like ability, it summons mosquito swarms instead of wasp swarms. Mud Wave (Su) As a standard action, a xiangliu can create a burst of mud and water in a twenty foot radius centered on itself. All creatures in the area take 14d6 points of bludgeoning damage and are knocked prone. A DC 25 Reflex save halves the damage and negates the prone effect. The area affected by the mud wave becomes difficult terrain for the next minute. A xiangliu can use this ability three times per day, but must wait 1d4 rounds between uses. The save DC is Charisma based. Multiheaded Reflexes (Ex) A xiangliu gains Combat Reflexes as a bonus feat. It can make as many attacks of opportunity in a round as it has heads. Sickening Slime (Ex) A creature bitten by a xiangliu must succeed a DC 25 Fortitude save or be sickened for 1 round. Failing additional saves increases the duration of the sickened effect by 1 round per save failed. The save DC is Constitution based. Water Jet (Su) A xiangliu can spit water from one of its mouths as a standard action, and up to all nine as a full attack. Treat each water jet as a ranged attack from a projectile weapon with a range increment of 20 feet. Attacks with water jets do not provoke attacks of opportunity. A creature struck by a water jet takes 1d8 points of bludgeoning damage and is exposed to the xiangliu’s push attack.

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obae-me · 4 months

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Upside Down- CH 13

Warning: Vivid descriptions of nausea and sickness, alcohol, swearing. As Always, Read Safely.

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Eat Me

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There were many things you had seen throughout your long life. Not much caught you by surprise anymore. However, this… what was a good word for it? Atrocity? Monstrosity? An amalgamation of vile sponge sent from the very depths of the darkest parts of the realms? Summoned forth by the most forbidden rituals in an attempt to taint your soul and flood your blood with the whispers of contemptible desires?

It wasn’t just a cake, that was for certain.

No. It was a curse covered in frosting. And it dug up a primordial and raw panic in you.

The first bite had been fine. In hindsight, it was probably your senses frozen in shock. Some form of survival instinct unlocked to protect you. It was rather tasteless. The texture was all off, somehow crumbly and yet…almost slimy at the same time. It went down rough, as if your body was doing everything it could to prevent it from heading down into your stomach. A tingling was left in your throat, and by the time you had taken your third bite, something rotten inside you was burning. You covered your mouth with your hand, setting down your fork and taking several minutes trying to get to the bottom of how this dessert was so…awful. So many conflicting senses sent your mind swirling. While you weren’t exactly a gourmand, you could tell that Infernal, Mortal, and Holy ingredients were used. Each profile conflicted the other, and quite like the people of each realm themselves, they were fighting to stand on their own. Rather than blend together smoothly to create a robust experience, it tasted as if you had taken a bite of several different meals and chowed down on them at the same time. Fighting each other even culinarily… You would almost be tempted to sit back and think of it poetically if it wasn’t seconds away from coming back up and defiling these graves.

The human beside you mindlessly took more of the cake and swallowed several more bites. Fascination and horror roused within you. It seemed that rather than tasting it, Beel was swallowing the chunks whole, more focused on filling up his stomach than savoring the treat. If you could even call it such a thing. But eventually, he came to his senses, reaching the same conclusion you did, setting down his fork and giving you an awkward side glance. He cleared his throat and searched his mind for the proper words to give. “This is…uh…” He hesitated to even lick his lips for fear of picking up more remnant of the taste.

“Horrible,” you finished for him.

Beel’s face turned apologetic. “I appreciate you taking the time to…make this—“

The words nearly broke you out in a cold sweat. It’s not that you felt you needed to upkeep your reputation for a human, but there was no way on the devil’s scorched earth that you were going to be associated with this dining disaster. “No!” The desperation to your own voice caught you off guard. “I mean, I didn’t make it. A…” You would say acquaintance, even coworker, but now you were wondering if Solomon was in fact an enemy. Olive branch, he said. More like declaration of war. An assassination attempt. Did he do this on purpose to make you look bad in front of the humans you were supposed to protect? Was there some secret message behind the venom inside the cream? “Someone I know made it… I…” Why were you suddenly so flustered? So embarrassed? You were a demon for sin’s sake! You could simply kill a human for looking at you with a crooked eye! Yet, it was probably because of the way this Morningstar was looking at you that had you so thrown off. Like he was appreciative of the cake even though it was perhaps the most inedible thing he had ever held in his hands. Like he would keep eating it if you asked him to, his fingers already brushing against the utensil like he was waiting for your approval. Was he really so gluttonous as to be ready to eat even if it made him sick, even if it killed him? Why? To please you? No, it didn’t quite seem like that. He was kind, yes, but he wasn’t a doormat. Something in him was starving. Something past his mouth, past his stomach, settled all the way into the depths of his soul was clawing at him from the inside. You knew this sensation too. This emptiness.

Guilt.

Hopelessness.

Loss.

The food he was eating was another distraction. Just like Mammon’s shimmering trinkets and Levi’s flashing lights, Beel allowed himself to get absorbed in his own form of self comfort. Each brother seemed to be engulfed in their own little world, swallowed up by their sin and just barely keeping their head afloat. These humans were all drowning, one hand outstretched, waiting for someone to pull them to safety…

You reached over and closed the lid to the take-out box, half tempted to set it ablaze to ensure it would be purified to ashes. However, aside from the fact that it might cause the human to panic, you had to wonder what sort of dangers the toxins in the air would cause… You’d have to dispose of it cleverly. Perhaps manage to open a rift into outer darkness and chuck it where even the fates couldn’t reach. You stood up.

“You don’t have to throw it away.” Beel reached out, almost appearing a bit panicked. This surprised you. You had assumed that this behavior was caused by the death of his sister, but suddenly you had the sense that this was a deep-seeded issue, something that had been with him for a while, exacerbated with Lilith’s passing. The human managed to read your confusion, shifting uncomfortably as he could feel your analyzing thoughts. “I don’t like anything to go to waste,” he explained. “I don’t remember too much of my life before Lucifer brought me home, but…” Beel searched for the words, the memories painful, but still managing to smile. “Every crumb is precious to me. You never know how long it’ll be before you can eat again.”

There was a stirring inside you, and not just the concoction in your stomach. You turned your head up, trying to look past the pollution to see the stars. Something about his sad words poked at old memories. Faded messages from someone your soul refused to forget. What was it they used to say?

“Every second is precious to me. You never know when it will be your last.”

Humans were so fragile. And yet, somehow they continued to thrive. Through war and despair and starvation and destruction they struggle and fight to survive. Even if doing so only adds mere seconds to their lives, they will spill blood to claim those last few seconds.

Greedy things.

Had they fought for more precious seconds right before the end?…

You snapped yourself out of your daze. “Trust me, you’re not wasting anything by not eating this.” The box tucked under your arm, your other hand grabbing Beel’s outstretched hand to help him up. “The sun will be rising soon, we should probably get back before people start waking up.”

A surprising warmth flooded your body as Beel’s hand slipped into yours. He got to his feet before his touch dropped from yours, hurrying back into the pockets of his jacket. He looked down at Lilith’s grave and nodded. “Talk to you soon… I’ll bring Belphie with me next time, I promise.” Silence lingered over the graveyard for moment before he gestured for you to follow him. “We can get out this way.”

The human walked a few steps away from you, your own feet prepared to follow before a faint whisper echoed behind you. It was quiet, so much so, you almost convinced yourself it had been the wind. But even so, the familiar tone to the voice immediately brought tears to your eyes. You turned, almost calling out an old name before the sensation you felt faded. Your hand pressed over a panging in your chest, an old wound that tempted to tear back open. Before you could think anything of it, you brushed it aside as you hearing things. Madness. Auditory hallucinations probably brought about by the unknown ingredients in the cake Solomon made. You had been thinking about them a lot more than usual lately, and now your mind was conjuring up things. That was all. You glanced down at Lilith’s grave.

It was strangely peaceful here.

“Something wrong?”

You turned your head back at Beel before shaking it. “Just hearing things.” In a few steps, you were at his side. As you stood directly next to him, you couldn’t help but stare at him. Something felt…off, but you couldn’t quite discern what it was. A certain detail was different enough for you to notice, but not obvious enough to place. Like how you can tell someone had disturbed a room you’d walked into, but not being able to figure out what had been touched.

Where most people might’ve been off-put by your staring, he simply held your gaze, raising an eyebrow. The longer you looked, the more a little blush seemed to form on his cheeks. He rubbed at the corner of his lips and found a stray dab of frosting, wiping it away on his pants. “Did I get it?” He asked, assuming he’d discovered what you were observing. Letting it go for the time being, you nodded, but something was still bothering you.

The human began to lead you towards the direction you both had come in. Unlike his other two brothers you’d made pacts with, either he wasn’t the particularly curious type, or he knew when to keep questions to himself. He didn’t bother prodding further on how you’d found him or how you knew how to sneak inside or even how you knew he left. He was only focused on getting you two out of there. Near the inside of the fence was a little bush, Beel headed towards it and pulled out a green plastic milk crate. He pushed it towards the perimeter and stood on top of it, bending his knees a little and waving you over. “Here, I’ll help you over.” He laced his hands together and again encouraged you to get closer to him.

It wouldn’t do to simply jump over like usual. So, playing along like a proper human, you placed your foot in his palms. He held you carefully, raising you up and letting you kneel on his shoulders. All the while worrying over you to be careful. You pretended to struggle pulling yourself over, entertaining yourself as you hit the ground on the other side. Beel rushed over, leaping over in such a frenzy, his jacket sleeve tore a little on one of the metal pickets. He nearly fully scooped you up off the ground, picking you up by the small of your back and settling you back on your feet.

“Are you okay?” He worried over you, and while you didn’t particularly care for humans, the attention had the end of your hidden tail twitch. You touched at the fabric of his sleeve with a little frown, wondering if you had taken your act a little too far. Even as you were fiddling with it, he didn’t fret over it. “You’re not hurt or anything?”

“I’m alright,” you responded bluntly, walking a bit down the sidewalk. You approached a public bin and promptly threw the box containing the cake away. You heard Beel strut up behind you, moaning a bit at even just the thought of what it tasted like. “I need to go home and eat something to get rid of that flavor… I should still have that pudding left.” He began to go on a little ramble, daydreaming about different treats. The mood seemed to brighten as he went over his list of snacks he would be consuming as soon as he got his hands on them. His feet began moving as his mind trailed away. Then he stopped, looking over his shoulder at you. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Actually…” You looked down the opposite direction, down the street. “There’s something I’m going to check on first.”

“Oh. Alright. Be safe, okay? Weird things have been happening at night lately. Lucifer keeps pestering us to stay inside. And then of course, he stays out himself…” While almost everyone mentioned their older brother with a bit of anger, Beel only harbored concern and admiration when he spoke of Lucifer. Rather than getting hung up on his older brother again, he moved on from the subject. “Thanks for checking on me… You’re pretty nice. I see why Mammon and Levi like you. See you later.” Without another word, he turned away from you, walking along the streets that would take him back to the house. You stood in place and waited till his frame dissipated in the darkness.

A sigh left your lungs. Your stomach rumbled in a little bit of pain.

“Lucifer…”

Even from the sidewalk across the street from the building, you could pinpoint the window to Lucifer’s office. The light was faint, but still active nonetheless. With a slight roll to your eyes, you approached the front doors, grasping the long and golden vertical handle. It rattled. Locked. With a huff, you took a step back. Of course this was just a waste of time. Why did you think coming here was a good idea anyway? Was it the look on Beel’s worried face? Were you so easily persuaded by a human you had hardly come to know? A swift turn of your feet had you pointing in the direction where you had just come from. But something stopped you. Not quite a voice like before, but like a guided thought, one that didn’t quite feel like your own. It sent a shiver down your spine, bringing about the sensation of deja vu, the same phenomenon you felt earlier just as you were leaving the graveyard. A series of emotions that you roughly translated.

Check on him, please.

A heavy growl left your lungs as you rounded the building to try to find access in through the back. A ripple crossed over your body, shielding your body from view, feeling the comfort that came from not being perceived. You couldn’t stay here for long. You already made a promise to your pact-mates and Simeon that you’d conserve your magic where you could. Even now you were almost trudging your feet, worn out. As you rounded the corner of the structure, you suddenly froze. Magic that was not your own flooded the alley. It was strong, every weave working to repel you from this place. If it weren’t for Solomon’s charm, you might’ve even been pushed all the way back down to the Devildom. It zapped your strength, stirring the remains of the poison in your stomach.

Just across the way from you, leaving the alley from the opposite direction, was a tall man. The source of the magic rang out from his aura, the remains of a spell twinkling off his hands. Was it him? Was he the one going around and protecting this place? Was he the one guarding the Morningstar home as well? Why? Even with the coat across his shoulders, you could tell his build was wide and statuesque. Striking red hair swayed in the breeze and caught the rays of the peeking sunrise, making his presence blaze for a single moment before he turned out of view and sauntered off. You raised an eyebrow, tempted to follow, but giving up on that desire rather quickly. You’d stalked enough human men today. Still… who was he?

The spell hummed in your ears, refusing to leave anytime soon, almost convincing you to give up on Lucifer entirely. But with a silent grumble, you stepped further in to check the back door. Unsurprisingly, it was also locked, but you expected as much. It would simply be easier to break in from here. Rather than use a key like normal people, it seemed that these little number-pads were the way to grant access around here. A quiet demonic spell was chanted in the base of your throat, sparks dancing between your fingertips. You pressed your hand against the numbers and listened to the internal mechanism fry. It chirped as it died and glared at you with a little red eye. For a moment, you wondered if you’d have to resort to breaking in the door or a window. But then just before your hopes of destruction got too high, the eye turned green as you heard a click. You put the brick back down. Whoever put that stupid warding magic here didn’t think everything all the way through, did they?

You smugly entered the building, wandering through the back room and out into the main lobby. You paced around for a little while until you found the metal plating that you recently learned was called an elevator. Humans found the strangest ways to make things easier for them. Normally you’d avoid the flimsy metal box, but part of it fascinated you. You tapped at the buttons and had to restrain yourself from eagerly hitting all of them just to watch them light up and make a satisfying bing. The doors opened and you stepped inside, selecting the floor you knew Lucifer’s office was located.

As the elevator lurched upward, so did your stomach. Everything seemed to swirl around you for a few agonizing seconds, some sort of motion sickness overtaking your senses. The base of your throat clenched as you worked to keep yourself sick. Every muscle in your body tensed. You focused entirely on keeping yourself hidden. The doors opened, the movement stopped, but the sensation didn’t. You crawled your way out of the elevator, trying not to gasp in pain. Working on your breathing, fighting against your own body to settle down.

That cake was doing something to you…

The current wave of sickness passed, a faint tingling sparking through your body. You shuffled your way up to your feet, holding onto the end of some random desk.

The office was empty. Almost every light turned off except for a few. Lucifer’s office was illuminated. His door was wide open…

Panic. Anxiety. You hobbled forward, doing your best to stay silent as you sprinted towards his office door. There had been something odd about the whole thing. You should’ve followed your gut. Maybe that other human had done something. Maybe they weren’t being protected at all… Maybe something had happened. Was he—

As you burst silently into the room, you had to cover your mouth to hold in your breath. The eldest Morningstar was face-down on his desk, hand limply holding a pen. The screen of his computer was still lit up, in the middle of some project. No. No, no, no… You approached his body with a tight chest, imagining the look on his brother’s faces if you had to come home with bad news. Imagining the reprimand you’d get from Simeon once he found out the human had been harmed. Your adventure was over just as you felt like it was starting. You didn’t smell any blood, and you didn’t sense any other magic aside from the human’s from earlier. Careful fingers touched the side of his neck.

Lucifer’s head shot up.

Instinct kicked in before you could stop yourself. Luckily, instead of tearing him to shreds, you simply pushed him, sending him out of his chair and onto the floor. He groaned sleepily, sitting up and grasping the sides of his head. Clearly he was dazed and confused…and perhaps a bit hungover. The smell of human alcohol was now clear.

He had simply passed out.

Your teeth gritted, hands held in front of you in a choking motion, imagining yourself fully throttling him by his scrawny little neck for getting you…unnaturally…perturbed. Then you covered your face, exasperated at yourself for getting so caught up in random emotions.

Lucifer reached up to press his palm against his desktop, clearly exerting himself trying to stand.

It would be…so easy to push him over right now.

You were ready to do it, only two seconds away from sweeping his leg before you heard some sort of shuddering gasp as he settled himself on his feet. The eldest of humans, the biggest pain in the tail you’d come to meet, the man you wouldn’t even want to talk to in your dreams… was on the verge of tears. You took a single step back to observe him slumping back into his office chair, rasping out a curse, looking at his phone and the time and his work before leaning forward and placing his face in his hands.

Now you simply felt…maybe a small bit of repentance. Guilty for being so tempted to quite literally kick a man while he was down. Turning your head to avoid looking at him, you took the steps to walk back out of his office. Past the receptionist’s desk and around the corner of the cubicles, you had remembered seeing a small nook that resembled a mini kitchen; cabinets and a fridge and whatnot. You headed off in that direction and began to rifle through a few things. It didn’t take you too long before you found an empty paper cup. One jaunt over to the nearby water dispenser, and you snuck back towards the office.

Lucifer was in the same position as before, and it was difficult for you to tell if he was crying or simply processing his inebriated thoughts. While his eyes were covered, you settled the cup of water down beside the empty shot-glass. You were really pushing your luck with this, but… you were entitled to do something after pushing him over. This was just making up for that. You didn’t want to owe anything to Lucifer. Now you were even.

Spotting the couch again, you sat down, leaning back and keeping yourself from sighing as you looked out the window.

Great. Now you could relate to this asshole. How infuriating.

“Hm?” Half-lidded eyes finally were free from his hands as he noticed the paper cup before him. Befuddled, he picked it up and smelled it, probably wondering if he’d poured himself another shot. The way he arched his eyebrow almost had you chuckling. “When did I…?” He was clearly quite perplexed. Although, after rubbing his eyes and his forehead for several minutes, he somehow came to the conclusion that he’d gotten it himself. He downed the water quickly with a groan, staring at his computer screen. Any normal being at this point would quit for the day, finding some way to hobble home. This…muddle of a man left you stupefied as he defied all reason, ignored all good sense as he stood, rubbing the back of his head, clearly ready to get back to work. “I need more coffee…”

As he left his office, staggering as he tipped left and right, you kept yourself from scoffing. You had to be kidding. What kind of idiotic, self-sabotaging, prideful moron would go so far as to isolate himself and—

Wait.

No. No this was not the same! Not the same thing. He was a human, it was different! This wasn’t about pride, this was about… something totally unrelated! You and Lucifer were so far from each other, you… you…

You couldn’t think of a proper dispute for yourself.

Maybe it was true… Maybe you were alike, in some aspects. Pushing others away to save face, only to hurt yourself in the process. Pushing yourself to the brink of death just to…to what, prove a point?

What was it you were trying to prove anymore?… You couldn't remember...

Lucifer seemed fine. Well, alive and walking at least. Safe for the moment. You stood up once more, satisfied and frustrated with the events that had just taken place. All you’d come out here for was to show the little voice in the back of your head that the human was unharmed. Now you’d just… go back home— to the home. The Morningstar home. Not your home. Your home was in the Devildom.

Oof. Your thoughts were getting all sorts of jumbled, weren’t they? Sweat started to bead down your forehead. The droplets were cold. Too cold. Like you were much too hot… That was weird.

An intense cramp ran through your entire body, your muscles seized up, your frame crumpling to the floor. For a moment you writhed, reaching out to pull yourself forward, but missing the furniture. It squeaked harshly as you ended up pushing it away from you instead. Panting, gasping, you nearly left claw marks in the flooring as you grasped it again, pulling yourself up to your knees.

The noise alerted the human approaching the office, coming back in as adrenaline rushed through his veins. You could only pray he didn’t see you. Covering your mouth, you held back a scream as another throb forced your vision to go blurry.

Don’t…get…found out…

Crawling behind the shelter of the couch, you forced the sick to stay in your body.

“Who’s there?!”

Hide…Hide away from it all…Then you won’t…

…

A messed up swirl of colors crossed your vision. You reached out a hand and rolled over onto your stomach before collapsing again. By the next time you opened your eyes, even if it felt like only a second, you could tell time had passed. It was a bit brighter now, although wherever you were was still blanketed by shade. Every limb in your body felt weak. Fully opening your eyelids might as well have been like asking you to climb from the lower ring of hell all the way to the tallest tier in heaven in under seven minutes. It took several more attempts before you could press your hands to your head. It took even longer to finally sit up.

You felt like death. Which was rather hilarious considering just the other day you had nearly actually died. Whatever this was felt worse. Every breath you took made you queasy. For too many minutes, you assumed you were back in the Devildom, waking up to the worst hangover you’d had in your vast life. But then the memories slowly started to trickle in. Although there was a very clear black spot in your memory. The last thing you remembered, you had snuck into Lucifer’s office. And now you were… Where were you exactly? Everything was a blur. Blinking didn’t exactly clear up your vision.

This didn’t look like an office. Didn’t look like anywhere…

A long roof covered your head, but this room had no walls, letting light from the outside flood in at all sides. A pergola of some kind? There was no furniture in this place either, just clear floor in all directions around you. Odd. Your limbs fumbled around for a while, struggling to stand up, and once you were on the flats of your feet, it was even harder to stand straight. Slowly, you carefully wobbled your way towards one of the open entrances to try and figure out just where in the three realms you ended up in.

Light flashed across your eyes as you stepped out of the shade. A headache throbbed through your temples as you blinked spots away. Looking in front of you, you saw a field of tall grey grass. Wait… grey grass? Were you seeing things? Looking up you noticed a… white not-so-blue sky. In fact, it looked more like a high ceiling. And a ways away on the other side of the field was a dark brown, almost black building settled next to a giant oddly shaped mountain, that sort of resembled a—

Oh… Oh no. Saints and Sinners alike, say it wasn’t so. No!

A hand clasped over your lips as you stumbled back into the dark, losing your balance and falling to the floor. Both panic and shaky legs kept you from standing up quite yet. You remained hidden in the shadows of the cover overhead, peering out into the open space with clenched teeth. This was a dream. A horrid nightmare in fact. It had been several ancient years since you ever remembered having something akin to a nightmare, but this had to be one of them. A cold chill covered every inch of your skin. You felt clammy. Nauseated. Unable to breathe. Calm, you had to tell yourself. If you freak out too much, you will be sick.

Sick. Right! You had been poisoned. Did he— Did that—

Did Solomon’s messed up cake shrink you?!

Dread began to swirl with anger. When you… When you managed to get your hands on that pesky little angel, you would— Not the time. You could fantasize fondly about that later. Right now, you had to fix this. But… how? How would you undo this? This didn’t feel like any regular hex that an enchantment would reverse. If you had ingested this… it stood to reason you needed an antidote. Wait! Beel… Beel had consumed the cake too… Was he in the same position as you? If he was, he was probably freaking out right now. Had he made it home?! Or was he now outside, completely vulnerable. Bite sized for whatever demon wanted a Morningstar snack… Or what if it did something worse to him? He was only a human after all… What if he… You tugged at your hair a bit as your tail thrashed behind you.

This was bad. Really bad. Truly and utterly terrible.

Order of operations… To find Beel, you needed an antidote. To get an antidote, you needed to get ahold of Simeon or Solomon. You felt around your clothes, feeling your pockets for your phone. Nothing. It seemed whatever magic was at play here kept you clothed, but didn’t shrink your phone with you…Solomon’s charm was still there too. You wouldn’t question how that worked. Don’t think too deeply into how magic works. Just don’t. Please. It would be a waste of energy you couldn’t afford to lose. If this was still Lucifer’s office, and you collapsed in here, your device should still be somewhere here…

Walking forward tepidly, you peeked out from the cover that you’d come to the devastating conclusion was the underside of the couch. If you had to guess, right now you were probably no bigger than the average index finger… Lucifer was no longer at his desk. His office door closed. However, the glow from the monitor was still on, and his black leather business bag was still slumped against the floor. He was still in the building somewhere, which meant you had to be careful. For, as much as you were trying, you couldn’t cloak right now… Or hide your demon form. If someone caught you…if someone caught Beel… As your pact mates would say it: Game Over.

You rushed out from under the couch to scan the office for your phone. You checked the rug, against the walls, by the window, under the desk, but nothing. Lucifer must’ve found it… Now you’d have to try to answer how your phone wound up in his office… and hells, the couch! He’d seen it move! What if he connected your phone to… First you’d have to worry about finding Beel and getting back to normal. If you had no way to contact the others, you’d have to figure out how to get home. If you could get back to Mammon and Levi, they could contact Simeon or Solomon for you, and then the hunt for Beel could start. But how would you make it all the way back to the house?…

There was only one clear solution to that. Lucifer.

If you could tuck yourself into his work bag, you could probably escape undetected. But you couldn’t just wait around for him to decide to go home, not when Beel’s life was at stake! You would have to figure out a way to send Lucifer home now. But how?…

Pacing around back and forth only served to make you dizzy. You leaned heavily against one of the couch’s legs. Get him to stop working…get him to stop work… Wait, work! His work! Destroy his addiction! Can’t keep working if there’s no work to work on! You would stop saying work now.

Jogging over to his desk, you spotted a single long black cord poking through a little hole in the wood. The lifeline of the computer. Controlled by more feral thoughts than usual, you ran over to it and sunk your teeth into it, tugging till the cord snapped. A fierce jolt ran through your body as the electricity sparked for a moment, but then you shook it off. Stepping out from under the desk and looking up, you noticed the monitor had gone black. Perfect.

The door latch clicked.

Scrambling, you bolted towards Lucifer’s bag. You wriggled yourself under the leather flap only to discover it was mostly decorative. The bag itself was still closed with a zipper. But for the moment you were hidden, working hard to keep your horns from puncturing through the thing.

You heard the door fully open as the familiar click of Lucifer’s steady cadence struck the ground. “…and all I need to do is plug it into the computer?” His voice held firm, not like he had sounded when you found him blacked out at his desk. Vibrations ran through your body as he stepped closer and sat at his desk. Frantic tapping at his keyboard could be heard before he held back a curse. His fist hit the desk. “It’s not working, it’s… Hold on. You’ve got to be kidding me…” He must’ve discovered your little act of sabotage.

All the while, you had found the tag to the zipper, both hands clutched around it as you slowly pulled it back, making no noise. Once an opening was large enough for you to slip through- which in this scenario, wasn’t very much- you tucked yourself inside. It was rather packed in here…not only did you have to worry about getting discovered, but now you were worried about being squashed between thick binders and files and who knows what else. You tried to hole yourself inside a pocket to keep yourself out of view. And now you could only blasphemously pray to not be found. If angels were listening to your pleas, you hoped that cursed cherub was listening to every personal thought and comment you had to say about this predicament. Maybe if you thought hard enough, his ears would burn off.

“The computer…it’s fine, I can access it at home.”

Yes!

“Just connect it to my computer, open the email you sent me, and you swear this will unlock the phone?”

…Wait…

“Under usual circumstances, I’d tell you to mind your business. But in this case, I feel like it’s fair to say it’s from the same person you’ve failed to run a background on.”

…Shit.

“Don’t you think it’s rather pathetic for me to have to do your job for you? You better hope this little ‘key’ of yours doesn’t disappoint me as well.” Lucifer huffed as it appeared he ended the call early. You could nearly feel the rage and frustration rippling off of him as he addressed his broken computer, pushing his chair back and letting it roll and hit against the back wall. Your whole world was rocked as the bag was picked up off the floor. “Utterly ridiculous… Losing my mind…” You heard the human mutter.

What an absolutely, utterly, terribly, impossibly horrible human! And to think, you’d almost felt some small modicum of… pity for him! You’d checked on him and made sure he was okay, and this was how he was treating you now? Trying to break into your phone?!

Sweat seemed to bead more down your face. The jostling of the bag wasn’t helping your current weakened condition. And now you were running cold with panic. If Lucifer got into your phone… you can’t even recall what you had written down over text… Did you mention you were a demon? He’d see those texts from Simeon… No…you couldn’t let him do that.

Lucifer continued to walk quickly, making his way through his work building with top speed. A car door opened. Then your mind flipped and the personal hell of your own making roughly hit something and tumbled. More agony flooded your body as all the air was pushed out of your lungs, feeling crushed in all directions. He’d really just thrown you in the car, didn’t he? Ouch… You had to struggle to keep your consciousness. There was too much at stake to simply pass out now, no matter how tempting the sweet darkness was.

Find Beel, unshrink yourself, and now keeping Lucifer from figuring you out…

Hells…how could this little nightmare get any worse?

Tag-List

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@rayanicaraynbow

@designatedbreadbox

@qrowsofafeather

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@coffeeandtealol

@crxwned-mxnarch

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@lex-icon

@hobin-gnoblin

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me beel

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jojikawa · 2 months

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𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝘿𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙄𝙩 𝙈𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙏𝙤 𝙇𝙞𝙫𝙚? | 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙉𝙞𝙣𝙚

WICKED EYES

🦋 — Read all the previous parts!

🩸— This is a dark romance with descriptions of violence, gore, racism, sexism, and NSFW themes. The reader is black in this AU but this story can be enjoyed by all walks of life. This chapter contains manipulation. (no smut, no gore)

Art Link Dividers 3.3k words

“(y/n), tell me, what does it mean to live?”

You froze in the middle of your actions. “Dio, what are you talking about?” You furrowed your eyes with concern. He didn’t exactly adorn his typical cunning look, but instead, more sullen. His thumb rubbed your inner waist tenderly as he held you.

It had been an indeterminate amount of time since your lustful night with Dio. Being held captive here with a stand user warping the mansion to prevent your escape made you lose track of time. You had gotten Dio to soften up by offering your body to him from time to time. But sometimes, your body isn't enough. To him, you weren’t just a body; a means to an end for his sexual gratification. You were a person, with a mind, and he wanted to know your thoughts. Your personality and intelligence are why he’s chased after you for so long. After all, his goal was to make you more like him. Today, he humbly requested that you sit on his lap and feed him desserts in an attempt to bond with you. It was him trying to follow Pucci’s advice for being a good husband but failing to make any sacrifices on his own part.

“You’ve walked free for 100 years. I want you to tell me what it means to live.” He reiterated. “I asked Enyaba but her answer was worthless to me.” You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. “Worthless?” You stuck the fork you had been using to feed Dio into the slice of cake you were sharing. A sigh left your lips. “Why didn’t you like her answer?” You tilted your head. Dio rested his head in his other palm. “Because, how would an old hag like her know what it means to live? I could just ask the undying beauty in front of me.” You expected his mouth to curl into a sly grin as usual. You expected his eyes to narrow at you like you were a piece of meat but—he didn’t.

Dio’s face was somewhat neutral as if he were trying to think. It was almost—cute. Perhaps, you should try to humor him…for once.

“To live is to be happy. To be free.” You told him, somewhat thinking of yourself. You were trapped and hopefully, he’d get the message.

His nose crinkled up upon hearing your words. You feared he didn’t like your answer either. What was he expecting? You gave context, hoping that it would make him feel a bit better since he wasn’t exactly getting what you meant.

“While I was by myself, I did things that made me happy. New things that I didn’t even know I could be good at. Like singing.” You smiled softly, thinking back to your days when you’d go by many different identities to keep making new music.

“Singing? How boring.” Your husband rolled his eyes and shifted his weight in his chair so that he was now looking away from you. Your smile faded and you furrowed your eyebrows at him. “What’s boring is being trapped in a coffin for 100 years at the bottom of the sea!”

“Well, Darling, I didn’t have a choice. You did and you chose to entertain others. I want to hear more about your gluttonous adventures.” Dio began to smirk. He seemed to only be interested in what he liked and not what you liked. It sort of made you sad causing your neutral mouth into a frown. Your relationship was always just you trying to appease him and then he helps himself to whatever he wants, whether it be other women when you deny him, your attention, or your body when you’d finally give in.

“They weren’t ‘gluttonous adventures’ okay? I just can’t control myself sometimes—it seems.” Your gaze shifted to the ground. You were somewhat ashamed of your behavior. The more you tried to stop yourself from being a monster, the stronger that monster became. You heard Dio ‘hmph!’ next to you. “Well, for starters, you can stop starving yourself and feed freely.” His eyes returned to you before he instinctively got angry.

“And if you didn’t know, you can always feed like this…” He raised his hand to your neck. His large hand wrapped around your dainty throat. His claws entered your skin but it didn’t hurt. “…so when it comes to feasting on those beneath me, use your hands and reserve your lips for me.”

“You’re certainly one to demand exclusivity while you go around and impregnate other women.” You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the newfound anger any time you thought of his unfaithfulness. Dio’s smirk returned to his handsome face. “Should I have punished you some other way? I would’ve taken your womb by force but…I already have it.” He chuckled darkly. He waited with anticipation of his first child with you. It would be just one of many and they would grow up to rule the world, just like him. He just hoped that they wouldn’t take after their stubborn mother. The last thing he needed were lions that had soft hearts like sheep.

“And you’re oddly proud of taking away my autonomy.” Your eyebrows knitted together in frustration. You still didn’t like the language he used when talking to you…but that wasn’t a "you" problem. It was a Dio problem.

You had begun to lift yourself off of him only to be pulled back down. He secured his hand around your waist even further. “Oh, don’t you even think of leaving me yet.”

Dio leaned close. So close that his nose brushed yours. A smirk was plastered on his face and, for a moment, it seemed like he was about to kiss you…and you could tell he wanted to. His eyes were set on your plush lips that were already chapped from his excessive urge to press his lips to yours.

For a moment, it did seem like he’d kiss you until he pulled away. His eyes grew cold and he seemed annoyed that he needed to rip them away from your beauty. He looked around the room as if he heard something.

Enyaba suddenly entered the room. She mentioned something cryptic to Dio. Something about training the power of his stand. What power? The only thing you could call back to was your repeating actions the day you tried to leave him again.

His anger melted away before he released you. “I’ll come find you again.” He said as you got up from his lap. You wanted to ask what exactly he’d be gone for but you knew he wouldn’t answer you. The only way to find out would be to pry the information out of a servant..or use your stand on them.

You flashed him a charming smile. A smile that caused him to blush.

“Okay. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Oh. So that’s what it meant to live.

Your smile. Your approval. Your happiness.

Your attention. Your body. Your mind. Your soul.

Your…everything.

Your motherly instincts made you check on Petshop. The sweet bird was just as loving as ever. Although you loved him, you couldn’t help but wonder why Dio chose a bird and not something like a cat or…dog. It felt as though he was mocking you—almost. You felt like a small bird in a cage of bones. A trap with no return. But Dio’s gift to you was a large bird. One that was free and could fly wherever it wanted. It would go out every day but return back to you with free will. Just thinking about it made your eyes fill with tears.

But before you could cry…you noticed something particular about Petshop. On his talons were…ice shards? At first, it didn’t mean anything but then you remember that you were in the middle of Egypt. It was much too hot for ice to last, let alone form at all. The bird allowed you to remove them but you’d surely bring this up to Dio later. You couldn’t help but feel like he was keeping things from you. Pet shop was beautiful but you couldn’t help but wonder where he came from. It was also clear that Petshop wasn’t an ordinary bird. He was somewhat larger than any bird you’d ever seen and despite being gentle with you, it looked ferocious. It had to be a while animal…

It was enough faking your happiness. What you really wanted was to find out how Joseph and his grandson were doing. Judging by the obvious, the boys must be successfully defeating Dio’s minions. The only other people who were close to you and Dio in the mansion were Enyaba and Pucci. In reality, he was more of a “friend” to Dio than to you but he often extended his kindness to you as well. You didn’t have any friends here. Dio’s minions “worshipped” you but the person who ultimately listened to was Dio. Any one of them would turn on you at the drop of a hat.

Some time had passed when you were with Petshop. You were mesmerized by your stand. She was so beautiful and although she looked like a humanoid creature, it felt the same as looking in a mirror when you saw her. You wished that you could fully understand her power. Enyaba refused to help you by orders of Dio and he had isolated you so much that you didn’t get to exercise your power at all.

That was until…

“Lady (y/n)…?”

An unknown person has entered Dio’s private study. Petshop’s relaxed body was not at attention, ready to attack anyone who dared come to hurt his owner.

“Yes?”

You were lying down in Dio’s oversized armchair by yourself when they had come in. You sat up, unable to make out the figure in the darkness. The voice and build let you know that it was a man but it wasn’t anyone you had recognized. As the man got closer, he gasped upon seeing you.

“You’re just as beautiful as Lord Dio described.”

Your eyebrows knitted together. “Who are you?” You questioned, seeing the person who came from the dark. It was a tall man with white skin. He was paler than Dio and he had brown hair. His outfit consisted of a purple jacket and leotard decorated with a similar heart motif that your husband’s new yellow clothes adorned. The ones that Enyaba had just begun tailoring for him.

“Please, my lady, call me Vanilla Ice.” The odd man got on his knees, clasping his hands together as if he were begging for mercy. “Lord Dio has assigned me to be your personal servant from now on.”

Your eyebrows raised. “My personal servant?”

Petshop observed your body language before going back to rest. It seems Vanilla Ice wasn’t a threat.

“Why would Dio send you now? I don’t need to be served.” You crossed your arms. Somehow, you felt less sympathy the more often you saw Dio’s minions. Perhaps, you were jaded from knowing Dio all your life because you couldn’t understand how he was able to charm so many when he was barely charming in your opinion.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but Lord Dio insisted. I am not allowed to let you out of my sight.”

Your eyebrows knitted together. “Out of your sight? For what purpose?” You crossed your arms. “Explain yourself.”

Vanilla Ice began to sweat. You could see the droplets forming on his forehead. “M-My Lord has told me that I shouldn’t burden you with such details…”

“What? I just spoke to him. Take me to where he is right now.” You commanded, making the servant’s expression worsen. “But—” The man took a step closer to you.

“Now.”

“Lord Dio doesn’t believe you should leave this room anymore. He’s told me that you may be jeopardizing his future plans.”

He was trying to lock you away again, huh? Well, you wouldn’t allow that. Especially not in this hot Egyptian Heat.

“I don’t care! Take me to him right now or I’ll find him myself.” Just as you finished speaking, you felt a sense of regret. You didn’t know this man. Perhaps, you shouldn’t have yelled at him…but what is done is done.

Unbeknownst to you, Dio was only just training to harness the power of his stand, but he was taking time to create insurance for you and himself, solidifying the chances of his return. He knew you didn’t approve of his relationship with Pucci. You’d never stop pestering him about it and he didn’t want to risk your stand undoing any progress he’s made in grooming the boy into doing exactly what he wants.

Vanilla Ice couldn’t help but get antsy. He felt as though failing Dio’s orders would get him on his bad side.

Upon taking you to Dio, you saw that this room was much darker than most. Enyaba was there as well. If you were being honest, you began to dislike her. She filled Dio’s head with disgusting thoughts of plot and murder. You felt as though any progress you made in your relationship with him was undone by her. It made you want to kill her. That feeble old woman.

“Oh? And what is this?” Dio’s voice held an innocuous tone. He didn’t see upset that Vanilla Ice couldn’t so easily contain you. Around his hands were purple vines with thorns. They looked slightly out of place as if they weren’t real. At least, you hoped that your husband wasn’t actually sprouting vines from his forearms. “I am NOT letting you lock me up again.” You hissed as you pushed your way into the room, disregarding anyone who may be watching. No matter how angry you’d get, Dio hardly saw you as a threat. He could even admit that he enjoyed it when you clashed with him. The thought of a pretty rose poking him with thorns kept him on his toes. No matter what, you fueled his love for you and his ego.

Perhaps, Ice was the wrong person for the job.

“That’s fine. I won’t lock you away.” Dio manipulated his voice to sound inviting. Maybe he made a mistake. The two of you were doing so well together. The vibes that surrounded his hands and forearms grew and they subtly made their way over to you. Instinctively, you took a step back, not yet familiar with the variety of stand powers due to Dio’s constant sheltering of you and withholding secrets.

You backed into the chest of a large man. He held you by your shoulders, not allowing you to escape. The vines wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to Dio.

You weren’t able to resist the sensation filling your body right now. It was from the vines. You reached down to try to remove them but that only made them hug your waist tighter. A smug look covered Dio’s visage. He waited until your bodies were only inches away before he spoke.

“What is your stand power? As my wife, you must answer and you must do it truthfully.” His hands settled on either side of your waist as the ethereal plants layered themselves around you.

You had no idea what Dio was referring to…

You didn’t know what your stand did. You just talked to people and things happened.

Dio’s eyebrows knitted together slightly at your hesitation. He opened his mouth to speak but you finally spoke first.

“Mother’s Mercy can cause its targets to make better decisions.”

The man raised an eyebrow. His fingers squeezed slightly before pulling you a bit more forward. “What else? Is that it?” He asked you. Well, more so, he asked Hermit Purple. The stand was forcing you to give information. “Better decisions?” He repeated. In a fit of frustration, he let you go. He stepped away from you and his face became one of disgust. “How worthless.”

A stand is a manifestation of the soul. You were his Queen, his Goddess who would rule alongside him. So, why has the universe granted you such a gentle stand?

“Enyaba, can I shoot her again? Would that give her a more ruthless power?”

The old woman shook her head. “Shooting the arrow again would not have any chance of improving her granted abilities and it could disrupt the pregnancy.” She grumbled, pointing her walking stick at your belly. It was protruding a little bit. Weeks have passed since you got pregnant and now you are beginning to show.

“No, Dio, please. Not again.” Your voice was quiet as a mouse and you shook your head, recalling the pain you were in when you were first shot with the stand arrow. It felt like you had been boiled alive. The sensations were unnatural. Even with your vampire augmentation, you were unable to resist its torture.

“What good is a stand that makes my associates join my enemy? I should just lock you up and be done with it.” He began to pace around the room. “Show her out.”

You felt Vanilla Ice tug on you but you didn’t budge. Snatching your shoulder away from him, you stepped towards your husband. “I am not going back to that room. I’m not staying locked up. I want you to stop this and call off your henchman from attacking Joseph and his grandson.”

Dio didn’t turn to address you. “And why would I do that?”

“Because, they didn’t do anything to you, Dio.” Your furrowed your eyebrows. A “tsk” sound left his mouth once you said that.

“Do you know what Jonathan did to me…?” His tone shifted. He sounded hurt but angered as well. Dio strode over to you and grabbed your delicate hand with force. He raised it to his neck and your fingertips tips grazed the scarred issue that kept his severed head on that stolen body. “He did this. On the night of our wedding.”

“What was supposed to be the most special night of my life that I waited years for…” He let go of your hand and you let it fall to your side. You couldn’t tell if he was being vulnerable or arrogant but it seemed personal.

While Dio might've felt like you were the only woman to ever understand him, the reality was that you didn’t. You were just able to adapt well to his unstable personality. Perhaps, that’s why he clung to you like this. Maybe, he knew and simply didn’t care if the two of you understood each other. Maybe…all that matters to him is that he could be himself and you couldn’t run away.

“So, you’re going to kill a random child because you feuded with Jonathan?” Your thumb ran over the tip of your index and ring finger.

Already, you memorized the feeling of his scars. You barely touched them. You never wanted to even though it was clear Dio yearned for it. He was too prideful to beg for it too. You didn’t want to acknowledge the confusing reality that you could be having the child of Jonathan. It made your heart want to burst. It made you want to disappear.

“Jotaro Kujo isn’t a random child. I want to destroy what’s left of the Joestars…” He made Hermit Purple appear again. “And if my minions can’t dispose of him then what better way than to do it with Jonathan’s body?”

The stand snaked up your arm and you could feel its imaginary thorns sinking into your skin. “And if you love me, you’d understand. Do you love your God?”

The same sensation from before took control of your body. So many things ran through your head but you couldn’t form any speech. “E-Erm…” you purse your lips but soon find yourself unable to make eye contact with Dio. His face became increasingly more alert. His pupils retracted as his eyes widened.

Hermit Purple vanished. You couldn’t answer even while being forced to talk.

“Get her out of my sight and take her back to her room. If she resists, use force.”

hey. thx for the wait.

@z3r0art

i cant remember if someone else was supposed to be tagged so pls let me know if you're missed.

#the bride of dio #fluff #reader insert #dio imagines #dio x reader #dio headcanons #dio fanfiction #dio brando x reader #dio brando #jojo headcanons #jojo’s bizzare adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #Jojo Part 3 #dark romance #dio brando x black reader #dio brando imagines #dio brando headcanons #Jojikawa

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likkolo · 17 days

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buon appetito

summary: Felix takes Changbin out for Italian food 🤭

contains feeding/eating, public humiliation, and fat changbin hehe

“Anything else I can get you, sir?”

Felix looks up at the server, and it hits Changbin all over again that Felix is gorgeous. Glowing bare skin, a dusting of adorable freckles. The innocent openness in his expression that instantly draws people in. He’s so beautiful, and Changbin is down bad.

“I think—” Felix’s voice is strong, confident. There’s a sort of calm self-assuredness to him that Changbin only sees when they travel to English-speaking countries. Felix quickly glances around the table, assessing the spread of various dishes. “Another order of carbonara, please.”

The server is professionally polite as she gives him a slightly tight smile. “I’ll have that right out for you.”

Changbin’s cheeks warm. He knows Felix is ordering all this food for him. Felix stopped eating nearly an hour ago, and since then it’s just been Changbin demolishing plate after plate, all on his own. He knows he should stop, get a grip on himself instead of being a complete glutton in public, but it’s so hard to ignore how badly he just wants to eat.

It doesn’t help that Felix isn’t exactly consulting him before he decides to order another dish. If Felix were to ask first, Changbin would have a fighting chance at saying no. But Felix just keeps ordering more, and Changbin is helpless to resist.

Changbin so frequently feels helpless when it comes to Felix.

He prides himself on being smooth, on having game. He’s a shameless flirt who knows how to charm someone he’s interested in. Except Felix, who leaves him feeling bashful and shy. Felix, who only has to flash a sweet smile to have Changbin eating out of the palm of his hand. And probably eating this Italian restaurant out of business.

“Excuse me,” Felix is saying. “Could I get some more bread, please?”

He’s not even speaking to the server assigned to their table. He’s flagged down another server, because their bread situation is apparently dire, despite the chunk of bread they still have left.

Felix pushes it towards him. “Eat up, hyung,” he says, in Korean. “There’s fresh bread coming.”

Changbin’s stomach is painfully full, but it still flip-flops at the firm way Felix tells him to eat. To stuff himself, because there’s no way Felix can't tell that he’s already full.

Changbin takes the bread. He slathers it in butter and shoves it in his mouth.

He could swear that food tastes better when Felix tells him to eat it.

The pasta arrives shortly after, and Felix requests a mountain of cheese to be grated over top of it. Then the server clears away a stack of empty dishes, leaving room for Felix to move the carbonara right in front of Changbin.

“I don’t know how much of this I can eat,” Changbin admits, looking up at him. “I’m so full.”

Felix gives him a bright smile. “You say that now,” he says. “But I know you. Once you start eating, you won’t want to stop until you’ve finished everything in front of you.”

Changbin’s breath hitches. Maybe he should take offense at Felix’s words, but he just feels slightly dizzy instead. How can he object when it sounds just like the lines Changbin assigns to his partners in his fantasies? It’s the exact sort of thing he craves to be told by the nebulous face he conjures in his imagination as he eats with one hand and jacks off with the other.

A nebulous face, of course, that just so happens to have the most beautiful freckles.

His cock is stirring with interest beneath the bulge of his distended gut. He always gets a little bit hard when he overeats, but having Felix in front of him while it happens, just saying things like that—

“Come on, hyung-ah,” Felix coaxes. “Be a good boy and show me how much you can eat for me.”

Changbin wants to moan, wants to roll his hips to force the weight of his belly down on his erection. Instead he just reaches for his fork and begins to twirl it in the pasta, all too aware of how much his cheeks are burning.

“Aww,” Felix coos, looking genuinely charmed by the blush on Changbin’s cheeks. “Did I fluster you? You’re so cute, hyung.”

Changbin is—shockingly—at a loss for words. He��s so used to being in control, regardless of whether his gregarious flirting is accepted or not. And Felix has always liked to feed him, something Changbin chalked up to Felix being a sweet and giving person. But Changbin is quickly starting to feel very out of his depths here. Felix has encouraged him to eat before, but it was never like this. Telling him to take the last slice of pizza—that’s one thing. But this?

Felix must sense his bewilderment. His smile fades, but he scoots closer to Changbin’s side of the table. They’re in a corner booth with a bench that stretches around the table, so Felix can come as close as he likes. He settles right beside Changbin and leans into him.

“Eat up, piggy,” Felix says. His voice is low so that only Changbin will hear it, even though he’s speaking Korean. “I know you like eating with such a full belly. Feeling how packed and swollen you are as you keep shoving more into your mouth. It hurts, but it feels good too, doesn’t it?”

‘What’s going on here?’ Changbin wants to ask. ‘What are we doing? What are you doing?’ But a part of him is afraid that if he asks questions then the spell will be broken. Felix will back off, and whatever they’re doing will go back to being something Changbin can only experience in his fantasies.

So Changbin picks up his fork and stares down at the plate in front of him. “But I’m too full,” he whines, turning to pout at Felix. “I do want to, but… I really don’t think I can.”

“Let’s see if I can help you out a little then.”

Felix holds Changbin’s gaze as he reaches over. His hand lands on the lower bulge of Changbin's belly, and Changbin flinches slightly. He’s no stranger to having hands on his tummy—the members have been patting, rubbing, even jiggling his belly for years—but it’s been different since he got so big. The cute little tummy he used to have has ballooned into a thick double belly, large enough now for the lower roll to push out into his lap. He’s gotten fat, and every touch is a mortifying reminder of that fact.

Never mind that it also sends a jolt of electricity sizzling down his spine. He’s embarrassed, yeah, but he can’t help thinking it’s exciting too. The fantasies he has, the things he hasn’t been able to keep himself from thinking about, ever since he was a teenager—

“God, you’re such a cutie,” Felix coos. “Haven’t you realized there’s nothing to be embarrassed about? Not with me.”

Changbin just gapes at him. It’s an answer to his questions, and yet it leaves so much unexplained.

But he can’t think when Felix’s hands have begun to rub in soothing circles across the lower bulge of his belly. The light pressure on his swollen stomach feels amazing, even though the bloat hurts the most in his upper belly. He knows Felix can’t touch him there right now, since the table wouldn’t hide his ministrations.

Then Felix’s hand travels even lower, down to where Changbin’s belly meets his thighs inside of his jeans. Now that he’s bigger, he wears his jeans with the waistband around the middle of his double belly, so that the upper roll is free while the lower roll gets zipped up into his pants. It creates the look of a big protrusion bulging from inside his jeans, but it apparently also draws Felix’s hand like a magnet. Changbin shivers as slender fingers dance across the coarse fabric, prodding at the doughy fat just beneath.

Changbin’s cock twitches at the sensation. He so desperately wants Felix to lift his belly, to delve between his fat thighs and find the aching cock hidden in all of his bulk. But then he realizes that that means Felix would discover how much Changbin is turned on by all of this, how attracted he is to Felix, how much he wants it. Then again, could things have gotten this far if Felix didn’t feel at least somewhat similarly?

And really, Changbin should have picked up on the signals a long time ago. He has nothing to say for himself, except that he knows he can be dense about things like this sometimes.

That’s when the server reappears at their table. “How are we doing?” she asks. She looks down at the nearly-full plate of pasta in front of Changbin. “Do we need a box?”

“Hmm,” Felix hums. “No, I don’t think so. If we took it in a box, he’d probably be eating it with his hands by the time we got to the car.”

The server hesitates, and Changbin’s ears burn. He looks up at Felix because he’s too embarrassed to look at the server. And then Changbin twitches as Felix slides his hand back up the curve of his gut to the crease between his belly rolls. Felix’s fingers shove into the achingly tight waistband of his jeans, and Changbin tries not to whine at the sensation of finally having Felix’s touch on his bare skin.

“He didn’t get this big by not cleaning his plate,” Felix continues. His tone is cheeky, conspiratorial. As if Changbin’s immense size is an inside joke that they're both in on. Changbin wants to melt into the booth and disappear, despite the way his groin aches in arousal at the humiliation.

“Well, um.” The server politely keeps her eyes fixed on Felix, maybe supposing she can save Changbin further embarrassment if she just doesn’t look at him. “Do we want the bill next, then? Or…” She falters, daring to glance at Changbin and then back at Felix. “Should I bring a dessert menu?”

Changbin makes a noise in his throat. He desperately hopes that Felix won’t move on to stuffing him with a round of desserts. The idea is incredible, of course, but for another time. Right now, he truly doesn’t think he could manage it.

“Wow, dessert,” Felix says thoughtfully. His fingers, still tucked into Changbin’s waistband, slide along the skin until they stop at the closure of his fly. “I guess I should have considered that before I ordered you another plate of pasta, huh, dwaeji?”

“The pasta is enough, Lixie,” Changbin pleads weakly. “I really can’t eat more.”

“It’s a tough call,” Felix says to the server. “He’s had a lot already, but I know he’ll eat anything with chocolate.”

“No, I—” Then Changbin freezes. Felix’s fingers are suddenly on the button of his fly, the thumb and pointer finger coming together in a position that can only mean he’s about to—

The button pops free, and Changbin gasps as his gut surges forward. The force of it breaks apart the teeth of the zipper, allowing the fat to overtake the ruined fly as it spills over his pants and into his lap. His belly suddenly seems to be everywhere—between his legs, on his thighs, even threatening to budge onto the tabletop.

Changbin has never been more embarrassed, and yet he's so much more comfortable than he was before. The worst of the ache in his stomach has eased, and he can finally breathe more deeply.

“Felix…” he murmurs helplessly.

He risks a look down at himself, but he only sees the arc of his belly, covered by his black T-shirt. A flood of relief washes over him at the knowledge that the tabletop kept everything hidden from sight. The server must know what happened—though she probably thinks Changbin just popped his button with the sheer force of his distended stomach—but at least she can’t see that Changbin’s naked underbelly is now hanging into his lap.

Then, with a creeping sense of shame, Changbin realizes that he's ready to eat a little more now.

The server looks back and forth between the two of them, clearly unsure of what to make of the situation.

“You know what,” Felix says, effortlessly taking control once again. “Let’s see the dessert menu. I have a feeling this one will be able to manage it after all.”

“Y-yeah,” Changbin says weakly. “I think I could.”

“Then I’ll be right back with that for you,” the server says tightly, before hurrying away.

Then they’re alone in their booth again, and Felix begins to work his hands over the expanse of Changbin’s tender belly. “Hyung is so good for me,” he coos. “Eating everything I ordered for him and even asking for dessert.”

Changbin savors the praise as he melts into the soothing touch.

“But don’t forget,” Felix says, with a sudden edge to his voice. “You still have to finish your plate of pasta.”

Changbin shivers and picks up his fork. “Yes, Felix,” he says, and begins to eat.

#weight gain fic #skz feedism #chubby changbin #me thinking its a good time to post a lil story btw ksm spoiling skz met gala and kendrick wrecking drakes shit

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

Angel By the Wing - Eight

Warnings: mentions of possible future death, arguing, cursing but that’s the norm for me

A/N: IM SORRY FOR THE WAIT I had an entirely different chapter written and it just didn’t feel right. I hated it but I didn’t know what to write. But then...boom bingo it came to me. Enjoy

Series Masterlist

“You fucking what?” Your incensed voice cut over the music from Jake’s Alexa and you ordered the device to quiet down before turning to glare at the blond seated across from you. Jake stabbed at his burrito bowl and merely shrugged at your frustration.

“I motivated him a little,” Jake hummed. “Y’know why he’s called Rooster, right? Always waiting for his time to come, but he always waits a little too long to crow. So, I pushed him in the right direction. That’s all.”

Your grip tightened around the handle of your fork and you shook your head. “You are such an asshole, Jacob Seresin.”

His smile dropped and he raised his hands in a placating, innocence-bearing gesture. “You don’t even know the guy and you’re taking his side?”

“Who cares if I know him or not?” You shot back. “It was a shitty thing to do.”

Jake studied the way your scowl deepened and brows drew tight. There was something he was missing. Something in the lines of your shoulders and the heat in your gaze…

“You slept with him,” he finally said. “You slept with Bradshaw.”

“And so what if I did?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I know our deal. But out of all people, I thought you had better taste than that.” His words were dripping with sarcasm and derision and you let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“Fuck you, Seresin. You’re just mad that some guy could make me come faster than you can.”

“Aw, darlin’, I bet I’m the only guy who has ever made you scream.”

You shook your head. “You’re such a pompous ass. You act like Rooster is the only one here with daddy issues but surprise, Seresin, you’re fucked in the head too!”

His cocky smile dropped, lips parting in surprise at your low blow. Your chest rose and fell with harsh, angry breaths but you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“You’re distant and unattached because you saw how your father treated your mother and you dread becoming like that, but you’re not. You’re nothing like your dad, Jake…and you don’t see that. He pushed you to be the best and it’s turned you into this glutton for glory, but…you don’t get it, do you?” Your voice softened at the end of your statement and he just stared at you. A swell of emotion pressed against your throat and cut off the words that threatened to spill out, but you bit them back and took a long, slow breath.

“You need to cut the shit on this lone wolf act, Jake. These people are you teammates for a reason. You’re going into the field with them because you’re the best. There is no competition here, despite you always thinking there is. I know your dad fucked you up in the head, but god, Jake…”

You shook your head and laid your fork down in the shallow bowl before folding the lid on. “You can really be a selfish dick, Jake, and I say that as someone who cares about you.” Tears burned at the corner of your eyes and you blinked them away, surprised at the sudden rush of emotion that flooded your chest.

“If you die out there, the next time I see you will be with a flag draped over your coffin. Do you think that’s fair to me? To your mom? Do you think she’ll care that you were the best when she’s handed that folded flag? It feels like you don’t realize that there are people here, at home, who love you and want you safe. You’re always so focused on being the best that you forget about the people around you. I can’t lose you, Jake.” A sob bubbled up in your chest at the mere thought of seeing that casket. “Please. Don’t make me bury you.”

The kitchen descended into a stalemate. Jake sat on one end of the table, speechless and searching for any semblance of words to string into a sentence, and you were sitting there with a creeping sense of horror as you realized all you had said.

Quickly, you stood and grabbed your purse and phone. “Thanks for lunch, but I really need to get going.”

He stopped you with a gentle touch against your hip. You turned and peered down at his bright eyes. Jake’s lips moved, but only muted whispers escaped him. His brow furrowed over shiny blue eyes and you reached up, smoothing the tips of your fingers across his brow in an attempt to erase the worried lines creased there.

Craning your neck down, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. He smelled of sunscreen and sea foam, just like he always did. Jake lived by the beach. He loved the surf and sand and the warmth of the sun and you…god, you loved sitting there with him with the sound of waves crashing in the background and his cocksure humor keeping you entertained.

But you weren’t seated in the sand next to him. You were walking out of the door before you said anything you regretted.

You extracted yourself from his hold so you could get to your car. You set your leftovers in the passenger seat, buckled yourself in, and then pulled away from his apartment without looking back once, scared that if you did, the tears would start falling down your cheeks before you could stop them.

Jacob Seresin was such an asshole.

You loved him.

“Fuck,” you swore, slamming your hand against the wheel. Way to fucking go.

Tag List: @mizzzpink @xoxabs88xox @dreaminglandsworld @khaylin27 @loveforaugust @phoenixssugarbaby @atarmychick007 @mak-32 @itsmytimetoodream

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #hangster x reader #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #jake seresin imagine

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im-a-marion3tt3 · 9 months

Note

i have a ficlet request for you if you're interested!!! (it's about phantom's ED recovery, just as a little warning)

if it's something that interests you, i'd love to see what you think would happen after phantom eats his first full meal since his first few weeks being summoned (maybe it's just him and mountain in the greenhouse because it's a safe environment for him?), or if phantom sat down to eat dinner with the rest of the ghouls and actually ate an okay amount of food?

if you're not interested, no hard feelings whatsoever!! i love your writing so much, and the way you write dew and phantom and their EDs (and recovery!!!!!) is so wonderful, thank you <3

Omg yes. Thank you for this wonderful idea!!! Hopefully I didn't take to long to respond and did your idea justice!

Tw: Ed and sh (graphic depiction)

Phantom's heart was in his throat and he felt like he couldn't breathe. His plate was fully, everything was sectioned carefully into its own respectful place so that nothing was touching. Normally, Phantom was okay with people staring at him, but now, it was making him want to die. There were too many people here, too many people judging him on what he ate and what he didn't eat.

Phantom almost jumped out of his seat as he felt someone touch him; it was just Mountain though. He looked at the taller ghoul with fear and panic in his eyes. The other just rubbed his thigh slowly, trying to keep him grounded as he ate with his free hand. Mountain knew how stressful this was on the younger ghoul, it was his first attempt at eating enough food to actually give him nourishment. It had been months since then, for the past months Phantom (if he even came to dinner) sat there with an empty plate and judgmental eyes. The earth ghoul was simply proud he was trying.

Stealing a look at Mountain, Phantom picked up his fork and sighed before poking at the food on his plate. Slowly, he took a bite of the meat that had been made. It was so disgustingly good, Phantom hated every second of it. Even as he went for a second bite and third and suddenly half of his plate had been cleared. It scared him but he could stop, he was hungry and it made him so guilty. It was like he couldn't control himself though as Phantom continued eating until there was nothing left.

Disgust. That was all the quintessence ghoul felt. Phantom couldn't believe he had let that happen to him, it made him nauseous. He could feel Mountain gently squeeze his thigh, most likely trying to ground and praise him but Phantom was no longer there. He had completely zoned out to escape the guilt he felt for eating so much in front of everyone. 'Certain' he thought to himself, 'they're going to think you're a glutton now. Especially Dew.'

It wasn't until the meal was over that Phantom came back, noticing people clearing the table as a few of the ghouls walked off with each other, talking about something that happened on tour. Phantom stood up fast then, realizing he was now free. He moved fasting, making sure no one else could follow him, especially Mountain, as he headed towards Rain's room. That's where he knew he could find them.

Phantom didn't even bother knocking as he opened the door and shut it loudly behind him. He needed someone but couldn't deal with Mountain, couldn't handle his words of praise and being told how good he had done. No, he needed something that would hurt. Rain was sitting on the bed, holding the cigarette in Dew's mouth as he took a drag. The two's attention quickly turned towards the younger ghoul, mainly because he looked like shit. Tears ran down his face, silently as he made his way over to them and fell into the bed. Rain reached forward and gently ran a hand through Phantom's hair.

"Oh baby," he whispered softly, feeling ever so guilty. He hadn't realized that Phantom's eating had gotten so bad that one regular sized meal left him in tears. Carefully, Rain set Dewdrop to the side of his lap and reached forward with open arms. Phantom eagerly climbed into them, tears rolling down his face as he silently cried.

"It's in my pocket if you want it," Rain murmured into Phantom's hair. He was talking about a small blade, one that he almost always carried around for one reason or another. The younger ghoul nodded though continued to cry, his eyes were too blurry with tears to see, though he'd take it later.

"You're such a brave little ghoul," Dewdrop said softly as he gently rubbed Phantom's back. He was not in a comfortable enough place to do what the younger ghoul had done though he silently envied him. He wished he could see food as anything for more than a number but that was going to take a little more time for him, after all, he had been doing this for years before Phantom had even been summoned.

The three sat there for a little longer, doing their best to comfort Phantom, whispering soft words of praise.

"C-can I h-have it now?" Phantom eventually whispered as he adjusted himself in Rain's lap. Said ghoul fished out the small pocket knife, opened it and gently handed it to the smaller ghoul.

"Don't go too deep, Tom, your body can't handle too much blood loss right now," Rain instructed as he wrapped his arms around Phantom's waist so that he was secured in his lap as he slowly cut his wrists, pressing over old scars. It made the younger ghoul tear up in pain. He needed this though, needed the superficial control it gave after dinner. The fact he had eaten everything and barely registered, he felt like a wild and disgusting animal and this was the only thing that made him feel like he was in control of at least something.

It was Dew who stopped him, a hand on the butt of the knife and softly saying, "that's enough, Phantom, that's enough." Said ghoul didn't want to stop, didn't think he had done enough damage until he finally blinked away the tears from his eyes and only saw red staining his arms... His clothing... The bed... Oh Satans

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" Rain spoke in a gentle tone as he easily stood up with Phantom in the arms and brought him to the bathroom, setting him down on the sink counter. Dewdrop followed along with both the knife and a first aid kit. Since they were already here, he wanted to have his own turn. Rain simply focused on cleaning up the younger ghoul before applying salve and bandages. Once he was fixed up, the two watched Dewdrop cut at his skin, though it was far less messy than Phantom. He patched himself up as well as Phantom and Rain held onto each other and watched.

Eventually, once the bathroom and bedroom had been cleaned but by Dew and Rain, Phantom just watching numbly, the three piled into bed, Phantom pressed in the middle. The other two held him and gently rubbed his sides as he fell asleep against them.

Though it was hard and didn't look at it to many others, Phantom was getting better in at least one regard.

#ghost the band #phantom ghoul #the band ghost fanfic #ghost #ghost angst #the band ghost #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #tw ana shit #tw disordered eating #tw sh #rain ghoul

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queen-dahlia · 1 year

Text

𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐯𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗥𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟰

Note: Translation is not 100% accurate. Expect grammatical errors.

// : alternate translation | ⫘⫘ : flashback | 4:4 answer

The harassment caused by the hatred for Obsidian increased day by day.

Still, nothing was more vicious than being locked up in a warehouse, so I somehow managed to endure...

The preparations for the White Rose Festival were about to be completed without incident.

If it weren't for the whims of the trampling beast.

Leon: "I'm sorry, Emma, am I having a hallucination?"

Sariel: "I was also a bit deaf. Could you repeat that?"

Chevalier: ". . . . . ."

I was the one who summoned the three of them to the round table where the meeting was being held.

There is a reason why three of the busiest people have gathered here today, just before the festival.

(The seriousness of the situation is sinking in…)

(But we can't escape reality, let's go ahead and do it.)

Emma: "Prince Gilbert—"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gilbert: "I would also like to attend the memorial service."

Silvio: "Pff—"

Keith: "… Eh…"

This morning at breakfast time, which is becoming a daily routine, Prince Gilbert said something to me,

Silvio, who happened to be there, spit out the tea, and Keith dropped his fork.

Emma: "Prince Gilbert is... going to the memorial service?"

Gilbert: "What's the big surprise?"

Gilbert: "If Silvio and Keith are going to be there, I should be there too."

Silvio: "Stop. You will be stabbed."

Keith: "… I don't think it's a good idea either. It would be too much for Gilbert to attend the memorial service."

Gilbert: "A blasphemy against the dead?" // "A blasphemy to the dead?"

Keith: "I didn't say that."

Silvio: "Then, are you an insensitive, stupid prince who can't read the atmosphere?"

Keith: "No!"

Gilbert: "… I'm hurt. Comfort me, Little Bunny."

Prince Gilbert, who was showing off his gluttonous eating habits next to me, stops what he is doing and puts his head on my shoulder.

The sudden closeness of the distance made my body stiffen.

Emma: "… A-alright?"

I stroked his hair and swallowed Prince Gilbert's request to get him away from me as soon as possible.

The atmosphere in the room was outrageous.

Silvio: "…… Are you stupid?"

Keith: "Lady Emma... you are very brave."

Gilbert: "… Pfft… Haha…"

Emma: "Hey, you asked me to comfort you, so I had no choice but to do it! It was inevitable!" // "Hey, you told me to comfort you, so I did! It was force majeure!"

Gilbert: "Oh yes, it was inevitable... I never thought I'd be treated like a child at my age, but…" // "Yeah, it's force majeure… I never thought I'd be treated like a child at my age…"

Gilbert: "But I don't hate it… Haha."

(Let's not go crazy anymore.)

When I withdraw my hand, Prince Silvio clears his throat to regain his composure.

Silvio: "What kind of grudge do you have against Rhodolite?"

Even Prince Silvio and Prince Keith of other countries don't look good.

I am sure the response of the princes of Rhodolite will be more than this.

Gilbert: "No, no, rather, I like Rhodolite."

Gilbert: "The food is good, the roses are beautiful, and there's a little rabbit."

Silvio: "… Don't try to hit on her so casually."

Keith: "I have no idea what Gilbert wants to do."

Gilbert: "Fufu… Isn't it fascinating to see a man with a secret?"

Silvio: "If it's a joke, it's a joke. Yours is no joke."

Silvio: "Tell me what you're up to, right here, right now."

Gilbert: "Well, there's only one reason to attend the memorial service, right?"

Emma: "Would you... like to pay your respects?"

(The people of Rhodolite were victims of the Obsidian.)

Gilbert: "Of course. We have to show respect for the innocent."

Emma: "However, Prince Gilbert said before—"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gilbert: "There's nothing wrong with that, is there? There's no rule that says the Obsidian royalty can't participate."

Sariel: "Then will you pay your respects?"

Gilbert: "As long as it's just a heartless form."

Sariel: ". . . . . ."

Gilbert: "That's the kind of country Obsidian is in, ordering an invasion with words of memorial."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Emma: "—You said so yourself, didn't you?"

Silvio: "That sucks."

Keith: "… I've misjudged you, Gilbert."

Gilbert: "Ahaha, I've changed my mind."

Prince Gilbert looks up and smiles gently in front of me.

If someone who doesn't know anything sees it, it's a fraudulent smile.

Gilbert: "I want to give a reward to Little Bunny, who has been harassed countless times and doesn't give up even when she cries."

Gilbert: "If I attend the memorial ceremony, I can be the symbol of peace you want me to be, right?"

Gilbert: "Also, it's impossible for me to mourn as a representative of the country, but as an individual, I'm willing to do it."

Gilbert: "In any country, taking the life of an innocent person is a mortal sin."

(… Are you serious?)

I couldn't doubt it because I knew there was a good side to him.

Keith: "If you do attend the ceremony, I don't think the Rhodolite side would be happy about it."

Silvio: "If it were me, I'd probably slam my fist in his face."

Silvio: "The people of my country were massacred. I don't want a bastard like that paying respects to us."

Gilbert: "That's right…"

Gilbert: "But it's okay. Because I have Little Bunny."

Emma: "Eh."

Gilbert: "Can you ask?"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Emma: "Is it too difficult?"

No matter how many times I explain it, the wrinkles between Leon and Sariel's eyebrows won't come off.

I knew what to expect, but the atmosphere was heavy.

Leon: "If it's an offer that comes from sincerity, there's no reason not to accept it."

Leon: "Figurative mourning is a desecration of the dead." // "The mere act of paying respects to the dead is blasphemy."

Sariel: "However, it is true that there are those in the public who welcome this as a sign of improved relations between the two countries."

Sariel: "There has been a lot of tension over the years, so Prince Gilbert's participation is generally not a bad thing."

Leon: "Then, do you agree?"

Sariel: "No. I have the same opinion as you, Prince Leon. There is no meaning in paying respects only figuratively."

Sariel: "Besides, I don't think that Prince Gilbert would attend just for the memorial service."

Sariel: "Without a doubt, he must have prepared some evil deeds that will blow our minds."

(It's Prince Gilbert who can't defend against such things.) **

(But on the other hand, I also want to believe.)

(He hates lying, so his desire to mourn the dead is genuine…)

(… Maybe I'm just thinking too conveniently.)

Sariel: "I'm sure Prince Gilbert will also be in great danger."

Sariel: "The ceremony will be open to the public. And then suddenly, Prince Gilbert will appear…"

Leon: "It would be no surprise if some people started throwing rocks at him." // "Wouldn't it be funny if someone threw a stone at him?"

Sariel: "… Rocks are still not very nice." // "… Stones would still be a pretty sight."

Sariel: "For security reasons, I really want him to refrain from attending the ceremony."

(Prince Gilbert must have expected this kind of thing from Leon and Sariel.)

(But he still "asked" me to do it... He’s so mean.)

Chevalier: "Nonsense. It's not even worth discussing."

Prince Chevalier, who had been silent all this time, said to dismiss our troubles.

(After all, Prince Chevalier is also against Prince Gilbert's participation.)

Chevalier: "If we refuse the offer from the Obsidian side, it will be taken as a sign that our country has no intention of friendship."

Chevalier: "I think he should be allowed to attend, even if it puts him at a slight disadvantage."

(…… Uh.)

Chevalier: "The soldiers of the foreign faction have extra strength when it comes to security. If we rearrange their deployment, we should be able to cope with the situation."

Chevalier: "… I don't think it's necessary, though. Eyepatch is not stupid. He will defend himself."

Sariel: "Prince Chevalier, it could be a trap…"

Chevalier: "It's a trap 9 out of 10, but it's not something you can set."

Chevalier: "He's probably aiming for..."

Prince Chevalier and I engaged in perfect eye contact.

Emma: "… Me?"

Chevalier: "Let him go this time, and you'll get a clearer picture of what his purpose is."

Chevalier: "What is he trying to ascertain through you?"

Emma: ". . . . . ."

Chevalier: "It's well worth more than the disadvantage."

(Perhaps Prince Chevalier can foresee what will happen on the day of the ceremony.)

Prince Chevalier lifts the corners of his mouth as if he were playing a board game.

He is not usually a person who shows his emotions, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

Chevalier: "Simpleton, you should also attend the ceremony on that day. I'll give you a role."

Leon: "Don't be stupid, Emma could be in danger."

Chevalier: "I'm not talking to you."

Cold eyes like a frozen sea prompt my words.

(I know it's dangerous, but I also want to know Prince Gilbert's intentions.)

(Also, in the unlikely event that Prince Gilbert harms Rhodolite…)

(I have to take responsibility to stop it.)

That's what I mean by being a friend of Prince Gilbert.

Emma: "Please."

Sariel: "Emma, don't overdo it."

Emma: "I'll be fine."

(… Oh, I said "I'm fine" again.)

I would be lying if I said I wasn't anxious, but I smile because I don't want to cause concern.

Chevalier: "It's settled. I told you I'd take care of this in the first place."

Prince Chevalier grabbed me roughly by the shoulders and pulled me close.

Chevalier: "You are in no position to do anything about it." // "You guys have no authority to do this, lose it."

(I didn't know there was such a story.)

Seeing the bitter looks on both Leon's and Sariel's faces,

It seems that Prince Chevalier had been doing a lot of work without my knowledge.

Leon: "When you said you were going to take care of her, I thought you were a harbinger of a natural disaster."

Leon: "It's not like I agreed to do something like this."

Sariel: "Me too... She's Belle, and her safety needs to be our top priority."

Sariel: "It is more important than countering the threat of Prince Gilbert."

Chevalier: "I don't care. What makes you think I would do something that would cause me to lose an important piece?"

Leon & Sariel: ". . . . . ."

Chevalier: "If anything goes wrong, I'll take care of it. Is that okay?"

Chevalier: "Simpleton, go call Clavis and the clown. We'll work out the details."

Emma: "Y-Yes…!"

I hurriedly followed the back of Prince Chevalier, who dashingly fluttered his cloak.

There is no anxiety or hesitation in his steps.

With his extraordinary foresight, he seemed to be already thinking about countermeasures against Prince Gilbert.

Leon and Sariel don't argue with Prince Chevalier for a long time, either.

It's proof that they trust you.

(He is a rational person, although he has a horrible side that sometimes makes him abandon his humanity…)

(He is also the only one who can counter the Obsidian threat.)

(Maybe this is the kind of His Majesty the King that the unstable Rhodolite is looking for right now.)

══════════════════

—On the day of the White Rose Festival, about which I had a premonition of turmoil, the sky was dazzlingly clear.

On a stage set up in the open air, the princes of the domestic and foreign political factions, as well as major aristocrats and distinguished guests from other countries, ascend one after the other.

A memorial ceremony for Blood-Stained Rose Day has been held in the past on the first and fifth anniversaries.

His Majesty the King, the princes, and other distinguished guests of the Rhodolite will offer a white rose at the Cenotaph, and they will all join in a moment of silence.

Normally, the ceremony is supposed to be solemn, but this year there was something unusual going on in the surrounding area.

(… I knew this was going to happen.)

People's attention is directed toward the princes of foreign countries.

On the occasion of the 10th anniversary, Silvio, the prince of an allied country, decided to attend the ceremony himself,

It seems that Keith, the prince of a neutral country, decided to participate because the victims had no enemies or allies.

The problem is Prince Gilbert.

(The Prince of Obsidian not only helps with the White Rose Festival but also attends the ceremony…)

(The rumors spread all at once in the past few days, so many people have gathered at the venue…)

Amidst all the mixed feelings of good and bad, the person in question is dignified.

Even in front of some of the guests who looked as if they were about to kill him at any moment, his refreshing smile did not falter.

(I wonder what he's thinking behind that smile.)

(… For now, I'll do my job.)

The role that Prince Chevalier prepared for me was to distribute the white roses that were offered as flowers to the prince and other distinguished guests.

As they stand in line to get theirs, I carefully hand them out one at a time.

After the Rhodolite princes finished laying flowers, the princes of other countries came next—

Emma: "Here you go."

Gilbert: "Fufu… Little Bunny, your smile is so tugging at my heartstrings." // "Fufu... Little Bunny, your smile is starting to fade."

Emma: "Because of this situation…"

I get so nervous that my hand shakes as I give him the white rose.

Various voices were heard from below the stage.

While there were voices wishing for friendship with Obsidian, there were also many rants of resentment,

All the emotions that made me want to cover my ears seemed to be stabbing Prince Gilbert.

Emma: "… Are you okay?"

Gilbert: "You know me, I'm a beast."

Emma: "… No beast can mourn."

Gilbert: "I'm a good imitator."

(He seems to be used to this kind of thing.)

(… How many times—just how many times has this person been stabbed in this way?)

(Maybe he deserved it, but still.)

(I don't know why... I'm confused.)

Prince Gilbert received the white rose from me and headed to the wreath stand.

The people, who had been lively until then, suddenly became silent.

(… It's Rhodolite's manners.)

Manners for offering flowers may differ from country to country.

Rhodolite, who takes care of roses, has particularly detailed rules around that,

But Prince Gilbert's movements are so beautiful that you can't complain about them.

(Really, he seems to be sincerely respectful.)

(Is he just a really good imitator as a person, or—)

Crowd: "Look, Obsidian has a will to reconcile, doesn't he?"

Crowd: "No, it's all an act. We should get rid of him now!"

Crowd: "Huh? You think that's acting? We should treat him properly!"

Crowd: "Don't be silly! Obsidian has no humanity!"

(Oh…)

Voices begin to rise from everywhere in response to Prince Gilbert's actions.

It was like a fire in oil, and you could see the scuffle from the stage.

(It's not just the anti-monarchy faction. Rhodolite is so disjointed right now.)

The commotion gradually grows louder, and the knights come in to control it.

Still, once the fire was lit, it would not subside...

Eventually, I could see some people trying to get up on the stage, overcoming their restraints.

(Any more than this is dangerous!)

At the moment everyone thought so, Prince Gilbert stood in the middle of the stage, and the sound of his cane echoed.

The small sound seemed to have been drowned out by the whirlwind of commotion.

And yet, people stopped moving as if time had stopped and looked up at Prince Gilbert.

It was a bizarre sight.

(It's not sound… It's the atmosphere.)

(I feel pressure in the air.)

The Trampling Beast laughs briskly.

Equally to friendly people as to a hostile one.

Gilbert: "Lords and ladies of Rhodolite."

Prince Gilbert's dignified voice dominated the venue.

Gilbert: "Ten years have passed, and Obsidian wishes to establish a new relationship with your country."

Gilbert: "If possible, let everyone here live a happy life."

Gilbert: "If you can give me a sincere response at the upcoming four-way talks, I will respond to that as well."

Gilbert: "Your country has already damaged our friendship once."

Gilbert: "I hope it doesn't happen again. On the occasion of the White Rose Festival, right?"

(… I want to be honestly happy, but I can't.)

The people, who had been quiet, come to their senses and begin to make noise again.

The madness created by hostility and goodwill was terrifying.

Gilbert: "Hehe... It seems that there are many people who feel uneasy, so let's show them a proof of friendship for starters."

After saying all he wanted to say, Prince Gilbert turns away.

I was standing at the edge of the stage.

Emma: "Prince Gilbert?"

I feel a chill run down my spine, and I brace myself.

(His eye isn't smiling…)

(… I have a feeling he's up to something.)

As I stepped back, a cold hand grabbed me and pulled me.

I could see Yves and Rio trying to run up to me in the distance,

All of them were blocked by the cold body of Prince Gilbert.

Gilbert: "What do you think is the easiest proof of friendship, Little Bunny?"

(… I don't know.)

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Yves: "Now Obsidian has become a hostile, abhorrent nation..."

Yves: "There was a period of time when we were trying to open diplomatic relations and establish normal diplomatic ties with Rhodolite."

Yves: "My mother then came from Obsidian to Rhodolite in marriage as a token of our friendship."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gilbert: "Yes…"

Prince Gilbert's face fills everything—

(I don't want to know...)

Gilbert: "It's love."

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