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cherriesformatt · 2 months

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sharing the news || matt sturniolo part 2

matt x fem!reader

summary: after a while you decided its time to share the news of your new chapter in life with Chris and Nick

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 1,5k

a/n: thank you for over 100 notes under part 1! I decided to continued the story. I hope you will like it!

It's been a month since me and Matt found out that I'm pregnant. It’s been hell of a ride so far. We somehow managed to talked Chris and Nick out of my little episode and told them I just got my period and was really upset, tired and need Matt to go to the store for me. I spent entire next two days in Matt’s room trying to figure out our situation. I was also constantly sick and anxious. After than I just tried to be as normal as I could so no one would be suspicious.

At first it was like I didn’t know what I should do. But then I found myself thinking about the baby with my hand on my stomach and I knew I wanted to keep it. I also did hear Matt talking to my belly in the middle of night which made me cry so hard in the bathroom because of how cute that was.

Today was my first ultrasound appointment to confirm the situation and check if everything is alright.

“You know… I was thinking that if everything is good I would like to tell Chris and Nick and then we can decide how and when we want to tell the rest of the family” Matt looked at me when we stopped on the red light.

Keeping this a secret form his brothers was really hard for him because they always talked about everything with each other. Which was scary for me at first. Their whole relationship and building my own with Matt but also becoming part of theirs. Now I just admire the bond between them.

“Yes I was thinking the same” I smiled at him and put my hand on his thigh. I was nervous about only one thing.

“What I was thinking… Is that I will literally jump if your fucking triplets genes worked too hard and there is more than one of those” I said what was on my mind recently.

“Oh my goodness… I didn’t think about this” He put his hand over his mouth.

He was clearly scared now.

“We giving one to Chris in that case” I said seriously.

“Please , we are never leaving our kids with Chris, ever” he said.

I only laughed at that and patted his leg.

“It’s gonna be all good Matt, let’s manifest it’s only one for now” I said.

“Baby… I know this month wasn’t ideal for you and we both tried to cope with the fact that we’re going to have a baby but also only us knowing for now is really special” He looked at me for a second and his eyes went back to the road.

That was also exactly how I felt and I leaned forward to him and kissed his cheek.

“I love you Matty… I know this is all hard but you’re right” I said.

“I love you too sweet girl… okay we’re here, let’s do this” He parked the car and took a deep breath.

Our appointment went smoothly. They did my blood test which confirmed that I’m pregnant. They also did bunch of other tests to see if I’m all good and healthy. Thankfully I was. The last step was the ultrasound.

“Alright parents…” The doctor said and I gasped at the cold of the liquid that she put all over my lower belly.

She called us “parents”, that took me by surprise and I felt so weird.

“Ready?” She looked at me and smiled and I only nodded and closed my hand on one of Matt’s hands.

She started the thing and looked at the monitor. We couldn’t see it just yet.

“Okay… I found it… everything looks great. The baby is healthy. Looks like you’re about 6/7 weeks pregnant” She said.

“Only one?” Matt asked and wiggled on the chair.

“Oh my Lord, Matt… He is a triplet and we were kind of scared that you know… there’s gonna be more than one” I laughed and looked back at the doctor.

“Yes there’s only one” She laughed as well and turned the screen so we could see it too.

I felt like my heart skipped a beat when I saw a little thing moving on the screen. Like a dot. But I knew it’s our baby.

“Oh my…” I said and she pushed some kid of button and sound of a really fast heartbeat started to play from the machine.

“Is that?..” Matt gasped as well.

“That’s your baby’s heart beating… it’s really fast that’s normal and that’s actually really good. The baby is really healthy, you guys… congratulations” She said with a big smile.

But both of us were speech less. I caught Matt swiping tears from his cheek with a corner of my eye. That moment was something you can’t explain. You need to experience that yourself to know how much love I felt in this moment.

When we were back in the car I put all of my stuff in the back seat, closed the doors and turned around to go to my doors but I was met by arms of my boyfriend.

“Oh Matt…” I said hugging him back.

He hid his head in the crock of my neck and I run my fingers through his hair. I felt tears on my skin and I couldn’t help as my eyes started to water as well.

“We’re going to be okay. We can do this Matt. Together” I said but my voice broke I couldn’t exactly feel what’s happening.

“I know… y/n I’m just so happy that’s it’s overwhelming” He said pulling back to rest his temple against mine.

“I feel exactly the same way” I whispered looking him in the eyes.

He kissed me and pulled me even closer to his body. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

On our way back we stopped by target and some other places to get Nick’s and Chris’s favorite snacks, drinks and some funny, cheesy stuff that had “cool uncle” on it.

At home I put all of it in two boxes and also added a picture from the ultrasound to each.

This situation was so unreal for me and Matt. They were actually filming in the kitchen now. I really wanted to have their reaction on camera, so we told them that Matt wanted to do some kind of unboxing with their eyes blindfolded and they would have to guess what’s in the boxes.

When he texted me they are ready I took the boxes and come to the kitchen and put them in front of them and stood behind the camera.

“Okay you may open them” Matt said.

They started to pull stuff out.

“That’s bullshit it’s clearly Pepsi and popcorn” Chris said.

“Yes and that’s my own lip balm” Nick said annoyed.

“Okay how about this?” Matt took an ultrasound pictures and put into their hands.

“Piece of paper?” Chris said.

“No” Matt said and looked at me.

“Picture?” Nick said and showed it to the camera.

“Yes, it’s a picture” He nodded and smiled to the camera.

“Picture of us?” Chris asked and opened his can of Pepsi.

“No… but picture of someone that is in a room with us” Matt said.

“Oh my gosh you fucking freaking me out right now, what the fuck, are you a medium or what” Nick said an put the picture on the table.

“Okay… maybe just take your blindfolds off and Chris… you might want to wait with that fist sip” I said looking at them.

“I didn’t know you were here…” Nick said and started to undo the bandanna on his head.

I bit on my nails as I watched them taking those off. Then they looked at the boxes and I felt like I stopped breathing for a second.

“What the actual fuck? Is this some kind of prank?” Chris asked as his eyes widened.

“Oh my gosh are you kidding me?” Nick looked at me and stood up.

“Chris you owe me 1000 dollars… I knew it!” He hugged me tightly and I put my arms around him.

“Did you two bet on me being pregnant? What the hell?” I laughed.

My stress went away because how could I be stressed around them.

“I actually forgot that we did” Chris said and gave Matt a big hug.

“You guys… I don’t know what to say” Nick said pulling away from me.

“Well…. To be honest we don’t know either” I said and Matt only laughed.

“Yes… this feels really like a dream more than real life” Matt said looking at his brothers.

“Wait… are we first to know?” Chris asked.

“Of course you are… who else?” Matt looked at him and Nick went closer to them and they three shared a hug and than looked at me.

“Come here mama” Chris wiggled his eyebrows at me.

“Never, ever call me that again” I said seriously while coming into the hug.

They laugh and we stand like that for a minute or two.

“Okay I love you all but all three of you smell like three different colognes and I might throw up” I said stepping back.

This baby will be the luckiest baby in the whole world having them as a family.

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets

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chaikachi · 9 months

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The Little Prince, The Rose, & The Aviator

AKA We just got confirmation that Oscar's main allusion is in fact The Little Prince so I wanted to gather all evidence that supports it in show thus far.

cross-posted from twitter

A brief summary for those who aren't familiar:

The Little Prince is a story about a young boy that travels to many worlds & meets many people. It is told out of chronological order from the perspective of an airplane pilot that the prince meets close to the end of his journey.

It explores themes around childhood and growing up, love, loss, friendship, loneliness, and hope, among other things. All ideas very prevalent in RWBY.

Part 1: The Little Prince

The first theme I want to touch on is that struggle of trying not to lose yourself as you grow up.

"Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is exhausting for children to have to provide explanations over and over again."

Oscar is the youngest of the group, and yet he is one of the characters most often shown trying to reason with the adults in the room.

Yes, we've mainly seen it with Hazel, Ironwood, and Oz... but while the rest of RWBYJNR are also 'just kids', he spends so much energy trying to reason with them and mediate conflicts there as well. All while still being the youngest of the bunch.

Another way this shows itself is in Oscar's resistance to merging with Oz. The merge is a very clear metaphor for how the people you meet and the things you experience can often change you. And how, when you're a kid, it all feels like its completely out of your control.

Speaking of the hoverbike scene, I want to shift to a different part of The Little Prince. The infamous moment with the fox and what it is to be 'tamed'. To be tamed is to create ties with others. To become important to them and for them to be important to you.

When Oscar is having a talk with Oz in v8 about how he finally felt like himself, the person he wanted to be, and felt like he was finally "part of the team"... There is a fox plushie lying on the ground as he passes by.

But we see that Oscar was right to feel this way later on.

Because just as he was "only a little boy like a hundred thousand other little boys" when he first met everyone... he had since been tamed, and tamed his friends in turn. And they fought tooth and nail to bring him back when he was captured by Salem.

Part 2: The Aviator & the Rose

In RWBY, most characters have a main allusion that is central to their arc and then secondary allusions for what roles they fill in relation to other characters. (Ex. Yang's main allusion is Goldilocks, but when thrown into the plot, she also becomes the Beauty to Blake's Beast, just as Blake was once the Beauty to Adam's Beast).

If we apply that metric to other characters here, we know that Ozpin's main allusion is The Wizard of Oz and Ruby is Little Red Riding Hood... so when placed within Oscar's story structure of The Little Prince, they become The Aviator and The (Ruby) Rose, respectively.

The aviator is a man that struggles to hold onto his childlike wonder. He tries, but he lives in a world of grown-ups so it becomes difficult with time. The little prince - much like Oscar with Ozpin - helps him remember some of the things that he's forgotten.

When the little prince meets him, the aviator is grumbly after crash landing his plane in the desert & is trying to fix it before he runs out of water.

Funny then, that when Oscar is crash landing a plane it is Oz that instructs him on how to do it.

When the aviator explains his circumstances, the prince laughs and exclaims that he "fell from the sky too". Which is an interesting tie in to the canon RWBY fairytale mentioned in Before the Fall, The Boy Who Fell From The Sky...

...as well as another fairytale we've seen mentioned in the show proper: The Girl Who Fell Through The World. A tale that was first talked about by Oscar, later expanded upon by Ozpin, and finally lived by Ruby Rose herself. (Yes her team also experienced it but it's very strongly emphasized Ruby and Alyx were paralleling each other in ways the others were not).

One thing about the little prince and the aviator is that by the end of their journey when it's time to say farewell, it's quite clear they've tamed each other as well. So much time spent by the pilot wishing to fix his plane and get out of the desert, but when it's finally time to say farewell, he does not want to go. This is not something we've gotten in show yet, but I'm willing to guess is going to be the basis for when the war is won and Oz is finally set free. Leaving the two of them to finally have to say goodbye.

And I realized I couldn't bear the thought of never hearing that laugh again. For me it was like a spring of resh water in the desert. "Little fellow, I want to hear you laugh again..."

Moving onto the Rose.

In the story, the little prince is enamored by her as soon as he sees her for the first time. As he gets to know her, she is described as many things. Some that fit Ruby well (miraculous, naïve) and some that she subverts (vain, self-centered).

Ruby might not be caught up on physical appearance, but she is convinced that she's the only one in all the world that can do what she has to do. It's a childish way of looking at things, and to believe you can't accept help from others is - in its own way - selfish.

In the book, the rose asks the little prince to tend to her. She's very needy with her demands and while the prince loves her dearly, it is a strained relationship. In RWBY, Oscar sees Ruby wilting very early on and decides to tend to her without waiting for her to ask. Of which we have... SO MANY EXAMPLES AND I DON'T HAVE A HIGH ENOUGH IMAGE LIMIT TO POST THEM ALL SO YOU GET 2.

Not pictured here, but still worthy of note: Oscar mediating when Ruby is being undermined in v8, Oscar talking the responsibility of telling Ironwood the truth in V7, the "food always makes me feel better" / "I made you a casserole because you were sad" scenes. The List Goes On.

Part 3: Other Easter Eggs & Evidence

There are also other fun little pieces that drive home just how much these characters allude to the book as well as the inspiration it's had on the show in general.

The first thing the little prince asks the aviator for is a drawing of a sheep that he can take home with him so that it can eat up the sprouts of baobab trees before they overgrow his entire planet and destroy it (and his rose) in the process...

The tree in the Ever After has maple leaves, but the shape of its trunk is very clearly not a maple. When compared to these illustrations, it seems to have pulled inspiration from baobabs... and what does the tree in the Ever After do?

Its roots consume the rose.

One of the lessons that's brought up repeatedly in the book is that:

"One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.”

This is brought up in a few different ways:

The little prince left his rose back home, so when he looks to the night sky, separated from her, he says:

"The stars are beautiful because of a flower you don’t see . . ."

When Ruby is in the Ever After, with no one to tend to her, she is in a town filled with paper stars.

It is brought up again in reference to the desert, which we have a wonderful tie-in now thanks to the animatic shared at RTX recently:

“What makes the desert beautiful,” the little prince said, “is that it hides a well somewhere . . .”

And again by the aviator in reference to the little prince himself.

What makes the little prince special is his loyalty to a flower. Ruby Rose, who inspired Oscar to keep fighting, who reminded him he was brave, and who's mission he has worn on his literal shoulders.

Two other lines in that passage I've highlighted I also want to mention.

"As the little prince was falling asleep, I picked him up in my arms, and started walking again. I was moved. It was as if I was carrying a fragile treasure."

This line about the little prince being a treasure (treasure is an rg song truthers rise up 🙌)

And the emphasis on lamps being symbolic of the Little Prince himself which... we've seen for Oscar A LOT.

"What moves me so deeply about this sleeping little prince is his loyalty to a flower - the image of a rose shining within him like the flame within a lamp, even when he's asleep... (...) Lamps must be protected: A gust of wind can blow them out..."

Also Ruby has been referred to as a "spark" by Oz before and when Oscar is worrying over Ruby at Brunswick farms, Maria tells him to "keep that fire fed" which is exactly what lamp lighters do. Just very deliberate use of that imagery here.

It ALSO ties into earlier in the novel where, among the little prince's many travels meeting plenty of confusing adults he doesn't understand, he encounters a lamplighter. And of all those that confused him, he found he could at least relate to this one and see value in his work.

There is also a matter of how the prince's first appearance is at sunrise:

That he is cited to live on a planet "scarcely bigger than himself" and "being in need of a friend". How we see Oscar very alone on his farm back in Mistral, just like the prince, only tending to his daily chores by himself, we never even see his aunt.

And while there are a few other bits and pieces i'm surely forgetting, the last big one I want to talk about is how both the beginning and end of the book start with a venomous snake.

The aviator shows us a drawing of a boa constrictor eating a wild beast...

...versus Oscar's first appearance coming immediately after he wakes from a nightmare of Tyrian, a venomous scorpion faunus, being sent to capture his rose.

And the story ends with the little prince in a desert getting bit by a venomous snake that sends him back to his rose and away from the aviator... thank goodness RWBY loves to subvert its fairytale origins, amiright?

"(The little prince) fell gently the way a tree falls, there wasn't even a sound..."

tl;dr Oscar is for sure The Little Prince, Ruby has always been his rose, RG canon, Tryian vs. Oscar in the desert real and #GREENLIGHTVOLUME10 SO WE CAN SEE IT HAPPEN ALREADY >:OOOO

Thank you for reading 💕

#might to a lil red riding hood one next tbh #rwby #ruby rose #oscar pine #ozpin #analysis #rwby analysis #chainalysis #long post #the little prince #rosegarden #greenlightvolume10 #meta #rwby meta

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cheriepits · 1 year

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Your roommate vash au is so cute!! He would be the sweetest boy to live with, I’m imagining him constantly offering you his clothes now he realises how it makes you feel after the sweater fiasco…

Oh, absolutely.

ao3. [part 1.] part 2. coming home to you is a pilgrimage. [part 3a, 3b.]

Roommate!Vash who gives you his favorite pullover during movie night while you huddle up next to Meryl on the couch, the boys taking up the floor—all long limbs and soft bickering.

“Your foot stinks,” Wolfwood deadpans.

“That’s your breath,” Vash quips, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Shh!” comes from both you and Meryl. Sorry, Vash mouths, twisting behind him to rest his hand on your calf, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. You bite into the plush fabric of his pullover when he turns away, taking his hand with him.

Roommate!Vash whose fingers skim over your hips when he helps you out of the shirt you borrowed, an extra large tee over your outfit that says “Someone from España Loves Me”—a “failed” gag gift (because he really does love me, Vash delivers earnestly) from Nicholas when he walked the Camino de Santiago last spring.

Specks of semolina fall off the front as he lifts the shirt above your head and slides it down your arms. He stops at your hands, surprising you with how he tugs off the tacky dough from your fingers and creases the red Love Me letters in the process.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, his amusement coming through, “I’m used to messy kids.”

You can feel the thundering of your pulse point as he concentrates on his task, the few seconds of his ministrations feeling both too long and too quick for what it was. You may have let out something high-pitched and unintelligible, but not even a small quirk of his lips shows that he’s heard it.

“There,” his tone is smug. “You’re pasta-free.”

He smiles so easily at you every time.

When roommate!Vash finds out that the straps of your apron broke, he goes back to his room to fetch an old volunteering shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“You can get anything on them. Acrylic, oil...the blood of your enemies,” he says slyly. You roll your eyes as you take the clothes from his grasp, and without thinking twice, you lean up to brush your lips against his cheek.

“Thank you, Vash,” you say softly, touch light against his jaw.

Roommate!Vash catches you painting one day after coming home early for once. A thick, grey cloud had hovered over him, plagued by the comments his attending had been making all day, the patient interview that he felt he failed, and the general feeling of incompetence he’s been having during this rotation. Not to mention the weight of today in general…

He recognizes the first few notes of the song you’re playing, anticipating the lyrics in his head when—

The setting sun casts an orange glow on your meadow, the red field of flowers livened by its warmth. You have your leg propped on the stool, neck craned towards the canvas and holding a fine tip to the surface. He feels his brain rewire watching your profile, the relaxed lines of your body against the seafront view, next to Arno, his child—

Then he sees it. Lighthanded brush strokes, like smoke, like river. Ink lines that curve high along your thigh and disappear beneath the the bunched hem of his shirt and—

“Fuck, are those doughnuts?” he exhales in disbelief.

“Yes?” you respond cautiously, struck by the slackening of his jaw and his wide-eyed gaze. “I got us some.”

Then you’re walking over wearing only his shirt with a half-dozen box in hand, fingers sickly-sweet from strawberry jam. Vash looks at the box, then the sugar on your hand, then your legs, and back.

“Where are your pants?” he asks dumbly.

“Your sweats were too big so I put them on your bed,” you shrug. “This shirt is very comfy, though,” you say, shifting on your feet. “Hey, are you alright?”

Vash had buried face in his hands, the frames of his glasses digging uncomfortably into his sockets. My roommate’s an angel, he groans.

A literal being sent from heavenohgodI’mnotgonnasurviveI’mnogonnasurvive.

When you finally pry apart his hands and look up at him with that soft gaze yours, asking, Did you have a bad day? Vash relaxes into your grip and thinks, you undo me so easily every time.

[ Bonus:

Nai glares at the corner of his entryway. His clothes haven’t arrived, as he’d asked. Then, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting the door behind him, he stalks towards the living room and sets down his pizza box on the coffee table. It’s not his usual choice, but he was in their old neighborhood for once. The pizza place was Vash’s favorite, and today of all days, he especially misses his brother.

He presses the play button on his speakers before he enters the shower, letting the water wash away some of the tensions of the day. Nai leisurely rolls his neck, moaning softly under his breath, and goes through the rest of his bath with some needed mindfulness.

Ludions was one of the earliest pieces Rem taught them, elementary to both him and Vash, really, but oh, how they delighted with the last poem about the obese cat Potasson.

“Mom, I’d like one, too,” Vash asked as a child, fingers resting against the keys. Eyes alight with laughter, their mother had responded, “Alright, but perhaps not the big kind.”

With a towel slung low on his hips, Nai palms at his face with both hands. There’s something that Vash gave him shoved in the depths of his drawer. He knew he should have burned it when he had the chance, but he couldn’t make himself do so. It was his baby brother’s gift after all.

Steeling himself, Nai snatches the white tee underneath his pile of socks and dons it along with a pair of joggers. His surly expression reflects back at him and his eyes inevitably rove over the words generously streched across his chest:

small tits, big heart.

He snorts once before snapping a picture, sending it to Vash. Hope you’re doing okay today. Call me when you get the chance.

On the top of his screen is the perpetual notification of the day.

Tesla. ]

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cosmerelists · 10 months

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Favorite Boardgames of Each Order of the Knights Radiant

It’s Radiant Boardgame Night on Roshar! What would be the favorite boardgame of each Order of the Knights Radiant?

1. Bondsmiths: Connect Four

It’s a game about forging connections!

Stormfather: Yes, Dalinar, allow the red pieces to fall into place! Complete the line! Forge the bond!

Sibling: Use your wily human ways to be victorious, Navani!! Go diagonal or something!

Dalinar: They certainly are...invested in this game.

Navani: Just so long as the Stormfather doesn’t blow over the board when I win.

Navani: ...Again.

Stormfather: I’m very invested in connecting!!

2. Dustbringers: Jenga

With their surges of Division and Abrasian, the Dustbringers have powers that could be called...destructive. I think they’d enjoy Jenga.

Malata: Ha, ha! I have made the tower CRUMBLE

Ral-na: You are aware, of course, that per the rules, this means you have lost the game.

Malata: Wait, we’re playing by the rules?

3. Truthwatchers: Clue

The Truthwatchers believe in finding and sharing the truth. Like...the truth of who murdered Mr. Body this time!

Renarin: It was Mr. Green in the Library with the Wrench!

Rlain: You won AGAIN?!

Stump: You’re not using your future sight or something, are you kid?

Rlain: You know Renarin wouldn’t do that.

Stump (muttering): Just think it’s weird that I never win.

Renarin: That might be because you always accuse Colonel Mustard.

Stump: That mustache is DEFINITELY hiding something!

4. Skybreakers: Monopoly

The Skybreakers believe in obeying the law, no matter what. And if there’s a game that people don’t normally follow the actual rules for, it’s this one. The Skybreakers? They’d play it “right.”

Szeth: The other knights speak of something called “House Rules” for this game.

Nale: “House rules” are not rules at all, but merely inventions of unreliable human actors who wish the game to be “shorter” or “more fun.”

Nale: We will NOT continue the game until SOMEBODY buys this property at auction.

Joret: Personally, I LOVE not having fun!

Cali (muttering): Kiss-ass.

5. Lightweavers: Pictionary

With their artistic skills, Pictionary would surely be a delight for the Lightweavers.

Beryl: It’s an apple!

Shallan: Shhh...hang on...I’m not done...

Vathah: Come on, come on, that’s already the best drawn apple we’ve ever seen, etc.

Shallan: Aaand done!

Gaz: Time’s up.

Ishnah: It’s still tied.

Ishnah: Mostly because we’re all drawing only one picture per round.

Shallan: Maybe timed games aren’t really for us...

6. Willshapers: Mousetrap

The Willshapers love two things: building and freeing those who have been unjustly imprisoned.

Eshonai: Wait, you said this game was about freedom, but it seems that I will be trying to trap you in a mouse jail?

Venli: Shhh...I’m putting the final touches on my mousetrap! Ha! It looks AMAZING

Eshonai: Are we trying to keep ourselves free by imprisoning others? Is that..okay?

Venli: Don’t think too hard about it.

7. Elsecallers: Scrabble

The Elsecallers are thoughtful, scholarly, and logical. I think they’d enjoy transforming a bunch of disparate letters into words!

Jasnah: Ah, I seem to have another 7-letter word. Amusingly, it is “radiant.”

Jasnah: And over here I can make “crab,” which is not bad with the “b” counting twice on the triple letter score.

Jasnah: Looks like Side A is currently winning.

Jasnah: ...

Jasnah: Sometimes I wish there were other Elsecallers.

8. Stonewards: Risk

The Stonewards tend to be soldiers and to enjoy warfare, weaponry, and challenges. They can make do in difficult circumstances. It seems like they’d enjoy a good game of Risk!

Zu: I shall reinforce Greenland! That is where my troops are most needed!

Badali: Wow, another game heading into its third hour!

Badali: Take two people who are both stubborn and good at strategy...

Zu: And you have great fun all afternoon?

Badali: That’s what I was going to say!

9. Edgedancers: Pandemic

The Edgedancers are healers and helpers, those who listen to people who may otherwise be ignored and remember those who may be forgotten. I think a lovely cooperative game, and one in which you work together to heal the world, would be great for them.

Lift: I did it! I discovered one of the cures!

Godeke: Great job, kid!

Lorain: It’s no nice to play this game without a worldwide pandemic actually going on, huh?

Godeke: What, uh, made you say that?

Lorain: You know, I have no idea!

10. Windrunners: Chess

I know chess may sound like an Elsecaller game, but hear me out. The Windrunners are all about military ranks, and in chess all the pieces represent a rank. The Windrunners believe in protecting the weak--like the king piece. Sometimes they have to accept that they can’t protect everyone, like when they must sacrifice pawns. They’re good at working in tandem, and chess is about getting disparate pieces to work together. So Chess seems like something they’d enjoy...with maybe a few exceptions.

Kaladin: Well, this game gets one thing right.

Teft: That it takes a squad to protect a man?

Skar: That the ardents go their own way?

Sigzil: Bishops.

Skar: Whatever.

Moash: That everyone is forced to protect the king, even though he is demonstrably the weakest and most useless piece?

Lyn: That any pawn can attain ultimate power?

Kaladin: No.

Kaladin: It gets horses right.

Kaladin: Why are they the only piece that consists of a giant, creepy head?

Kaladin: Why are they big as the castle?

Kaladin: Why the hell do they move like that?!

Kaladin: This is a game about how terrifying and creepy horses are.

Teft: Maaaaybe that’s enough chess for today.

Kaladin (whispering): No one gets me like chess does.

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jelmet · 8 months

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what pets i think fit with the batfam

these are kinda out of order but what evs

tell me what other characters u want (doesnt have to be bat-adjacent)

Dick Grayson

German shepherd maybe a huskey mix too

I know he has Hailey in canon but canon is of my choosing

I feel like his prestict was training dogs and one of them failed the training but hes already bonded with it so he takes it home with him and now he has a dog

he names it after somthing in the cirus

also named nightbite and the dog is considered a vigilante but only comes out to calm down children

Jason Todd

orange tabby

whenever someone meets the cat for the 1st time he spends 15 mins trying to convince them the cat is actually red

named elizabeth, and he forces you to call the cat elizabeth, no lizzie or any other nickname only elizabeth

he found her wandering around crime alley with out a collar and scooped her up and took her home

they become inseparable except when jason is doing vigilante stuff them the cat sleeps in his bed

shes tiny from malnourishment ect. from being on the street

he nourishes her back to health but she never gets to full size

Tim Drake

toad

he wanted a bullfrog before realizing how annoying they are and ended up getting an american toad

he named it either tim jr. or frog

he puts it in a mason jar (no top ofc) with some water and brings it everywhere (non vigilante)

the toad works comms and he tries to get everyone to call it red toad (failure)

he wears gloves when handling it and is very careful not to get salmonella (all reptiles and amphibians are loaded with it)

Duke Thomas

im giving him 2 types of pets

first he has a fish tank with those floresent neon fish

he has the full set up with the black lights and everything

1 fish of each color named color fishie (blue fishie, yellow fishie, ect.)

he also gets a rabbit

specifically a Miniature Cashmere Lop

he names it judy (zootopia reference lol)

he took her on patrol with him one in one of those baby carries that straps to your chest but he bent down and judy hopped out and he spent half an hour chasing her around

she lives on his bedroom floor, he has everything she needs lined along a wall and she just kinda chills all day

Cass Cain

SNAKE

she gets a common brown snake

they are non venomous, typically very docile, and the longest they can get is 13 inches long

she did tons of research on snakes and makes sure it living its best live

names it after her favorite fruit

she keeps trying to feed duke’s fish to it

brown snakes are fairly small so she will curl it around her fingers on one hand and do her homework with the other

Carrie Kelley

Yes shes part of the family

a hedgehog

she keeps it in her pocket

his name is sonic

she made him a blue mask and paints some of the quills blue and takes him on patrol (he mostly stays in her pocket)

one notable occasion she shot him with her sligshot into a thug’s face

sonic was ok the thug however was not

sonic lives in carrie’s pocket

Alfred Pennyworth

mini horse

he named it named fredrick

it stays out in the barn with batcow

he goes out on walks around the manor grounds and the horse will follow him around

helps out around the batcave and works coms with frog

Damian Wayne

i know he already has a ton of pets go away

caribbean reef octopus

i saw a video of one of these guys escaping its tank and immediately thought of damian

either gives it an arab name or names it richard

has an amazing tank setup for it with lots of enrichment

sometimes he takes it out on walks around the manor and damian will carry a little spray bottle to ensure he doesnt dry out

HE GETS 2 ASWELL CAUSE I JUST REMEBERED SMTH

a bearded dragon

he wanted a komodo dragon but they are massive (and venomous) so he compromised on a bearded dragon

he gives her either an arab name or names her timothy

ITS A DRAGON HED BE SO HAPPY!!!!

just like the octopus he takes really good care of her

she has a bunch of differnt outfits and leashes and he takes her on walks all the time

Stephanie Brown

Indian star tortoise

she saw a tortoise mukbang video and decided she needed one (go to animal asmr on youtube)

she named her ravioli

tried to get her a job in the bat med bay but alfred refused to let “ground zero for a salmonella outbreak” into the med bay

she has a massive box with multiple sets of lights despite how tiny she is (hes a baby now and about 2.5 in but adults get to 7-12 in)

as a baby she rides around on steph’s shoulder

once she gets bigger steph puts her in a leash

Bruce Wayne

way too many bats to count

each person has a bat named after them and a bat they have named

the rest are named bat bat

the bats are not allowed outside of the batcave

he also has ace (bat hound) who, from my best guess, is a Doberman

he also gets a fox moth

he raises it from a caterpillar and he loves it (he picks it up off the sidewalk and decides to keep it)

he names it bug

only pet not allowed to go into the batcave

it mostly stays on his head or shoulder when not asleep (even as a full grown moth)

sleeps in a net like cage thing hanging in his room

he cried really hard when it pupated only for a moth to come out a few weeks later

Jarro

why is the starfish here?

because

anyway in Flash 238-243 in the 70’s hal has a pet alien starfish thing named itty

jarro gets his own itty and yeah

#batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #duke thomas #carrie kelley #stephanie brown #cass cain #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #damian al ghul #bruce wayne #jarro #batman #dc comics #robin

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megamindsecretlair · 3 months

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Get To Know Me Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @nerdieforpedro 😚 for anyone who cares, here's a bit about me! 🥹

General rule: I may overshare in dms and authors notes sometimes but Im generally a private person 🤣 to the point Ive lost friends over it. ive been working with my coworkers for 3 years and they dont know shit about me 🤣 I juss really love yall and feel safe with yall so here we go!

1. Were you named after anyone?

No. My mom didnt want our names to announce who we were on applications so we all got regular smegular names. My name is of Irish origin so my yt folks customer service voice got ppl thinkin I have red hair. I mean....technically yes but its buried under my braids 🤣

2. When was the last time you cried?

At the end of The Marvels. The first end credit had me in real, actual tears. On a more serious note, I last cried before my grandma died. Yall, its fn hard being a caretaker. I was not built Ford Tuff.

3. Do you have kids?

*ahem* 🗣🗣 fuck no! 🤣🤣🤣 I dont even have nieces or nephews. Kids make me nervous and Im pretty sure they can smell the fear on me. 🤣

4. What sports do you play/ have you played?

I played basketball and softball in HS. I love and miss softball all the time even though my big behind HATES running.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Sarcasm is one of my love languages. I put that shit on everything 🤣 Physical Touch is my main one since we sharing.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Ooof, tough. Depends. Some quirk like glasses, lisp, moles. How they walk/talk, the way they laugh. I am a lurker by trade. Overly shy kid and writer by nature will do that to ya.

7. What is your eye color?

Dark brown. When that sun hits 🫠🫠🫦

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I am a HUGE scaredy cat. I dont do scary movies nothin! Happy endings over here! 🤸🏽‍♀️ I will enjoy a thriller but only behind my hands and mostly starring Matthew Lillard.

9. Any talents?

.....no? I have a bunch of useless knowledge or trivia that no one asked for but ya gonna get 🤣 . Juss realized writing is considered a talent 😭 so that too 🤣

10. Where were you born?

US, West Coast baybeee

11. What are your hobbies?

Obvs, writing. Reading, sewing, cons, tarot, tv, listening to music, video games (xbox, switch, PC girlie) , Marvel. Marvel is a hobby. I will talk your ear off. That is both a threat and a promise 😚

12. Do you have any pets?

I have two gorgeous Boston Terriers who run me into the ground every day. Idk why my mom thought two was okay 🫠🫠 my Black ass tide 🥲 👏🏽

13. How tall are you?

Fun sized 5'3 and a half 👏🏽👏🏽🤣 pear shaped. I got ass for days but in the itty bitty titty committee. 😭😭😭😭😭

14. Favorite subject in high school?

Definitely English. My English teacher was so fine 🥲🥲 thats not WHY it was my fave but can ya blame me 😩 I loved reading the books but I hated the themes they shoved down our throats. What if that wasnt MY interpretation of the book??? Hmmm? Some faves include: Their Eyes Were Watching God (Teacake 🥵🥵🥵), Brave New World, Bright Lights Big City (probably where my love of second person is from) , Bronx Masquerade, and The Outsiders. And FUCK the Great Gatsby. If I hear about that damn green light one 👏🏽 mo 👏🏽 fn 👏🏽 time 👏🏽😩😡 and FUCK Of Mice and Men, he aint have to do all that in the end. And DOUBLE FUCK I Know Why the Caged Bird sings. Turned my stomach when she described the SA. Lemme stop 🥴

15. Dream Job?

Writer. I will publish, I will be successful, and I will live the life I want. I claim it 😩 on my Octavia Butler, NK Jemisin, Danielle Allen shit 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

Whew! That was fun 😭🤣

No pressure tags: @mybonafidefeelings @bratzmaraj @braverthanthenewworld @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @westside-rot @saturn-rings-writes @notapradagurl7 @wide-nose-and-wonderful @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @harmshake @targaryenvampireslayer and who wants to do one. I love learning bout my moots.

#megaminds tag game #get to know me tag game #get to know megamind #im funny sometimes #chronically online emo kid #dass me #i dont cry that often #nothing against it #i juss hate how puffy my face gets #my forehead big because im a people watcher 😭#glasses wearer too #tag game #tumblr tag game #know your moots #join in #i love learning bout folks

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ouatsnark · 1 year

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What happened to Emma Swan? DEBUNKED

Ever so often the Swan Queen fandom gets it in their heads to try & tear down Emma Swan's look and character development simply because she married a man… a man who treated Emma far better than their Queen. Their arguments prove that they lack the will to understand the writing as they blatantly twist canon to fit their narrative.

"What happened to season one Emma Swan? She went from happy to miserable because of Killian Jones" - Regina Apologists

This is a prime example of how Regina Apologists are so dishonest. The two pictures on the left are promotional shots from the show. The two pictures on the right are moments from Season 6 when Emma is in distress. The first image she is watching her parents sacrifice themselves for the good of Storybrooke (while Regina, who is at fault, does nothing). The second one is when Emma was having visions of her own death. These instances have NOTHING to do with Killian Jones! However, I can find plenty of times when Emma was in distress due to Regina Mills!

I have found so many examples of them pulling this crap. I would be here all day screen capping their dishonesty.

The truth: Emma Swan wasn't happy in Season 1 & that Emma wasn't the real Emma

Yes, you heard me. Season 1 Emma wasn’t the real Emma. The real Emma was hiding behind an armor of red leather jackets, fake eye-lashes and a chip on her shoulder to keep everyone at arms length. She put on a tough bravado as an armor to protect herself from the world because she'd been hurt too many times.

But as a time passed, Emma needed less and less armor. She became more trusting and more open to love, family and happiness. When she shed that armor she let herself be more vulnerable. She became more caring toward others. Which is about the bravest thing you can do.

The more and more we saw Emma opening up to love the less armor she used. And the less armor she used, the more we hear from the Anti-CaptainSwan crowd that...

How do you go from THIS to this??? - Regina Apologist

GASP! A woman didn’t put on a bunch of make up & doll herself up for you SO SHE MUST BE MISERABLE & has no agency because she’s at the mercy of everyone!!!

Imagine degrading a woman for not wearing make up or curling their hair? You have got to be kidding me.

Also, if you really believe this, then you should be looking more favorably on Killian Jones. He obviously loved Emma for who she was and not how much make up she is wearing unlike like you fools.

Never mind that once again they grab a screen cap of when Emma is going through a tough time...and why is she going through a tough time? BECAUSE OF REGINA MILLS! Yeah, Regina's other half is trying to hurt her parents and possibly kill everyone all because Regina can't stop wanting to be evil!

The Truth: Killian Jones made Emma Swan happy

It's literally in her wedding vows. And you can see it on her face whenever she looks at him. Killian Jones helped her trust in love and not be afraid of the future.

The truth: Regina is the cause of 99% of Emma's problems

I've seen Regina stans try to say that Emma looked miserable during her vows but they fail to actually listen to what she is saying. She is not only fighting tears but when she looks away, apparently sad, she is remembering her life before Henry. She is thinking about when Henry came to get her which wasn't a happy time at all really. She was thinking about what Regina did to her and her family.

But she looks at Killian with all the happiness in her heart.

"Emma went from a badass in Season 1 to a Stepford Wife" - Regina Apologist

I love how they continue to use promo shots and bts pictures.

It’s like the Anti-CaptainSwan crowd believes that there is only one way to be a strong woman: having a chip on your shoulder, being sarcastic to everyone, never needing anyone (especially a male) and being single (unless its w|w). They just don’t like the fact that Emma not only chose her own path but fights for everyone and not just their precious queen.

I have actually heard Rumple stans call Emma a Stepford wife as well because she chose Hook over Rumple's cowardly son Neal. Which is just hysterical since Belle is literally a Stepford wife. She ignores all of his abuse, his bad deeds and his manipulation and stays with him.

The Truth: Emma Swan was still a badass after getting together with Killian Jones:

S4 taking down dragon Lily

S4 telling grumpy to back off before she turns him into stumpy (hey you thought sarcasm was badass? there you go!)

S4 taking on the darkness to save the town

S4 defeating Cruella to save Henry

S5 going up against Nimue

S5 confronting Rumple about him being the Dark One again

S5 doing what she had to do and knowing she had to destroy Dark Hook

S5 telling Regina to fix her own damn problems for once cause Emma was done doing it for her

S6 going up against Wish Hook.

S6 going up against the Serum Queen

S6 sacrificing herself for Gideon and destroying the dark fairy

Furthermore, if Emma was that dependent on Killian Jones then she would not have left the Underworld without him. But she did leave him for the sake of Henry and others who needed her.

DEBUNKING MYTHS

Emma is complex but SQers fail to accept Emma’s evolution because it didn’t involve her becoming Regina’s doormat in every aspect of her life.

I know it's hard for Regina Mills stans to spot character growth, since their queen didn't have one, but Emma Swan and Killian Jones are where the most character growth happened. They evolved into much better people as the series came to a close.

Here are some things I've seen when talking about Emma's evolution or about her being worse off with Killian Jones than she would have been with Regina or Neal. And lets be real here, Emma was worse off with Regina as a friend. That is just a fact.

THEY NEVER ACKNOWLEDGE REGINA'S TRUE ROLE

I will see them talk circles around Regina's role in Emma's life to avoid putting blame where it should be and that is directly on Regina Mills. They will say things like "The Charmings abandoned Emma" but The Charmings didn’t just abandon Emma. THEY SAVED HER LIFE with the hope that Emma would return to save the entire kingdom FROM REGINA. Regina was going to murder infant Emma.

They will also go on about how Killian and Emma were enemies at first. Killian Jones was never as much of an enemy to Emma like Regina Mills was. Regina emotionally and physically hurt Emma and destroyed her life.

MYTH: EMMA WAS ONLY AT HER BEST IN SEASON ONE OR WITH REGINA

As mentioned above, they prefer closed off and alone Emma. However, Emma was at her best when she let down her walls & allowed herself to love. A heart full of love is beautiful. But love to Regina apologists only looks like Emma bowing to Regina. Well. Emma was closed off, negative, sarcastic & willing to overlook all of Regina’s shit for the sake of Henry. Allowing someone to put you down the way Emma allows Regina is NOT someone at their best.

Emma at her best understands sacrifices for the greater good, forgiveness, mercy & the strength of love. That was Emma during all 7 seasons. Actually, Emma showed Regina way too much mercy (Rumple too, in fairness).

MYTH: EMMA WAS FORCED TO CHOOSE HOOK

Anyone who says that Emma was forced to be with Hook because Killian & her parents "pressured her" or "made her" is hating Emma Swan. This is a bunch of fanon nonsense & not canon. No one was forcing Emma. You can’t point to a single scene or dialog that suggests that. Quite the opposite in fact.

You don’t fight for something as hard as Emma fought for her happy ending if it’s not what you want. Remember that Snow & David were against saving Hook in Camelot. They were more concerned about Emma. Hell, Killian Jones was more concerned about Emma's future than living! He wanted her to choose her life over his! It was Emma’s idea to go get Hook in the Underworld & everyone was against it at first (cause who just walks into the Underworld??). If Emma's parents were pushing her towards anyone it was Neal. So, no, no one was forcing Emma to be with Hook. When Charming gives his blessing to Hook he says that the final decision is up to Emma.

If you truly believe that Emma was forced to be with Hook then you don't understand Emma Swan. Emma didn't do anything that Emma didn't want to do. Remember when Emma was dead set on running back to New York in season 3? No one was going to change her mind. She had to find out on her own that life with Henry and her parents in Storybook was indeed home. Emma was perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

MYTH: GETTING MARRIED AND HAVING CHILDREN WAS NOT SEASON ONE EMMA'S HAPPY ENDING

Says who!? When did Emma say this? Emma didn’t want a family? GTFOH with that BS. More fanon that isn’t backed up by canon. She THOUGHT she wanted that life with Neal (re-watch Tallahassee). But after his betrayal she packed that side of her away for fear of being hurt again. You’re mistaking her protective armor for who she really is.

And furthermore proving that you don't know what character growth looks like. People change so characters should as well. Well written characters evolve.

MYTH: EMMA DIDN'T PUT HERSELF FIRST ANYMORE BECAUSE OF HOOK & WAS A SHELL OF HER FORMER SELF

Putting those you love first is a sign of unconditional love. I know that’s hard to understand since your queen is a self-centered bitch who never put anyone first… but Emma is different. And just because she wanted to be with her family doesn’t mean she wasn’t putting what she wanted first.

Emma being a shell of herself is a personal opinion. Emma evolved. She had many more layers by the time S6 rolled around. As I said above, her personality in S1-2 was a part of her armor as much as that jacket was. And to say she still wasn’t kicking ass in S6 is a lie. She sacrificed her life so a child would get his life back. Being a hero & putting others first is a strength of character. It’s honorable. Again, I know that’s hard seeing that Regina was 100% focused on her own happy ending but Emma was different. She is a character worth emulating because of her goodness, love and willingness to fight for others.

MYTH: THE CHARMINGS' & HOOK'S LOVE WAS CONDITIONED ON HER BEING THE SAVIOR AND BEING WITH HOOK

You just don’t like that she wanted Hook & not Regina. It’s also complete fanon that Emma’s acceptance depended on her being the savior & loving a man. The Charmings were too cautious about her relationship with Hook to be forcing that on her. They wanted her to be happy & when they saw she was, they accepted him. Also Hook’s love wasn’t dependent on her being the savior. Remember the scissors? Hook kept those suckers because her life meant more to him than her title.

#cs hate debunked #anti neal cassidy #anti swanqueen #anti regina mils #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan #anti rumbelle #what the hell did that regina apologist just say

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unreadpoppy · 2 days

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Party Banter #2

Read on AO3

Part 1 here

Series summary: A bunch of short scenarios involving Minthara and Galatea, based on some of the party's in-game banter.

A/N: Pretend that Lae’zel’s combat romance scene happens in act 3 ok.

Warning: the beggining of this chapter is very steamy.

It was late at night, when Galatea sneaked off into her lover’s tent, making sure not to make much noise. Slowly getting in, she smiled, seeing that Minthara was already naked. While the rest of their companions had all gone to sleep, Minthara and Galatea’s activities were just beginning.

After all, tonight was the night that Minthara would finally debut her most recent acquisition.

She had first seen it when the group visited Sharess Caress. While the brothel itself paled in comparison to the ones at Menzoberranzan, the drow was intrigued by one obscured area of the establishment, hidden behind a curtain. Minthara momentarily left the group, and taking one peak behind inside, she soon found out what it was: a small shop, full of sexual objects on display.

As the vendor happily showed her their items, Minthara found one in particular to be of great interest. The object itself was made of a material she couldn't recognize but it was shaped like a cock, with its tip slightly tilted to the side. It was connected to a bunch of leather straps, of which the vendor was happy to show Minthara how to put it on.

When she reunited with the group, smirking, Galatea was quick to ask where she had gone off. Minthara’s reply was a simple “you’ll find out soon.”

And now, as the drow relentlessly pounded into her, Galatea grabbed the back of her neck, bringing her close, whispering “This is the best money you have ever spent” before kissing Minthara.

After they both finished, Minthara slowly dragged the phallic object out of her lover and laid next to her. The two were tired, staying on the ground as they regained their breath, when Galatea heard something.

She sat up, looking around.

“What’s wrong?” Minthara asked, frowning.

“I’m hearing a commotion outside” She stood up, taking a peak behind the tent’s opening. “Oh gods…” she whispered, turning her head towards Minthara. “You should see this.”

The drow stood up, a brow raised as she looked in the same direction as Galatea. Soon, Minthara was smirking.

“It seems we aren’t the only ones having fun tonight.”

…

Minthara, Lae’zel and Galatea had gone out to the city, to buy supplies for the oncoming fights. Usually, Shadowheart would have come along, as she was one of the few healers of the group but she woke up…undisposed. Tired, as she claimed, from a restless night.

The tiefling approached the gith, a mischievous look on her face. “So, Lae’zel…it seems you and Shadowheart have finally gotten over your little disagreements.”

The fighter took a deep breath. “That is none of your business.”

“Oh please, the tadpole connect us all. Hard to keep secrets.” Galatea said. “Just admit it, you found love too.”

Lae’zel shot her a murderous look, but before she could say anything, Minthara stepped in between them.

“Speaking of which'' she began “a few pointers, Lae’zel. I heard you and your lover locked in combat, but the test you set was not rigorous enough.”

The gith huffed. “As if you could come up with something better.”

Minthara only smirked. “Oh yes. A personal suggestion, if you will.” The drow briefly looked at Galatea before turning to Lae’zel again. “Next time, tie them to the ground, and do not release them until you are both satisfied.”

“Hm…you have given me ideas.” Lae’zel replied, smirking. She then chuckled as a very red faced Galatea picked up her pace, walking ahead, with Minthara sprinting after her.

#minthara bg3 #minthara baldurs gate 3 #minthara baenre #oc: galatea von dewilde #minthara x tav #minthara x galatea #lae'zel bg3 #mention of lae'zel/shadowheart #minthara centric #baldur's gate 3 #my writing #bg3 fanfic

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miss-celestia13 · 11 months

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Flesh & Blood

Dark Richy x Dark OFMC Smut

Aylin and Richy - Act III

A diamond ring. A new scam. An unexpected meeting in an alley brings out Aylin’s darkest self. For once, she is the needy one, and Richy knows how to help her.

TW: Sex after killing someone. They started it. Stabbing and blood. Bloodlust. As in, blood makes her want to fuck. Multiple orgasms. Wet and fucking messy. Just a bunch of shit that makes me feel mildly ashamed but proud at the same time. It’s supposed to be a dark comedy, okay 🤭

Can be read on its own but if you want the last two:

Run Towards the Monster

Kiss With a Fist

People Aylin wants to Kill or Maim.

1 - Jeremy - The hairdresser who cut her lovely hair off. Not his fault, but she hated him anyway. Those scissors looked mighty sharp, and she envisioned using them on a body part he’d sorely miss.

2 - Diane - Snobby Cow. She was much annoyed by Aylins presence at the hotel bar and put an end to her newest scam simply by watching her with those cataract-glazed eyes.

3 - Hayley - Hotel staff - Has an apparent crush on Richy. It pissed her off. He was hers. The marks on his neck clearly showed that. Visualizing shoving her face first into a shredder had kept Aylin calm enough to walk away.

4 - Gary - Loud mouth breather. He chewed with his mouth open. It was a shame she’d only ordered soup. Takes too long to kill with a spoon. Much too obvious in a crowded cafe.

5 - Richy - Sometimes, she enjoyed his company. He was mostly quiet but quite humorous at times. Often not on purpose, but still. Today he’d spent an inordinate amount of time styling his beard. Worst decision ever to tell him to grow it. She should add her own name to this list for that, actually.

Aylin

A restaurant was a regular, ordinarily dull thing. So commonplace, and every city they haunted was oversaturated by places to eat. Some had lines out the door and up the street. Those were consistently awful, and far too many people were filming on brand-new iPhones, blinding LED lights attached to them as they filmed every bite they ate. It sickened her, and she stayed clear of them. Then there were those hidden gems. The ones that were either highly expensive and the guest list so coveted people would sell their children for a reservation, or they were a hole in the wall, deceivingly nondescript, but the food… oh fuck her, the food was enough to commit many crimes just for a taste.

She found herself in the former type that night. Had fought tooth and nail to get the reservation that suddenly opened up, and her victory still excited her as she sipped on rich wine and stole breadsticks from Richy’s little basket since she’d already eaten hers. It was a risk bringing him here. But his beard had come in nicely after much complaining and death threats from her side when he wouldn’t. Stop. Bitching. She’d dyed his hair blacker than her soul to celebrate and brought him here. She had had to cut her own hair. Watching as the long thick strands fluttered from her head to the floor, lying there like cut-off octopus tentacles, had been a test of her violent nature. Jeremy had praised and complimented her “bravery” for such a dramatic change as he’d bleached her new blunt bob and turned her from a raven-haired vixen to a red-headed… she did not know what she was now. She felt like a cartoon character, and it had taken Richy spending hours between her thighs to convince her not to kill the hairdresser.

Wigs were an option. Expensive and tedious, itchy, and often looked too fake. So cutting and dying it was. If she ever came across that penthouse dickhead again, he was carrion. Forcing her violent thoughts away, she focused on the sun-warmed patio they were seated on. The setting sun painted the sky vibrant shades of purple, pink, and deepest amber. It would’ve been beautiful, she supposed. But she always preferred the witching hour. Like a weighted blanket, complete darkness had been thrown over the earth. Every sound was magnified, and yet the streets were empty, quiet. She could walk around with a knife up her sleeve and go fishing.

Not the type where old men dressed in flannel and rubber waders, sitting by the water and hoping for a bite. No, her fishing was more… hunting. A single woman out at night, walking through a park or alley, was the perfect way to attract the assholes and ingrates. Usually, they were drunk or high. Trying to cop a feel and convince her to let them raw dog her in the bushes, they’d try to make her when she refused. At least, that’s what they thought. They were usually left bleeding out, cockless, and unable to harm anyone that wasn’t her. It had been a couple of years since she’d last killed or maimed anyone. She missed it in the way people missed their friends or family.

The penthouse dickhead must have been too embarrassed to report her. She’d been checking every news site and social media for a report or mention of it. Nothing. So she had felt safe enough to bring Richy out after she’d stolen a lovely diamond ring one of her marks had kept in their room. She gave it to Richy before they left the hotel with strict instructions. Oh, how she loved a plan, a new scam to indulge in things they couldn’t afford but took anyway. He sat across from her, idly nibbling on his complimentary bread and subtly looking every time someone laughed or exclaimed their joy. The restaurant was mobbed. She was grateful to be outside, away from the loud chewers and heavy breathers.

Noise triggered her to want to harm. Chewing open-mouthed and talking through a mouthful of well-done steak was enough to have her planning their demise to calm herself down. There was a sense of society in these places. Food brought people together, and celebration meals were always loud affairs. A fact she counted on tonight, and a laugh kept bubbling up her throat while they waited for their entrées. The starter of soup hadn’t been enough to feed a hamster. But it had tasted like heaven, and since she’d never end up there, she enjoyed it. They had ordered steak for the main course. Richy had gone for medium well. She’d scoffed and called him an amateur. She’d ordered hers bloody. It had to look as if it had been happily chewing on grass in the back a moment before it was cooked and like a good vet could resuscitate it once it came to her table.

The waiter smiled brightly when they arrived and fawned over them, hoping for a hefty tip. She spied the steak knives and was glad she’d worn the jacket with the deep pockets. She dug in with relish once their waiter topped up their wine glasses. She barely had to cut it, it melted on her tongue, as garlic, pepper, and butter tantalized her mouth. The moan she made after that first mouthful was indecent, and Richy watched her steadily, shifting in his seat a little, and she knew her second dessert would be delightful. They were quiet as they ate; he was a neat diner. Tidy and calm as he worked through his meal, it was one of the reasons she enjoyed his company. He didn’t offend her unless she asked him to; he was considerate enough to let her do what she wanted and not constantly beg for updates. The only rule he had was no fucking, kissing, or touching any other man or woman. Unless he was there, then they could discuss how that would work.

It piqued her interest that one. How would it work with another in their unholy bed? They would have to tame it down to be palatable to someone else. Most people had kinks and dark desires. There was a limit with most. It was tedious looking for someone like them. And she wasn’t intrigued enough to go through the rigmarole of finding someone else. Richy kept up with her, and she ached in places she didn’t know she had and seemed to be permanently slick between her thighs. She hadn’t worn him out yet, wondered if it was possible as he watched her lick her knife, and his eyes went impossibly dark.

Once finished, she set down her fork, wiped the knife with her napkin, and inconspicuously hid it in her pocket. Richy chuckled as she did, shaking his head as she winked and shrugged.

“Can’t have too many knives.” She said after swishing a mouthful of red wine to clear her mouth of the herbs and garlic butter.

“You could sell them at this point,” he pointed out.

“Or play a wicked game of live voodoo doll.”

He choked, “Jesus Christ. You’re going to get me killed.”

Laughing, she agreed, “Probably. But it would be a glorious ending.”

He smirked at that, making heat flash up her center at the lack of fear in his eyes. Only desire shone there, like death at her hand would be worth it, and she felt similarly of him despite her pretense otherwise. She had to stop thinking like this in a public space. Her seat would be damp if she kept it up, and instead, she focused on the final act of their harmless scam.

“Did you tell them what I told you to?”

“Yes. Down to the letter. Have you been practicing your surprised face?” He teased.

“I shall win an Oscar for my performance; you better not ruin it,” she jested, only partly meaning it.

A gaggle of wait staff hurrying through the bustling restaurant with an elaborate chocolate dessert cradled in the leader’s hands caught her eye, and she swiftly looked away, watching as Richy straightened and donned a mask of realistic nervousness. She was highly impressed by it. She fiddled with the stem of her glass and schooled her features into calm indifference as the group of grinning idiots approached their table and circled them like a shiver of sharks around chum. Excited, expectant faces observed them as Richy launched into a speech so heartfelt she wondered which one of her romance books he’d read while hiding out. He waxed lyrically about the strength of their bond and how he hadn’t known who he could be until her. Some of them rang with truth, and it was enough to have tears in her eyes.

Not from pleasure or something soft, she wanted to laugh. Bit down on her tongue to keep it trapped inside as he rose from his chair and came around to her, dropping down on one knee as he pulled the blue box out of his suit coat. Don’t laugh! Don’t you dare fucking laugh! Suicide. Betrayal. Getting arrested! Dead puppies! Dead kittens! She chanted in her head as he opened the box, uttering those four words most women dreamed of and somehow managed to keep the false joyous surprise on her face. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as tears of dark humor trickled down her face. Thankfully, to anyone watching, she simply looked overwhelmed as Richy looked up at her earnestly like a goddamn golden retriever for her answer.

Her eyes were locked on the glittering diamond ring as she dropped her hands and beamed, “Yes! What took you so long?!”

She let Richy slide the ring on her finger as the staff exulted and rained congratulations on them like confetti. Richy kissed her much too gently just as she’d instructed. Before she knew it, they were alone and left to imbibe in the free champagne someone had left for them. They stayed long enough not to seem weird, and when Richy called for the bill, she had to smother a prideful smirk as he was told their meal had been covered by management. She shoved on her coat and stood, downing the last of the champagne, making her feel a bit lightheaded before following Richy out of the restaurant. She even let him hold her hand until they were out of sight of the many windows.

Richy was chuckling as he said, “I didn’t think that would actually work. I was preparing to wash dishes to pay for it.”

“It usually works. It never failed me before.”

They fell silent as they crossed the empty street and soon found the alley they could use as a shortcut. Her senses were sharp as they crept down the long corridor, not making it halfway before the silence was rudely interrupted. Stone skittered across the dark path, scuffing feet, and a sense of danger washed over her as Richy went rigid. Shushing him when he opened his mouth, she adopted a casual saunter. She grabbed his hand again, a silly giggle coming from her as he eyed her warily. They were over halfway through when their visitor showed himself. Scruffy and reeking of cigarette smoke and stale piss, he waved a knife at them, quietly ordering them to stop. It was funny. When the primitive brain takes over, and the prefrontal cortex was switched off, primitive things happened with permanent consequences. Her hand was in her pocket, wrapped around the smooth wooden handle of the blade she’d stolen as the man with cracked teeth and unkempt hair threatened them.

“Wallets and phones. Then you can leave.”

Aylin doubted he would honor his promise to let them go. He was too edgy.

Richy shoved her behind him, and she silently snarled at his back as he tried to reason with the unreasonable. Twitchy and frantic, the man sought his next hit of whatever drug he was besotted by. There was no reasoning with a crackhead. When his bargaining didn’t work, she sidled around him to stand at his side. He threw her a pissed-off look she promptly ignored as the man flashed his blade at her. Attempting for sultry and harmless, she moved closer until the tip of it pierced her skimpy dress and pricked her skin.

“I’m sure we can talk this out somewhere... less skanky.” She murmured, not meaning a word of it and watching as the man’s pinpoint pupils narrowed on her.

“I don’t want your pussy, bitch. I want your money,” He grumbled, pressing the knife harder into her until she felt her own blood dribble down her navel. Oh, fuck, she’d forgotten how incredible this felt.

Richy tried again to placate him, tossing his wallet to the ground at her feet. A thick red mist fell over her eyes, familiar and safe. The crackhead immediately dropped to his knees and grabbed it, and she rolled her eyes as he thumbed through the contents, and she moved so fast he had no chance to defend himself. Using all her strength, she punched that serrated steak knife through the man’s gut. It wasn’t as clean and easy as the movies made it seem. The pop of sinew and flesh as pressure did its thing was overly loud in the dead alley air. A squelching, crude noise as she rearranged his insides. His cut-off cries as the air was forced from his lungs, the warmth of his lifesblood as it coated her hand, and the fear pouring from him made her feel warm all over.

Death was always slow. She twisted the knife before shoving it down. Gutting him like a fish as blood splattered the ground like dropped rubies. Fresh piss joined the metallic scent of the blood, and she chuckled as he slumped. Gasping and choking as she slid the knife free of his innards and slashed it across his throat. The ragged wound was like a gruesome smile as his weak hands failed to stop the bleeding. The spray of hot blood on her face had destroyed any sense she had left. Suppressing a moan; she shivered and barely resisted stabbing him again. Her whole body was electrified. The parts of her that had long lay dormant sparked alive, and the cold night suddenly felt balmy and tropical. Her skin buzzed, and dark, dirty desire flooded her veins.

“Try dying quietly,” she crooned as the man fell back, stared through her, and moaned annoyingly.

“Fuck, Aylin! You could’ve gotten us killed... I forgot we had a weapon.” Richy muttered behind her.

She snorted, “More fool you, then. I didn’t forget.” But he recognized the look on her face, the lust riding her and making her carefulness turn to carelessness.

He nodded, and they moved decisively then. Grabbing the dead man’s arms as Richy grabbed his ankles, they dragged him behind the industrial bin. They dumped whatever rubbish they could find over top of him to hide him further. She was trembling, essence already trickling down her bare thighs, deliciously dark heat spread from her core up her torso and into her hollow chest. Richy wasn’t unaffected. Eyeing his thick length concealed by his black pants, she glanced around before taking his hand and dragging him into a darker alcove between two buildings. No one would come to see what the yelling had been about. They had chosen one of those cities where people minded their own and lamented, “How sad, why didn’t anyone call the cops?” The next day when the news came out. She didn’t let go of his hand, guided it under her dress so he could feel how badly she needed him to fuck her. He pinned her against the cold brick wall the second his fingers grazed her soaked flesh. He gave a dark, filthy chuckle as he shoved her underwear aside, plugged her with two long fingers to make her clutch at his jacket, and she whined impatiently. She was going to come too fast to satisfy her hunger.

He nipped at her ear as he moved those fingers within her taut heat, crooking and pulling as she tossed her head back. A torrent of wetness drenched his busy hand as he bit and marked her neck. When his thumb grazed her clit he had to kiss her hard, smothering the wild noise she was making. He seemed surprised at how reactive she was; she hadn’t been killed in a long time. Had forgotten how intensely it affected her and how addictive it was. As she had known, her orgasm was much too quick to sate her. Legs were trembling as she rode his hand, and he possessed her mouth. When he withdrew his fingers from her body, he looked appreciatively at her essence, coating them and pressing them to her gasping mouth. She sucked them in, cleaning herself off, and whimpered as his eyes darkened to burning coals, and she needed him now.

Reaching for his fly, she freed his hard cock and gave him a few lackluster strokes. Too mindless and intent on getting him inside as she put her back to him and planted her bloodstained hands on the wall. He caught on quickly, and her dress was soon rucked up around her waist, underwear left on again as she felt his cocks fat head at her dripping entrance. Tensing herself, he wrapped a hand around her neck. He forced himself past her resisting muscles, groaning in relief as her greedy cunt took all of him. She was still fluttering, still reeling by the strength of her desire, and knew neither would last long like this.

It wasn’t a comfortable position for him, he had to crouch to keep from slipping out of her, and he taunted her with slow thrusts to make her snarl and threaten him. His hand was choking her, making her vision spotty, and she was lightheaded as she pushed back to make him move. A savage bite on her shoulder, a squeeze of her throat, and his whispered words were enough to turn her vocal and demanding.

“How badly do you need me? Tell me, or I won’t give you what you want.” He smiled into her hair.

She whined at his next shallow movement, desperation making her needy. It was true she didn’t truly need him, could leave him after this and never look back. But right now? If her body didn’t get what it craved, she felt as if she would die. So, she pandered to his ego and gave him what he needed.

“I need you more than I need to breathe right now, Richy. Fuck me, please.”

A strange new thing was said then, and it was as if he’d pulled the pin from a grenade as the words settled into her lust-hazed mind.

“Good girl, you better hold on.” He growled and let go of her neck.

She didn’t have time to mourn the loss of his choking hold. He gripped her thigh mean and hoisted her leg up and behind, blunt nails digging in for leverage as he fucked her the way she liked. Her teeth bared, nails barking as she tried to cling to the stone wall. She bit down on her lip to keep the wail crawling up her throat trapped inside. Every lunge of his cock inside her hot cunt was a viciously beautiful torment. Every nerve felt exposed and alive, sparks flying as his low groans blended with her frantic panting. More, more, more. The refrain bleated in her mind like a damn warning bell, and she had never felt so good and yet so distraught at the same time that her body still wasn’t happy.

Richy sensed it. His taunting chuckle slid over her skin like black magic, raising the hairs on her nape and arms.

“You need to come again. Touch yourself.” He ordered, and she didn’t question it in her unhinged lustful madness.

Ungluing a hand from the wall, she dropped it between her legs as he readjusted his hold on her thigh and wrenched it farther back. The burn in her muscles only egged her on as her fingers slipped through the mess of her split folds to find that swollen bundle of nerves. Rust-scented blood drying on her skin, the deep thrusts Richy was punishing her with, and her own shaking fingers dancing around her clit almost killed her. It hit her like a freight train. He moaned deep and low as her inner walls clamped down on his cock. A ragged, raw scream exploded from her mouth under the force of it. A deluge of fire poured through her insides and boiled her blood as he chanted incoherently behind her and fucked her through it.

Her eyes were screwed shut, every pore on her skin splayed wide, and the sting of her tender flesh as he pushed her harder almost made her plead for him to stop. But her body was a traitor. It loved this sickening pleasure he could give her, wanted to drain him to the dregs and steal those too. She knew he felt like a God as she sobbed and struggled to fight off another orgasm. Unsure if she’d survive it or live down the shame of his victory. He knew, though, he always did. No matter how she fucked with him or teased him, he took it all and made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t for a very long time.

A destructive thing for someone like her. And for him. They didn’t truly love. They just fucked things up. And they obsessed and owned. Claimed and brutally manipulated the other until neither knew who they were. As he felt her flutter around his cock, wetness out of control as it seeped down her legs, and sex was all she could smell; she knew they’d leave a trail of bodies behind them after this if they weren’t careful. The animalistic side of them was too excited and already craved more. His bite on her shoulder may as well have been a wedding ring as she shattered into a million glistening pieces, never to be the same again.

The heat was all she knew. The burn between her thighs, the fiery ache in her overstretched muscles, and those raging embers in her core obliterated any sense she had left as he slammed home one last time. He buried his face in her neck, snapping teeth closing around her wild pulse as neither could keep hold of themselves. The ring on her finger mocked her when she finally opened her eyes and moaned at the feel of his come joining the mess on her thighs as he pulled out. She couldn’t move. Body locked in the pleasure still surging through it, and she knew she was still making noise but could not control it. Richy sounded far too pleased with himself as he roughly pulled her dress down.

“You’re a mess. I don’t know how we’ll get to our room without someone seeing.”

The smirk was evident in his tone, and she wanted to slap it away, but her needy body still wanted him. Growing tired of her silence and stillness, he gripped her shoulders and whirled her around, taking her mouth in a bruising kiss that did nothing to cool her down. Copper and death were sweet on his tongue, and she would have had him again there if he was able. Knew he was thinking the same as his tongue fought with hers, and he pushed a knee between her legs, encouraging her to grind down. This was insanity. It was utter nonsense and so ridiculously stupid that she couldn’t believe she was giving in to it.

Oh, but it felt too good. The friction was almost too much to bear; she was so over-sensitive. Pushing her body to its absolute limit had never happened. Her usual lovers required a gentle hand, maybe a tiny taste of the things she dreamed up in her haunted mind was okay, but most men were put off by it, and she took what she could get. Those times she could be free, and claw and tear, she still held back, not with Richy. With him, she could make him bleed and ache. And he enjoyed every second of it. It was new for her, and she wanted to keep it until their inevitable dramatic end. Karma had finally come calling for all her misdeeds and misadventures. And it really was a bitch determined to make her pay its evil toll even as she delighted in every second of it.

In that unlit alley, a dead man grew cold just a few yards away, and she had finally gotten a taste of what living could really be. Richy wrung her dry, mouth never ceasing as he nipped so hard she tasted her own blood and smiled against his mouth when he swiped over the hurt with his tongue. A savage growl of ownership rippled through his chest as he got a taste for blood. They were harmful to everyone around them and each other. Fatigue filtered into her muscles, and she knew she’d sleep like she was in a coma that night. But first, they had to return to their hotel and get out of town before anyone found the body. They had hours before daylight. Sleep would have to wait, and they parted with swollen lips, and his beard had scraped the skin around her mouth raw, but she was at last sated. She could think again and went into planning mode as they stumbled out of the alley and into the glow of the streetlights.

Racing back to the hotel on heavy feet, she told Richy to get to their room and get their stuff. She would wait in the car to not tip anyone off that they’d been up to no good. It wasn’t until they were on the road and she had wiped off most of the blood with some wipes Richy found that she gave in to the tiredness. Trust wasn’t something she had or gave. But she trusted he liked what he could take from her enough to get them to safety without her bossing him around. Her warning to him was the last thing either said until they were safe behind another hotel door.

“If you get us caught or killed, hell won’t stop me from coming after you.”

————————

Part four: Devil in Paradise

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glitchyvoice · 2 days

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Do you have any blorbos or ideas to share?

floodgates: open

yes!! i have a bunch of aus im working on though im assuming u mean cotl specific (the others are undertale/deltarune and homestuck related if theres any interest)

the main one im working on right now is fates twine, (which ill explain in more detail in a second) but i have two others. a pirate esque essentially dnd campaign au story which ive named tears in a bottle. im still figuring out designs for that one but nari is a critter the size of the lambs hand so thats funny. its called tears in a bottle cuz the lamb and the others in the pirate crew go to raid a lost city, and the statue in the middle of said city (which is of shamura. the bishops are all archfey in this au so theyre cool) is weeping golden tears into a bottle which contains nari. only the lamb can see these god tears and nari.

i also have ideas for a madoka magica x cotl au but i have no designs and not enough ideas to talk about it currently.

but then theres fates twine. fates twine ("fates twine binds the hearts of you and i" is the full name, fates twine is my shorthand) is a prequel au which starts when the old gods are still around, and out of the bishops only shamura has their crown. it explores what would happen if the lamb (who is named mara) found the red crown before nari could, and fought against their ascension. they actually meet nari when hes still a mortal because of this and they become friends. shenanigans ensue. (narinders name as a mortal here is paean. i thought it would be cool to link him to the demon he always becomes in game) i have a bunch planned and have like 4,000 words worth of scenes written for it. but they're all for different parts of the fic so it's not currently postable. the closest image i have for mara around the time they find the crown is this little sketch for a scene i made

they dont typically wear the crown they usually have it as a ring on their finger to hide they have it but for that scene they do.

this is a bit of an older design and artstyle but this is mara when theyre a bit older. this is. the only coloured drawing i have of them rn but im gonna work on more soon.

this is their current design at that age. the other lamb there is omen, their little sister. i have a whole page of doodles of her that im gonna post tomorrow probably. shes one of my favourite fates twine characters i love her sm lolol

and these are sketches of mara post them becoming a cult leader!! so yeah nari does still get the crown and ascend instead of them eventually and they become the last lamb and all that but its about the interesting things that them being the true god of death causes. so yeah. you also get one (1) paragraph draft snippet of the first chapter bc im feeling silly

so yeah!! yap over

#glitchyanswers #glitchyvoices his (dumb) thoughts #cotl #cult of the lamb #cotl au #cotl lamb #my art #cotl fanfic #fatestwine #fatestwine mara #fatestwine omen #fatestwine paean #cotl fanart

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c2-eh · 1 year

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I have little prompt! Carlos being really possesive over Charles? Like 'okay, you can talk with (put here other driver's name) but he can't touch you like that'

thank you for the prompt anon <33 i left it in my drafts for too long for no reason which was stupid but it's here already. hope you enjoy <3

Hot jealousy flaring through Carlos' veins was not something he expected to feel on this Friday afternoon.

Usually, all he felt was buzzing in his muscles, because of anticipation and slight nervousness before practice. Carlos always felt a little uneasy. Yes, he's been in Formula 1 for 7 years, but that doesn't change a fact that he would like to be as safe, and pretty much whole, after every second spent in the car.

Now, between the two practices, that take time every friday of race weeks, Carlos does not feel restless or nervous at all.

He's standing, leaned against the Ferrari garage, watching Charles chatting with Pierre animatedly. His arms are flying around, indicating he is talking about something interesting.

Charles only talks like this when he knows the other side is interested and knows he can trust them. He is reserved with people he does not know that well — too keen on keeping his good image. Carlos does not blame him for it. Being a professional athlete, under a scrutizing eye of so many people, takes its toll on you.

His bracelet adorned wrists fly out and Carlos can see Pierre tipping his head back, while he laughs loudly — the high pitched and loud laugh Carlos knows very well, having heard it around paddock too many times.

It means Charles probably said something funny.

Even though Carlos knows people mostly laugh at what Charles says just because he is famous f1 driver, this is Pierre. He never spares Charles with fake laughter or nice words. He is always direct and disses Charles (affectionately) on every occasion he gets.

Many times, Pierre brings up things that make Charles blush so deeply, Carlos thinks the red colour might stay imprinted on his cheeks forever. Often it's something Carlos has no knowledge of happening, but the truth is, Charles is not obligated to say everything that happens or had happened to him in his life before.

Smile spreads across Carlos' face as he watches Charles' body shaking with his signature laugh. He can clearly imagine his scrunched up face with his eyes creasing at the sides and his pearly white teeth peeking from under his lips.

But what Carlos loves the most are his dimples. Deep and present every time Charles widens his lips into a smile. He can't even remember how many times he has run his thumbs across them, pushing the pad of his finger into the little dent on his cheek.

Carlos stops paying attention to the rustling behind him and focuses his full attention on Charles. He knows he looks like a smitten idiot, but after too many articles calling him out for being too in love with Charles, he stopped paying attention. Before, he had been reading all of them.

To be honest, maybe he would read them, if they didn't accuse him of dating Charles only for the racing benefits, which is as far from truth as it could be.

But that is the story for another day.

Carlos' brown eyes track his boyfriends' moves in loving manner, soft smile playing on his lips.

But as fast as his smile appeared, it was wiped off his face just as quickly. Carlos sees as the long slender fingers find their place on Charles' waist, the other hand moving up and down his arm.

Carlos watches the fabric of Charles' fireproofs bunch up on his right shoulder, as Pierre's hand moves the fabric up, more forcefully than intended.

Still leaned against the building, although only by one shoulder now, so he could get a better view on his boyfriend, Carlos' brows furrow even deeper.

He didn't even realize he was doing it.

Carlos is not stupid. He knows Charles and Pierre are friends. Best friends even, but his possessive streak likes to make itself present at the worst possible times.

This probably wouldn't be that much of a problem if it was anyone else, but Charles told Carlos about the fling with Pierre from when they were younger. Cue why he feels so uneasy now.

He is not insecure, no. But Carlos knows how deep bonds with long time good friends can run. He's had his own fair share of it.

Without really acknowledging what he's doing, he's marching towards both of them. Charles has no chance of seeing him, considering he has his back turned towards him.

Carlos hopes at least Pierre will notice him, but no. He only sees French tightening his palm further down on Charles' shoulder.

Pierre notices him last minute, moving away, but not without ruffling Charles' hair in the process. Carlos sends him a death glare, before his arms find their place around Charles' waist.

"Hi," Carlos whispers into Charles' ear, kissing his neck. At first, he only leaves a quick peck at the juncture of his neck, before he moves down his shoulder, his fingers pulling the fabric of the top of his fireproofs away, for better acces.

And god, Charles' skin is so warm and smooth, Carlos want to bury his face into it every day and every minute of his life. He trails soft kisses along his shoulder and back up to his neck, not caring about the photographers "hidden" behind the buildings and the banners around the paddock.

"Ah, hello baby," Charles responds, his hands finding their place on Carlos' forearms. His fingers dance around Carlos' arms, moving up and down as he plays with the hair on his arms.

Carlos nudges Charles' jaw with his nose, wordlessly telling him what he wants from him.

Charles lifts his head with a smile on his face, the damn dimples on both of his cheeks. Carlos connects their lips, kissing him slowly at first, before he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the seams of his lips and then licking into his mouth.

"Oooh-kay, I think this is my cue to leave," Carlos hears Pierre say, awkward chuckle accompanying his sentence.

The way Charles immediately moves his head away does not sit right with Carlos, but he lets it slide.

It's only Pierre.

After quick – and overly heartfelt goodbye – Charles finally twists in Carlos' hold and puts his arms around Carlos' neck.

"So what was this about?" he asks, smirk on his lips.

"He can't touch you like that," Carlos blurts out, forgoing the stupid excuses like 'i have no idea what you're talking about' or 'nothing'. Charles knows him too well, either way he would figure out something was wrong.

"Pardon?" Charles lifts one eyebrow, but Carlos does not let himself be distracted by that.

"He shouldn't touch you like that. I don't know if you realize how touchy he is, or how close his hands are to your ass, but sometimes it bothers me," Carlos averts his gaze away from Charles' eyes, looking behind him at the green Aston Martin logo couple feet away.

Before Charles has a chance to say something, Carlos speaks up again, "I know it's unfair to say this, but you are mine. I am the only one allowed to touch you intimately. My hands are the only ones allowed to feel every inch of your skin. He runs his hand through your hair, caresses his fingers around your waist and I-" he cuts himself off and squeezes Charles' waist.

Is he overthinking? Probably yes, but he cannot help it.

"Mon beau, I only wanna feel your hands on my body and they are the only ones I need. I know you are a jealous idiot, but I only love and need you," playfull tone in Charles' voice makes Carlos smile and he can't stop himself from pecking him on both cheeks.

"I love you," the kiss they share is heated, but also decent enough for all the cameras following them and peeking from around every corner, "but you are still mine, baby. I will fight everybody and everyone for you. I love you."

"I love you too, mon amour."

#send me more promtps #i need to learn how to write more with less words #and tumblr prompts are perfect for that #although.... this is kinda long #charlos ficlet #eva writes #charlos

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sagemonsters · 10 months

Text

Bargain with the Leshy

Summary: Aiden Finch is a journeyman witch, newly arrived in the Forest of Silence to complete his compendium of magical plants and their uses. However, the most elusive plant he wants to examine only grows in a leshy’s secluded home, and said leshy isn’t in the mood to entertain visitors. How much (and what exactly) is Aiden willing to give in exchange for completing his herbal?

Relationship: cis male human (he/him) x cis male leshy (he/him)

Rating: E for explicit

Word Count: 4,900

Content Tags & Warnings: mild alcohol consumption (no drunkenness), heats/ruts, use of aphrodisiacs, size difference

Chapter 1 of 1

Common Witchwort, also known as Eastern Hagweed and Old Mother’s Fingers, is a deciduous shrub that grows in the undergrowth of temperate forests, especially those composed primarily of beech. Its range includes the Kingdom of Beldane, the Eastern Marches, and the northern half of the Principality of Orthoc. Its long, narrow, waxy leaves terminate in sharp points, and are covered with…

“Rowenna?” Aiden called from the cottage’s study. “What is it when leaves have little… you know, those little cuts in them?”

“A reason to buy my home-brewed insecticide,” the farm-witch called back. Something clattered loudly in the kitchen where she worked, and was followed by a bout of impassioned swearing.

Aiden huffed. “No, no, I mean… like, when they grow that way. Crenelations?”

“That’s city walls. No! It’s fenestrations.”

“Thanks!” Aiden called back, and returned to his writing—or tried to, anyway.

“Are you going to remember to wash the dishes tonight?” Rowenna asked.

“Yes! I promise!”

“You said that last night.”

Aiden winced guiltily at the page in front of him, then made a face as a fat drop of ink dripped from the nib of his dip pen and splattered onto the paper, obscuring a quarter of the paragraph he had just written on the latest entry to his herbal.

That’s enough for today, he thought, and then wiped the pen clean of ink before stoppering the inkwell. Aiden got up and stretched, then went to help Rowenna salvage dinner.

The farm-witch’s glare softened as Aiden rolled up his sleeves and started peeling the potatoes and carrots for tonight’s beef stew. She poured him a glass of red wine to match the one sitting beside her on the cutting board, and Aiden sipped it from time to time as the pile of peelings grew in the bowl beside the sink.

“How’s the book coming along?” she asked.

“Slowly,” Aiden answered. “I still need to find the eastern variant of the salacious white-leafed osier.”

Rowenna snorted. “That sure was a string of words.”

“Please don’t ask me to try and pronounce the scientific name; I’m already doing my best.”

The farm-witch snickered, then took the peeled carrots and potatoes and dumped them into the heavy stock pot alongside the onions, herbs, and browned pieces of beef. She added the beef broth and a good bit of the wine, then covered the pot with its lid, slid it into the oven with a soft grunt of exertion, and set the timer for four hours.

“And now, we wait,” she announced.

“So, I take it you haven’t heard of the salacious white-leafed osier?” Aiden asked.

Rowenna rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I mean, I read Gray Anise’s journals when I inherited this cottage from her. She was a true botanist-witch, unlike me, and I remember reading a bunch of funny long names in them. Wait a… what does ‘salacious’ mean?”

Aiden pushed his glasses up his nose. “Inciting sexual desire,” he answered. “There’s a legend about this particular osier—or willow, if you prefer a layman’s terms—that if you chew the leaves immediately prior to intercourse then you’re guaranteed to have twin children.”

Rowenna, a farm-witch who preferred the babies she dealt with to be fuzzy quadrupeds, wrinkled her nose. A moment later, however, the expression cleared. “Oh!” she exclaimed, and snapped her fingers. “I think I read something about a similar legend in the journals.”

Aiden’s gaze sharpened upon her. “May I read them?” he asked. “I know I’m only visiting and don’t have a right to your predecessor’s knowledge—“

Rowenna waved a permissive hand. “All fifteen volumes are in the attic. Go! You’ve got plenty of time before dinner.”

Aiden thumped up the stairs to the trapdoor leading to the attic. Four and a half hours later he emerged, covered in dust and bits of cobweb but smiling from ear to ear. “I found it!” he announced. “It grows here! Here, in the Forest of Silence! I need to go and get a specimen as soon as possible…” He started moving toward the coat rack in the foyer.

“Oh no you don’t!” Rowenna said. “This is my cottage, and as your host I demand that you eat dinner with me like a civilized witch before you go traipsing through the woods. It’s already dusk, anyway; you should wait until tomorrow.”

Aiden shook his head. “Can’t,” he said, but nevertheless allowed his feet to bring him back to the kitchen. He sat down at the table, and Rowenna put a bowl of stew and a spoon in front of him. “I need to test this legend to see if it’s true or not, and old Anise’s journals say that the leaves are most potent at night beneath the full moon.”

“Moon’s a waning gibbous tonight, Aiden,” Rowenna pointed out, and mopped up some of her own stew with the heel from a loaf of homemade bread.

Aiden did the same with the other heel, but clearly didn’t taste what he put into his mouth; his mind was elsewhere. “I’m not waiting an entire month," he said. “If gibbous is as good as it gets, then so be it. I need to go tonight.”

Rowenna sighed. “Where in the forest are you planning to go, anyway? It’s gonna be hard to find a single tree out there.”

“Anise wrote that there was a grove of salacious white-leafed osiers along the shore of Starfall Lake. So, I’ll go there,” Aiden said between spoonfuls of stew.

Rowenna froze. “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because the leshy lives near that lake,” Rowenna said, and put down her spoon.

“Is it dangerous?” Aiden asked.

“He,” Rowenna corrected. “He’s not dangerous unless he wants to be, but he’s very… well, callous, I guess you could say. He guards the Forest of Silence from threats. Anise knew him, and he came to visit the cottage once to pay his respects and welcome me as the new witch in this neck of his woods, but… look, Anise always said that leshen in the springtime should be avoided, and it’s May now.”

“Did she say why they were to be avoided?” Aiden pressed.

“No,” Rowenna admitted. “But—”

“I’ll take my chances,” Aiden said, and got up to wash his empty bowl in the sink. “Thank you for dinner, Rowenna. I’ll come back before dawn.”

“I sure hope you do,” the farm-witch muttered, and drank the last mouthful of wine straight from the bottle as Aiden left through the front door.

⬤

This far north, the wind that clattered the newly-leafed branches against each other overhead still carried the barest echo of winter’s bite. Aiden wore his coat and carried a lantern (and had a spare flask of oil in his rucksack, along with his watercolors, field notebook, pencils, witch-knife, a piece of apple cake, and other necessary oddments) whose flame more nibbled at the edges of the night than truly pushed back the darkness.

The botanist-witch startled when his familiar, the short-eared owl who had adopted the name Irk, alighted on the leather pad that Aiden wore over his left shoulder.

“Still chasing leaves and flowers rather than rats and squirrels?” the owl asked.

“Yes,” Aiden answered, and ducked under a branch.

“I was listening outside the window,” Irk continued. “I can guide you to Starfall Lake, but there is a leshy there and I don’t know if he wants visitors right now.”

“I’m not going to barge into his home without observing the proper courtesies, don’t worry.”

“From the air, the leshy seemed… unsettled by something. I don’t know if the proper courtesies will be enough,” Irk warned, and then took off.

With the owl’s guidance, Aiden traversed the darkness of the Forest of Silence. He encountered no wolves or bears newly woken from hibernation, although he did startle a doe and her two fawns from sleep in a clearing along the way. His feet ached by the time he reached the area close to Starfall Lake, and here he slowed—but not out of weariness. Instead, the botanist-witch reached out his hand and touched the trunk of an ancient maple.

This place was rife with wild magic; if Aiden hadn’t been told of the leshy’s presence beforehand, he would have suspected that a dryad or a spriggan resided nearby. However, the rituals for a witch to seek permission to enter an immortal forest-being’s home turf were largely the same across species: Aiden knelt on the dew-damp ground, set his lantern down beside him, and got out the piece of apple cake in its little basket from his rucksack. He placed the offering in front of him and waited.

And waited.

The lantern flame guttered low after what could have been minutes or hours. Aiden reached for the flask of oil to refill it before it went out entirely.

“You won’t be needing that,” a voice rasped. It didn’t sound human, although it wasn’t Irk’s voice by any stretch of the imagination. Aiden turned and watched as a shape detached itself from a clump of shadow and approached.

“Good evening,” Aiden whispered to the leshy.

If he had been standing up straight, the leshy would have been at least seven feet tall, with a rack of antlers adding another foot and a half to that height. As it was, even while crouching his presence was intimidating. His face was bare, white bone, and in the uncertain lamplight Aiden couldn’t tell if it was a mask or his actual body. Either way, that bone terminated in a wolf-like muzzle full of fangs. The rest of the leshy reminded Aiden of someone who had embraced lupine lycanthropy, although minus the tail of the hybrid form: bulging muscles, clawed hands, dark gray fur, and only a ragged leather loincloth for clothing.

“What brings you to my home during the spring rut?” the leshy demanded.

Aiden blinked. Several thoughts went through his mind very quickly, such as but ruts happen in the autumn and oh THIS is what Rowenna meant about not visiting leshen in the springtime and finally am I in danger? His eyes darted to the leshy’s leather loincloth, where the shadows of the night and the leshy’s own hunched-over form did good work of concealing a massive erection; Aiden would never have noticed it if he hadn’t thought to look a second time.

“Spring is a difficult time for me, witch,” the leshy rasped. He must have seen Aiden looking, and Aiden dragged his eyes away with a guilty start. “There are no other leshen for a hundred leagues in any direction, and no resident of the forest wants to satisfy my needs. Speak your business and go before my patience runs dry.”

Aiden licked his suddenly dry lips. “I’m a witch—a guest of Rowenna’s—and I’ve come searching for a particular tree: the salacious white-leafed osier.”

The leshy scratched his jaw. “The willows with white leaves?” he asked. “Why? Are you impotent?”

Aiden felt his face heat in a blush. “No! I’m a botanist. I’m writing a book about every single magical plant species in the world, and some of the fungi.”

“Interesting,” the leshy said, although he didn’t sound particularly interested at all, and took the slice of apple cake from its basket. It was ridiculously tiny in his massive, clawed hand. He opened his fang-filled mouth—and that was definitely his actual body, not a mere mask of bone—and ate it in one bite.

“May I take some leaves from your willows?” Aiden asked, desperately trying not to glance at the loincloth again. He had never met a leshy before, but none of his past reading about the species had indicated they were mind-readers—which was very fortunate given the thoughts he now struggled to repress.

“What are you planning to do with them?” the leshy asked in return, dragging Aiden’s mind back to the task at hand. He circled around Aiden like a predator considering a trapped and wounded elk, his eyes glowing bloody red in the hollows of his bone-face.

Aiden shrugged with desperate nonchalance. “There’s a bit of folklore about how, if one chews the leaves of the salacious white-leafed osier prior to intercourse, then a pregnancy of twins is guaranteed—so, I’m going to chew some and find out how much of it is true.”

The leshy’s bone-face was unreadable as he passed in front of Aiden. “Why would you do that if you’re here alone? Can you become pregnant?” He leaned closer to the botanist-witch, his eyes burning like coals. “Don’t tempt me by saying you’re searching for a partner for this… experiment of yours.”

Aiden blushed again, and dug his nails into his palms to fight back a shiver of anticipation he knew would never—could never—be satisfied. He hoped the motion went unnoticed. “No, but there’s bound to be some kind of effect, and I want to find out what it is.”

“I see,” the leshy said. He backed off, and there was a pause where he carved deep grooves in the soft earth with his clawed hands in what might have been annoyance or frustration with his condition. “The white leaves of that willow are a powerful aphrodisiac if they’re fresh—and the moon is almost full now, too. You’d be humping every other rock and tree on your way home if you did this, witch.”

Aiden nodded. “How long does the effect last?”

“That varies depending on the moon phase, time of day, and of course the body of the person chewing the leaves,” the leshy pointed out.

Aiden thought for a moment, and his heart started to beat harder in his chest as the realization sank in: “I’m going to have to try it myself, then.”

The leshy gave a full-body shudder at that statement, then growled. “No,” he said. “I forbid it. Come back when the spring is over and I won’t be so tormented by watching you stumble through the forest like a sex-crazed March hare.”

“I can’t come back next season,” Aiden said. He pushed his glasses up his nose and tried not to glare at the leshy in the feeble, guttering lantern-light. “I only have another week with Rowenna before I need to leave the Forest of Silence to find and document all of the fungi in the southern half of the Dragonspine Mountains. I need to study the salacious white-leafed osier and its magical properties as soon as possible—i.e. now.”

The leshy’s eyes burned a brighter, angrier scarlet, and he lunged forward and snapped his massive jaws mere inches from Aiden’s throat. The human flinched.

“Don’t test me, witch,” the leshy snarled. “My patience is finite—especially during this time of year. Leave now.”

“What if I helped you with your rut?” Aiden blurted.

The leshy froze.

“You said the leaves are a powerful aphrodisiac,” Aiden continued quickly. “I’ll try them, and we can… make love, I suppose.”

“It’s not ‘making love’ during the rut, witch,” the leshy said. “It’s just fucking, pure and simple. You don’t know what you’re bargaining for.”

“I know you wouldn’t deliberately hurt me, and I need to know about this tree in order to complete my herbal. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The lantern flame went out.

Aiden’s breath hitched as the leshy’s eyes burned with an entirely different kind of frustration than before. Those eyes were the only light he could see in the forest around him.

“What makes you so sure I wouldn’t hurt you?” the leshy asked, his voice a low rasp in the darkness. The eyes moved as he resumed pacing around the human, and Aiden followed them with his own gaze.

“Just a feeling,” Aiden whispered, but it sounded silly even in his own ears. “Let me relight the lan—”

“No,” the leshy said. “If you truly want to get fucked tonight, then we won’t do it under human terms. This is my home, witch; I make the rules. Get up.”

Aiden stood.

The eyes came closer, and a clawed hand fastened around his arm and led him through the darkness. The waning gibbous moon overhead didn’t provide as much light as Aiden had hoped; filtered through the trees as it was, the moonlight mostly just highlighted different pools of shifting shadow. Eventually, though, Aiden heard the lapping of tiny wavelets against a pebbled shore: they had reached Starfall Lake.

“The willow is in front of you,” the leshy rasped, his breath hot against Aiden’s ear. He must have been behind the witch.

Aiden reached out, and his hand encountered a slender, drooping withy covered with long, narrow leaves that had a not-quite-fleshy texture to them—like sage leaves, almost, but a little more succulent. A faint, vaguely minty smell lingered in the air here; Aiden wondered if it came from the plant.

Clawed hands settled on his shoulders. “Lost your courage?” the leshy asked.

“No,” Aiden replied, and stripped a handful of leaves from the withy. He squeezed them in his hands, bruising the foliage, and the minty smell intensified—so, the scent definitely came from the leaves. He brought one leaf to his mouth as the clawed hands reached around and began undoing the buttons of his coat. The first leaf was bursting with juice and made his tongue tingle as he chewed, and he shrugged the coat off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground at his feet.

“It will be more potent if you swallow it,” the leshy said.

“Is that a hint?” Aiden asked.

“Perhaps.”

Aiden swallowed the first leaf and started chewing the second. He shivered as the wind knifed through his shirt, and let out a small, surprised noise as the leshy pressed up against his back. The creature’s skin and rough fur were hot against Aiden’s own body, and he felt the insistent press of the leshy’s heavy, throbbing arousal against his lower back.

“Before we go any farther,” Aiden said around the leaf in his mouth, “is there a name I can call you?”

The leshy thought for a moment, rubbing his clawed hands up and down Aiden’s arms. “Marek,” he said eventually. “I killed a man named Marek once, when he came to my forest wanting to cut down far more trees than he needed. His name is mine now, as are his bones.”

Aiden jerked his head in a nod and swallowed the second leaf. “Marek,” he murmured, tasting the syllables. “Sounds good. I like it.”

The leshy huffed. “You don’t need to like it,” he grumbled, but he sounded pleased anyway.

Aiden chewed and ate a third leaf. He didn’t feel any immediate changes in his body or thoughts, but that meant little; the aphrodisiac probably needed time to take effect. For now, he leaned back against the leshy—Marek, apparently—and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“I’m surprised you’re being affected so quickly,” Marek mused, and took Aiden’s chin in his hand to tip his head back for the oddest kiss that Aiden had ever experienced. The leshy’s tongue was large, long, and flexible, and Aiden moaned in appreciation as Marek fucked it in and out of Aiden’s mouth. The smooth and slick length of the tongue delved deeper, so that Aiden was all but deepthroating it. He lapped his own tongue along the underside and bobbed his head, tasting a faint sourness, and felt Marek’s other hand curl possessively over his hip.

Aiden was breathing hard by the time they broke apart, his lips swollen and slick and his blood rushing to his quickening arousal. “It hasn’t affected me yet,” the botanist-witch insisted. “I just wanted to do this ever since I saw your cock.”

Marek chuckled—a low, dark sound that made Aiden shiver—and said: “You seemed far too proper to use that word, witch.”

“I say what I want,” Aiden retorted, and the shirt joined the pile of fabric that the coat had started. He kicked off his boots, and was about to start on the fly of his pants when he remembered to say: “Oh! My name’s Aiden, by the way.”

“I will remember it,” Marek promised. “Now, show me what you want.”

Aiden sank to his knees in front of the leshy, working his fly open one-handed as his other hand stroked the leshy’s cock, which was much thicker than he had expected. Aiden gave the tip a small lick, tasting warm, bitter pre-cum, and Marek had another full-body shudder in response. His own cock twitched in the confines of his briefs.

“This is what you want, witch? You want to suck the monster’s cock?”

Aiden looked up at the leshy’s burning eyes. “You did say the willow would be more potent if I swallowed,” he pointed out, and the leshy groaned.

He leaned forward and swirled his tongue around the head, then hollowed his cheeks and sucked. Marek let out a ragged breath above him, and a moment later a massive hand came to rest on top of Aiden’s hair, the claws ever so lightly scratching against his scalp. Aiden hummed in approval and cupped the leshy’s balls with both hands, lightly massaging the heated weight of them. The fur here was short and surprisingly soft, almost downy. The claws stopped their gentle pressure, and Marek’s grip on his head firmed as the leshy gave a light but insistent shove to move Aiden’s mouth down his cock.

“Don’t play games with me,” the leshy growled.

Aiden made a noise that hopefully sounded apologetic, then got to work in earnest. He relaxed his jaw, then took as much of the leshy’s cock as he could into his throat. Marek snarled in approval, his hips twitching with the barely-restrained urge to thrust. Aiden bobbed his head as he breathed carefully through his nose. The leshy’s scent was very strong here, a heady primal mix of sweat and carnivore musk that made Aiden push his briefs down his thighs. A hot, needy ache grew somewhere inside his pelvis, and if he could just slake it with a few strokes of his hand…

Marek used his clawed hind foot to pull Aiden’s hand away from his underwear. “You can cum when I fuck you, witch,” the leshy said, “but not before.”

Aiden’s whine of protest went ignored by the leshy. Still, the human liked the idea of Marek fucking him; his own cock twitched again as he imagined the long, girthy cock in his mouth stretching his hole. He clenched around nothing, suddenly feeling horrifically empty, and took the leshy a little deeper into his throat. He was almost at his limit, but surely he could take just a bit more…

The twitches of Marek’s hips grew into shallow thrusts that Aiden struggled not to choke around. The head of the leshy’s cock hit the back of his throat again and again until Aiden gagged in earnest and tried to pull back. For a few moments, Marek held his head in place, and then the leshy relented and allowed Aiden to suckle the head of his cock. The human tongued at the slit repeatedly as the leshy growled and shook above him, and Aiden used one hand to stroke the rest of Marek’s cock as his other hand fondled the leshy’s heavy balls. He wondered what Marek’s cum tasted like. He wondered if he would get to taste it. He wondered if he would get to cum himself—because he needed to, he really, really needed—

“Enough,” Marek gritted out, and Aiden pulled off of him.

Aiden sat back and wiped his mouth on his arm. “What now?” he asked, voice breathless and hoarse as he stared up at the leshy’s burning eyes in the darkness. He squirmed on the ground, desperate for friction.

“Now I fuck you properly,” Marek said. His head cocked to the side above Aiden. “If you’re ready.”

Aiden snapped his fingers, causing a fat green spark to flare from his fingertips. It dissolved into nothingness, and when the last vestiges of its glow were gone the botanist-witch nodded. “I’m clean now, yes,” he said.

Marek chuckled. “I like that you can do that so quickly,” the leshy said. “On your back; I want to watch your face while I fuck you.”

Aiden laid back on top of his coat and shirt, kicked off his pants and briefs, and splayed his legs open. “Am I that pretty to you?” he teased, smiling up at the burning red eyes above him.

“Pretty enough,” Marek answered. “Don’t get ideas.”

“I’ll try not t—” Aiden began, then cut himself off when the blunt head of the leshy’s cock pressed against his hole. He lifted himself up and tried to hook his ankles around the creature’s furry neck, but Marek was too tall. Aiden settled for bracing his feet against the leshy’s muscular chest, and then shivered at the burn of penetration that crackled up his spine like an electric charge. A clawed hand curled around his neck, the pressure gentle for now, and another held down the arm of his dominant hand to preemptively stop Aiden from reaching for himself. He frowned, but didn’t have time to dwell on the restraint.

“Enjoying yourself?” Marek asked, then made an experimental thrust. Aiden gave a shallow gasp and nodded, and the leshy growled in what might have been approval and quickened his pace. Aiden whimpered and squirmed underneath him; Marek’s cock was big, sliding along the knife’s edge of being too long and girthy for Aiden to take without a significant amount of time and lube to prepare himself, and the pleasure that sparked along his nerves was a hair's breadth away from pain.

Marek bent over Aiden, and that long tongue licked along the angle of the witch’s jaw. Aiden shuddered as the leshy’s thrusting grew more insistent, and the hand at his throat was replaced by the damp pressure of a mouth that was full of fangs.

“Please,” Aiden whispered as he let his head fall back, baring his throat even further.

Marek pulled away long enough for a question: “Please what?”

“More,” Aiden gasped. “Harder.”

The leshy chuckled. “Looks like the willow has taken effect,” he said, and Aiden could only nod as those teeth returned to his throat. The hot, aching pressure inside Aiden was building toward its crescendo, and Aiden could do nothing to stop it or help it along while in the leshy’s grasp. Marek bit down, gently enough not to break the thin skin over the human’s throat but hard enough that Aiden let out an involuntary hiss of instinctive fear.

Marek pulled away again. “Careful, Aiden,” he crooned in mock-concern, “You wouldn’t want my teeth to slip…”

“N-no,” Aiden managed. “That would be… bad…”

“It would be,” Marek agreed, and licked the spot he had bitten. The gesture was neither apology nor comfort. Aiden whimpered again and bucked his hips against the leshy’s cock, trying to move in time with Marek’s thrusts.

“You’re very flexible,” the leshy observed, and then his voice lowered to a growl. “Maybe I should keep you here for my own use every spring—keep you drugged and needy with white-leaf willow so that you can’t think of anything but having my cock inside you.”

Aiden could only moan loudly in agreement. Marek changed the angle of his thrusts, and his cock hit a spot inside Aiden that made the human’s back lift into a dramatic arch. Delicious fire engulfed Aiden’s nerves, burning away any and all thought except the exquisite pleasure rushing through him—but it wasn’t quite enough. The leshy laughed again as Aiden whined insistently underneath him, and then he acquiesced to the human’s wordless demand and fucked him at a grueling pace.

Maybe it was the willow, or maybe that Aiden hadn’t had sex in almost a year as he had worked obsessively on his herbal, but he was already getting close. The human’s cock smeared beads of pre-cum against his inner thigh from where it brushed against the skin there, hot and aching with need. Aiden reached for it without thinking, and the leshy immediately and remorselessly pinned his hand to the ground.

“I—I need—” Aiden tried to protest.

Sharp claws trailed lightly down the column of the human’s exposed throat. “You’ll need what I tell you to need,” the leshy whispered, voice rough and panting. His burning eyes seemed to fill Aiden’s entire world in the darkness beside the lake. “And right now I need you to cum for me. You’ll tighten up around me so good when you cum. Be good for me, Aiden.”

The leshy’s voice tipped the witch over the edge. Aiden keened as his orgasm rushed through him like a wildfire through a dry meadow, an inferno that engulfed him in sizzling pleasure centered on his spurting cock.

Above him, Marek snarled in approval, and the leshy’s thrusts grew frantic and harsh. His claws dug into Aiden’s arm, and he leaned down to grip the human’s neck in his jaws, his teeth leaving indents in the soft flesh there. Aiden clung to him, his fingers tangling in the leshy’s fur and pressing hard into the muscled hide beneath. He writhed as Marek pressed himself as deep as he could inside Aiden and spent himself.

It took Aiden a small eternity to come back to himself. The willow still affected him: his erection hadn’t fully abated, and he caught himself sighing in regret as Marek pulled out of him and left him empty.

“Miss me already?” the leshy asked.

“Somewhat,” Aiden admitted. “That was… really good.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet,” Marek said. “This is the spring rut; I’ll be ready to fuck you again in… eh, ten minutes or so.”

Aiden sat up, his arousal momentarily forgotten. “Ten minutes?” he demanded.

Marek chuckled. “Yes,” he said. “Maybe a little less. Why? Is Rowenna expecting you back before dawn?”

Aiden opened his mouth, then shut it again.

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to disappoint her,” the leshy said. “Now, come here.”

Did you enjoy this piece of writing? Please consider buying me a coffee so that I can have a warm drink while I write.

#monster lover #monster romance #monster smut #leshy x human #monster x human #monster boyfriend #original fiction #original characters #terato #smut writing #pwp #sage's portfolio

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petitelepus · 2 months

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Rekindling The Flame, Part 2

Your life is good in the Rengoku household and you've gotten a friend from Lord Rengoku's youngest son Senjuro, but with time you find feelings for Lord Shinjuro also and he seems to have changed a little also. Kyojuro comes home and you meet for the first time and he can see that there are feelings between you and his father and he approves.

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

WARNINGS: Cursing, Fem!Reader

Months passed and you were quickly getting the hang of how things were done in the Rengoku household. Despite lacking skills to dance or play Shamisen, you were natural when it came to things like cooking and housework.

It also helped a ton that Senjuro, your new best friend taught you everything he knew. Even if you were years older than him, the two of you got along so well.

Despite the scary start you had gotten, you were thankful that it was you who came back with Lord Rengoku from the entertainment district. Your life was much better in the Rengoku household, even better than the time you were supposed to marry a man you didn't love.

Not only were you learning how to keep the house clean and its Lords fed, but you also learned about these monsters or Demons that hunt innocent people during the night to eat them.

You had trouble believing it when Senjuro told you about them, thinking he was telling you a horror story, but his father had heard you two speaking and he had snapped at the two of you, telling you to mind your own business…

Lord Rengoku, or Shinjuro was a complicated man. He had a short temper, and he drank so much that it couldn't be good for him… But he was also a gentleman in his own way. He never hit you or tried to make his moves on you, things you appreciated way more than he could know.

It was a beautiful sunny day and you were in the backyard, ready to do some wood chopping. You had gotten a delivery of nice logs, but the guy responsible for chopping them into nice pieces bailed so it left you and Senjuro with a bunch of wood that didn't fit into the oven or such so it had to be chopped into smaller pieces.

Seeing that Senjuro was much younger than you and that Shinjuro was probably sleeping or drinking, you took it up as your job to chop the wood.

"Big sis, are you sure about this?" Senjuro asked with your nickname as he watched you pull your Yukata's sleeves up. He was worried, "Have you done this ever before?"

"Nope, but how hard can it actually be?" You shrugged as you weighed the axe in your hands. It felt sturdy. You grabbed one wooden log and placed it on the chopping block, before raising the axe into the air and letting it swing down-!

"Wow!" You gasped as the axe sank into the log and you and Senjuro looked a each other in a mixture of shock and excitement, "I actually did it!"

"You did!"

You felt so proud, almost as strong as a man, but you hadn't yet actually chopped the log into two smaller pieces. Nope, your axe was stuck in the middle of it.

"Still needs some work…" You frowned a little as you raised the axe into the air and brought it down, this time actually chopping the wood in two. You laughed victoriously and did a little happy dance while Senjuro laughed at you and your silly behavior.

So you were slowly getting a hang of how to actually chop wood, but you were nowhere near good at it. No, the axe would get caught every so often, and it was getting hot, working out like you were doing in harsh sunlight, not a cloud in the sky.

Senjuro was the sweetest, bringing you water so you wouldn't faint because of dehydration or heatstroke. As you two worked, you didn't notice a pair of sharp golden and red eyes following your every move from the comfort of a cool manor.

You and the young man were working hard, but you were slow. Hardworkers, yes. Quick? Not so much.

"This is taking forever…" You grumbled as you wiped your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand and Senjuro frowned, "Should we take a small pause?"

"Right after this log…" You grumbled but as you swung your axe you missed and by God, you were lucky to sidestep because you totally missed the log and almost took out your own leg while you were at it.

You and Senjuro's eyes were wide open and you both didn't realize that you were holding your breaths.

"That was close."

"Too close."

"The fuck you are doing there!?" Came Shinjuro's voice as the shoji door was slammed aside and the Lord of the mansion stormed to you and Senjuro. You flinched at the sight of him rushing at you and suddenly yanking the axe from your hands.

"Father, we-!" Senjuro was saying when his father grunted and shot a glare at the two of you, "Leave this to me! Go do something useful!"

"Yes!" You and Senjuro both rushed away, leaving Shinjuro alone with the wood chopping. You looked at your friend and frowned, "I hope we didn't bother him…"

"We shall see…" The young man nodded as he looked at you, "Would you like to cut some watermelon if I go sweep the front yard?"

"No, you can cut the melon and I'll go sweep the yard quickly. I'm bad with knives anyway." You said, remembering how you cut your thumb pretty deep when you were a child. That didn't stop you from cooking nearly every day these daya, but you used that as an excuse to let Senjuro get some rest from the sun.

The young man nodded as he headed to the kitchen and you headed outside in the front yard. You grabbed the broom on your way there and went to swipe the dirt and such.

So you were sweeping the front yard, humming a Shamisen melody under your breath when suddenly-!

"Greetings!"

"YIP!" You nearly jumped out of your skin as a loud voice came from behind you and you whipped around to see your Lord standing there- Wait… Lord Rengoku was chopping wood in the backyard… But this man looked exactly like him and Senjuro.

That was when you remembered that Senjuro had told you about his amazing big brother; who was one of the strongest Demon Slayers there was, a Hashira but due to his work, he was rarely home. This must have been the famous Kyojuro!

"Ah, are you perhaps Lord Kyojuro?"

"Yes, but I'm no Lord!" Kyojuro smiled widely and happily as he looked at you and you felt embarrassed, being caught sweaty and tired… But it didn't seem to bother the young man, "You must be the new housekeeper I've heard so much of!"

"Ah, that would be me." You nodded and his smile just grew if that was even possible, "I'm happy that you haven't left yet! My father has a bad habit of chasing any help away."

"It's not like I have a word in it?" You chuckled a little and he tilted his head in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Your father, Lord Rengoku bought me. I belong to him." You replied and Kyojuro's smile dropped as he pondered your words. You fidgeted nervously on your place until he nodded, "Are you happy here?"

"I…" You swallowed a little. You weren't necessarily sad or such… But you were better here than out there in the big cold world. It was always nice and warm in the Rengoku household, despite your Lord's temper and alcoholism.

"Because if you aren't then I will buy your freedom." He nodded, "I'll give you some money and you can go wherever you want to. Start a new life, a life you want for yourself."

"That…" Was a very generous offer. Maybe best one you have ever heard.

"That is awfully generous of you… But I can't accept it."

"You don't have to fear my father. I will handle him and-!"

"B- but I don't want to leave!" You cried out a little louder than you intended, "I… I like it here. This may sound crazy… But I like my life as it is now?"

"You… Like it here?" Kyojuro sounded surprised and you nodded, "I like your brother and I… I like your father…"

"I see…" The young man nodded thoughtfully before smiling, "Then I'll be in your care until I'm called on another mission! Could you perhaps take me to see my father?"

"Yes, of course!" You nodded as you put the broom aside and led Kyojuro to the backyard where his father and your Lord was… And he had nearly chopped all the logs that were left in such a short time!

You almost yelped as you saw him with the top of his yukata wrapped around his waist, showing off his sweat-glistening body, and despite being drunk almost constantly, he still had some fine muscles left from his years as a Demon Slayer. He looked absolutely gorgeous and-!

"Father!"

You flinched, Kyojuro's shouting startling you, and Shinjuro turned to look at his son who had just arrived.

"Kyojuro…" The older man grumbled and then your eyes met and you panicked, "I- I'll fetch you some water, my Lord!" You stuttered as you rushed back inside, leaving Kyojuro and his father alone.

"I'm surprised! It isn't like you to work like this!" Kyojuro said as he looked at his father.

"Tch!" Shinjuro spat on the side, "You should have seen how that foolish woman was swinging axe. Nearly took her own leg!"

"That's very thoughtful of you!" The oldest son nodded, "I can tell things are different here since the last time I visited!"

"What makes you think that?" Shinjuro asked and Kyojuro smiled, "Well, you don't smell like sake for starters! Have you had a drink today yet?"

"How could I with your brother and the help chopping firewood outside my room?" Shinjuro grumbled as he raised and swung the axe, easily snapping the log before him in half.

Kyojuro nodded as he watched his father work, but he heard voices coming and turned to see you rushing down the hall with a glass of water in your hands.

"H- here is water for you, my Lord!" You bowed as you humbly offered the water to Shinjuro who grumbled as he took the water and drank it slowly.

Kyojuro noticed that you were admiring his father and when he was done with the water, he handed the glass back to you, "Bring me another one."

"Yes, my Lord," You nodded as you turned and left and Kyojuro noticed how his father's gaze stuck to you. It took a second, but his smile brightened when he realized something. You liked his father… And he liked you! It looked like neither one of you were aware of the other one's feelings!

"Why are you smiling like an idiot?" Shinjuro grumbled but Kyojuro's smile went nowhere, "Oh, I just remembered I have something to discuss with Senjuro! I'll be back soon father!"

"Tell that woman to start preparing dinner. All this working is making me hungry."

"As you say, father!" Kyojuro nodded as he headed inside, just barely passing you as you brought another glass of water for his father. He watched from the sideline how his father ordered you to get the dinner started and how you bowed, telling him that you would do just that.

The current Flame Hashira smiled as you returned and both of you headed towards the kitchen, "You like my father, don't you?" He asked suddenly and you yelped in shock, nearly dropping the glass between your hands.

"I- I-!" You swallowed nervously, "I do, he did save me from becoming an Oiran…"

"No, I mean you like like him!" Kyojuro said and you stopped to look at him, "Wha- wha-?"

"And I can tell he likes you too!"

"I- It can't be!" You shook your head, trying to deny everything, "Lord Rengoku is just…! You guys have a mother- His wife-!"

"Our mother has been gone for years, but she will always be in our hearts," Kyojuro replied and you frowned, feeling absolutely the worst for liking a widower who still grieved in his own way, "That's just even more reasons why I shouldn't approach your father with a relationship in my mind…!"

"Our mother would want our father to be happy again, and I believe that she would approve of you and him," Kyojuro said, but you still couldn't bring yourself to believe him and he could tell. He smiled fondly and petted your head, "I can tell things are better here now that you are here. Have a little faith in yourself."

"I…" You swallowed, "I think I need to ask from your mother?"

"Of course. Go ahead and me and Senjuro will get dinner started."

"But it's my job to-!"

"I insist." Kyojuro nodded, not leaving you any room to argue with him, "Go talk with our mother." And with that, he went to the kitchen and left you standing there. You swallowed nervously as you turned and walked into Ruka's room… And to her butsudan altar.

You kneeled before the altar and bowed in respect. As you raised your head, you looked at the picture of the Ruka, Shinjuro's wife, and Kyojuro's and Senjuro's mother. She was a gorgeous woman and no doubt a brilliant person, and you felt so inferior to her.

"Greeting Lady Rengoku… It's me… The new help in your house… Again…" You spoke gently, "I'm sorry to come to you like this… But I have to confess something…"

You took a deep breath, "I really like Lord Rengoku… Like, I would like to try and court him… But I don't want to do anything without your blessing…"

There was a soft breeze coming through the open door and you turned to look, not noticing if the door was already open or not. You blinked and looked at Ruka's picture, "W- was that you? Can you give me a sign if it's alright for me to… You know? See if Lord Rengoku could like me the way I like him?"

The breeze came again, but this time a beautiful black and white butterfly flew into the room. You watched in awe as the little thing flew around you before it landed on Ruka's picture, resting there and fluttering its wings… Before taking off into the garden again.

You smiled a little, feeling like a great weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You turned and bowed one more time to Ruka's picture, "Thank you, my Lady. I will try my best to make Lord Rengoku happy."

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #shinjuro rengoku #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #fem reader #senjuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku #ruka rengoku #writing #my writing #story #my story #Enjoy!

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wookofwallst · 7 months

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Is Cyberpunk 2077 the greatest comeback in gaming?

With Cyberpunk coming off of one of the worst launches in recent history. Now, on the precipice of its bright and shiny 2.0 update, it has people asking... Is Cyberpunk the greatest comeback in gaming history? Let's take a look at it!

The game on launch in 2020 was riddled with game breaking bugs, terrible computer AI, it didn't even work on Playstation 4 and Xbox ones leading to mass refunds on the respective platforms, vehicles felt floaty as you were driving down the road and even if you were going 100mph it still only felt like you were going 20mph.

There were hundreds of exploits, free money glitches, armor glitches, and in my own personal experience, I had a level 1 revolver that did fifteen thousand damage. The "net running" felt like a waste of time, and it felt extremely underutilized, especially when considered the game constantly reminds you of net running and the power it actually has.

I don't think anyone in their right mind would have ever said that this game (when running properly) looks bad. The game looks incredible, and the writing and voice acting are incredible it was everything else that was the problem.

Since launch, there's been a litany of updates to the game play. From bug fixes to the great community support of modders and adding in apparel from the Netflix series Cyberpunk: Edgerunners. That show, in my opinion, single handedly changed the public perception of the game with its introspective writing and absolutely stunning visual design. Your heart gets smashed into atoms by the end of the series. It gave consumers of the game the idea of what this game COULD have been.

Now, with the free "Update 2.0" along with the subsequent release of the paid for Phantom Liberty expansion, has CD Projekt Red done enough to actually warrant more money from the consumers? In my opinion, no.

The huge disappointment of its release, the fact they had to provide refunds, the fact it was taken off of the Playstation store and Xbox stores has to mean something. Some sort of recompense must be made.

It's been reported that some of the updates they made were ripped directly off of Nexus Mods without modders permission. It's also been said that this might be the only expansion we get. I understand they have worked on the game. I understand that they've added in a bunch. But I don't think that deserves the high praise of "Greatest Gaming Comeback." That will for the time being belong to No Mans Sky.

If we look at other games that have launched in a broken or terrible state, they release free expansions, provide free gameplay updates, (looking at you No Mans Sky) or in some cases, just completely abandon the project altogether. (Looking at you, Anthem).

All of the updates, including the upcoming expansion, should have been IN the game at launch. Yes, we should thank them for sticking with the game. But it really has been years at this point, and just now is when we are finally getting our hands on new content and a game play overhaul once again, something that should've been done in the first six months to a year this should be free. But I guess getting Idris Albas voice and likeness has a pretty hefty cost to it.

Will you be playing Phantom Liberty at its launch? Are you excited for Update 2.0? Are you willing to pay for this expansion? Are you skipping it to play something else? Let me know!

I stream every weekday, 8pm-12am EST. I'd love to see you there! The link is below!

#article #personal #video games #twitch #gaming #live streaming #twitch streamer #livestream #armored core #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #elden ring #Starfield #Phantom Liberty

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john-macnamara · 17 days

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At one in the morning, a message was sent out to PEIP HQ regarding the beginnings demonic invasion in New Mexico. From there it was quickly decided who would be informed, and by 1:05, General John MacNamara of the United States Military got the message forwarded to him. It took approximately twenty minutes for transport to arrive, and from there he made it to rural New Mexico in just under three hours.

By the time John got there, the cracks in the ground were already spouting more than just dust. There were small scale demons, mostly imps and hellhounds, but a few succubi crawling out of red-hot tears in the earth. This wasn't the worst he had seen in his tenure, no doubt about it, but it was a sign of worse things to come if PEIP didn't get a handle on them.

John lights a cigarette, surveying the area. Approximately one hundred imps, fifty hellhounds, and another fifty varied demons. Is that an oni? Ugh, this is going to be more of a nuisance than he'd prefer. They only have a hundred of their own people. John's going ot have to play this safe if he wants everyone out alive. He takes a long drag of the cigarette and begins to shout out orders.

"Alright! I want a medical tent set up fifty yards behind the nearest rift, with snipers watching for any attacks. Attack squads one and two will be splitting and flanking the easternmost and westernmost rifts. You will close in once your current rift is successfully sealed by one of the repair teams. I want every repairer attached to an attacker at all times. This also goes for squads three and four, who will close in from the north and south respectively. Protect your partner, if someone goes down call on our medical staff immediately, and defer to your commanding officer if anything is to happen. You all are trained in demonic combat, so I take it I don't have to run an instructional course on that. Am I correct?"

For the first time in too long, John allows himself to truly settle into his General persona. This is his job. This is what he was made to do. And despite the jabs and the questioning he sometimes faces by his peers, he knows he's damn good at it. Proof of this is easily seen when his voice spreads across the crowd, everyone attentive and listening. With a "Sir, yes sir!" they confirm John's assumption.

"Good. You were all meant to be here today. This is something right here and right now you can do to protect the world. Beyond any country, beyond any border, this is for the world. Do well to remember that. On my command, we strike."

John rolls his neck, smirking just a bit. This is the other part of his job that people tend to forget he's remarkably skilled at. You can't rocket to four-star General as fast as he did without combat prowess, now can you? He may not like to hurt people, but otherworldly entities? Beings that appear here only to hurt and inflict suffering onto humanity? Well, that's a whole other story. John wouldn't say he enjoys it, but he certainly doesn't mind taking his lust for combat out on a bunch of poor hellish bastards. He pulls out his favorite knife, the one he got from Wilbur when he had just joined, and starts to fiddle with it while he waits for an approach. You can't attack first, after all, and so far no civilians have been harmed by this particular infestation. If John has anything to say about it, none will be by the end of this either.

After only a few seconds of waiting, a hellhound rushes up to him, sulfuric drool spilling from its lips. John's smirk turns into a full-on grin, too easy. When the hound lunges at him, he dives under, running his blade through the soft underskin of its belly. It's easily incapacitated after that, and the assault has officially begun. With a rallying cry of "Charge!", John rushes into the thick of the combat.

Here's the funny thing about Johnathan S. MacNamara. He's always had a streak of violence. Not in the same way a man like Owen craves the pain of others, or someone resorts to punching rather than words, but simply a love of the fight. Exchanging blows, watching his enemies recoil in fear as he finally has the chance to show them just how strong he truly is? That's a feeling that gets his heart racing and adrenaline pumping through his veins. This is his therapy. And despite his denial, he genuinely loves it.

He decapitates two imps with his first swing, then another with his second. He knows his goal, thin out enemy forces so that by the time his own forces center, they won't have to fight off nearly as many opponents. There's hardly even a risk of death this time, this is far too easy. More demons swarm him, and he works through them without breaking so much as a sweat. However, they learn that he's a danger in close range, and instead start making swipes and quickly backing away. John chuckles, as if he didn't have a plan for this. He grabs an imp out of the air, crushing its neck and throwing it to the ground. In the same movement, he sheathes his knife and pulls out his trusty staff. Unlike the previous times he's used it, John presses the notch on the top of the handle, extending two blades from the tips of the staff. Silver and blessed, of course. What kind of military man would he be if they weren't?

He tears through multiple foes at a time, becoming a whirlwind of death and bloodshed on the battlefield. It's beautiful, in a way. His movements are precise and calculated. None of this is the panicked John who's made far too many appearances as of late. He's calculating and weighing every step he takes, every flick of his wrist, to optimize it for maximum efficiency. It only takes twenty minutes until the area around him is entirely razed. The attack and repair teams, when they reach the center, don't find resistance, only General MacNamara, standing in the middle of a circle of dead demons. His clothing is soaked with black blood, and it's splattered all over his body. This is a victory for PEIP, for humanity, and by god is he proud to be a part of it.

John signals for everyone to reconvene at the medical tent, and he runs a quick log of everyone still there. No deaths, thank the lord, and only four injuries. Out of a force of over a hundred people, that's not bad in the slightest. The cleanup crew is called in to remove the bodies from the area, and everyone is sent back to base to clean up and rest. For just a moment, John can say he's genuinely happy. He knows that what he just did saved lives, and he knows that he was irrefutably good at something. He feels less stressed than he has in a while, and he lets that feeling overtake him as he looks at the razed battlefield one last time.

And, well, if some of those bodies belong to his friends, that's for John to know.

#hatchetfield rp #hatchetblr

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