#but of course they just stand there so I have to start feeding them lines and see if that brings them back to life

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

The drive's short one. 

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?" 

"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 

Steve pauses. 

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

 Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her. 

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 

One, giant, never ending bruise. 

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 

The same one he's already getting looks for. 

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 

(He had not gone to a hospital. 

None of them had.)  

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 

Just older, and with slightly better hair. 

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:

 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 

It's not that bad. 

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  

He figures he has time to win her over. 

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 

"I'm busy." He says flatly. 

"Ste~eeeve!" 

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly. 

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 

In a way no one ever had. 

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--" 

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)

#BB is coming down to the wire #my date to post is Halloween #bc its me lol #so our regularly scheduled programing will be back shortly #steddissy #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #0o0 fanfics #steve/chrissy/eddie #for those weirdies who kept insisting this was platonic in the tags you can read this part too and be happily delusional about the endgame #its a slowburn #my calling card lmao #this fic was meant to weave around the canon plot until s4 wherein we go off the rails #this is an everyone lives fiiiiic #theyre all equally dorky with crushes #Steve has some Im Just Ken issues #angst

[yourlocalstranger123]

What if MC is just really blunt and just decides one day to ask their fav brother if they can touch their tiddies (pecs)?

(Im talking about Obey me, just in case you’re a bit confused)

—Touch—

I'm not gonna do all the characters of obey me but if you do want me to write someone then tell me :)

And also idk what kind you wanted, like funny, fluff or something... I decided to uhh...you can just see by the warning.

Note: When I mean it's not safe for work [nsfw], I mean my work, so it's not like extreme smut, but yeah....

Reader talking lines are bold

Characters: Beel, Lucifer, Diavolo a little extra: Asmodeus

Note from me: honestly, idk if I should put where it's reverse too, but I decided not to.

Warning!⚠️ : NSFW [I REMEMBERED TO PUT A WARNING]

"Oh, Hey [name]. Do you need something?"

"Let me touch your tiddies— pecs."

Beel

He doesn't know what you mean. But once you explain it to him, he'll be a bit flustered but just give him food, and he's good to go.

"Uhm....it feels weird.."

Beel looks down to see your hands roaming around his tiddies— chest. He tries to stay still while focusing on his hamburger.

*squeeze*

"Hngh—!"

Beel shuts his eyes as your eyes widen in shock.

"Ah...sorry"

He looks away as he stuffs his mouth with the burger and just lets you continue what you desire. You kept teasing him as you slightly squeeze it again. He whined but didn't complain, but at least you are feeding him right now.

—nsfw under this—

He lays there shirtless as you kiss him. You tried pulling out from the kiss, but he hungrily chased for more. When he didn't feel your body on his, he whined, tugging your sleeve to come back to him. He made a pouty face which you couldn't resist. Beel could feel your hands slithering around his body, but you kept avoiding the most area he wanted you to touch the most!

He grabbed your wrist as you looked at him, seeing his eyes filled with tears from all the teasing. He led you to his sensitive chest and whimpered when you finally touched it. You started kissing his chest down to his V line as he started to drool. You put 2 fingers in front of his face, and when he came back to his senses, he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. Licking off the whip cream you put on your fingers.

You started to play with his chest as he arched his back, dizzy from the feeling of it. Playing with one and sucking on the other. You started grinding on his crotch as he squirmed. You held his leg down firmly as you continued, not long he came. As you tried to get off, he hugged you, Not letting go. You were about to tell him to let go until you looked back and saw his eyes filled with hunger of lust. This is gonna be a long night.

Thank you for the meal. [Joke]

Lucifer

"No." Honestly, what did you expect? And if you ask why....just say you'll get a scolding. It would take WEEKS to finally convince him. He only lets you lay your head on his chest when you both sleep. Of course, in your mind, you were gonna take this slow. But life had another mind. You and Lucifer were stuck in a closet.

Why? Well, Luci [nickname] had to go back to the school for work at night and you were also there but were chased by demons because you may or may not have just uh....angered them by your bluntness. You saw Luci in the hallway and pulled him into a room. He was about to protest and scold you of why you were here.

Until you covered his mouth, and he heard voices. You quickly held Lucifer and went into the closet. It didn't have much room, but Lucifer was so glad that it was dark, so you couldn't see his state right now. He looked away, blushing as your knee was between his legs, giving him support to stand up since his legs were getting weak.

As I said, it was dark, so when you moved your body around to be more comfortable, you accidentally put your hands on something. [His chest]

"Ahh!—..."

"..."

Yeah, after that, he did not talk to you for the whole week unless necessary.

And if he does have to talk to you, he will look at anything beside you, and if he does look at you, his face will become red as his memories remind him this moment.

—Nsfw—

"It's me, Lucifer [name]. May I come in....?"

As you let him in, he led you to your bed and shoved you on it. He grinded on your thigh as he hid his face on your shoulder. He shivered when you outlined his back and slowly slithered your hands under his shirt to take it off. You switch positions as he sat there, impatiently waiting for you to do something.

He wrapped his arms around your waist [even if his fingers ain't touching] tears coming from his eyes, wanting you to help him with the 'problem' you made a week ago. You soothed him, saying praises of how good he was. He tried covering his mouth to not let the lewd sounds coming from him out.

You held both of his hands with one and kissed him, muffling his moans and whimpers. You tugged his chest as he trembled. Still grinding on your thigh, trying to reach his climax. You rubbed his crotch as he whined. You got his hair out of the way to see his face all ruined from the pleasure you brought him, making you want to ruin him and his pride more.

Diavolo

Oh, he loved how you didn't care about him being the ruler of demons and still talk to him like a normal being. He would always give you hugs if you allow it and sometimes make you suffocate between his arms and chest by accident.

You and him were in his office as you helped him finish his papers and some papers of Lucifer because he needs a break. You finally finished the papers. You looked over to Diavolo. Seeing him still working, you went over to him and got some of his papers. He tried to protest that you already did enough for him, but he tripped. As you tried to catch him, you fall with him because of the sudden impact and guess where your hand went?

If you guess his soft and squishy chest, then you're right. You also did an accidental experimental squeeze. Couldn't blame you since you were suffocating by you know what and could not see. He apologized, seeing him so stressed that you wanted to help him. Of course....in a different way.

—nsfw—

"A- ah....this..feels new"

You chuckled, him trying to cover his face and biting his lips to refrain from the unfamiliar sounds coming from him, drawing blood from his lips. His face was already red when you blunty said how you were gonna help him in another way instead of papers.

He never knew a human could make a ruler of all demons tremble with a single touch. You teased him by only lightly touching him, whispers sweet nothings in his ears, and ignoring his pleas. He didn't expect to be so desperate for your touch, but here he is. Begging for you.

You warned him to quiet down that Barbatos could come in any second. You used this chance to tease him that maybe he wants him to come in on you guys doing unholy things. He whined, snuggling onto your shoulder as you continued playing with his chest. You lowered down, making him unexpectedly arch his back when you started sucking on it.

This was definitely gonna be a fun night for you two.

A small extra:

Asmodeus would probably love and be a little shy when you say praises of his beauty and etc. [I told you it was a small extra]

#obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me luci x reader #obey me lucifer x you #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x gender neutral reader #lucifer x you #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x you #beelzebub x gender neutral reader #beel x reader #obey me beel smut #obey me lucifer smut #sub obey me #sub lucifer #obey me beel x reader #obey me beel x you #beel x you #obey me diavolo x you #sub diavolo #sub!obey me #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me fic

[thatfreshi]

Appreciate the Astarion works!!! 💙💙💙

If you'd like another request, what about Tav gifting him something that allows him to see his reflection? Idk some kinda spell/amulet/potion? They're already to the point where he feeds from them or in a relationship and he's just beyond touched/ shocked they would do something for him like this? (Bc we know he's not ever had the most kindness shown to him)

he's been living rent free in my head and I just want to give him everything his undead lil heart desires.

Recommended Song: Mirrorball - Taylor Swift

(I just started listening to her music and holy shit this song is so them!!!)

It's late, the perfect time of day for the two of you. You and Astarion and out in your backyard, putting out some new furniture that he haggled for today. It's hard to say no to that smile, you would know. As you move nice chairs around debating where you should put them, you get into a playful argument.

"I know you're like, the house decorator, but gods why can't we put it in this corner?"

"Because darling, it'll ruin the feng shui. We should put the chairs here instead, and keep the plants over here."

You roll your eyes.

"I bet you don't even know what feng shui means."

"I don't, but it sure sounds fancy doesn't it?"

You giggle.

"What, I'm laughable because I don't know one tiny phrase? I bet there are plenty of words you don't know."

"Well, I don't know them, so I'm not worried about them."

You saunter over to him, throwing your arms up around his shoulders, and the two of you stare at each other for a moment.

"You know our anniversary is tomorrow right?"

"How could I forget my sweet?"

"I don't know, maybe the way you forgot what feng shui means."

"Okay, ouch. But yes of course, I have wondrous plans for the two of us."

"Okay but you can't have that good of plans because I really need to make sure you don't one-up this."

You walk back into the house for a brief moment, grabbing a scroll out of your bag.

"When I walked away while we were at the market, because I said I got tired of hearing you argue with that old lady? Well, I found this."

You hold the scroll out, and he gently grabs it out of your hands.

"I tried to get Gale to teach me, but you know I'm not very magically inclined so..."

He unrolls the scroll, reading the scrawled writing.

"This is-"

You cut him off in excitement.

"Mirror image! I thought maybe you could use it to make a reflection of yourself."

He stares at the scroll in shock.

"How much did you pay for this?"

"None of your damn business."

You grin at him, knowing all too well that you paid that guy way too much.

"This is very sweet my dear, I... I don't know what to say."

"Well you don't have to say anything, try it!"

After reading for a moment, he goes to cast the spell. He says a few words that go right over your head, and suddenly there were three more Astarions in your backyard.

"Gods!"

Astarion's cry of shock echoed through, all four of him? You're not quite sure how this works. After getting his bearings, Astarion looks around at his three reflections.

"Wow, this is certainly... wow."

You're so excited, you can finally show him all the little details you like about him, he gets to see how gorgeous he is, the list goes on and on.

"Okay, I have to do something funny, because I NEED you to see your little laugh lines. Hm..."

He furrows his brow at you, wondering what you're planning. And then you tickle his sides, causing an eruption of laughter.

"Quick, look!"

As he's still smiling, he catches a glimpse of one of the reflections, the little crow's feet he gets when he laughs.

"Oh, that was so important you had to attack me? If anything they make me look old."

"Well... you are kinda old."

He playfully pushes your shoulder. After the two of you quiet your laughter, he stands staring at one of the reflections, taking it all in. The eyes, the hair, trying to remember what he used to look like.

"What do you think?"

"I think... I think it's fitting."

He snarls to look at his fangs. Astarion has never seen just how menacing he can be, why people listen to him when he's threatening. You don't see anything scary though. Maybe you used to, long long ago. But now, he's just Astarion. That's all he has to be.

"This red really is quite bright."

He says, commenting on his eyes.

"Yeah, they're nice though. Piercing."

"At least my hair looks as good as I think it does. All my efforts haven't been wasted."

And just as fast as they came, the reflections vanish, fading out of existence. It's just the two of you again.

"Damn, I thought it would last a little longer."

You frown a little, wondering if it was really worth it. Astarion catches your glance, realizing your doubt. He tilts your chin up and cups your face in his hand.

"Even if it was short, it was a wondrous gift darling. I appreciate it, truly. Besides, now I know what kind of handsome devil you've ended up with."

"Yeah, trust me, I know."

You wrap yourselves up in each other, locking lips, somehow sharing your gratitude for each other in kisses. He gets a little handsy, and you jokingly whisper to him.

"Should've done this with the reflections."

He laughs quietly.

"Oh hush."

You end the evening tangled up in each other, and he seems to be more sure of himself than usual. Turns out seeing yourself after two hundred years can do something for the ego. Maybe one day, you'll find a more permanent soluton, but for now, one little scroll is enough. He's enough. You're both enough, as long as you have each other.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #fluff

[juuuulez]

📰 | part two: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour!Reader, female reader, father-figure Negan, enemies to lovers, forbidden romance, no use of (y/n) because immersion.

summary: During your first visit to Alexandria, when Carl misfires a gun, you’re instructed to “babysit” him. This does not go very well.

previous | next

I’m glad everyone liked the first part!! This one is definitely more juicy. Kids being kids. Writing the next part now, let me know if you have any particular requests!

Also (finally) titled!! Drawing heavily on Romeo and Juliet, except… more spiteful at the beginning.

A few days later, and you’re back.

The town of Alexandria is actually quite nice, when you aren’t being cooped up in a cell.

Your fellow Saviours seem to think so too, exploring the place, taking supplies they deem useful for the Sanctuary. After all, there’s mouths to feed, therefore you’ve stopped feeling bad for all these communities you bleed dry.

Well, you felt a little bad last night.

The lineup was rough, it always is. You hadn’t seen the brunt of it, instead sitting safe in the RV where Negan had all but interrogated you regarding your time locked up; coming from a place of concern for your well-being. But you stepped out just as dawn was beginning to hit, and saw the aftermath.

It was just for a few seconds, to retrieve a weapon from Dwight, but you felt a twinge of guilt as Negan taunted that poor boy.

At least he wasn’t wearing the stupid hat anymore.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you told yourself. Guilt had no place in the apocalypse, especially not for the Saviours, a group of well earned apex predators in this bleak world.

That’s how you saw it.

You oversee the work of your people whilst Negan is talking with Rick. Everybody respects you.. or maybe everybody is scared of you. Scared of your father. Either way, it works.

You’re comfortable as a leader. Somebody who can give orders without hesitation. At the start, there was resistance. Who wanted to be ordered around by a teenage girl? But eventually everything fell into place, and people realised that you were a central part to this operation.

Then the sound of a gunshot rings through the air, putting everybody on edge. Weapons suddenly unholstered, dropping whatever menial task they were completing.

You command them to stand down with a wave of the hand, going to investigate yourself.

Fortunately enough, the situation has already been handled.

Or mostly handled.

“Just who I wanted to see.” Negan says with his usual prowess, however it’s dimmed by an underlying irritation. He brings you further into the room with a gloved hand on your shoulder.

He positions you there like a prize, something valuable. Or maybe a dangerous weapon. A constant show of ‘look at what’s mine, look at what she can do.’ You quite like that.

“Now, it appears that young Grimes is too trigger-happy for his own good,” Negan continues, to which you finally notice Carl standing in the middle of the room, “So why don’t you babysit him for me, darling?”

The boy is practically seething. That same expression you’d seen at the lineup, pure anger and rebellion.

You could feel yourself beginning to smile.

“Of course,” You agree, a grin spreading across your lips, “I’d appreciate a tour, to see if anything here interests me.”

There’s no reply. Carl glares at you, then shoots a pleading look at his father, but to no avail. Rick nods his head in the direction of the door, and you feel like you’ve just won the lottery. This was going to be good.

Now, you didn’t enjoy toying with peoples emotions, per-say. But getting them all riled up sure was fun.

And a teenage boy? This was like a gift from above.

Grown men grew tired of your commanding nature, they’d get violent, speak out of line. It was a dangerous game, one that you loved. Like a cat and mouse, or Icarus flying too close to the sun.

A teenage boy was much more in your ballpark.

“You play sports?” You ask Carl, who is walking a few paces behind you, begrudgingly following despite the fact he was meant to be showing you around. But you didn’t mind.

He doesn’t answer.

You turn to face him, shooting him a backwards glare of what the hell is your problem. “What, you took a vow of silence, or something?” It’s snarky, immature, prodding the bear.

But it works.

“No, I don’t play sports.” Carl answers reluctantly, his tone flat and unamused. It’s becoming more and more evident that when you’re in power like this, in control, you can be a nightmare.

You don’t bother to suppress your grin of satisfaction, turning back away from him, “Yeah, didn’t think so, stringbean. Bet I’ve got more muscle mass than you.”

This must do something, as suddenly Carl has closed the few paces between you, and is blocking your path from continuing. He’s in your face, closer than comfortable, but you love it.

“What the hell’s your problem?” He asks, clearly angry at your snide little comments. That righteous attitude is back. “You can’t come in here, and tell everybody what to do. We’re gonna fight back, and when we do, you’ll be sorry.”

You give him a firm shove, letting Carl stumble a few feet back, “Yeah, how’d that go for you back there, huh? Aim much?”

It’s a low blow, you know that, which is why it feels so goddamn good.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him.

“Didn’t shoot me at the satellite station, either. I’m starting to think you’re more harmless than you’re letting on.”

“I’m not exactly in the interest of murdering children,” Carl retorts angrily, “What are you, twelve?”

“I’m seventeen!” You yell back at him, walking swiftly past the boy, but making sure to harshly bump your shoulders together. “Now show me your armoury. You’ve got something of mine.”

You’re walking too quickly for Carl to shoot back a comment, and he needs to awkwardly skip in order to catch up. This time he takes a few strides forward, making the effort to walk just fast enough to stay in front of you.

He wants to be in charge.

Luckily, you love to be petty.

As the pair of you reach the armoury, you swiftly side-step Carl, entering the room first, much to his dismay. You’re eyes are scanning the shelves, rows and rows of guns and weaponry, with one thing in mind. The bat.

“Too bad we’re confiscating all your guns, this is quite the collection,” You comment, finding a supply sheet to glance over, “Good job on that one, by the way. Aren’t you helpful?”

Carl essentially ignores your sarcasm, speaking from the other side of the room, “Looking for something?”

You turn, a momentary flash of confusion on your face, until you realise that he’s got it. The metal bat clutched in one hand, held up tauntingly. When you take a step forward to retrieve it, he only takes a step back.

“That’s not funny.” You say, a sense of agitation in your tone, that dominant and teasing persona gone in an instant.

It only causes Carl to grin, taking pleasure in this momentary inch of power he’s gained.

“You even know how to play baseball?” He asks, switching the bat into his dominant hand, pretending to slowly swing it.

“I do, actually,” You snap, reaching out to finally grasp the metal bat, taking it from his grip unceremoniously, “Wanna see? I can use your skull as the ball.”

This works to shut him up, judging by how Carl’s eyes narrow into a glare, but he doesn’t dare to say anything. You take this as a victory, once again knocking shoulders as you leave the small space, not bothering to shut the door behind you.

You’re not even a few meters down the street before there are footsteps again, Carl still following you, despite wanting otherwise. It makes that malicious grin to return.

“Aren’t you obedient?” You quip, not even bothering to look back at him as you speak, as if he isn’t worth the time. It’s a power trip, one you’re addicted to, one Carl is unknowingly feeding into. Or, maybe he does know, but can’t do anything about it.

Carl scoffs, “Coming from you. Do you always do everything Negan tells you to?”

It’s smart, getting you to roll your eyes in displeasure, that metal bat swinging by your side as you walk. “It’s called being a good soldier, like you would understand.”

“Yeah? Soldier, or pet?” He continues, and you can basically hear the grin in his voice.

The fuck does he know?

You finally spin around, grip tightening ever so slightly on the bat. Control is slowly slipping through your fingers, this stupid back and forth game beginning to get on your nerves, despite being the instigator.

“You wanna talk about pet?” You spit, closing in on his personal space, “Rick tells you to murder twenty people, and you do it? That’s called being a little bitch, okay, daddy’s boy?”

This works, as Carl’s face twists into a look of anger, his fists clenching at his sides.

But you continue, “This stupid group has had this coming for a long time. There’s no such thing as being the good guys, you’re just another bunch of stupid pricks, who need to be put in their place.”

It snaps something inside of Carl, because suddenly he’s giving you a harsh shove, where you stumble a few feet backwards. You mirror his childish temper, throwing your body at him with equal force, where the two of you awkwardly wrestle in the middle of the street.

You attempt to gain leverage, steeling your feet into the ground, bending your knees. Then, out of nowhere, you’re raising your arm with the bat, ready to try and dislocate his shoulder, or something. Anything. Just to show that you aren’t weak.

But before you can swing, there’s resistance, and you snap out of this little squabble to realise that somebody else is holding your bat.

“The hell are you doin’, girl?”

Negan swiftly lifts the bat from your grip, holding it at an arms length. You let go of Carl, whipping around to glare at the older man.

“He’s being a total jagoff!” You shout, twisting to see a similar look of discontent on Carl’s face, like he’s itching to leap back into your little fight.

It’s no use, because then Negan is holding your shoulder, giving you a gentle push in the opposite direction, “Truck, now. We’re making our departure.”

And you listen, despite everything telling you to continue. To prove yourself, maintain that power.

To make matters worse, Carl has taken this experience as some sort of mental victory, yelling out from the footpath, “Daddy’s girl!”

You can only turn, angrily giving him the finger as you storm off towards the gates, but it acts as fuel to the fire. Getting sick of that stupid expression, you turn back away, footsteps quickening in an attempt to seperate yourself from the ever so slightly humiliating experience.

Next time you’ll get him.

#twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #negan smith #carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x you #twd x you #negan smith x reader

[420faggyactivities69]

I have always been into feedism. The big, soft, jiggling tummies just always did it for me and after gaining weight on accident I decided fuck it, why not join in on the fun.

After all, I have a lot of self control, I can always just stop and loose the weight if I don't like it...

So I stuffed myself for the first time. And the second time. And the third time. And soon enough eating because I'm bored became the standard. I didn't notice it at first but slowly I was blowing up.

My clothes started to fit more snuggly than they used to, my thighs started touching, stretch marks appeared on my hips, what was once a flat tummy now had a considerable softness to it.

It made me horny beyond belief. Days off were spent doing nothing but stuffing myself silly and masturbating. On all fours, a pillow under me and between my legs, and the image of my body fattening up stuck in my head.

One day, I was doing just that. I layer there, on my knees, fat ass sticking out, playing with myself after a big stuffing. I came harder than ever before, the waves of pleasure making me curl into myself. And that's when I felt it. My belly slapping the top of my thighs for the very first time.

After riding out the orgasm I stood up to looked in the mirror and saw it - my, still bloated, belly had an ever so slight line where it was pushing out from my body. I sat back down onto my bed and finally noticed that my belly was actually starting to sit in my lap.

I felt so proud I celebrated with stuffing myself even more. After that day it became really hard to restrain myself around food. I ate anything and everything that came in my general vicinity. I'd eat a meal big enough to feed an entire family while fondling my growing belly and I'd still get a snack afterwards.

I was on cloud nine, my body was plumping up so quickly, I could actually feel the fat cells multiplying after every meal. I couldn't get my hands to stop rubbing my softening belly at every chance I got, I couldn't stop putting on old clothes that used to be oversized only to watch the buttons on them pop off, I could stop GAINING.

One day I was trying to actually cook for once and my back started aching. I felt the sack of lard pulling on my back muscles and my legs vere hurting from standing up for so long. Heaving and plopping my belly onto the counter to rest my back I told myself

"okay, maybe I got a little too fat. I had my fun but now I should really loose some of the weight. I mean, it won't long, after all, I have a lot of self control..."

So I finished cooking the meal, or something that was originally meant as just one meal, and took only about a third, thinking that I'm just gonna finish the rest some other day. I also promised myself that I'm starting working out tomorrow.

Of course, that didn't last very long. After finishing the meal my belly felt completely empty and within half an hour I went back to eat the rest. Needless to say the working out routine I planned got forgotten as well.

So I just kept my old habits up and denied even weighing that much. I mean, the scale must be broken, I'm not ACTUALLY that fat, and again, I have a lot of self control, if I REALLY wanted to, I can just work this extra weight right off. And so I kept gaining. And kept gaining.

And kept gaining.

And kept gaining...

Until my entire body jiggled with the slightest of movement. My enormous belly hanged halfway to my knees, a heavy sack made entirely out of pure fat. Big, shapeless, cellulite ridden thighs always touched, and the friction of them chafing against each other made it harder to walk. My head now always rested on a big double chin that wobbled every time my hand with sausage like fingers bought something up to my mouth.

I was in deep, and I knew I really needed to start to take it seriously. Attempt after attempt was made to loose the excess weight, but it always bought even more lard on my body. I couldn't stop shoving food down my throat, no matter how much I tried. I became unrecognizable to the people who knew me and loved ones started to get concerned about me.

But of course, I was too proud to admit that I got too fat actually couldn't help myself. In my mind, I was still in the "slightly chubby" phase.

And even I DID get too fat, I have a lot of self control, I can always just stop and loose the weight, right?

#queer feedee #queer feedism #soft feedism #wg kink #trans feedee #gaining weight on purpose #wg text #weight gain denial #wg fiction #wg story #wg writing #weight gain fiction #weight gain writing #weight gain text #wg thoughts #wg denial #wg k!nk #trans wg #soft tummy #tummy kink

[deadlynavigation]

Satan's My Fuckbuddy

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Blitzø x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, brief mention of smut in the beginning and end.

Author's Note: Sorry Lilith. More of this to come, guys. I may turn this into a series.

I do not own Helluva Boss. Pls don't come after me.

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

Navigation

"You know, you could've told me you and the big boss himself used to fuck," Blitzø pants, his head turning to look back at the city's firey ruins.

"Oh, sorry," you respond breathlessly, a sickly sweet smile spready across your face. "I wasn't aware that little bit of information would lead to us running from a burning city after almost being banned from everything Hell has to offer!" By the time you finish your rant, you're almost screaming, and Blitzø's put another foot of space between you two.

A boom sounds from behind you, followed by a large crash. "How many times have I told you-" your boss yells over the noise. "Sleeping with rich assholes that live six fucking rings down never ends well!"

"You think I listen to your rants about rich assholes?" You shout over another boom. A boom which sounded way too close for comfort, so you pick up the pace, Blitz doing the same.

You're almost to the elevator that will ship you back to Imp City. The isolated building that holds such transportation is in your line of sight, only a few yards or so away. And if your luck holds, you'll get there with minimal injuries-

It's too easy. Blitz's eyes widen as he realizes this, and turns over his shoulder to glance at the literal devil chasing you both.

Shit.

"Time to start sprinting, toots." Blitz turns back in a panic. Even from your peripheral vision, you can see his wide eyes and anxious expression, which prompts you to look where he had seconds ago.

What you see has you moving faster than you've ever moved before. Lucifer himself is on your tail, his devil form taking the place of his standard, human-like form. His feathered wings are spread, blocking the red sky from view. His horns are larger than usual, and his face could make any sinner fall to their knees.

Hot.

After a moment of staring at Lucifer in all his glory, you stop running. Your breaths slow and your heart stops trying to escape from your chest as you blink slowly in realization.

Blitz turns around once he notices the absense of your footfalls, only to find you completely still with Satan quickly catching up.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Your boss shrieks.

You shake your head. "Nope, just realistic. We're not gonna outrun the Devil. Why try and get in even more trouble with him?"

Blitz looks at you like you just said Moxxie was right about something. After he stands like that for a long second and comes to terms with your statement, he sighs, walking up to you as he rubs his forehead.

"If we get killed by this guy, you're paying for my next horse-riding lesson."

Your snarky response is droned out by Lucifer dropping to his feet in front of the both of you. He looks ready to rip every limb from your body and then feed them to the other's corpse, but he restrains himself, taking a deep breath and folding his wings in.

"Have you any idea what you've done, imp?" He says in a deep voice, his every syllable sending chills down your spine.

Blitz goes to respond, but you know him talking will only worsen the situation. So, you jump in, shoving a hand over your boss's mouth and speaking.

"Yes, My Lord. And from the bottoms of our hearts, we apologize, but we really must get going-"

Lucifer holds up a hand, commanding your silence. He blinks at you, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. His true form slowly melts away as he studies you.

"Y/n?" He questions softly, as though he thought he'd never see you again.

You purse your lips, half in fear, half in annoyance. Lucifer has always done things on his own time (not including his fall, of course), and that doesn't seem to have changed.

"Yup." You eventually force out. The Devil blinks one more before a smile starts to dawn on his face.

"Heyy, how've you been? Long time no see," And he brings you into a bro hug like you're long-lost friends and not past fuckbuddies.

"I've been great," you respond hesitantly once he releases you from the hug. Maybe being casual, playing it cool, will release you from the Devil's clutches. "Got another job, made some new friends. What about you?"

Lucifer beams with your reciprocation of friendliness. "Yes, I've heard of your developing social life. Al says hi, by the way. And life is great; Charlie's in on another project- I think it's a hotel -and no demons have caused an uproar. It's practically paradise."

"Good, good. Listen, it's been a good chat, but could we schedule for another time? I kinda have somewhere to be." It's not a lie- you do want to get home soon. Where there are no Satans chasing you down for small talk.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Do you still have that number? I'll text you the address of a nice little tea shop for next week."

"Looking forward to it," You laugh nervously and start backing away, grabbing Blitz while doing so. "All righty, I'll see you then!" And with that, you're off, walking as quickly as possible without running.

It's silent until you get into the huge elevator that'll ship you back to Imp City. Blitz is next to you, giving you a weird look.

"What?" You snap.

"Was he good in bed?"

"BliTZ-"

"Hey, he almost blew us up. I deserve an answer, at least."

You sigh. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes, it is." Your boss responds, slouching into his spot as though preparing to wait you out.

The elevator is quiet while your resolve holds for a solid two seconds.

"He did this thing-"

"Fuck yeah he did. He's Satan." Blitz interrupts.

You hit him with a glare. "Do you want this or not?"

"I do, I do. Sorry. Go on."

You stare at him a moment longer before continuing. "This thing with his hands-"

"I'd be disappointed if he didn't."

"BLITZ."

What do you think? Series or no? OR I branch out and do Hazbin Hotel oneshots? Let me know!

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #blitzo x reader #blitzo x y/n #lucifer #helluva boss x y/n #x reader #fanfiction #lilith #satan #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel

[suuuupernovaaa]

srew

srew [sɾ·ɛw] vin. dance

You teach Neteyam a traditional Metkayina dance, and he can't get you out of his head.

Perched on a rock near the water, just on the outskirts of the party, Neteyam crosses his arms and watches the intricate dance. The Metkayina sway and twist, coming together and pulling apart, moving their arms in intricate patterns together, and he is in awe.

Somehow, Lo'ak is keeping up with his dance partner, Tsireya. He would've never thought Lo'ak could move in a way that could almost be described as gracefully, but Tsireya is a great teacher, after all.

Two women have approached Neteyam to dance, but he's too nervous about the intricacy of the movement on the dance floor, and he's declined them both - but then, he sees her approaching.

He doesn't know her name, but he's seen her around. Tsireya told him that she has a garden, just on the other side of the tree line, and spends most of her time tending to it in order to help feed the clan.

She's tall, taller than most of the Metkayina woman around her age, which Neteyam guesses is 19 or 20, the same as him. Her hair is long, nearly to her waist, and always in one thick braid. Something about the way she walks, the sway of it, and the dirt permanently under her fingernails, has always drawn Neteyam's attention.

He knows that if she asks him to dance, he'll have to make a fool of himself, because he won't be able to say no.

--

I pull my braid over my shoulder, nervously fingering at it as I approach Neteyam. Over the course of the evening, I have watched two women approach and try to bring him to the dance floor, and he's said no both times.

So, I've decided on another approach, one that will hopefully allow him to look less nervous here, and allow me to spend a little time with him. Admittedly, I've wanted that for a while.

"Neteyam Sully, what are you doing over here all alone? All of your siblings are participating in the fun," I say, trying to sound light-hearted and not nervous as I arrive at the rock he's perched upon.

He shrugs and smiles. "Just watching," he replies, and it's followed by a nearly-awkward pause until he says, "Are you having fun?"

"I am. But I thought... you might want to learn a dance. They can be kind of complex. I could teach you, over here. So you don't have to try it out there." I nod over my shoulder, to the crowd of dancers.

Neteyam stares at me, considering for only a moment, before standing up and jumping down. Relief washes over me; I wouldn't have been able to stand it if I was the third woman rejected by him this evening.

"Okay, but I probably won't be any good at it," he says, pushing his braids out of his face and taking a few steps towards me.

"It's easier than it looks," I say, extending my arms to him. He takes his hands in mine. "It's just a few basic steps to start, and we'll build on it, okay?"

He takes a deep breath, and follows my feet, concentrating so hard that it makes me smile.

We repeat the same six steps, over and over, until he seems to have it down.

"Now, with your arms, like this," I say, stepping closer to him, and he mimics the sweeping motions with my arms. We add that in, practicing until he no longer stumbles, or forgets. All the while, he's extremely focused, watching my movements, mirroring them.

"You're a natural!" I exclaim, and Neteyam laughs. "Now, pull me in close, and lock your arm through mine, like this," I instruct, and he follows my lead. He pulls me in close, and I step away, repeating the dance, and then I pull him in close again.

We smile at each other, almost nose to nose.

"Maybe next celebration, you can join with everyone," I say after much practice. We've stopped dancing, but Neteyam is still holding my hands, and I don't have any plans to pull away.

"Only if you're there with me." He squeezes my hands as he says it, and I try not to blush.

"I would be honored to dance with you, Neteyam Sully."

--

Neteyam walks home with a grin painted ear to ear that night, not even noticing as his mother sneaks up behind him.

"Did you have a fun night?" she asks, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. "You did not join the dancing. Your brother made quite a show of himself."

Neteyam smiles, and Neytiri laughs.

"He danced well," Neteyam says. "I don't know the dances."

"Oh, I think you know them a little bit. Now."

Neteyam raises his brow at her, and she laughs teasingly. "Y/N is a very nice girl. She contributes much to her people, with her garden."

"Y/N," Neteyam says, realizing that he didn't ask her for her name. "Yeah. She's nice."

Neytiri touches her son's shoulder as they near their home. "She would make any man a fine mate."

Neteyam rolls his eyes. "Mom!"

But Neytiri notices the blush on his cheek, and saw the smile on his face while he danced with the Metkayina woman.

If she were to place a bet, she would say there would be a new Sully within the next six months.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar 2 #avatar twow

[yandere-romanticaa]

I can't stop imagining sugar daddies Ayato and Childe and sugar mommy Yelan, goodness me. They all have their similarities but are also different. It comes in layers y'know?

Ayato fits into the archetype almost perfectly - born and raised rich, he finds you on the street and takes you in as his plaything. You do various favors and entertain him while he clothes you, feeds you and spoils you. Anything you even see let alone mention is yours, there is no competition. Word spreads fast through the entirety of Inazuma of the Yashiro Commissioner's little plaything and many are eager to see you for themselves. Ayato loves to show you off but he's sadly not as patient and sly as he likes to think when it comes to you. There is no one in Inazuma who could ever be better than him, he knows this. And yet he still can't stand the thought of another undressing you with their eyes, let alone hands.

Archons help him if anyone even tried because he would have them chopped off right there on the spot.

Kamisato Ayato is awfully possessive of his toy. He expects nothing but loyalty from you. If he tells you that the sky is green and the rain is actually the gods crying you better believe him. It's the least you could do.

Yelan and Childe would have very similar attitudes towards their baby. Both individuals are so incredibly busy so they're rarely home but they make sure to send you all the money you could ever dream of.

Once they're back from their respective trips all they want is to bask in your attention.

Yelan wants to eat and drink with you as she listens to you babble about your day to day life. She of course made very clear boundaries in the start that this relationship is purely transactional but that line blurs the more time she spends with you. With her insane connections you could never leave, don't even bother.

But Childe? Geez, he's less a sugar daddy and more a doting boyfriend. Really, there is no line to blur as there was none to begin with. Chances are you're just using him as a walking wallet but he really doesn't mind, the only condition he has for you is to stay. No matter how gruesome and bloody things get, you cannot leave.

That is his one and only rule.

🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @alatusprinz, @mayulli @mod-kisa-blog, @kalopses-sonderes, @juuuuuj101010, @cc-6789, @yumekos-gamble

#sugar baby au #yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #yelan x reader #yelan #ayato #genshin ayato #ayato kamisato #yandere kamisato ayato #yandere yelan #yandere yelan x reader #childe yandere #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #genshin ayato x reader #genshin ajax #genshin yelan

[veinsfullofstars]

-trips and drops all my eggs on the ground-

(ID: A small compilation of Kirby series fanart featuring Magolor in various silly and disconnected scenarios, with guest appearances by Marx, Kirby, and the rest of the RtDL team as well. More detailed descriptions and transcripts under the cut. END ID.)

I sketched out most of these months ago while I was playing through KRtDLDX for the first time. The Epilogue was giving me thoughts and the brainworms were feeding. Still, I didn’t really have any big piece ideas for these, so I figured I’d just slap them all into a comp, throw some lines and color on, and call it done. A little loose on context, I admit, but I think they came out okay in the end. I just love drawing this wretched man (and the clown that bothers him).

Sketches started 02/28/23, render started 11/02/23, finished 11/04/23. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 11/04/23.

---

Image desc. & transcripts (in no particular order):

-Magolor points to a barrel, smiling pleasantly, and says “Trust me, it’s foolproof! Now get in~” Marx looks on unimpressed.

-Magolor (in his tattered gray outfit) grabs his head with a look of fear on his face, saying “No one told me there’d be consequences to my actions!”

-Magolor (in his Tome Trackers outfit) winks and twirls his mustache, saying “Of course I’m trustworthy! You can tell by my mustache and ridiculously high IQ!”

-Shopkeeper Magolor holding the Gem Apple sapling and giving the viewer a thumbs-up, saying “That’s right! Spin-off games have canon in ‘em! It’s all over for you lore bitches!”

-Magolor happily lifting Kirby by the hands via Helper mode

-a large human hand squeezing a frightened and very unhappy-looking Magolor

-Magolor smiling smugly while the RtDL gang (off-screen save for their hands) all point their weapons at him (see the Knife Cat meme)

-Magolor showing Marx a Gem Apple, a look of wonder in the jester’s eyes

-Magolor weeping and clutching his head as a pair of large hands reminiscent of his Soul form loom around him, ready to grab

-Shopkeeper Magolor smiling with his hands together, an arrow pointing at him reading “no longer evil :)”

-Magolor (in his tattered gray outfit), first standing neutrally, then looking down at his hands, then shrugging with his eyes shut, saying “Oh, well. Time to learn nothing.”

-Shopkeeper Magolor showing off a Gem Apple to the viewer, saying “This apple cured my sociopathy! Imagine what it could do for you!”

-Magolor and Marx sitting back-to-back on the floor, the former fixing a pocket watch with a screwdriver, the latter propped up on his side watching a Minecraft let’s play on a purple childproof tablet; Mags says, “So, anyway, that’s how I lost everything to a baby, went to hell, fought my demons, and ultimately grew as a person.” Marx responds in disinterest, “Uh huh, sure, buddy.”

-Magolor winking at the viewer with a hand on his chest, saying “Of course I have a heart. Several, in fact! In really nice glass jars.”

-Magolor and Marx holding hands (er, well, Mags holding the end of Marx’s hat like a hand), facing away from each other, looking flustered and nervous; an arrow points at them reading “Shhh… they’re on their first date

-Marx smiling innocently at the viewer, eyes shut, one tooth peeking out, waving the end of his hat; an arrow points at him reading “causes problems on purpose”

-Magolor looking at something off-screen, a hand over his eyes as if to block the sun

-a tear in the background shaped eerily like a smile, a goopy drip connecting top and bottom, a blank red eye in the center peering out from within

#veins art #veins ships #veins fanart #fanart #kirby series #kirby #magolor #shopkeeper magolor #interdimensional magolor #marx kirby #bandana waddle dee #meta knight #king dedede #magolor epilogue spoilers #magolor x marx #marxolor #I care him a normal amount #*vacillates wildly between wanting to dunk on him forever and wanting to give him a warm blanket and some starsdamn therapy* #it's me - I'm lore bitches #“consequences? for MY actions?” it's more likely than you think #gonna smuggle that clown back into Popstar in a barrel #I swear Marx's hat changes in size every time I draw it #also fun fact - that's my hand :D #eyes tw #eye contact tw #veinsfullofstars

[chrollohearttags]

musician!eren proposes to influencer!y/n before goin on tour. when they get home, it's romantic as hell; candles lit, rose petals in the bed. Overall, jus some sweet ass romantic soft sex.

my faves! my faves! my faves! 😩 and here I was having withdrawals for them. say less.

cw: just some sickeningly sweet sex with my fav ship :( , food and ice play (if you squint), oral (f. receiving) pregnancy mention, breeding

Eren’s comeback tour was something himself, you and all his fans alike had been anticipating. Going from city to city..performing a track list comprised of new joints and old favorites. He received amicable praise on his shows and had quite the time while on the road. Especially with his favorite lady by his side. The two of you exploring the country’s finest as future husband and wife. See, Eren had just popped the question shortly before he started his string of concerts. Elated as you were, more so to be by his side..you guys hadn’t properly celebrated the proposal..at least in the way that he wanted to! He wasn’t one for showing off or flexing for the public eye but lord, did this man go all out in private! The day you touched down back in your city, (y/n) was in for one hell of a surprise! Having already called up his assistant and some other help prior, Eren wanted you guys’ homecoming to be one that would never be forgotten. In addition to having them decorate the entire living room with a giant rose arrangement that spelled out ‘will you marry me?’ setting in the corner. As if he needed that validation once more. “I just wanna hear you say it again…tell me you’re mine..” cooing sweetly as you stood at the bottom of the staircase; immersed in his grasp and his finger underneath your chin as he gave you sweet kisses. And you of course said yes, with the same elation and excitement in your eyes as the initial one. He also a had a line of gifts waiting for you.

He’s been holding back and resisting his urges all throughout the tour. Being stuffed up on that bus with other people made it quite irksome. Sure, you had your fair share of hookups on there but not the experience you deserved. (Y/N) was no longer just some hopeless fling..a girl he’d fly out when he wanted some ass. No, you were his wife, bride to be and the woman he’d undoubtedly spend the rest of his life with. You deserved to be treated like a queen..his queen. Eventually, those cute little butterfly kisses turned to a full blown make-out session..getting lost in one another right there. However, there was way more to this extravagant surprise.. “..let’s go upstairs, okay? Get a little more comfortable.” muttering gently against your lips in a light huff before tugging away.

awaiting you beyond those doors was something you wouldn’t have believed. Akin to a scene from a movie, there were red rose petals scattered about the floor, leading up to the bed, candles flickering and burning underneath the dimmed lighting..along with some champagne, chocolate covered strawberries and some ice displayed neatly on a nearby stand. It was like a scene from a movie but never did you think you’d experience this in your lifetime. “Erennn..you didn’t..this is—“ before you could get too teary eyed, he grabs your hand, placing a kiss to your forehead and ushers you over to the bed. “This is all for you, princess..for us. It’s just me and you now. No interruptions, no work..I’m all yours.” Affirming all of this whole slowly removing the straps of that silk bodycon dress from your smooth shoulders and replacing them with kisses; that ethereal complexion glistening underneath the embers of the flames.

There was one more humble request he had asked of his team and that was to be left the hell alone for the next week. To not be disturbed with anything not pertaining to the matters of your body. He wanted you to himself..selfishly and hopelessly so he could make up for the all the lost time he had taken away. Starting by feeding you the strawberries..rubbing them slowly against your lips before letting you take a bite. Meanwhile, he’s starting to come out his clothes as well..discarding that black button down and slacks he has on. Far more dressed up than his normal Dunks and gym sweats and the only thing you wanted was to see him out of it. So low and behold, that’s what happened. You two eventually rendered yourselves nude, stripped out of everything and entangled in the bedsheets. Rubbing your hands across each other’s bodies, kissing and touching like you couldn’t get enough. Working his way down your neck to your stomach and thighs with a frozen cube between his teeth, Eren made a trail of gentle kisses all over that beautiful body..marking you up inch by inch until he reached your soaking center. Parting your thighs so that he could get in between. He wanted to take his precious time and spoil you with all the love he neglected to give out on tour..

taking the time to carefully taste your flavor; flick his tongue up and throughout your folds and suck on that sensitive clit, rub some cool ice on it and let it melt against your warmth until you’d fill his mouth with your sweet juices. Underneath those candle lights, your future husband masked his muffled whimpers with that plump, newly waxed mound. Your fingers tucked between the strands of his hair, guiding him along and he’d let you. All those nights you had to cut your sessions short out of fear of waking someone or him being too exhausted to do much..he wanted you to take all those frustrations out of his face! Ride his tongue until you had the sides of his face sticky as far as he was concerned. “You can come as many times as you want, beautiful. Don’t hold back..” encouraging with your fingers intertwined as he held your hands. And that you did, even stimulating yourself to tears, which he was happy to wipe away as he leaned up to let your lips meet in a steamy, passionate kiss.

“I love you, (y/n)…I’m so sorry we didn’t get to do this right the first time but I promise I’ll make it up to you..” saying all of this as he’s slowly making his way inside of you. Legs spreading on instinct and wrapping around his waist before he began to thrust. The two of you have holding each other close as he begins thrusting up into you. Your hands around his neck as he cradled his face into the crook of yours. Slowly he begins to give you long, leg shaking strokes.

Ones that have you clutching his shoulder blades and clawing your nails into his back..oh, he loves when he’s fucking you so good, it leaves him scarred. A sign that he’s doing it right. Eventually, the bed begins to shake and you’re moving the headboard. It’s getting deeper; swelling up inside of you and (y/n) just relentlessly begs for more. “Don’t stop, baby. Please keep fucking me…just like that.” Crying out in a tearful plea..whimpering and moaning as he gave every inch and part of himself to the woman he loved. Soon, those same tears would fall from his cheeks and he’d just push past that tightness, finding home inside of you..the feeling, the sensation of knowing that this was his and no one else would ever make you feel this way. You’d explain breathy ‘I love you’s’ and climaxes alike. He’s continue to make you come and before you knew it, he had filled you up twice. Flipping you around in every position until you found yourself on top of him, hand to his chest and on your final strides. Those green eyes glossed over in pure ecstasy but he had to let you have one more. Lying across his torso with his hands on your ass, you’d grind slow and let him pulsate inside of you. “Swear ‘m get you pregnant…oh fuck. Want you to have my baby, (y/n)..” whether he was delirious or dead serious, you wanted to feel that warm nut spill into you one last time. With that sweet voice, you’d urge him or rather beg for his last big load. You tell him it’s his and he takes that as he should, pouring every last drop he had to offer into that womb.

you lie there completely spent, latched in each other’s arms and ready for this type of treatment until death did you part.

#eren x black fem!reader #eren x black yn #eren x fem!reader #eren x reader #aot x black reader #black reader #eren aot #eren jaeger imagines #eren smut #attack on titan eren #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jeager headcanons #eren jaeger #eren imagines #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren fluff #black fanfic writer #black reader smut #aot smut #musician x influencer au #musician eren #musician au #smut fanfiction #smut with feelings #smut warning #god I love them so much #this was so much longer than I expected I’m so sorry

[malewifesband]

Here is a Labru fic I wrote over the last week or so. Post-canon. Extremely sexually explicit, 18+ only please. Trans male Kabru, and yes, Laios is a little chasery about it--be honest, you should expect this of him. 7.5k words.

Summary: With Marcille and Falin both gone temporarily from the castle*, Kabru and Laios have had a high workload, and the stress has started to get to them. Kabru has an ingenious solution to relieve stress, but Laios is not so sure it's a good idea: his feelings for Kabru are confused enough without adding the concept of platonic dick-touching to the mix.

*Will be followed up on in its own fic.

This and future fics will be filed under the tag #the compendium; because I dont like any fanfic sites.

Lots of things seemed to demand Laios' time: a deluge of common folk with grievances and indignant nobles angry at their recent vassalage and farm owners who didn't like whatever ordinance Laois had passed to increase food production because they didn't want to milk minotaurs and still more peasants complaining about the farmer he just saw, and on and on, forever, without end, it would rain pissed off subjects for forty days and forty nights and Laios could drown in the all the information they wanted him to track. Kingship was a nightmare.

He could and would say it was worth the pain to see when his plans succeed and happy faces of people whose lives were improved, but in honesty what actually made it bearable was the company and help of Falin, Marcille, and Kabru. Falin and Marcille were wonderful court mages and fantastic researchers, who made all his stupid ideas into real, actionable policy, and Kabru… Kabru helped him get even that far. It was incredible how quickly he would catch onto complex social dynamics and dissect them, remix them into something Laios could parse, and whisper it to him on the throne. All without missing the next beat.

And for the past month, he’s been over-relying on Kabru, and neither of them have been able to get away from the castle. Marcille and Falin have been having a rough patch, and decided they needed time together away from the castle. Which of course, Laios let them go take a vacation��he owed them that much. But while they've been away, tensions have exploded. The resurfacing of the Golden Continent has lead to droughts across the land as crop fields used to an abundance of rain from the coastline suddenly found themselves far inland, and foreign land holders were demanding compensation, and of course their rulers backed them as it meant they would not have to pay to feed the victims of an impending famine. (And no one seemed willing to farm monsters to eat despite their abundance. Close-minded jerks–it’s a necessity!)

The ordeal has been taxing on them both, and Maybe Kabru more than Laios. He’d been taking dinner in his quarters the last two days, and he's been standing about a foot further from the throne than he was before. Odd little distances from Laios he didn't take before. Laios feels like he's barely seen him in a week. He’d reminded him to eat and sleep plenty, and Kabru insisted that he had been. Laios wasn't sure what else he could really do.

A line of delegates had been leaving the dining room, a late meeting over dinner that perhaps no one wanted to have, one night when Kabru leaned in again, just as the door closed, and said, “Laios, can I talk to you about something, man to man?”

Laios was not sure how else they were meant ro talk, being as they were both men and thus couldn't talk, say, woman to woman or dog to dog, but he replied, “Sure, what's up?”

Kabru’s face darkened. “Not here. Let's talk in your chambers. I’ll meet you there in 30 minutes.”

It didn't feel like a long wait. He’d only really started to settle down when Kabru knocked at the door.

“Come in,” He called, kicking off his boots. Kabru entered, smiled at him, and then turned to bolt the door behind him. He took a deep breath and turned back to face Laios.

“You know I love this job,” he says.

“That’s great–” Laios starts to exclaim, but Kabru holds up a finger to silence him

“BUT. I have no time for women anymore, and it's been… frustrating.”

“What about Rin? She's a woman,” he said. She was pretty and they seemed pretty close.

“That's very true, Laois, Rin is a woman, but she's also like a sister to me. I could never date her.”

“Do you want time off?” He couldn't imagine running things without him, and Yaad insists that because he doesn't know how long he'll last in this world, that he should refrain from interfering so they do not depend too much on his service when he finally passes… Surely though, he’d be okay with filling in for Kabru for a couple of days? Maybe best not to tell him it's so Kabru can go on dates.

“No, it's not a real solution,” he says. He takes a deep breath, and his face flushes, getting darker again. “I don't think I could get away enough to meet my needs, I’d still be sexually frustrated.”

People get mad at you if you suggest they just go to a brothel for an hour or so, so Laios doesn't say that. Instead he tries, “You could invite a girl over for dinner, that seems like a cool date: dinner in a castle!”

The flush darkened.

“That's too serious. I’m not really looking for a girlfriend right now, not with how much work there is to do.” He averted his eyes from Laios' face, and crossed his arms.

“We could have an informal dinner–”

“Laios.” he said, firmly, like calling on a misbehaving dog. Something about that thought made Laios' heart flutter.”I’m trying to ask something of you. Please don't make any suggestions yet.”

He looked sweaty.

“Okay.”

He took another deep breath.

“I think it'd be easiest if we masturbated each other.”

Woah. Laois’ face fell into shock, open mouthed and wide-eyed like a fish gasping on deck.

“C-couldn't you just do that alo–”

Once again, Kabru cut him off, this time by touching his elbow.

“You’ve been pent up too,” he said softly, a small smile on his face, which had an odd effect with him still being flushed and sweaty.

Laios had been trying to pay attention to Kabru the way Kabru pays attention to others (it seemed fair to do that for him when he does it for everyone else), and so he knew this was the manner he talked to people he wanted to convince of something they already said they didn't want. In 15 instances of him doing this, Laios had seen him succeed 11 times. It seemed to work by making himself seem nonthreatening–he leans forward in a way that makes him smaller and exposes the neck, and his voice becomes quieter, almost like a purr, and he always smiles but never broadly in a way that shows his teeth.

He was starting to wonder how instance 16 would turn out. So he went quiet while Kabru went on.

“You’ve been as moody as I have, and I know what incredible stress you've been under with Marcille and Falin away, and your other friends unable to visit… We need to find a way for you to relax, and I promise it’ll be more satisfying if you let someone else touch you.”

That much, Laios knew, was true. Like trying to give yourself a hug, there was a certain sensation that was lacking–maybe the warmth of another person, or the fact that you can feel both the skin of your hand and the skin of your penis/body pressed together that makes it less powerful. He didn't have a ton of experience though, none of it with other men–though maybe that was for the best, since Kabru was not like other men and Laios was unsure what exactly to expect from him, genitally speaking. And all of his experiences had been transactional. And not that great.

Honestly, trying to navigate this strange social experience sounded far more stressful than a good orgasm could relieve. Just the thought of trying to figure out where to put his hands and at what point is it sex and can you have sex with your friends and just be friends and and and–

The hand at his elbow slid up to his bicep, and Kabru's other hand slipped around his opposite wrist.

“Tell me what's on your mind, Laios,” he said, gentle and firm.

“Do you have a cock? I’ve never held another man's cock and wouldn't it just be sex either way?” he answered all in a rush, heat rising from his neck to the tops of his ears. Kabru's grip tightened and then relaxed again.

“Yes and no to both,” he said.

“Wait, yes or no to which?”

“Yes and no to both,” he repeated, “If I have a cock depends on what you're asking for, and it's only sex if we say it is and we are saying it's not! It's not as complicated as you're making it out to be.”

Laios disagreed–this was already complicated. It seemed it would only get more complicated if they went through with it. And maybe even more complicated than that if they didn't after this conversation.

“I’ll be gentle, Laios, you're not the first virgin I’ve been with,” he said with a little laugh.

“Hm? I’m not a virgin,” Laios stated.

Kabru's eyes widened a bit, eyebrows raised.

“You… aren't? You had a girlfriend?”

Laios shook his head. “I had a fiancee, but I didn't really know her.”

Kabru exhaled loudly.

“You know what, it doesn't matter. You just need to tell me if you want to try it out.”

Laois really wasn't sure. Something about the whole concept seemed off, but maybe it was just that it felt so sudden and out of the blue. Maybe Kabru had been thinking about it a while, and this really was his best solution. He pictured Kabru calm and content, like how he looks when he takes his tea in the morning before the stress of the day creeps in. If it was really what would make him happy, it didn't seem right to deny him.

“Kabru…” he said low, unsure how to voice what was on his mind.

Kabru's hand slid into his. It was warm. Comforting.

“Yes?”

“Is this really what you want? You're not just asking me because you think I’d want it?”

This question was apparently very funny. He chuckled, then let his face spread into a grin, and laughed heartily. His hand stayed in Laois' and the one at his bicep grabbed at his shoulder now as if to support him.

“I am doing my best to convince you this is a good idea, and you're worried I just think you want it! Do you see how silly that sounds?” he said once his giggle fit wore down.

“I guess,” Laios replied, “But you lied about wanting to eat monsters.”

“I wasn't the one convincing you to eat them, though.”

“I still don't get how it's not just sex though.”

“Think of it as platonic sex between friends if you must then, just don't go telling people we're having sex or they'll get the wrong idea. Actually, please just keep this secret in general.”

Why does sex always have to be some secret thing no one should know about?

Content that Kabru really did want to have not-sex with him (and now discontented with many other things), Laios was ready to give his answer: “Okay, we can do this.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Kabru started leading him to the bed.

“Oh you meant now,” he said.

“Did you… did you want to wait?” Kabru said cautiously. Their hands were still held together. Warm. Comforting. If none of the rest of this was fun, Laios would like to start holding hands with him more at least.

“Now is as good a time as any,” he answered.

“Because it’d make you nervous anticipating it otherwise.”

It wasn't a question, because if Kabru says something about what you think, it's usually because you did and he knows it. And it would make Laois nervous, sitting on his throne, listening to all those people, and having Kabru lean over him all day knowing what they'd be doing later. Which makes it sound very erotic, too. But in that romantic story way where you can just skip over the part where you have to do a lot that day and it'd be weird and honestly kind of strenuous to just be horny all day long: i.e. not actually all that erotic.

Then again, that last hour of waiting…

“Laios, sit on the bed, please.”

He sat on the bed as commanded, while Kabru put out the lights. Perhaps the dark made it less like sex. He left one dim candle and returned.

There was a poof as Kabru sank into the feather mattress beside him. It was quiet for a second.

It felt like Laios should say something, but what? It felt like all the thoughts had emptied from his brain, it was overwhelming, something was about to happen and it felt as dark inside his head as it did in the room. Like a flickering something in the back of his skull that he couldn't look straight at or it would blind him, but it was too dim to reveal anything else on its own.

“I’m going to undress. You should too, let's not overtax the launderer.”

Commands were good. He could follow commands. He stripped off his doublet and shirt sleeves–he had already ditched his finery as soon as he could get away with it–and started unlacing his breeches. His eyes were quickly adjusting to the dim glow, and now he could see Kabru’s outline.

His shirt was off, and he was bent double to remove his own shoes, showing off his back. He was lean, but you could see the strength in him, like a runner or a gymnast. He sat up, shoes tossed aside, and suddenly bucked his hips, and his pants and underwear dragged down his legs. With a little kick, they too lay discarded in the dark and leaving Kabru’s crotch exposed. Thick pubic hair shined there, but no external genitalia that Laios could see, at least not at this angle.

He was actually very curious about it. Certain monsters endogenously change their sex, such as Basilisks and some varieties of Merrow, under certain environmental or social pressures. Sometimes even due to unique genetics not found in others of their species! Kabru had said that he’d been taking a masculinizing hormone since he was old enough to start puberty naturally (apparently elves were rather accepting about such change), so he didn't develop breasts, but what effect that has on human genitalia, Laios was uncertain of. The monsters he knew of that could transition naturally did not have human-analogous genitalia, so he couldn't really conjecture.

“Your breeches are still halfway down your thighs, your majesty,” Kabru said. He laughed.

“Um. Sorry…” Laios hurriedly finished undressing.

And then it was still again.

“We don't have to do this if you don't want to,” he said. They were almost shoulder to shoulder, close enough that Laios could sense his nearness of him by the radiating warmth alone. He felt cold sitting there naked. He wanted to get closer. He didn't know how.

“...I do want to. I just…” he muttered. Kabru didn't prompt him to continue. Instead he put his arm around his shoulders and waited. After a second, he found the words to say, “I feel like I don't know what to do here, or what you want from me. I don't –I don't want you to not like it.”

“You can start by not trying to ogle me,” he replied.

“O-oh, sorry! I just want to know about how sex transitions work for humans! You see, a basilisk hen can become a rooster under specific circumstances, but they have cloaca, so their external genitalia remains the same, and it's similar for merrows, which you might know as the fish-type of merman–though I suppose you could use certain kinds of healing spells to create a penis and testes if you wanted one–”

“Laios, my friend, can we please focus on the task at hand?”

He sounded angry but didn't pull his arm away.

“Sorry! I’m nervous!”

Kabru sighed deeply again.

“If you need me to tell you what to do, then I will. But you better do it the way I tell you. And if you do…” he leaned in closer, the whisper of his breath grazing Laios' ear, “then I will enjoy it. Understood?”

A lump had just formed in his throat, so Laios could only nod once, animated enough for three.

“Good. I’m going to start by touching you. Try to stay still or lean against me.”

The hand at his shoulder began kneading there–at first it was a dull ache, but it soon began to melt into that warmth-comfort that being held by Kabru felt like. He groaned. Kabru's other hand snaked around his waist, more caressing than the deeper massage at the shoulder.

“You carry a lot of tension lately.” Kabru's voice was so quiet, and spoke directly in Laios' ear now, not an inch between them.

The kneading hand moved from the flesh of his shoulder to his neck. His fingers would press gently against his carotid, and the intimacy of it felt exciting. Like a wolf exposing his neck to his packmates, an ultimate show of trust. ‘You could kill me, but I know you wouldn't because of how much I matter to you.’

His nails dragged against his skin, just barely catching as he pulled his fingers back.

Kabru rested his head against Laios' back, nuzzling the nape of his neck, making his hair stand up. The caressing at his waist became firm, then Kabru dug his thumb into the hollow of his hip. Laois' cock twitched.

With excruciating langor, Kabru pushed that thumb down towards his groin, to the crook of his thigh. His knuckles brushed against his shaft as he began rubbing his inner thigh. The increasing tightness in his groin was becoming impossible to ignore.

“Should we kiss?” Laios blurted out.

Kabru paused his ministrations. And that was agonizing too.

“You want to kiss me?” he asked.

“It feels like we should be.”

He started rubbing his thigh again, but on the top of it, not the hypersensitive area near his half-erect cock.

“...We can try it,” Kabru answered. He spoke so slowly and softly, it was more like he was talking to Laois' shoulder than to Laios proper.

He pulled his hand away from Laios' thigh and cupped his jaw instead. Laios turned towards him, and tried to mirror him, bringing a hand to cup Kabru's face too.

It felt incredible to touch him, it made him feel silly that he hadn't been touching him before now. His skin felt so soft, with a hint of the roughness of stubble down his jaw. He rubbed his thumb over the apple of his cheek, where the flesh was plumpest. He wondered how Kabru's lips would feel.

He didn't wonder long.

Kabru pulled him closer by the nape of his neck until their lips pressed together. The feeling was difficult to describe: Kabru's lips felt soft against his, pillowy, but also a bit rough because they were a bit chapped, like he hadn't had enough water, but it wasn't really those qualities that seemed to matter most–it was this almost electrical feeling, like a static shock that surged through him through his heart to the base of his spine. Laois threaded his fingers into the hair at the back of Kabru's neck, enjoying the silky texture, and tried to deepen the kiss, get more of this feeling–

Clack!

Their teeth clashed and Kabru drew away quickly. He took his hand back from Laios' thigh to tend his teeth.

“Try to walk before you can run,” he hissed behind his hand.

“What does that mean? You're trying to have us masturbate each other and I’m just trying to kiss!”

“If you want to stop–”

“No, I don't want to stop! I just want you to make sense!”

“You are so frustrating!” he cried and fell back on the bed.

It just doesn't make sense! There was some essential divide between the way Kabru was acting and what he was saying and it bothered Laios. For once, he didn't feel like he’d done something wrong here. Except hurting his teeth (his own ached a little too).

“I’m sorry I hurt your teeth,” he said.

“It's fine.” He didn't sit back up.

“Can you please tell me what it is you actually want? None of this makes sense to me. You say you're sexually frustrated, you need to get laid, but we don't tell me to touch you or how you want it–”

“I was going to when I was ready.”

“You couldn't wait to do this, I don't believe that if your goal was quid-pro-quo orgasm, you wouldn't want to go first.”

“And why is that so unbelievable that I’d want you to cum first?”

“I don't know, it was just weird how you were making it all romantic and sensual but you say you don't want it to be romantic.”

He still wasn't getting up, so Laios fell back with him. Now they were both laying down with their legs hung over the side. Laios' erection flopped onto his belly.

“I can't believe you're still hard right now,” Kabru huffs.

“I can't control it, it does what it wants,” he answered.

Kabru chuckled, but then went quiet. Laios wasn't sure what to say. He hoped he hadn't ruined it–he really was enjoying it.

Laios turned towards him on the bed, to look at him, and said, “It’s fun, even though I feel like I don't understand you.”

Kabru didn't turn to face him, he stayed on his back, looking up at the ceiling. But he did talk again.

“I’m sorry. I–I don't know why I thought this was a good idea.” He sounded upset.

Laios grabbed his hand, and hoped that it felt as nice to Kabru as it felt for him.

“Laios…” he said, squeezing his hand, “I think I like you. Romantically, not just as a friend. I’m sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

And that… That made more sense.

“Why didn't you just say something?” 

“I’ve tried so many times and the words just die in my throat! Do you know how hard this is? I’ve never liked guys before and now I do and it's you! You, who I spend so much time with and none of it alone–the few times I’ve gotten you alone and tried to flirt or drop a hint or anything, you just don't seem to get it! And then I get so nervous about how to get through to you, I feel ill.”

“You weren't actually sick?!” 

That made Kabru turn around. He slapped his hand to Laios' cheek and pulled. 

“Focus, stupid!” he said.

“Okay, okay!” 

His hold released. But the hand stayed. Laios couldn't help but smile: it really was nice.

“I like it when you touch me,” he said, realized how that sounded, and corrected, “Not just sexually but all the time,” realized how that might sound also, “But I’d like it if you touched me more just maybe as like a boyfriend instead of whatever it is you were doing before!”

Kabru pulled closer to him again–another kiss. This time, Laios let him do what he wanted. It was tender, it sent a shiver through Laios to try not grab him like he was trying to devour him whole, but he couldn't stop himself from cupping his hand over Kabru's and squeezing tight.

Too soon, Kabru pulled away again. He pressed his forehead to Laios' so the tips of their noses touched.

“I’ll fuck you as a boyfriend then,” he purred.

The blood rushed back to Laios’ dick so fast that it left him dizzy. 

“Just lie like that a minute, I need to grab something.”

He did as he was told, but he did peek. 

The candlelight only offered a glimpse of Kabru's silhouette as he got up and knelt by his bag–Laios hadn't noticed he'd brought one. He dug around, and Laios heard the clink of glass against glass. When he stood back up, he held a bottle, some larger, translucent object Laios couldn't make out, and what looked like a bunch of leather straps, and he held something else behind his back. He placed the leather straps and the glass bottle on the end table, and held out the larger object. It was a glass phallus, complete with textured bumps and a tapered end to keep it in place once inside someone. It was fairly small, as phalluses go, but it looked like it would feel perfect inside you. 

“Get up on the pillows, and lie on your back.”

He scooched up and fluffed the pillows.

“Can you guess what I'm going to do with this?” he asked, very cheerily.

“Um. Put it in me?” He’d typically used his fingers when touching himself, and didn't have something as nice as this. 

“Wrong! I'm putting this one in me–though if you ask nicely, I might let you do it. But this–” he pulled his hidden hand from behind his back. Held in his grasp was something Laios had never seen before. It was certainly also a phallus, certainly human shaped (complete with balls), but of a material he’d never encountered–not glass, nor the stuffed leather ones they sell in sex shops with the irritating looking stitches, but something stiff yet flexible enough to bend with the incredible girth of the thing. Maybe rubber? You couldn't easily get rubber on this continent since the trees won't grow here–it must've been expensive. 

“This is the one I want to put in you.”

Laios gasped. 

“That thing is massive! Are you sure?!”

He put the smaller one on the end table, and dropped the big one on the bed, letting it fwump and roll into Laois' side as he got busy putting on his harness. Laios was quickly coming to understand what he meant by ‘I have a cock depending on what you're asking for’. He meant to thrust it inside him like any guy with one growing out of his crotch could.

“Calm down, Laios. I’m not going to just shove it in there. I'm just putting it on, for the feel of it. We’ll stretch you out first.”

Laois could feel himself blush from head to toe. His unattended cock twitched painfully, but he didn't dare touch himself before Kabru got back on the bed and touched him first.

Thankfully the buckling and snapping came to an end. Kabru leaned over to grab the massive dildo, and secured it in place. The straps dug into the flesh around his hips and thighs, and wrapped around the base of the cock and the balls, almost fusing it to him. He uncorked the bottle and poured some of the liquid into his palm, then began stroking himself with it.

“The natural rubber can catch skin and hair if left dry, and it's really uncomfortable. This will help it feel more natural, and we’ll apply more once you're ready of course.”

“Can you get back on the bed now?” Laios said impatiently.

“Ah, now that you're thinking of me ‘like a boyfriend’ you know exactly what you want?” he said.

“Yes! I thought we were clear on that. Do we have to talk more? I’d really rather you touch me again,” he replied, increasingly aggravated every second Kabru was keeping him waiting like this wasn't his idea.

“I don't think I understand you,” he said, but to his credit he was on the bed now, “Any time I try to tease you and flirt with you, it blows up. I say the most humiliating thing I’ve ever said, completely lose my composure, and that's what works. Everytime.”

Laios huffed. He really thought they'd gotten over this by now. He grabbed Kabru's wrist and pulled him closer.

“Just say the thing that you mean first, and you won't be so embarrassed later. Fucking hell,” he said as Kabru toppled on top of him.

Kabru got back up, supporting himself by one elbow as he readjusted his cock, which was currently trying to rut itself into the crease between Laios' thigh and hip.

“Fine, here's my true feelings: you are such an ass.” He slapped his dick down on top of Laios' and dropped down, squeezing them between their bodies and winding Laios. He tried to moan, but with all the air pushed out of his lungs (on purpose!), all he could manage was a gasp.

“You still *gasp* like me though, right?”

He didn't answer, he just nuzzled into Laios' shoulder, kissing the skin where it joined the neck, and then slowly rocked his hips. He wasn't really expecting what it felt like–maybe it would've felt like a handjob did, but it didn't. It felt gentler than that, gentler than the constricted feeling of penetrating someone, yet with firm pressure on his sensitive shaft and head. The weight of Kabru on top of him, pressing their bodies together, felt incredible. He whimpered, his arms moving on their own to hold Kabru around the waist.

“Now you're the one who doesn't make sense. Be more confident that I like you even though I think you're a stupid asshole.”

Laios gasped again and turned to putty–Kabru picked up the pace and kissed his neck in earnest. Laois wanted to wrap his legs around him too, just take every part of him into himself, just absorb him, but Kabru's hands at his hips were locking him in place, and it would take an extreme force of will to try lifting them when it risked Kabru letting go. He went faster, and faster, kissing and tonguing his neck, until–

Kabru stopped abruptly, panting a little (Laois panted a lot). His dick throbbed with need.

“Don’t stop now…!” he whined.

Kabru sat up on his heels.

“I have a mission, Laios,” he said. He leaned over to grab the bottle of lube. He uncorked it, poured more in his palm, recorked it one-handed and put it back. With much squelching and spurting, he lubed up all five of his fingers and the palm too. He positioned himself so that his thighs created a wedge pillow for Laios' hips to rest on. Then, he pulled him up. Kabru's strength was always impressive–but maybe it was more his familiarity with the human body and how it moves, and how to use its natural points of leverage against someone–or for them, if he was about to fuck them in the ass–and that was even more impressive.

It was lucky that Laios tended to keep himself clean to facilitate his own masturbation, because Kabru didn't seem to think about that at all. He took a deep breath and got ready for what he expected next.

Probing finger number one entered, hooked upwards to seek out his prostate. He stroked in and out until he found it, and hit it hard. Precum shot from the tip of his dick. His sphincter clenched from the sudden excessive stimulation.

“Agh! Don't be so rough!”

“Sorry,” he said in his sweetest voice, “I was having fun.”

With a much gentler hand, he stroked it slowly. Once Laios relaxed again, he inserted a second finger. He rubbed at that hollow of his hips as he stroked, then began scissoring his fingers, a little wider each time. he was methodical, trying to work him out as fast as he could. Laios grabbed for his free hand again–he missed how comfortable it was beneath him, and it felt like all he could do was anticipate when Kabru would decide to come down to him again. He put in the third finger.

All of this felt so new, mostly because it was. He’d never had anyone else inside of him, even if he’d done it himself regularly. He’d had sex, but not with a close friend, not with someone who he enjoyed clinging to like slime. It was nerve-wracking, it was exciting, it was a fourth finger squeezing inside.

Kabru whistled.

“To be honest Laios, I was not actually confident I’d be able to get it in tonight, but it seems we will. Good job.”

“Th-thanks,” he said hoarsely. He’d been moaning nonstop for the last ten minutes, so his voice was about spent.

Kabru kept thrusting his fingers, brushing Laois' prostate on every third plunge in exactly, never really letting Laios lose himself in the rhythm of it, or letting him go ahead and cum. He got down to the last knuckle of his hand, and stretched all four fingers inside wide.

“You have definitely done this before,” he said.

“Um, just–ahhh–just to myself.”

Slowly he closed his fingers and withdrew them.

“I think you're ready. Now you get to get me ready.”

Once again, he returned to the end table, pulled the bottle of lube and the much smaller dildo. He handed them to Laios, who had sat up to see what he was doing.

Kabru laid back on his elbows, and lifted his legs to give Laios better access to his crotch.

“Put some lube on that and stretch me out a little so you can put it in,” he said.

Laios rubbed the dildo with the lube, making sure to coat his fingers as he did so.

“Bend down to get to me,” he instructed.

So Laios bent over, ducking the monstrous cock he was going to be taking very soon, and at this angle he could get a good look at Kabru's anatomy.

He had been wrong about the lack of external genitalia–his clitoris hung outside of the labia majora, engorged and standing at half-attention despite the weight of the skin and fat sitting above it.

“Yours is huge,” he said, awestruck. He touched it, holding it between two fingers, stroking it not unlike how he would the tip of his own and eliciting a moan from Kabru. He wondered what it would feel like against his tongue. “Could I suck it? Just for a minute?”

Kabru went very still for a second.

“Please do.”

Laios dove for it, using one arm to support himself, and the other to feel what he couldn't see in the dark, and letting the showy dildo flop onto his head. He took it into his mouth, licking the underside with the flat of his tongue and pressing it into his pallet. He had neither sucked dick nor eaten pussy before, so he couldn't truly compare, but he liked that Kabru's…–well, it should be fine to call it a cock even if there was a much larger artificial one above, dirtying his hair right now–Kabru’s cock was almost exactly a mouthful. It made it easy to loll it about on his tongue, testing the weight and density of it. And all his play seemed to be working wonderfully for Kabru–his thighs shook and his breathing was a bit shallow. He found a rhythm he liked and focused on using his fingers now. He spread apart the lips, and tried to finger him.

His head was unceremoniously pushed away. The heavy dildo flopped down onto the bed.

“You haven't fingered anyone before, have you?” Kabru asked, voice a little shaky.

“Ummm… No.”

Kabru just nodded.

“I’ll show you another time. You won't stay stretched forever,” he said, scratching at Laios' scalp for a second before continuing to push him away, “Go on, lay back as you were.”

He picked up the smaller dildo–which Laios had forgotten in his eagerness–and slowly worked it into himself. Once it was in, he left it there, no further fussing with it. He instead turned his attention back to Laios and his splayed legs. But instead of wedging himself under Laios again, he climbed over him, straddling one of his thighs, and said, “You still have to finish lubing it up, though.”

With a sweet smile, he passed the bottle to Laios again, who uncorked it while he stared down the massive, heavy battering ram strapped to his royal advisor. He poured the viscous substance directly onto the shaft of it and passed the bottle back to Kabru to deal with. He took it in both hands, pumping it slowly, being sure to fully coat it. Kabru hummed in contentment.

“Can I ask something?” Laios said, careful not to stop his work as he talked.

“Hm? Sure, go on,” he answered. He sounded almost blissful.

“If you can't feel it, why do you enjoy this?”

“Um. I suppose…I just like to watch.

“So you’d like it if I sucked this one too?”

Laios could see his Adam's apple bob in the dim light.

“Yes. Yes, I would. But stay focused, please,” he said. He stayed Laios' hands.

In a few swift motions, Laios' ass was back in Kabru's lap, the head of his dick pressed against his sphincter. That slim and strong body holding him in place, readying to fuck him–Laios figured he could understand why Kabru liked watching his partners. It felt good to know you made someone else enjoy themself; it made him feel sexy to see Kabru so focused on him.

Man, he really didn't get to feel sexy often. People didn't seem to really desire him like that. Granted, it's been uncomfortable a lot of the times he's noticed someone else was interested in him, though he wasn't sure why. Why should they be interested in a body like this? There was nothing cool or special about it. It just was. It didn't feel sexy.

So then why did Kabru liking him feel different?

The head pressed past the ring of his asshole, spreading him wide all at once. He inhaled sharply, his legs reflexively tightened around Kabru, forcing him in deeper. Kabru caught himself before he pushed too far too fast. He kept his pace slow and Laios tried to hold his legs still, but couldn't stop the way they twitched. Soon, the head brushed against his prostate. The sheer girth of it as it moved past made it feel like it’d been getting hammered. And still it kept coming for what felt like hours before Kabru finally bottomed out.

When he did, he leaned forward, pushing even deeper, forcing a deep moan from Laios. He couldn't reach Laios' face, but he could press his face to Laios' chest and pepper it with kisses. He ran the tip of his tongue around a nipple, and it made Laios shudder. So he locked his legs around Kabru, squeezing their bodies together.

“You can start thrusting; I’m ready,” Laios said, voice husky with desire. His cock ached for release.

Kabru complied, slowly and carefully at first, but gathering speed each time. The pressure on his prostate on the up-stroke was immense, and as the strokes came faster and faster, the ripples of pleasure coursing through his body were becoming crashing waves. Small gasps and moans too were becoming louder, and if he didn't control himself, the whole castle was going to hear him getting his back blown out. He bit down on his hand to muffle himself.

Soon, he came: thick ropes coated him and Kabru's bellies. He expected Kabru to slow down and stop, but he kept up his feverish pace. The sensation left him feeling dizzy, fuzzy in the head and weak in the limb. It certainly wasn't bad but he was going to pass out if he kept this up.

“Kabru,” he tried to say, but it was so hard to speak like this. He tapped him on the shoulder.

Kabru responded, his own voice hoarse and gasping now, “I’m close, I’m so close!”

No stopping him now–Laios clung for dear life onto Kabru's shoulders. He was flaccid now, but every stroke past his prostate forced more seminal fluid from the tip of his dick, milking him dry.

With a moan and a shudder, Kabru finally relented. He rested his head on Laios' tits, just a moment, giving a few soft kisses while he caught his breath. Laios rubbed his shoulders, keeping his touch light, not wanting to risk arousing him again (he could not handle it if Kabru tried to rut him again so soon).

“Kabru,” he mumbled, too tired to talk properly.

Kabru looked up. His face looked blissful and sleepy. “Hmm?”

“You gotta pull out, man, I am so tired.”

He pushed himself up back to the kneeling position and carefully pulled out. And so Laios immediately fell asleep.

A few moments of sleep later, he woke to Kabru climbing back in bed with him, holding a warm towel.

He was dressed in his night wear, and more candles were lit again so it wasn't quite so dark.

“Here,” he said, pressing the towel into Laois' hands, “Get cleaned up, and put your bed clothes on.”

Laios took the towel and began to wash up what he could. He couldn't have been asleep for very long, as the mess on his stomach hadn't completely dried down, but the feeling of the lube was starting to itch. It was kind of awkward with Kabru just sitting there, and it seemed Kabru felt the same, since he decided it was a good time to talk.

“So… you're feeling alright? No pain?”

Laios hadn't been prepared to talk yet. His mouth felt sticky.

“Mm. Mostly. Just feel kinda sore.”

“Well, let me know if you need a healing spell or anything.” He drummed his fingers on his legs, pointedly not looking at Laios. For his privacy, Laios guessed, though that did feel silly to be concerned about with a guy you were just inside of.

“Water would be nice,” Laios answered.

“Of course, let me grab your glass,” he said, springing back to his feet. He was just acting kind of weird in a way Laios couldn't place.

Kabru had brought in a jug and a couple glasses when he'd come back, along with the hot towel. If anyone saw him passing by, they’d probably think Laios had been sick–at least that's what Laios would think.

Laios finished cleaning himself off and bunched up the towel to put in the laundry later just as Kabru turned back to him with the water.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it and gladly chugging it.

Kabru sat on the bed in an awkward silence while Laios picked up discarded clothes and the towel and got himself into something clean, and he was still waiting like that when Laios sat down with him again.

“Are you, like, okay?” Laios asked, trying not to yawn. But fuck was he still tired.

Kabru exhaled hard. He was sweaty again–he was sweaty a lot though.

“What exactly did you mean by saying you wanted me to ‘touch you like a boyfriend’?” Kabru said politely, his focus entirely on Laios. Scanning him, almost.

Laios had not thought of the statement as ambiguous, but pressed to answer he wasn't now sure what he did mean by that. Why the hell did he say it that way?

“I mean that…You're my friend, and I care about you a lot, and I couldn't do any of this kingly mess if you weren't here…” Kabru's stare was intense, and it was making him nervous, “and… You know you're really handsome? And…” he was turning red and sweating, talking was getting physically more difficult, “and… tonight, that was nice? We should… again. Sometime.”

‘Be more confident that I like you…’

Why couldn't they talk about all this before milking his prostate and continuing to fuck him for like ten extra minutes?

An arm snaked around his waist, pulling them close. Laios just wanted to go to sleep like this, pressed against him. He rested his head on top of Kabru's–his hair smelled nice, probably some perfume he used inbetween washes.

“Would you like to be my boyfriend, then, Laios? Is that what you're trying to say?”

Laios dared lay a kiss in that bed of curls; he dared to wrap his own arms around Kabru.

“Yeah, it is.”

“We’ll have a lot to discuss if we want this to work,” he said.

“Probably. Being king doesn't help,” Laios answered, “But let's worry about that in the morning. I just wanna sleep with you now.”

Kabru squeezed him tightly, nuzzling his neck again, breath against his pulse, speaking softly.

“You should phrase that differently–I could go for another round.”

Locking Kabru in a hold, Laios fell back on the bed.

“You're insatiable! Let me rest!” 

They laughed together for a minute as Kabru broke the hold and got up to put out the candles. Laios yawned deeply, and got under the covers, and made space for Kabru. He pushed a pillow over for him. When Kabru climbed into bed, he laid face to face with Laios.

He looked so beautiful in the moonlight, soft and happy, and his eyes seemed to sparkle. Being with Kabru made him happy, even if they didn't always understand one another. He could trust him, and he felt like Kabru trusted him too. He wanted to kiss him again, fall asleep close that way. So he did. They lay curled around each other, lost in dreams.

All that mattered that night was that they wanted each other's company: Everything else could wait.

#the compendium #labru #kabru #laios touden

[iamadequate1]

Izzy and Weaponized Therapy

I accidentally opened Twitter again, and at the top of the algorithm was a canyonite comment about how they were eagerly waiting for the OFMD cancellation announcement any day now. I instantly closed and decided to feed Tumblr's Izzy tag instead.

So....

While I'm waiting for the renewal announcement (that is 100% happening), the comments of this post triggered something in my brain with the points that it's very important that most of Izzy's abuse is done when he's alone with Ed. If Ed fights back (say, as in a pirate universe, by shooting his leg) where others can see it, it looks unprovoked and that Ed is being unreasonable.

One thing I don't think I've seen touched on much is this line:

Izzy: I'm worried about you. We all are. The atmosphere on this ship is completely poisoned, but if we could all just maybe talk it through. Ed: As a crew?

It's a comment that snowballs through the season and demonstrates why Izzy's S2 "redemption" arc really falls flat for me. It sounds reasonable on the surface, but look at the context by looking at the progression of solo Ed & Izzy scenes.

1x10: Ed is starting to come out of his breakup depression, but Izzy does the big threat where Ed's "Wonderful. You know we share our thoughts on this ship." is met with "I should've let the English kill you. This, whatever it is that you've become is a fate worse than death. (...) No, this, this is Blackbeard! Not some namby-pamby in a silk gown pining for his boyfriend. (...) There he is. Blackbeard is my captain. I serve Blackbeard, not Edward. Edward better watch his fuckin' step." Full thing written because some people keep forgetting it.

1x10: The Toe Scene. The violence is an act already established as acceptable in this pirate universe, and Ed is throwing his protective persona back on and asserting his dominance over Izzy.

2x1: Shortly after the raid montage, Ed hides the Not Stede cake topper as Izzy enters the room. They dance around the crew not being happy, and Ed calls Izzy a lightweight.

2x1: This "talk it through" scene that includes the strange "I have love for you" statement.

They stand next to each other in two or three scenes in there (like watching the new Blackbeard flag rise), but that is the progression of their interactions, and they are all away from an audience.

I may be repeating some things from my Media Literacy post, but here it goes anyway: Ed and Izzy aren't real people. The writers are telling a story, and what they choose to put onscreen and the progression of it is important. On Ed's response, you have to look at what information he is privy to: he did not hear the shaky "Blackbeard is himself again" when Stede's library was being destroyed, and he did not witness Fang hugging Izzy and Frenchie holding his hand. This is it, and we don't get to invent extra scenes to make Izzy look better and make Ed unreasonable for not responding to "talk it through" with, yeah, man, let's sit down and have a chat.

In the interactions between Ed and Izzy, it's all about threats and self preservation. Izzy's threats to Ed mirrors Chauncey's threats to Stede: Ed and Stede had their worst fears about themselves thrown at them while under a death threat, and they both took dramatic (and ill advised) course corrections. In Ed's case, he came into the series with death ideation, and it flowed into his suicidal arc at the beginning of S2, an arc jump started by Izzy.

Ed has no reason to believe Izzy's "talk it through" is genuine. Izzy is the one to confirm that Ed is unlovable, that he has no purpose other than being Blackbeard, a ghost. They are approximately three months into this "poison," three months into a spiral that was triggered by Ed trying to "talk it through." "Talk it through" without any support of a previous good faith attempt at reversing this spiral in three months honestly comes off as mocking and genuinely as a weaponization of therapy speak (remember Jonah Hill?), using words that sound close to what someone who cares would say (say, someone like Stede) but are masking self serving reasons and a desire for control.

And Ed really had it confirmed that he was right to not trust Izzy there, didn't he? He moves the conversation to an audience, and Izzy shifts his argument from an attempt at a non-judgmental "We're worried about you" to a tone of "You're being completely unreasonable."

Izzy: The atmosphere on this ship is fucked. Everyone knows why. Ed: Well, I don't. Enlighten me. Izzy: Your feelings for Stede fuckin' Bonnet.

But in 1x10, we (and Izzy!) know that Ed had been moving on from his heartbreak from Stede and that Ed's issues now are stemming from how he felt before he met Stede.

Izzy retcons this event two episodes later, in 2x3:

Izzy: Alright, Bonnet, have it your way. He went mad. He tortured the crew. He took my fuckin' leg 'cause I dared to mention your fuckin' name. He was a wild dog, and we dealt with him like one. Stede: You sent him to doggie heaven. Izzy: No, I could never do that. We deserted him on a beach, left nature to do the rest. More than he would've done for us. You and me did this to him, and we cannot let this crew suffer any more for our mistakes.

(First, hearing "He went mad!" from a guy who called Ed "insane" all of S1 for just wanting to have a bit of amusement is rich...)

Again, the last part sounds like something a human who cares would say, but... as established, Ed's feelings for Stede weren't the main problem, and more importantly!: 1) Ed has free will and is not some passive damsel in an Izzy vs Stede war, 2) people are not responsible for an ex's bad reaction to a breakup, and 3) Izzy didn't know what had happened to Stede! Ed just knew that Stede didn't show up, so that's as much as Izzy knew. Izzy only knew that Stede had just reappeared on The Revenge at that moment with no explanation. Izzy had let the poison ferment for three months, and now that Stede is back, Izzy just eagerly foists half the blame on Stede. What? Why?

Now, the first part is why Izzy is firmly an Unreliable Narrator. We were shown explicitly why Ed shot Izzy, and it was not just for daring to say Stede's name. This is emphasized further when Izzy retcons the shooting again in 2x7 (and Stede just plays along?):

Izzy: Ya know what he did when I told him I loved him? Stede/Izzy: He shot you/me.

Izzy is a mess. I know that there are some posts floating around that criticize the poor writing of this, but I take it more as confirmation that Izzy is just letting reality be whatever he feels like at that moment.

This is why we, the audience, should not trust Izzy's dramatic "He tortured the crew!" to judge Ed, and we should not trust a statement that sounds like a clear headed, therapeutic response without first looking at the motivation and context around it. Izzy says things that sound nice, but that doesn't mean he means is being truthful.

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #izzy canon #i'm never leaving the izzy tag #ofmd meta

[gabessquishytum]

I’ll be honest I read that last pregnant mobster dream post as being about both dream and hob being pregnant.

So…yes dream is a pregnant mobster and hob is his favorite local pub owner who is…uh…also heavily pregnant.

They’re helping each other out! There are lots of hormones to deal with and both need foot massages and it makes Hob happy to have someone else going through his pregnancy with him.

Hob calls dream when he feels his baby kick! Dream buys two of everything—one diaper bag for himself, one for hob.

And dream knows it isn’t rational but he’s so glad hob is single now because even though it’s clearly hypocritical, as Dream is also pregnant, he can’t stand the idea that hob might have someone else in his and baby robin’s lives!

They are his and orpheus’s now and no one else’s.

We love a simultaneous pregnancy!!! Hell yeah, imagine the adorable contrasts between them. Hob is in big t-shirts and stretchy maternity leggings, meanwhile Dream is still trying to squeeze into his crisp, professional suits. He's a disaster waiting to happen, and Hob definitely has to lend him a hoodie on at least one occasion when his shirt can't handle the strain any longer.

With two sets of hormones swinging all over the place, the bickering between these two is legendary. Seeing them snipping at each other, you'd think they can't stand to be in the same room. Of course that's not the case (but if Dream eats his snacks again, Hob will not be holding back his temper). If they're not affectionately arguing, then they're absolutely so obviously in love. Everyone can see it, apart from them. All the soft looks and the tenderness and the longing. Hob is constantly checking up on Dream, touching the side of his belly with a smile that's full of adoration. If anything, Dream is even more obvious in his affections for Hob. He practically acts as though they're already in a relationship, and no one has ever treated Hob with such care and dedication before.

Unfortunately they're both stupid, and convinced that it's better for everything to remain strictly platonic.

After their two sons are born, life is very frantic. Dream has moved in to Hob’s flat (he spent one night alone with newly born Orpheus and simply couldn't do it again, and who can blame him!), the babies are practically twins with only 10 days between them. It's all milk and nappies and attempting to snatch a moment of sleep. Somewhere along the line, they start sharing Hob’s bed for the few hours between feeds. Cuddling up together for comfort just feels natural. Hob cries for the first time because his body is saggy and soft and he thinks he might never go back to how he was. Dream wipes his tears and calls him beautiful, even more beautiful now that he's carried and delivered a wonderful new life. One night Dream confesses that he's terrified for the future, for Orpheus, terrified that he's going die on the job and leave his baby. Hob holds him the whole time and promises firmly that Orpheus will always be safe with him.

One day Hob kisses Dream good morning (he's sleep deprived, still practically dreaming), and Dream kisses him back. Its as simple as that, apparently. Both of them are grinning as they go about the day - too exhausted for any kind of sex, but very much looking forward to soft kisses and cuddles when the opportunity arises.

Robyn and Orpheus are lucky. One of their dads owns an Inn, with an amazing kitchen full of nice food and nice people. Their other dad has a big box full of guns and rolls of cash and other interesting things that they're not allowed to touch. Hob’s definitely the one going to "parents come and talk about what their jobs are" day at school. But Dream is the one picking the boys up in a range rover flanked by 6 body guards. Their dads are also very VERY in love. Even if it took them both a hot minute to work it out!

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw mpreg #mafia au

[nakunakunomi]

This is my contribution to a secret santa discord server event. This fic is warm and fluffy and I LOVED writing it, I love these characters SO much. I hope you like it too!

Warnings/notes/tags are: polyamory, unspecified AU where Geto is not evil, unspecified whether this is a non-cursed world or a jujutsu AU where we just ignore the presence of curses. Loads and loads and loads of fluff.

2nd person. Reader is genderneutral, no pronouns are used.

Spending the winter holidays with Geto and Gojo is… 

…finding time in your busy schedules so the three of you can enjoy a winter market.

Strolling along the little stalls, taking in the views and the smells. It’s winter, and it has been dark for a while, but all the twinkling lights decorating the stalls reflecting into the white snow -both real and fake- make up for all that darkness. The smells are a little overwhelming at first, all kinds of stalls lined up flooding your senses with strong, sweet odors, heavy spices and the warmth of grilled meats… it’s a lot, combined with the sights and the jolly music playing from the speakers spread around the market, you can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. 

It doesn’t help that Satoru is immediately overly enthusiastic, ready to spend money on souvenirs and gifts for all the students and everyone else he knows, and pointing out all the stalls he’d like to try the food at. He’d run off without you two if it weren’t for Suguru’s quick reflexes, grabbing onto the hood of his jacket and janking him back. Suguru’s holding your hand firmly in his, grounding you from all the things overwhelming your senses. 

You stroll past the stalls, for some reason holding a whole bunch of bags from Satoru, who just can’t seem to stop getting stuff. At every stall there is something that reminds him of one of his studens, his friends or either of you, and he just has to get it. 

You leave the market filled with all kinds of foods and drinks, Suguru suggesting a little break amongst the food stalls, and Gojo getting a little bit of everything to sample, completely filling the little table you are standing at with various containers and plates, one smelling and looking more delicious than the other. You have to fight a little to ensure you get to sample some of the sweet desserts, and all three of you end up with smears on your faces from various sauces- feeding each other is romantic only when you don’t joke around and miss mouths on purpose (and of course you had to have revenge). 

… snuggling up on the couch, shivering and sniffling, full of regret but still shaking from laughter, after Suguru sneakily started a snowball fight on your way home. 

You had felt the cold snow collide with the back of your head and turned around immediately, throwing an accusatory glare at Satoru, who immediately put his hands up in defense. 

“I swear y/n- It wasn’t me I-…” 

His pleas immediately interrupted by yet another snowball, this one narrowly missing the tip of his nose, the both of you whipping your heads around to see Suguru standing with his hands hidden behind his back, giving you both his most innocent smile before grinning and throwing two more snowballs at the both of you simultaneously, a remarkable display of his aim and strength. Though this time you saw them coming and both you and Satoru managed to duck away in time, already grabbing handfuls of snow for your counter-offense. 

The two-against-one-match quickly turned into an all-out battle where each of you had to fend for themselves, because you slipped and nearly fell, throwing one of your snowballs to Satoru, who had promptly declared you his enemy as well. 

You spent almost two hours laughing, running around, hiding from snowballs and each other, you felt like kids again. As if there was not a single care in the world. You continued until your stomach hurt from laughing, your fingers ached from the cold, and you could barely feel your face anymore. 

The minute your little snowball fight was over, you realized just how much snow had melted and had managed to get through to your clothes, despite your gloves, scarf and jacket protecting you from most of the cold. 

You went back inside, changing into warm clothes, fluffy socks and cuddling up on the couch. You put on a silly movie for some background noise and entertainment, Suguru retrieved the blankets and Satoru prepped hot cocoa, overflowing your mugs with way too many mini marshmallows, offering to ‘help’ either one of you if you thought there were too many for you to eat- how kind of him. 

You sat in between the two men, knees pulled up and neatly tucked under the blanket. You barely registered the movie you put on, too busy getting warmed up and enjoying the serenity and pure happiness you felt in that moment. 

…making all kinds of plans, only to spend most of the holiday resting and chilling. 

There were things that had to be done: some household chores as well as work, and there were some things that you wanted to do for fun. Going to visit a new shopping center nearby, explore some city sights you hadn’t had the chance to. You wanted to go out on some dates, go for long walks enjoying the winter landscapes, relax, not worry and stress too much. There was work to be done, but work would always be there, and opportunities to relax and do fun things were scarce, especially in periods where the three of you were available. 

Suguru is a go with the flow kind of person, so he’s happy to tag along to whatever plans you make. Satoru however, is like a kid in a candy store when there is suddenly a lot of free time on your hands, and he is on the couch with his laptop in no time, ready to order tickets to anything you wanna visit, booking trips, and talking about so many plans you wonder out loud where he thinks he’s going to find the time to do all that. 

The fact that you finally can relax makes all the plans seem exciting though, and initially you are 100% behind Satoru, adding on suggestions, sending him links and scrolling on your phone, doing additional research for a lot of the places and activities he suggests. You do listen to Suguru who suggests only really booking things when you’re sure you can go do it, when timing, planning, transport, other plans and your energy levels are all aligned and allow you to do the activity.

He turns out to be the voice of reason, cause all three of you have such a hard time getting up in the morning, finally getting to sleep in (and it’s quite hard getting up when you’re in someone else's arms, comfortable and warm). 

Chores -unless really necessary- get postponed, plans get cancelled. Instead you stay in, watching silly movies, and finally catching up on the latest series you really wanted to watch. You go on walks together, exploring your own neighborhood and stopping at restaurants you haven’t had the chance to try out yet. You focus all your time and effort on quality time and enjoying the time all three of you have together. And you very quickly realize that truly, you do not need to have big and exciting plans to make the most of your winter break. 

… sharing a bed, because it is ‘cold’ outside. 

You leave your windows open at night, because it’s healthier, and you don’t like feeling all stuffy in the morning. There is a certain charm about entering a cold room and snuggling underneath the warm blankets, warming up as you fall asleep, and waking up in your own little warm cocoon. Especially if you have no further responsibilities that day, your blankets keeping you trapped in bed on a cold winter day, sleeping in. 

It is a little less exciting though when the temperatures drop abruptly, and the room is not nice and chilly, but actually is freezing when you go in. You are shivering when you get changed, and your blankets just don’t feel right. Your feet might as well be blocks of ice in your warm, fuzzy, socks. 

It only takes a few minutes of tossing and turning before you decide you need to get a better source of heat in your bed. Or a bed, doesn’t necessarily matter which one. 

So you wrap yourself in a blanket, carefully closing the door behind you, and shuffle your way through the dark hallway, only to find Satoru -your current target- standing in the hallway, mirroring yourself with his blanket wrapped around you as well. 

“It’s too cold in my room”, is the only thing you can blurt out as an explanation, feeling the overwhelming need to explain, even though that’s not necessary. He just nods in acknowledgement, and you need no further words between the two of you to know what the next step is. 

Suguru is already peacefully asleep in a room that’s colder than the rest of the house, but not freezing temperature. Leave it to him to actually properly figure out when to open and close the windows in his room to reach maximum oxygen and the best possible temperature to still be able to snuggle underneath the blankets without risking to freeze overnight. 

Suguru is a quiet sleeper, almost too silent, and you worry you might have woken him up by opening his door. But you didn’t; he merely stirs in his sleep, lips parting in a quiet sigh, hand moving up a little to lay on top of the raven hair that’s splayed upon his pillow. 

You are both as quiet as possible when you enter, Suguru only waking up when you both slip into the bed to either side of him, piling your blankets on top of him and snuggling close. There is a brief moment of surprise, followed by a very sleepy nod of acknowledgement. All three of you take a little time to adjust to three people in the bed, and it’s not entirely sure whose limbs are entangling with who, but it doesn’t matter as you can already feel your body relaxing the second you find a comfortable position. 

Your eyelids grow heavy while you hear Suguru and Satoru quietly converse in the background. You squeeze an arm that is around you, a quiet way of saying goodnight. 

…feeling warm, no matter the temperature. Because you are safe. You are loved. 

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto x gojo x reader #satosugu #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #polyam #winter fic #holiday fic #reader insert #second person #GN reader #secret santa #fluff #humor #cosy #jjk reader insert

[abysswalkersknight]

Finally finished one of my WIPs! It's been sitting in my drafts for a while so I just spiffed it up a bit.

Basically I starting writing this after seeing a scary mystery movie and a perfectly normal debate with a relative whether it's scarier to be poisoned or unknowingly ingest glass. We're still debating on that, otherwise enjoy!

..............

‘Hmm? Is something amiss Silver?’ inquired Malleus. They were at their usual table in the cafeteria, while he, Lilia and Sebek were already seated with their food, Silver took a bit longer than usual, though glancing at his rumpled hair and drowsier expression seemed to explain his absence well enough. While it was, of course, troubling that Silver had a sleep spell during lunch, Malleus was more concerned about the pitiful amount of food on his charge’s plate ‘are you perhaps feeling ill?’ he says, briefly touching his fingers to the boy’s forehead to check for fever. Silver must’ve still been waking up because all of a sudden he startled violently at the prince’s gentle touch ‘oh, uh, not at all my lord…’ Silver looks down. ‘ah, I don’t remember grabbing this, I must have fallen asleep while standing in line.’

In the background Sebek began to berate Silver for his carelessness though the boy was not at all paying any attention to him while Lilia quietly slid his son a perfectly warm coffee he got earlier. 

‘My, so even in his sleep Silver still drifts towards mushroom risotto.’ marveled the ageing fae, he urges Silver to drink the coffee and smiles as his boy slowly perks up, however Malleus still frowns  ‘are you not going to grab more Silver? You must be famished from all the training you’ve done earlier.’ he says, tapping Silver’s meagre plate for emphasis. His retainer glances back to the endless line and sheepishly averts his gaze ‘it’s alright my lord, I’m not that hungry anyways so I can just eat something after classes’ he quickly murmurs, taking up his fork, but his other guardian was not finished ‘nonsense Silver, one cannot focus on an empty stomach. And from what I recall it will be three hours until both your classes and club activities finish. If you’d like, I'm quite happy to share my food.’ Silver began to fidget slightly at his prince’s persistence ‘no no my lord I couldn’t possibly-’ lifting an eyebrow Malleus could already sense a polite refusal coming so, he politely ignores Silver’s fervent protests and pinches both edges of their plates and quickly switches them, Silver’s plate now had a significantly larger portion of mushroom risotto. Silver sputtered with his hand hovering midair, unsure whether to risk retrieving his original plate or not ‘go on, eat Silver. If you’re unable to eat it all then I’ll simply finish the rest myself.’ Malleus coaxes with a swift bite of risotto. 

Silver sighed fondly, throughout his life the only times his prince paid any attention to the clock were the child’s meal times where the dragon fae would make sure that his charge has had at least three proper meals a day and he’d continuously fuss over Silver like a mother bear if he’d found that the human’s meals were “lacking”. 

‘Oh he was so much worse when you were a wee little babe.’ Lilia would gush whenever Silver mentioned this habit to him ‘back then Malleus would never take his eyes off the clock at home until the time came to feed you, oh he was so worried that he’d forget the time and accidentally let you starve’ then Lilia put a finger to his chin in thought ‘though I suppose his worry may have stirred from that parenting book I lent him that one time. It’s probably become a bit of a habit now but still it warms this old man’s heart to see my boys caring for each other!’ 

While the notion itself was greatly appreciated, there were times where it embarrassed poor Silver when the other students and staff witnesses Lilia’s fatherly doting or whenever Malleus scoops some of his portion onto Silver’s whenever he thought the human wasn’t eating enough, even now the fae flicks a graceful eye to the untouched plate, almost daring the human to go hungry.

Shaking his head, Silver carefully hides his smile and begins to eat.

All was well while they ate, Silver watched contently as his fae guardians conversed with each other and Sebek snapped and tore through his fifth helping of risotto, Silver was worried that he might bite through his fork and wonders if it would help if he caught something for dinner later, Sebek was always mentioning about how hungry he was so perhaps some extra meat would temporarily quell his friend’s voracious appetite.  

Lilia was joyously teasing the prince about his lack of punctuality when Silver felt it, there was something strange about the risotto’s texture. As he chewed slowly Silver found an odd chunk of something hidden within the food, rolling it along his tongue he felt how it crumbled between his teeth though he soon came to believe that it was probably just a particularly large piece of mushroom so he shrugged it off.

Some of these mushrooms are rather big, he thought to himself questioningly as a different mushroom piece suddenly lodges itself somewhere in his throat, Lilia, Malleus and Sebek quickly turn to him as he roughly beats his fist against his chest whilst coughing dryly ‘my, you must have been quite hungry, my dear Silver’ chirped Lilia as he came over and thwacked his son firmly on the back. 

‘No-no…s’not…that’ Silver wheezes, his terror rose as he suddenly bent over and braced one elbow on the table while the other clutched desperately at his neck, everyone else began to panic when Silver’s coughs take on a retching tone, each gasp convulsing his whole body. Immediately Lilia’s hands coiled around the boy’s waist and practically heaved Silver off the floor with every thrust he made, at the third though Lilia had to stop when Silver gave a particularly harsh gag. Everything seemed to pause as a dark scarlet colour splattered all over the pearly white plates and shiny wooden table, gleaming like precious rubies on display.

Everyone broke out of their shocked daze when Silver whined painfully, his ungloved hand reaching into his mouth, trying to grasp at something but his fingers shook terribly and kept slipping. Both Lilia and Malleus cry out, the latter quickly held the boy up gently by the shoulders while the former pries his son’s trembling hand away and replaced it with his own ‘shh, shh, it’s alright Silver, it’s alright, Papa’s here…’ Lilia coos softly, trying to soothe his panicking child while trying to ignore the blood that slicks his nimble fingers, making it difficult to grip anything… Ah ha! There! As light as a feather Lilia took hold of something rock solid and gently, he tugged on it, taking great care to avoid hurting his boy even more. Slowly but surely something was coming out, blood thickly spewed out before revealing a distorted clear piece of glass pinched between Lilia’s fingers, small enough to remain hidden but big enough to potentially tear up a throat’s insides. Malleus stares at the glass with a look of outraged disbelief, who would dare-!

‘My liege!’ Both fae quickly turn at Sebek’s cry. The knight had searched through Silver’s risotto and has dug out three more pieces of glass of similar sizes to the one lilia had just pulled out, Sebek looks at Silver worriedly and promptly rushes to his side when the human whimpers and gasps out more blood ‘quickly! Help me take him to the infirmary!’ lilia barks, hoisting Silver up by one side and Sebek soon taking the other. In the rush Malleus was left behind with the staff on duty to control the excited crowd, he hadn’t wanted to of course, he had to be at Silver’s side, making sure that he was being properly treated, to think that there was someone within the school who had the absolute gall to do something so despicable to someone under his care, to target Silver- wait.

He thought back to the beginning of lunch, to his and Silver’s plates… They weren’t going after his retainer, they were targeting Malleus. His fists clenched, so hard that he felt some seams in his gloves tear. When I get my hands on whoever’s done this-

He had only wanted to make sure that his charge was well fed, but in his folly all he did was unknowingly feed Silver a plate filled with tampered food, and now this has happened. Glass in their food would have only been a minor inconvenience to fae like Lilia and Malleus, as was possibly the perpetrators prior intentions, but clearly the same cannot be said for humans, as was seen with Silver. For that alone I will slowly tear them apart, he thought dangerously, tis only right, they have hurt what is mine and as crown prince of Briar Valley it is my duty to put them in their place. But first, he must attend to Silver who should be in the infirmary by now… Malleus can only hope that his charge won’t suffer any long lasting ailments due to this. With that thought in mind, the dragon prince disappears in a flurry of green lights.

By the time he arrived Silver was fast asleep in one of the few infirmary cots, his parted mouth emitting weak wheezy breaths. Lilia sat at the head, tenderly stroking his boy’s soft locks ‘the nurse said he should be fine’ the old fae says without glancing up, moving closer something in Malleus’s chest tightens when he finds little splotches of dried red in the corner of Silver’s pale mouth ‘how bad was it?’ he murmurs, bending down to caress Silver’s cheek, the boy showed no signs of stirring. Lilia hummed and gestured to a tray on the other side of the cot, on top was a smaller, cruel looking piece of glass ‘apparently that bit must have broken off the one I pulled out’ he mumbled looking at his now gloveless hand, his eyes flick back to Malleus ‘let me guess. You have come to the same conclusion as I?’ it was not a question ‘good, then it is alright to ask that you remain here with Sebek at Silver’s side while I go handle this.’

Malleus blanched, what? No! He won't have Lilia do this alone! It was unbecoming of the prince to back down from such a blatant challenge. But just as he was about to protest, his guardian pinned him down with the general’s sharp gaze ‘no Malleus, while I’m well aware of your power, remember that this was an attack staged against you, little Silver simply had the misfortune to be the recipient of it, and we don’t want any unfortunate incidents happening as well, do we?’ he grins maliciously, it was then Malleus recalled just who he was speaking with, he may have changed immensely over the centuries but this was still Lilia Vanrouge, general of the right and one of the most feared fae out there. And someone had just signed their death sentence the moment that glass was placed, not only had they targeted his first child and prince of Briar Valley, they had even wounded his second child with such a callous method and now here he was resting in an infirmary with a torn up throat, how could Lilia ever let something like this slide without punishment.

Even better they have made an attempt on Malleus’s well being, Lilia thought his talons twitching with unbridled bloodlust, that means I can go all out as his guard.

I hope the staff catch them quickly.

His grin widens.

Otherwise I’m going to have some fun.

#knight's writing #silver twst #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst #the second one off a little list of WIPs I made #I can't recall the name of the movie I watched but the scene where a guest finds glass in the marmalade scared me #not in a scary way but surprisingly it was scarier then scenes where people were poisoned

[dragonflavoredcake]

In Defense of Beauty and the Beast

It makes me mad to still see people talking about how Beauty and the Beast is about Stockholm Syndrome.

No. Just no. The story doesn't line up with Stockholm Syndrome. Belle does not fall for Adam (aka the Beast) while he's still being horrible to her. Early example:

She does not give him an INCH. He's bellowing and demanding she come to dinner or starve, and she stands her ground. Most people would give in. Belle is not most people. She will not be forced to do anything she doesn't want to, and if you try, you're gonna end up facedown in the mud.

She only starts being nice to Adam after he risks and nearly sacrifices his life to save hers. They had the option to completely split and forget about each other after the West Wing scene (and may I say Belle is hella manipulative in tricking Cogsworth and Lumiere to head off without her, she would be a terrifying villain). Adam could've let Belle vanish into the night, but he didn't. Belle could've left Adam to die in the snow and gone back to her father, but she didn't.

This is a major turning point in their relationship, but even then, she isn't nice when he's mean. When he yells at her while she's patching him up, she yells right back, and he can't even argue that the whole issue started because of his refusal to control his temper.

Since it's Disney, they fall in love over the course of a song.

Early movie Adam would never try to feed the birds. It's not a completely 180, he still gets frustrated when the birds won't fly into his hands, but Belle helps him out and helps him get that one bird to eat from his hands before he's covered in them. Belle watches from behind a tree for a part of this. Adam doesn't realize she's watching him, but he still entertains the birds. He doesn't become uninterested or shoo them away when he thinks she's not watching.

Belle throws a snowball and starts a snowball fight. Again, early movie Adam would never. Midmovie Adam joins in enthusiastically.

(Perhaps a little too enthusiastically, if that giant snowball is anything to go by.)

And can we talk about this little scene?

They're having porridge, Belle is eating it with a spoon like a proper French lady, and Adam is basically eating like a dog. Belle averts her eyes because awkward, and Adam sees her reaction and picks up his own spoon. A spoon that's much too small for his giant paws. A spoon he's visibly uncomfortable picking up. He can't effectively eat with it, and he looks absolutely ridiculous, but he tries.

And Belle sees him trying, so she finds a middle ground: drinking the porridge. No need for silverware, but still more suitable for polite society than eating like a dog.

Again, Adam is making a genuine effort for unselfish reasons, and that is when Belle really warms up to him. They spend the whole of Something There becoming friends and then falling in love. 

Tale as Old as Time is the big romantic number, and you know what? Belle leads most of it. The dance was her idea; Adam agreed and arranged for it to happen. She comes down the staircase first, and Adam has to meet her where she stands.

They eat dinner beforehand (where Adam successfully uses a spoon!), and Belle's the one who pulls Adam to the dance floor. Yes, she's in following position, but she's guiding him, placing his hands as they get into position. When Adam gets over his nerves and is ready to take the lead, she lets him.

There's the thing about ballroom dance: you can't dance with an unwilling partner. You also can't dance with a control freak. If I'm in lead position, I have to trust that my partner will understand what I want them to do and execute it well. If I'm in following position, I have to trust that my partner will correctly signal what moves they want and won't try to make me do anything that makes me uncomfortable. There's no micromanaging in dance—if you try to control someone else's movement, you're going to completely ruin both their part of the dance and yours.

All this makes the big emotional moment hurt: when Adam lets Belle go. This is also where the Stockholm Syndrome theory entirely shatters: everything leading up to this point has involved Adam completely relinquishing what little control he had over Belle and losing the drive to demand that control. He respects her and doesn't want to control her. When she passes through the castle gates, she leaves Adam's influence entirely.

Adam really doesn't leave the castle. He never really expects Belle to come back. He lets her go because Maurice is important to Belle, and he can't find it in him anymore to force her to stay. It's hardly even a question of whether to let her go, even though it's such a searing loss that he won't even defend himself or give order to defend the castle from Gaston's army.

He won't even defend himself against Gaston until he sees Belle down in the courtyard. As he's lying there, dying, he expresses shock that Belle came back. And it's THEN that we get the magic "I love you."

That's also why the end isn't completely cheap. No, I don't really like Adam's human design, I think it's a little too symmetrical and "perfect" (especially in the "big reveal" turnaround shot), but the whole "stare into his eyes" shot is meant to establish that Belle can tell that he's the same person she saw grow from a selfish brat into a respectful and selfless man. If he'd just been some handsome rando or a reset to pre-curse Adam, she wouldn't have kissed him.

When the transformation first happens, she's scared. She backs away because she doesn't recognize him. She reaches out to him, but draws her hand back because she doesn't know if that's her Adam. But then . . .

"It is you!"

That's the line that seals it. Belle wants the Adam she fell in love with, the Adam who struggled with spoons, the Adam who gave her a library, the Adam who worked to improve himself and let her take the lead.

She completely left his sphere of influence and came back on her own. If Belle didn't love Adam, she could've let Gaston's army kill him. If Adam didn't love Belle, he wouldn't have agreed so quickly to let her go care for Maurice when it clearly hurt him so much.

Belle doesn't love Adam because she was manipulated or because he turned handsome. She loves him because he grew into a better person who was her perfect partner and complement.

I will now get off my soapbox

#beauty and the beast #beauty and the beast 1991 #belle #adam #prince adam #gaston #maurice #disney #walt disney animation #my thoughts #short essays #my essays