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annievrse · 1 month ago

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LABYRINTH

FEATURING: TRAFALGAR LAW x FEM!READER

SUMMARY: When your captain, Luffy, tells you to run from Bartholomew Kuma on the Sabaody Archipelago instead of fighting, you end up on a submarine...

CONTENT: Fic structure: Sabaody Archipelago → Zou spoilers, canon timeline but majority canon-divergent events, acts are organised by scenes, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. Content Warnings: Panic attacks, anxiety, descriptions of injuries, blood, passing out, trauma (Luffy & Law), drinking (one instance), torture and violence, guns + getting shot, Doflamingo (+ his past).

Crossposted on AO3: Here

ACT I... IT ONLY HURTS THIS MUCH RIGHT NOW [15k] ACT II... IT ONLY FEELS THIS RAW RIGHT NOW [18k] ACT III... BREAK THROUGH, BREAK DOWN [20k] ACT IV... HOW'D YOU TURN IT RIGHT AROUND? [20k]

See below the cut for the Reader's Devil Fruit! (This can be considered a spoiler for the fic if you want to be surprised).

The Sew-Sew Fruit: A round fruit wrapped in white thread.

The Sew-Sew Fruit is a uniquely versatile Paramecia-type Devil Fruit that grants its user the ability to control and manipulate needles and thread. From creating intricate garments to dealing devastating blows, the user’s mastery of their powers can drastically affect the battlefield—or even the very fabric of a person’s being.

Powers & Abilities 1. Needles: The user can materialize and control a variety of needles of different sizes, from tiny, sharp pins to enormous, thick needles that can pierce through armour. These needles can be used offensively, defensively, or subtly, such as sewing together injuries or fabricating traps. The user has full control over these needles, manipulating them at will to attack or defend in a variety of creative and dangerous ways.

Offensive Uses: The needles can be fired at high speed, becoming deadly projectiles capable of piercing even the toughest materials. By controlling the thread that attaches them, the user can manipulate the needles mid-flight, ensuring they find their mark.

Defensive Uses: The user can also create shields or swords, using needles to form a web-like structure of thread that blocks incoming attacks. Needles can also disarm opponents by targeting their weapons or controlling their limbs, making it harder for enemies to retaliate.

Tactical Uses: Needles can be used to stabilise ropes for abseiling, stitch up broken structures, fix broken buildings or stabilise bridges in an emergency.

2. Sew: This technique involves manipulating large quantities of thread to bind, subdue, or harm targets. The user can weave and manipulate threads in almost any environment—whether in the air, water, or solid ground—and use them to entangle or control opponents. With enough control, the user can manipulate threads to create clothing or equipment out of nothing, even adjusting their own garments to suit various needs. This ability is as creative as it is practical and can be used for a wide range of applications.

Offensive Uses: The user can conjure thick, sharp threads to slice through enemies, creating ribbons of deadly silk that can cut through flesh and bone. Alternatively, they can form spools of thread that tighten around enemies, squeezing them into submission or piercing their skin.

Defensive Uses: Threads can be used to bind attackers or shield allies. Users can also create large thread nets to slow opponents or trap them. In desperate times, the user could stitch up a torn sail or make an emergency parachute from their clothes.

Healing Uses: The thread can also stitch wounds or close injuries.

3. Seam (The Mindscape): The user has the power to pull the soul of a living being out of their body and sew it into a mental "seam"—a space where the soul can wander freely, but their physical body is left in a dreamlike, almost immobile state. While in this mindscape, the target's consciousness is free to roam, but their body remains comatose, trapped in a state where they are unaware of the passage of time.

Effect on Target: When a soul is sewn into the seam, the target's body becomes a puppet, barely alive and completely unaware of what’s happening around them. They can wander freely inside the mindscape, but they cannot control their physical body, which may be left defenceless in the outside world. Time seems to pass differently inside the seam, and a target can lose days, months, or even years while only moments pass outside.

Mindscape Reality: The mindscape can reflect the target's deepest fears, desires, or memories, often manipulating their perception of reality. This can create a disorienting environment where the target cannot tell what’s real and what is an illusion, effectively trapping them in a twisted version of their own mind.

Adverse Effects on the User: While powerful, the use of the Seam technique is taxing on the user. If the user does not manage their energy properly, there can be severe consequences. Prolonged usage can lead to excessive blood loss, typically through the hands—where the thread seems to extract life force—and chronic lightheadedness, causing the user to faint or collapse after extended use.

Permanent Effects: If the user keeps a soul inside the seam for too long without letting them return to their body, there is a risk of permanent damage to the victim’s mind, making them a mindless shell of their former self. Similarly, if the user remains in the seam for too long, they risk losing their own soul to the space, becoming trapped in a dreamlike state themselves.

4. Seam Ripper: A powerful counter-technique designed to protect the user’s consciousness from being influenced, infiltrated, or manipulated by external forces. Using the same fundamental principle as the Seam ability, which allows the user to trap souls and manipulate the mindscape, Seam Ripper acts as a mental defence mechanism, "cutting" away any attempts to tamper with or enter the user's mind.

Psychic Battles: In situations where the user is up against an enemy that manipulates minds, such as someone with telepathy or mind control, Seam Ripper is invaluable. It can break the opponent’s hold over the user’s body and mind, allowing the user to regain control and counterattack.

Countering Other Devil Fruits: Against Devil Fruits like the Magu Magu no Mi (Magma-Magma Fruit) or Suna Suna no Mi (Sand-Sand Fruit), Seam Ripper could be used as a defensive tool to sever any threads of control the enemy tries to establish over the user's mental state, preventing them from becoming disoriented or easily manipulated.

Protection for Allies: If the user is in a team fight, Seam Ripper can also be used to protect allies from mind control or illusions. By keeping their mind free of external influences, the user can focus on helping others without losing control over their own actions.

5. Interfacing: A complex defensive technique where the user manipulates large quantities of thread to weave a nearly invisible network of fine, bulletproof walls. These threads create a labyrinthine structure—an intricate maze—around the user or their allies, effectively confining enemies within a maze of unyielding walls. Each wall, while deceptively thin, can withstand bullets, blades, and even larger attacks, making them ideal for defence, trapping enemies, or controlling the flow of battle.

The technique's true strength lies in its versatility and ability to adapt to the environment. It can be deployed instantly, forming walls of thread that act as both a physical and mental barrier, disorienting opponents as they navigate the maze.

Trapping Enemies: Interfacing is an ideal technique for trapping large groups of enemies or powerful foes who rely on brute force or ranged attacks. It confines their movements and limits their ability to retaliate, while also providing the user with the ability to pick off enemies one at a time.

Control of the Battlefield: The labyrinth not only serves as a trap but as a tool for controlling the flow of battle. The user can close off certain paths, funnelling enemies into chokepoints or force them into confined spaces where they are at a disadvantage. It can also be used to protect allies, making it difficult for enemies to get to them.

Psychological Warfare: The maze is a tool for disorientation. Enemies trapped within it are often at a disadvantage as they struggle to navigate through the confusing structure. Over time, the maze can break the spirit of enemies, making them more susceptible to mistakes or surrender.

6: Binding: An advanced and highly dangerous technique that allows the user to pull memories from a person's mind and transform them into solid, real-world objects or events. When someone’s memory is extracted using the Seam or similar techniques, Binding solidifies the memory by "weaving" it into reality, making it materialize as though it had always existed.

This ability manipulates the very nature of a person's memories, turning the intangible (thoughts, recollections, or imagined scenarios) into something that can be interacted with physically. The user must be cautious, as these manifestations are not limited to harmless recreations—they can be objects, environments, or even people who appear precisely as they were in the person’s mind. Once bound, these memories can have an unpredictable impact on both the person who owns the memory and the world around them.

Trapping Enemies with Memories: The user can trap an enemy in a situation by binding a specific memory to reality. For instance, a traumatic memory can manifest as a real-world trap, forcing the enemy to relive their worst fear in physical form, distracting them long enough for an attack or escape.

Manipulating the Battlefield: Binding can be used to manipulate the environment around the user. A memory of a past battlefield, a familiar place, or even a natural disaster can be made real, distorting the surroundings to give the user an advantage or to confuse the enemy.

7: Stitch: This is the most dangerous and enigmatic ability of the Sew-Sew Fruit. It is an advanced and final step in manipulating memories. When used in tandem with Binding, Stitch takes the already manifested memory and secures it permanently in the physical world, making it an unalterable fixture of reality. Unlike Binding, which creates temporary, often unstable manifestations, Stitch locks the memory into existence, preventing it from fading, shifting, or dissipating.

Once a memory is "stitched" into reality, it becomes as permanent as any natural part of the world—whether it’s an object, an event, a place, or even a person. This technique allows the user to cement entire histories or scenarios into the present, permanently altering the world around them.

Creating Permanent Allies or Minions: If the user wishes, they can create a permanent army of memory-constructed figures or allies. Once these individuals are stitched into existence, they are real, living beings, albeit based on the memory from which they were drawn. This can be a powerful tool in battles that require long-term assistance.

Alterations to the Battlefield: Stitch can also be used to permanently alter the environment in the user's favour. A battlefield memory could be "stitched" into existence, creating an environment that traps or confuses enemies or provides a constant source of cover for the user’s team.

Weapon Creation: By extracting memories of powerful weapons or tools, the user can create permanent, reliable sources of combat strength. Once stitched into reality, these weapons would become unbreakable and always available.

Historical Manipulation: In larger-scale battles or political maneuvering, Stitch can alter the course of history by creating a permanent record of a particular event. For instance, the memory of a legendary battle or a famous leader could be made tangible, affecting the outcome of future events.

In essence, Stitch is the final, irreversible step in altering reality with the Sew-Sew Fruit. It allows the user to permanently cement a memory into the real world, creating a lasting change that cannot be undone. This powerful technique has the potential to reshape the world, but it comes with the risk of unintended consequences, personal trauma, and a heavy toll on the user’s energy and mind. It is a tool of immense power and responsibility, capable of creating eternal legacies or causing irreparable damage.

#based on labyrinth by taylor :))#trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #labyrinth series

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sha-biest · 20 days ago

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SHA's Golden Future DTIYS [Art & Writing]

Close ups of Mikey

About 10 days ago I had the idea to host a DTIYS and even though I told myself it wouldn't happen anytime soon.. the idea struck and it wouldn't let me go. SO, here it is! One thing before everything else:

1st place: One handmade custom plushie made by me

More information about this DTIYS down below

I am aware that this is a rather challenging DTIYS but it was done so intentionally by me. (Trust me, I tortured myself too 🙃) HOWEVER. you are allowed to chose to draw only one segment of the whole piece and not every single one! You will however get more points for including all 3 parts of it. I will judge the pieces based on: • How many segments of the whole piece were drawn • Creativity (in what way was it changed from the original to emphasize your own style for example) • Colors (did you chose to use colors or is it black and white?) • Hands. I do accept written entries for this as well! I love reading and I don't want to exclude writers for this one should they decide they want to tackle this! You are allowed to use my art up top of the DTIYS to promote your writing!

If you want to participate be sure to @sha-biest and use the tag #GoldenFutureDTIYS Additionaly, let me know what YOU would like to get as a plushie! (don't worry, you don't have to stick to that decision should it change over the course of the DTIYS)

Deadline: 10th March 2025

More Info: • #GoldenFutureAU art tag • Written Story by Co-Creator @rosesofenvy (More about Mikey's mindscape and him unlocking his full mystic powers can be read in "Keep You Safe" especially within Chapter 4 and Chapter 8) • The Sun God's appearance here and here References:

Mikey's mindscape in Golden Future:

In the beginning he thought it was black water but it's actually black sand

He can dive into the sand and uncover "treasures" (parts of his mystic energy)

Diving down means no vision, sound or air gets through to him

He can uncover the mystic powers by pulling them up with his chains

Uncovering a "treasure" will turn that part of the desert golden

Disclaimer: • The plushie that can be won cannot be used to be reproduced and/or sold • The size of the plushie depends on the character chosen by the winner and by the package size I can send • I am by no means a professional plush maker so I do have the right to decline a character should I not be able to turn it into a plushie • Changes might need to be made to the chosen character for the plushie for more complicated details (I will provide sketches of possible versions) • Minors are permitted to participate, but only with the express permission of a guardian and limited correspondence if they win • You can chose to get a full illustration piece instead of a plushie should you win! (if you are too uncomfortable sharing your adress for example)

Plushie examples:

Questions can be send in via my ask box! I will try to compile them in here or give them a dtiyas specific tag! I'm curious what you guys come up with and most of all.. have fun! :D

PS: I will consider doing two first places (one for writing and one for art) depending on how many entries there are

#biestart #goldenfutureau #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #rottmnt mikey #goldenfuture #GoldenFutureDTIYS

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astrea16 · 3 months ago

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Piers and Pirates

So I've never watched One Piece before the live action, and I was curious about the anime but wasn’t sure I’d be into it so I started with Skypiea right away. The interesting thing I’ve noted about the structure of the story is that it reads a lot like a DnD campaign: one big journey divided into story arcs with their own atmospheres and challenges, and of course the iconic “you want to go now?” that turns into a ten-episode prep before the sky islands. I’ve briefly mentioned them before, but some of the encounters are so creative. I’m thinking for example of the Swamp Priest with the body control of a toddler who can’t cross his arms on his chest and forgets to say things out loud; or the old lady at sky customs who will let you pass because she can’t do anything to stop you but then sends an entire squadron after you. It’s a shame the anime is so poorly paced because the worldbuilding is genuinely phenomenal—but then again, it’s like watching a really long DnD campaign.

You can tell that Oda put a lot of research into his manga because every piece of information feels believable, whether it be Robin’s knowledge on ancient civilizations—the fact that Skypiea itself was inspired by the Mysterious Cities of Gold makes so much sense—or Nami’s navigation skills. It feels like you could sail in any direction and find an island with incredibly rich lore and characters. I’m just in awe of how unique each of them feels. Character creation is HARD, and yet no two are the same in Oda’s world. I could only achieve this level of depth with consistent roleplay, and he did it with all of his characters. They speak for decades of reading stories and consuming art blooming into one personal mindscape.

But the most remarkable one is Luffy. As opposed to the typical hero on a journey, Luffy doesn’t stand out because of a major personal growth or anything of the kind. toraheart put it perfectly in their analysis by calling him a catalyst: the story isn’t about Luffy, it’s about how he changes the world around him. How he inspires people to break free from their chains, how he stands for an ideology. More than an actor, Luffy is a symbol. And you can see that as clear as day in One Piece Fan Letter (2024) where he receives less than a minute of screen time, yet his presence resonates throughout the entire episode. The Marine who was inspired to save his brother in a moment of crisis, finding his strength in the boy whose own brother had died before his very eyes. The little girl looking up to Nami as a beacon of hope and rebellion, the same woman who found the courage to ask for help so that she could free herself from a decade of child exploitation at last. The teenager who works at the bookstore, listening to Brook’s music to get through her day. All of these were informed in some ways by the unstoppable force that is Monkey D. Luffy. He quite literally jumped out of a fire in that episode, and we know that epic imagery is one of the most evocative means of inspiration. If the boy wasn’t an anarchist, he’d be the face of revolutionary propaganda.

Speaking of anarchy, some people have called him a terrorist and I think I can stand with that. Luffy is kind, yes, but he is also selfish and stubborn. Despite his desire to help people achieve their dreams, he is entirely unconcerned with casualties when he’s fighting. He has only one goal in mind and will do anything to see it to the end. What compels me isn’t his beastly strength or his extraordinary abilities, it’s the fact that he wants everyone to do the same. To find their one piece, and to add it to the puzzle. It may not fit the first time around, but there will be people riding the same wave as you. And if someone stands in your way, well then screw that! Why do you think Luffy was so happy to have his face on a wanted poster? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not because it confirms his power. It’s because he knows that the world finally sees him. Luffy doesn’t really care about the treasure, he wants to become King of the Pirates so that he can have a place in a world that doesn’t want him.

To finish up on Fan Letter because it’s a masterpiece and I need everyone to acknowledge it, you really get this sense of carelessness from the Strawhats making their escape out of Sabaody. Yeah, everybody knows what they’re up to and they’re not exactly subtle about it (see: Luffy), but since when do they give a damn? The whole world is watching and they’re not even looking back, they’re just feeling the wind in their backs and staring straight ahead. Doesn’t that make you want to go on a grand adventure yourself?

By the way, if you liked the feel of the animation I highly recommend checking out the Gobelins channel on YouTube. It features several shorts by aspiring filmmakers in art school and they’re all a freaking delight to watch.

#i like watching things out of order don't come for me #im a film major so i can do whatever i want #one piece #one piece fan letter

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oatmealdaydreams · 5 months ago

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Random SaSi Headcanons

Virgil's animal/animal trait is actually an armadillo (though he does share similarities to cats and spiders because of his introverted tendencies)

Orange can be a little shit (affectionately)

Janus uses his cane for chronic pain reasons, especially on higher pain days

Orange will call the Others by their colours instead of their names ( Janus would be Yellow, etc.) and following this pattern, calls c!Thomas "Rainbow"

Remus has a pet kraken on his side of the Imagination

Different places in the Mind (the Mindscape, the Imagination, everyone's room, the Mind itself, etc.) are all somewhat sentient

Mr. Fuzzy can purr, which helps Virgil calm down sometimes (Virgil will never admit this)

Logan knows how to draw out star-maps and read them; sometimes, he'll help the Creatives when they're making some sort of skyscape and he'll map it out

Patton and Remus enjoy puns together

Roman gets literal burnout, and Remus usually helps with it bc he understands as another Creative

When things get really overwhelming, Virgil will go to Janus for help; they never say anything to each other and won't talk about it afterwards

Virgil can be a bit of a mother hen when taking care of someone

A common way to show & receive affection/care between everyone is different forms of Gift-Giving

c!Thomas will try to put time aside to spend with his Sides, bonding, as an act of self-love

When Logan is ranting about something he's passionate about, his irises turn indigo and literally star-shaped

Logan normally has blue-grey eyes (outside of c!Thomas' perception of him)

The way c!Thomas perceives the Sides is how they look/act while around him, but may look/act a little different when he's not actively "seeing" them

The way the Sides act in videos is them intensifying themselves for the characters they play & are a bit calmer when not filming

Patton is a pretty good baker, but he struggles with cooking different things

The Sides take turns making dinner & Patton usually makes breakfast for everyone; everyone makes themselves lunch unless there's a special occasion

The twins host fun events in the Imagination to help keep everyone a little more entertained

Roman has a secret special place he goes to in the Imagination when he's really stressed; Remus is the only other one that knows about it

Nico Flores knows some things about Floriography and will rant to c!Thomas about it; c!Thomas loves listening to him

#sanders sides #headcanons #thomas sanders #character thomas #nico flores #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides headcanons

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 1 month ago

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Whispers

as a fellow adhd creative struggling to do my work this semester, id love if you could write roman angst with him struggling with doing work and executive disfunction and the feeling of failure that comes from that. – anon

would you be able to do one of roman being autistic? he stims, rocking, flapping his hands, he vocalises when stressed or happy, he has echolalia (repeating words or phrases), etc. but he has to mask around the others, especially for long hours of the day and that's harmful in itself. only around remus and thomas (if he goes to the mindscape) he feels safe to unmask? I dunno, something angsty around that like an autistic meltdown with after the wedding fiasco and with both remus and thomas being protective over roman, soft other sides and unsympathetic patton.. I'd love to read more of thomas being protective over roman and I'm in love with remus being the protective older twin. – anon

maybe a fic where roman makes a space in the imagination for virgil (or any side that wants to) to take a second to breathe but unbeknownst to virgil he uses that space a lot – anon

Could you write Roman angst where he is cursed by the Dragon Witch or some other imagination resident and tries to hide the curse from the other sides? – monkeythefander

I think it would be really silly but also angsty if there was an anxroceit miscommunication where Roman overhears Virgil and Janus talking and he thinks that they’re bonding over their dislike of him. So of course in traditional Roman angst fashion he’s like “welp, I guess I am a horrible person after all, but at least they’re bonding” BUT what Virgil and Janus were actually bonding over is the way Roman’s being mistreated by the other sides and they’re trying to figure out how to help him. – anon

A Roman who has been taught that he will only get good things if he is useful. Can you feel my brain rot 😅 – anon

hiiiiii could I request for some creativitwins with protective remus and roman angst please?? – anon

hi! I like rewatching the sander sides incorrect quotes and I noticed even in the normal sander sides videos, thomas tries to protect roman (esp when first meeting janus) so I was wondering if you could make a fic where thomas and remus protect roman from a bunch of stuff? like thomas backing up roman in discussions, thomas and remus patching up roman after a secret meeting was held with them two (I'd love to see more of remus going absolutely apeshit for his brother and thomas joining in) and ending with some soft fluff with all of them? but it's up to you!! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-hatred, ableism, bruised ego (in roman's case, quite literal)

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 5397

"You're awfully careless with your tongue, boy," the Dragon Witch snarls, her fangs flecked with blood, "I wonder if you'd be so dismissive if you knew what the others thought of you." He doesn't have time to do so much as open his mouth before a blast of red light hits him square in the chest. After that, it's all he can do not to clutch his head and scream.

"I think he's getting worse."

"Oh, I know he is. Didn't you see him with Logan earlier today? Poor thing looked like he was about to burst into tears if Logan expressed so much as the vaguest amount of disappointment in him."

"He's Roman. He'll burst into tears if someone looks at him wrong in silence for a few seconds too long."

Roman whimpers. The jagged rocks dig into his back as he curls up tighter, hands cold and useless where they lie bundled against his aching chest.

***

"You're awfully careless with your tongue, boy," the Dragon Witch snarls, her fangs flecked with blood, "I wonder if you'd be so dismissive if you knew what the others thought of you."

He doesn't have time to do so much as open his mouth before a blast of red light hits him square in the chest.

After that, it's all he can do not to clutch his head and scream.

***

"Roman."

Roman's mouth snaps shut. Patton's looking at him with that smile that doesn't feel like a smile, where it's mostly teeth and tight lines and a glint in his eyes that reminds him of Remus's morningstar. He brings his hands back towards himself immediately. "Yeah?"

"I think that's enough for now, don't you?" He tilts his head. "I mean, you've been talking about—what was it? Hammerhead sharks?"

"Yeah, well, I started talking about those 'cause I think it's really interesting how many monsters are designed around the idea of—" he cuts himself off when Patton holds up a hand.

"Yes, well. You've been talking about it for close to an hour, and I think that's enough."

"O-oh."

"Yeah, kiddo. I know we've been working on you getting your thoughts out in a way that's respectful to people's ears and time, but maybe we should try that again, hm? Oh, I know you just get excited," he says when Roman's just about to mumble something along those lines, "but there are ways to be excited and still be polite, right?"

"Yeah."

"Come on, look at me when I'm talking to you. Don't tell me you've forgotten how to do that too."

Roman snaps his head up, stifling the wince at the jolt of pain that shoots through him as he makes himself make eye contact with Patton. "I—I didn't forget how to do that."

"I didn't say you did, Roman."

"Y-yeah, yes, you did. You just told me not to tell you that I've forgotten how to do that."

"No, I didn't, Roman." Patton's voice suddenly hardens, almost cracking across him like a whip. "That's not a nice thing to accuse someone of saying."

"But I heard it! I just heard it!"

Patton raises an eyebrow. "Did anyone else hear me say that?"

"Nope," Virgil says, not even looking up from his phone. Logan shakes his head, only glancing in Roman's direction before returning to the work in front of him.

"B-but I—"

"But nothing, Roman," and now there's not even a hint of false warmth left in his voice, "I thought you were doing better about this. And stop tearing at your hands, you'll hurt yourself doing that."

I wouldn't have to tear at my hands if you let me stim normally, he thinks but doesn't say because as much as he hates it, Patton's sort of correct right now.

"I think it'd be best if you went to your room for a little while, don't you?"

"…yeah."

"Good. You don't have to come down for dinner either."

His head jerks up as Patton turns to walk away. "Wh-what did you say about dinner?"

Patton doesn't turn around, but the line of his shoulders tenses. "I didn't say anything about dinner, Roman, what ever could you mean?"

"I just—I just meant—is it still okay if I come back down for dinner?"

"Why would I ever forbid you from eating dinner, Roman?"

Roman sinks out. Whenever Patton's voice gets all soft and dangerous like that, he needs to go. He goes so quickly he doesn't see Remus watching him from the top of the couch.

***

"Did you see him last week? Patton so much as waited to say something and he was stumbling all over himself to fix it like a misbehaved puppy."

"His eyes get so big and I swear to fucking god he whines."

"He actually whines?"

"Like a kicked puppy!"

"Of course he does."

Roman turns his head and bites into the plant growing next to his shoulder. Their laughs echo in his ears and he hates it, he hates it, he hates it.

***

"So I think I know what's going on—"

"Fuck!" Roman leaps off the bed and scrabbles around in the blanket, toppling over onto the floor as Remus cackles. "Don't fucking do that, Re!"

"But it's fun to scare you sometimes!"

Roman glares at him, going back to scrambling and solving his Rubik's Cube. "What do you want?"

"I wanna talk about the curse you've got hanging all over you and why the first thing you didn't do was come to me about it."

"I didn't even know it was a curse, okay? Curses don't normally hang around outside of the Imagination."

"Aside from the fact that that's bullshit, Ro—" Remus prods him with a toe— "you still didn't come to me."

"Yeah, well…" He twists the cube a little extra viciously. "Wasn't exactly in a place where I could talk about it."

Remus stops poking him immediately, quickly shimmying down to the floor and wrapping his arms tightly around Roman. The pressure's almost an instant relief, a gasp leaving his lips as his hands fall peacefully back into his lap. Remus sets his head on his shoulder. "Was it bad?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Roro."

"Wasn't your fault."

"Sympathy, not apology," Remus says quietly, scooting to get Roman's bulk between his knees so he can lean them back against the foot of the bed. "Do you at least know what it is?"

"I'm pretty sure it's some kind of thought-swap curse? Like—she said I would regret being so careless with my tongue if I knew what others were thinking, so…"

"So that sounds like she made it so you'd hear the bad things people thought about you."

"I think it's just what people think about me."

"Nope. Nuh-uh, can't be, 'cause then you'd've heard how awesome I thought your infodump about hammerhead sharks was."

Roman twists in his arms. "Really? You thought it was cool?"

"Are you kidding? I wanna go to Ollie right now and have him take us to that big coral reef near the shipwrecks so we can watch 'em swim."

"I don't really wanna go swimming right now, but maybe later?"

"Sure, Roro. Hey, let's go tell Thomas about it!"

"You sure he won't mind?"

Remus gives him a look. "Thomas loves your monster rants almost as much as I do. They're great for brainstorms even if Lolo's too stuck-up to wanna do it outside of Halloween season. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, let's go!"

Roman laughs as Remus drags him down to the living room.

***

"You know, sometimes I really do think there's something wrong with him."

"Jeez, what tipped you off?"

"No, not like that, just—you know he doesn't talk about it to anyone, right? It's like he's making it easier for himself to be hurt."

"He's Roman. He bruises like a peach no matter what he does."

"Guess they don't call him the Ego for nothing."

"Hah! Yeah, like that was gonna be a shock to anyone who's spent more than thirty consecutive seconds in the same room as him."

Bruises bloom like violets across his ribs. Breath rattles out of his mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut and hunkers down into the foliage. No one will look for him here, perhaps they can leave him to ache in peace for once.

***

"No, really, I think that's super cool, Roman."

Roman beams, hands flapping in excitement. Remus chuckles from where he's lounging on the floor. "See? Told you, Roro."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

Thomas laughs. "Are you guys gonna go see if you can find any in the Imagination?"

"I think Ollie's seen a couple near one of the shipwrecks, I'm gonna ask him."

"Let me know what you find, I don't actually think I've ever seen one not on TV before."

"Wasn't there that one in the aquarium?"

"I don't think that was a hammerhead. And it wasn't that big."

"Well, if that's what you're interested in—"

"Don't start with me, Remus."

"You're no fun sometimes, you know that?"

"I don't know what to do with him. It's like having a child that refuses to grow up."

Roman whips around so quickly he almost brains himself on the coffee table. He can hear Thomas and Remus trying to ask what's wrong. His eyes dart around the empty room. But he'd heard Patton like he was standing right there—

"Roman? Hey, buddy, what was that about?"

"You can't expect him to be perfectly behaved all the time, Patton."

He jerks around again as Logan's voice rings crystal clear in the pause. Thomas and Remus look at him strangely, but he can't see Logan either. "What's—what's going on?"

"I don't know, Roman, what's—"

"I don't expect him to be perfect! I've given up on that a long time ago. I just wish he'd behave normally for once!"

"Stop it," he whimpers, clapping his hands over his ears and rocking back and forth, "stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it—"

"Ro," Remus murmurs, his voice all whispery and low the way it is when he shortcuts through all the noise to talk to someone, "Ro, it's just me and Thomas. You're in the living room with us. You're safe. Can we help you?"

"Make them stop! Make them stop it, make them stop talking about me!"

"Who's talking about you?"

"Come on, you can't tell me you're not annoyed with him sometimes too. What does he think he is, a child? A cartoon character?"

"Roman's mannerisms are his own."

"You don't have to be polite, Logan, it's not like he can hear us right now."

"I can hear you," Roman whimpers, his hands still clutching and tearing at his hair, "I can hear you, stop it, stop it, stop it—"

All of a sudden, his mind fills with white noise. Well, it's not white noise exactly, but it's the soft and quiet burbling of the lavender pools outside the stone castle and his shoulders relax instinctively. His hands stay tangled in his hair as he pants, spittle drying on his lips. Remus's voice murmurs something else to Thomas and then there's a warm, heavy blanket draped across his lap. He keeps his eyes closed until he's no longer about to cry.

"Roman," he hears Thomas ask over the burble, "can I come give you a hug?"

He nods. Thomas's arms wrap around his waist, his chin on his shoulder and oh, Thomas is so warm…

"Lean against me, that's it, I've got you." His hand presses warmly against his still-hitching stomach. "Shh, shh, you're doing really well. We're right here. We're not going anywhere."

"I admit sometimes it's more than a little off-putting."

He winces at Logan's words, dulled as they are behind Remus's powers, and Thomas shushes him immediately, asking what it is he can do to help. He just leans wordlessly into him, tucking his chin against his chest as he tries to pull his hands from his hair.

"Hey, hey, easy." Remus's hands cover his and coax them free, slow and gentle. "Can you hold onto me instead?"

He blindly twists his hands into the tulle at the front of Remus's costume, pulling him closer until their knees are mashed together. Remus comes easily, setting his chin on Roman's other shoulder. He takes a shuddering breath, smelling the sunlight still lingering on Thomas's shirt and the damp moss smell that Remus never seems to wash out completely. He's safe. He's here in the living room.

"And it's not like he has anything to show for it that would actually be useful."

"I would feel differently if he were actually able to get any of his work done, this is true."

"Hey, hey, Roro—"

"Shh, shh, buddy," Thomas says softly as he whines and curls in on himself, "you can talk to us. What's going on?"

"I keep hearing them—I can hear them—they won't stop talking about me, they won't stop—"

"Who won't stop? What can you hear?"

"P-Patton. And Logan. They won't stop—they won't stop talking about me. They keep saying I'm horrible and that I'm a child and I'm not—I'm not doing anything but I am! I'm trying, I'm trying so hard, I'm using all the tricks they keep suggesting and it's just not working, I sit there and—and I do it and I try—I try for so long and it's like it just won't come out and I can't—I can't just do it and make it happen if it doesn't want to go—"

"Roman, they're not here right now—"

"I know they aren't here! I can still hear them!"

"Okay, I believe you." Thomas holds him a little tighter. "And they're saying…they're saying they're upset with you?"

"They're saying they h-hate me."

"I don't think they hate you, buddy—"

"They do! They don't like how I'm not always perfect and how annoying I am and how long it takes me to get work done but it's not that easy and it's not like I can't—I'm trying so hard and it's not my fault that it's been getting harder and harder recently and I can't do anything about it—"

"Roman, calm down—"

"—and it's not like I don't hate myself enough for it already!"

The room goes silent. Remus's magic disappears. Thomas's grip stutters.

"…oh, Roman…"

"I'm sorry," he gasps, curling in on himself again as the shame splits him neatly from chest to navel, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"Come here," Thomas says hoarsely, "come—just come here, Roman."

***

"Whoa. This place is cool as hell, Princey." Virgil steps out of the brush onto the stone path behind Roman, looking up at the towering trees. Flowering vines carpet the cave walls, drifting back and forth in the slight breeze coming off the crystal pool's surface. "What did you make it for?"

"You."

Virgil balks. "For me?"

"Well, sort of—sorry, that came out weird. I was thinking about that conversation we had about having just a soft space to breathe in and it, uh, made me want to make something like that."

"Holy shit, Roman."

"That's—sorry, I know that's kind of weird."

"No, no! That's really sweet of you. I, uh, I like it."

Roman beams. "You do?"

"Yeah, Roman, I really do. Thanks."

"You can come here whenever you want, okay? It's—it's a good place to be by yourself."

***

"My, Roman, you're looking splendid today."

"Just tell me what the fuck you want."

It pulls Janus up short, stopping him a few feet away. "Uh—"

"Look, we don't have to do the whole song and dance. We get it. You know I like compliments. We know I'm easily manipulated. We know you can always make me do what you want if you act like it's my idea or whatever. We get it. Just tell me what you want this time."

There's a few moments of tense silence. Then Janus clears his throat. "Roman, that's not what I meant."

"Not what you meant what? Not what you meant, you didn't think I'd figure it out? Not what you meant, you didn't think I'd call you out on it?"

"…maybe I just wanted to tell you that you looked nice today." Roman levels him with a glare so intense it actually makes him take a step backwards. "You know, you really can't pull off the whole intimidating look."

He grits his teeth to bite back the made you step back, didn't I? "Is that all you wanted?"

"If you keep acting like a brat, it might be."

"I'm not being a brat."

"I didn't say you were." His mouth curls up into a smirk. "Though, now that you mention it…"

He pinches the bridge of his nose. The only way out with Janus sometimes is through, and the more he gets himself riled up the longer Janus is going to toy with him until he breaks down and gives him exactly what he wants. "Look. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. You didn't deserve that. I'm having a bad day. I'm trying to work on the ideas, but I'm having trouble. No, I don't know why—and I'm trying all the things you guys suggested and they're not really working but I am trying them. Did you need me to do something for you?"

Janus just watches him for a long moment. Then he sighs. "I was going to ask if you'd be willing to swap dinner duty with me tomorrow."

Tomorrow. When he's already promised Patton that he'll have a talk with him in the morning. When he's already said he'll try and have everything ready for Logan by the afternoon. When he's going to have to sit through movie night without Remus because Ollie's pond needs to be cleaned and Patton already had words with them about Remus missing it, there's no way he'll let Roman miss it too.

"…yeah, I can do that. I probably won't be able to do anything fancy, though."

"That's alright. We all already lower our standards when it comes to your nights."

And that…that does it.

Roman whirls around, clutching his hands to his chest as he hustles down the hall, away, away, away from Janus and his silver tongue and his sharp words and the hurt. He shoulders past Virgil, who shouts in alarm, and doesn't stop until he reaches the door to the Imagination.

"What the fuck's wrong with him?" he hears in two-fold as he disappears through the door, one from the hallway he's just fled and the other inside, pounding against his skull.

"At this point, it might be easier to list what's not wrong with Roman."

***

"I just don't know what to do with him anymore."

"Oh, well, then we're all fucked. You knew how to handle him more than any of us ever did."

"Outside of Remus, I'm not sure that's true."

"Remus just eggs him on, that's not the same thing."

"You're right about that much."

Roman would love to say he's surprised. He really would. But hearing it like this, when he's forced to hear it for what it is, just feels like the sudden downpour at the end of the shittiest day to end all shitty days. To hear that he's never been anything more than a burden, a problem that needs to be managed, something that needs to be handled. Not someone that sometimes just needed a friend.

But…well, there's a reason he knew he could come here. Could hide among the vines, could sit with his back against the sharp rocks and cry and rock and scream and whine all he wanted without being found.

Virgil hadn't come here once since he showed him.

That really should've tipped him off sooner.

But Roman's just a stupid problem that no one knows how to deal with, so he didn't notice until he had to.

The Dragon Witch had been right.

***

"But seriously, all jokes aside, I'm getting really worried about him."

"Yeah, me too. He's stopped—I don't know exactly what it is he's stopped doing, but he's stopped doing it."

"I know…do you think we could try talking to him about it?"

"He just ran away from me when I tried to tell him he looked good, I don't know how well that's going to go."

"Okay, but did you, like, just tell him that or were you an asshole about it?"

"Virgil!"

"Janus."

"…okay, maybe I also wanted to switch dinner duty—"

"That's fucking why! It's hard enough to get Roman to believe we care about him, and then you go and do shit like that—"

"—but aside from that, I tried to ask him what was going on but then he just ran away from me. I don't—I don't know Virgil, I know he's going to be suspicious of me, but if I try and be gentle with him, that's just going to make him more freaked out."

"Yeah, but we gotta be better about it than whatever the fuck your shit show just was."

"I know."

"And we gotta figure out how to ask Remus about it."

"Ask me about what?"

"Holy fuck, Remus, don't do that."

"We're worried about Roman."

"You fucking should be, you assholes have been hounding him about shit he can't do for months."

"What do you mean, 'shit he can't do?'"

"You know, pretending he's a robot or some hell-spawn of an AI that can just churn out content whenever you fucking want him to. He's a living person, shit's hard for him sometimes too."

"No, not that—wait, Logan and Patton have been what?"

"Wait, what were you asking about?"

"Virgil—Virgil, I don't know if we should—"

"Janny, if you know something about my brother—"

"Calm down, put the tentacles away. Virgil and I were worried about how Patton keeps shutting Roman down when he tries to talk about things he's interested in, alright? Logan's worried too, he's—he's been trying to keep Patton distracted so he doesn't jump all over Roman."

"And the fact that Princey's been avoiding all of us more."

"But we didn't know about that, Remus, we swear."

"Princey told me he's been having trouble, okay? That's why I've been avoiding the Imagination recently, it's your guys's space, figured it'd be easier if I wasn't in there too."

"Is Roman okay?"

"No. He's really not."

"What can we do?"

"Remus! There you are, thank goodness—"

"Logan?"

"What's going on?"

"Why are you all wet?"

"I was in the Imagination and the wolf came and found me."

"The what?"

"Oh, fuck."

"Wait, no, go back, what wolf?"

"He's one of the twins's creatures—"

"He's not ours by any sense of the word and we're gonna have this conversation while we're running!"

"Will someone explain to me what's going on?"

"Logan, show me where—"

"Right this way—"

"Janus, I swear to god if you don't tell me what's going on—"

"I'll do it while we're running, like Remus said, now go!"

***

A low growl wakes him.

He stirs, still too cold, still too fragile, and a warm puff of breath soothes the worst of his aching limbs. He opens his eyes to see the muzzle in front of him. Jaws the size of him open to reveal long white fangs, a tongue a deeper red than the sort that flows through his veins, eyes several feet away yet still far too close as the wolf laps delicately at his beaten hands. With shaking fingers, he reaches out and touches the warm fur.

The wolf closes his mouth with another soft growl. His nose nudges gently at his sternum—though how gentle can a wolf the size of a house be?—and pulls away, silently asking if he can stand. He staggers to his feet. As he does, he tries to steady himself on the sharp wall and cuts one of his hands. The wolf growls, and suddenly his hand is between his jaws.

He freezes, and yet all that happens is the lapping of a massive tongue as the wolf cleans away the blood.

Several creatures in the Imagination are entities in and of themselves. They are capable of great feats that no normal creation should be and operate outside the rules the twins abide by. As such, it is not of great shock when Roman feels the curse energy begin to fade away, but it is with such a tenderness that his knees grow weak and he sinks down to the floor.

There is no condemnation in the wolf's gaze, for he knows Roman far too well, but there is a silent question.

"I couldn't," he croaks, "I couldn't. I—I just couldn't."

One of his fangs just touches the edge of his finger.

"I don't know. Didn't I—didn't I deserve it?"

Another growl, louder this time. It vibrates up his arm and into his chest and leaves such a burst of shame that he, forgetting who it is that holds his hand, tries to pull away but he's held fast. The wolf licks his hand again, soothing him, but does not let him go.

"It's so hard—it's so hard, I'm just so tired."

Jaws part, his hand is freed, now cleaned of blood. The wolf lays his head down in front of him, ears flattened, and nudges Roman's leg with his nose. Roman lays his hand there, trembling, and he blows a warm breath over him.

"…you went to Remus?" The wolf blinks slowly. "I…I don't know if I'm ready to see them yet. What if they—what if they're mean to me again?"

He winces at how much a child that makes him sound like, but the wolf only blinks again. There's a low thud from the entrance to the cavern and he glances over to see that his tail has completely covered the opening in the rock wall. The wolf will not let them in unless he believes they will not hurt Roman, and it is only that knowledge that gives him the strength to tell the wolf to move his tail aside.

***

He's sitting at the edge of the water when he hears them coming. He turns just in time to have Remus barrel into him, knocking him over with the force of hug.

"Oh, little one," he hears Logan say over the sound of his own tears, "I'm so sorry, Remus explained everything, I'm so sorry—I never meant any of it, not like that—I was only frustrated—"

"We don't hate you, sweetie," Janus says next, crouching in the sand, "we never hated you, you're not a burden—"

"Shh, shh…" Remus puts his mouth next to Roman's ear and fills his head with the soft sound of Ollie's squeaks and whistles. "That's it…that's it, Roro, it's all okay. You're okay, you're gonna be okay."

"Guys, give them a little bit of space, Roman just got un-cursed."

Shuffling in the sand. Roman looks up to see them all giving him varying looks of concern—Virgil at least tries to make a grimacing smile—oh, he's still crying—

"Ro, focus on me. Just on me, it's okay, let me squish you back into your body."

"You—you came, you came 'cause you cared?"

"Of course we came 'cause we care, Roro, that's why the wolf came and got us. Well—why he got Lolo."

"L-Logan?"

"Yes, little one." Logan inches forward just enough to card his hand through Roman's hair. "I was—I was worried, looking for you—Patton had told me you'd stormed off in a huff earlier and I knew that couldn't have been the whole story—"

"What?"

A look of confusion crosses his face before it softens. "Oh, Roman, I've never meant for you to think I only assume the worst of you…no, little one, I knew if you were upset then there had to be something more going on…and then you weren't in any of your normal spots and then the wolf came…oh, Roman…"

For he's still crying. He's still crying.

"R-Re—"

"Right here, Roro. Right. Here."

"I really didn't mean to make you so upset," Janus whispers next, "I'm sorry, little prince, forget about dinner. Don't worry about anything except making yourself happy for a little while, alright?"

"You don't—you don't hate my dinners, right?"

"What? No, sweetie, never!" Janus looks aghast at the thought. "Why would you believe that?"

"You said—you said you have to lower your standards when I cook."

"You said what?"

"Janus!"

"No—no, I didn't—I was going to tease you, sweetie, I didn't mean it—that's why I didn't say it, because I knew it wasn't the right time—oh, Roman, no."

"I'm gonna punch you in the face," Remus says solemnly, despite Roman's protests, "no, he knows he earned it."

"It's okay, Roman. It's just like the bitch slap you gifted me, he does this a lot."

"You'd think you'd do less punch-worthy things."

"Can't help it sometimes."

Virgil snorts. "You absolutely can, though. That's the thing. Don't listen to him, Roman, he's full of shit."

"Except when he's telling you that you look good."

"Except then."

Roman laughs. It's not really a laugh, it's a gross and sniffly thing that sounds like a dying goose, but it's meant to be a laugh and their faces light up like it's the best laugh ever. Maybe it is. He doesn't really know right now.

"Hey," Remus stage-whispers, "I think they'd really like to come see the hammerhead sharks with us."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was super cool hearing you talk about them," Virgil says and Logan nods in agreement, "we're down to come if that's cool."

"Wait, what's this about sharks?"

"Oh, right, you weren't there. Guess Roman's just gonna have to explain it to you too," Virgil says with an exaggerated sigh and a wink.

"W-what about Patton?"

"Oh, Pat-Pat's currently having a talk with Thomas about things," Remus says offhandedly as he squeezes Roman tighter. "They'll be busy for a while yet."

"…you guys really wanna come see the sharks?"

"Yeah, Roro."

"Yes, please."

"I'm in."

"Sounds fun!"

***

At the next meeting, Roman proposes an aquarium visit.

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#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit

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anxiousgaypanicking · 3 months ago

Text

Size Difference

Kingxiety (King Creativity x Virgil) Kinktober 2023 Day Thirteen: Size Difference Warnings: choking, stomach bulges, size differences, overstimulation, cum inflation, dacryphilia

"Ah, Anxiety," King greets him, grinning wide through his beard. "You've come to visit."

Anxiety feels tense within the large, grandeur room. King chose to sleep in a vast castle in the imagination instead of in the mindscape with the rest of them, though Anxiety figures that if he had to choose between the dark side, the light side, and a side-less void that could be filled with whatever he decided, he'd choose the imagination as well. But standing in the carefully crafted castle, Anxiety feels rather small. Especially when standing face to face with King, who was double his size.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Anxiety shakes his head. "I'm just here to pass a message along," he explains, avoiding eye contact. "Deceit wants you to stop pushing Thomas to stay up super late. Says it's 'bad for his sleep cycle,' and stuff. Says he doesn't like how I act when Thomas is sleep deprived, either."

King stares at him, and then frowns slightly. "What does Deceit know about Thomas anyway?" he asks, though it's obvious the question is rhetorical. Shaking his head slightly, King directs his attention back to Anxiety. "And what does Deceit know about you? I quite like how feisty you are, tired or not. You're like a blazing spitfire."

Anxiety chews his inner cheek, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He ignores King, and instead says "I'm forced to listen to the light sides complain too. You're bothering everybody."

"Oh?" King's lips quirk into a smug smile. "You'd know plenty about that, wouldn't you?"

Anxiety frowns, lips curling into a sneer. He again brushes off King's jab, and curtly says "why are you being so nonchalant? Aren't you supposed to be on their side?"

Huffing out out a laugh that's powerful enough to echo throughout the shimmering room, King answers "my dear, I'm on my own side. The lights don't understand nor value my prowess, and the only thing Deceit is good at is criticism. In fact, I'm surprised that you even perpetuate this silly idea of 'sides.'"

Looking uncomfortable, Anxiety responds "we're all on a side. We can't change that. You can't just not be a light side because you're saying you're not. Same way I can't be a light side just by saying I am."

"And why not?"

Anxiety is no longer standing still, as this conversation makes him nervous. King almost questions why Deceit would send him here in the first place, before realizing that the former was probably too lazy to do it himself. He had a habit of attempting to solve problems from the shadows, after all, and refusing to address them until he absolutely had to.

After a few moments, Anxiety lets out an agitated huff and turns to walk away and leave this place, already sulking at the idea of recounting his failure to Deceit, but before he can get out the door, King stops him with a genuine "wait."

Anxiety lingers in the doorway despite his better judgement, not turning to look at King but awaiting his words. Silence hangs in the air for a moment, before Anxiety hears King chuckle softly.

"How about a proposition?" King begins, which has Anxiety frowning and turning to scowl at King.

"I'm not one for making deals," Anxiety bitterly responds, "or doing favors. Whatever sick and twisted torture you'd like to do can surely be done on any of your fabricated peasants."

King waves his hand dismissively. "I wasn't alluding to torture, silly," he assures him, though the words feel rather condescending. "I can imagine why you'd worry about that, however. I'm not ignorant to the more... experimental things I do to my creations. But, no, the things I want to do to you are much more fun, and - after you hear me out - you have full autonomy to refuse. I'll even let you slap me across my perfect face should my offer offend you, if you so desire."

Anxiety raises his chin. He does desire knocking the smug look off of King's groomed countenance.

"If you do my the honor of accompanying me to my chambers, I shall consider loosening my hold on Thomas's sleep schedule, and will instead relegate my wonderful ideas to strictly daylight hours."

"Accompany you... as in..."

King's lips stretch into a delighted grin. "Sleep with me. Have sex with me. Love-make with me. Whatever you'd like to call it."

"What do you get out of this?" Anxiety asks, stunned.

King shrugs. "I could ask you the same question."

Anxiety splutters in a mixture of frustration and fluster, clearly conflicted between the options of sleeping with King or getting chewed out by Deceit. Neither were favorable, but honestly the lesser of two evils was sitting right before him, and had spread his legs and leaned forward, smirking as he waits for Anxiety to consider his words.

Hesitant, Anxiety shuffles forward, and says "fine, whatever. Let's go to your bedroom and get this over with," attempting to hide the fact his eyes flicker over King's large stomach and tall stature once he stands.

King descends from the throne of which he was previously seated upon, and rather shamelessly lifts Anxiety up off the ground in a practiced scoop, cradling Anxiety easily in one arm, only made easier by their rather comparable size discrepancy. Anxiety immediately starts squirming, spewing out "put me down, freak!" but his protests are ignored in favor of King throwing open a large set of double doors, and tossing Anxiety onto an even larger bed.

As he thrashes, Anxiety only manages to further tangle himself in the sheets, and it takes a solid few minutes for his head to finally emerge from a plethora of silk blankets and cotton sheets.

"Asshole!" Anxiety hisses, snarling in King's direction as his bangs fall messily over his face. Even as they obscure his eyes, King can tell he's glaring. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

"You can't die," King reminds him, before shrugging off his dramatic, floor-length cape, letting it gently fall to the floor. His hands shamelessly then begin undoing his shirt, which has Anxiety staring, enraptured. His cheeks are bright red while King's face displays nothing but smugness, even more confident once his shirt is peeled away and Anxiety is looking up and down his bare chest and stomach.

King was big in all regards. If he flexed - which he does solely to gauge Anxiety's reaction - he developed rather prominent muscles. Sturdy abs, big arms, defined pectorals, all beautifully decorated with hair. And when he relaxed - which he does immediately after - all that muscle softens into pudgy fat, giving him a rather big silhouette that was simultaneously domineering and huggable.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" King teases, as he undoes his pants just enough to pull them off easier later. Anxiety seems both embarrassed and annoyed that King keeps them on.

"I'm just trying to mentally prepare for seeing you on top of me," Anxiety bitterly refutes. "I'm sure it won't be pretty."

King huffs out a laugh. "My dear," he starts, leaning over the edge of his bed and beginning to crawl onto it, "everything I do is pretty."

Anxiety shrinks back against the sheets, as though encouraged to by King's massive build, until he's laying flat on his back and King is leaning over him. King's fingers tauntingly trace over the blankets beside his head and around his body, but don't touch him outright, instead blowing on Anxiety to move his hair out of his face. Anxiety grimaces at the action, and then narrows his eyes at King afterwards.

"Prick," he mutters.

King ignores him. "Well? Aren't you going to get undressed?"

"I've been too tangled in your stupidly large bed to move, let alone get undressed! Are you trying to get me to give up and go back to the dark side? Because right now, you're pissing me off way more than Deceit would."

King makes a face. "Don't compare us. I'm far better than him, the same way I'm far better than you."

"Far better at being annoying."

Frowning, King pushes his hand into the bed beside Anxiety's head, sliding his knees upwards and forcing Anxiety's legs to spread around his waist. Anxiety flushes at their shifting position.

"Watch your words," King scolds him, voice low, "remember that you're in my domain, and I won't tolerate disrespect. You're free to leave if you'd like; I already told you that you may. But I won't sit here and take your bratty behavior the same way that lazy, two-faced, no-good, encroaching-"

"King," Anxiety says, snapping King out of his mini rant. King almost looks surprised for a moment, before grinning, and bending down further to reach Anxiety's face.

With their lips almost touching, and his stomach pressing down rather pleasurably against Anxiety's front, King says "that's my king, to you," and then uses his hand to tilt Anxiety's head upwards. He catches Anxiety's lips in a deep kiss, moving his lips rather expertly against Anxiety's own inexperienced ones, listening to the little noises of humiliation the latter makes as he's blessed with this intimate experience.

When King pulls away, he begins sliding his hands up Anxiety's dark grey shirt. Anxiety shivers at his touch, but doesn't stop King, and instead turns his head to the side in an attempt to keep himself composed.

"Do you have any qualms about me stripping you down?" King asks, as he slowly begins to drag up the fabric concealing Anxiety's front. "Or are you secretly looking forward to this endeavor?"

"I don't look forward to anything," Anxiety rebuttals, "let alone anything involving you or the other lights."

"Hurtful," King huffs, "but not an answer to my question."

Rolling his eyes, Anxiety spits "do whatever you want, so long as you do it fast. I don't want to be here longer than I have to be."

It's King's turn to look annoyed, though playfully so, and pulls Anxiety's hoodie and shirt off and revealing the thin, pale stomach underneath. King raises an eyebrow and pokes him, which has Anxiety slapping his hand away at the action.

"You could stand to gain a few pounds," King comments, which has Anxiety groaning.

"Are you seriously criticizing my looks right now?" he crosses his arms over his stomach, subtly attempting to hide it. "As if you weren't the one proposing we sleep together. If you want somebody 'perfect' then you can just summon a sex doll!"

King moves Anxiety's arms out of way. "It's not a critique; it's a... suggestion. Doesn't Deceit feed you?"

"I feed myself."

"Not very much from the looks of it." King hums as he pins Anxiety's wrists above his head, dragging his large fingers over the scarily prominent ribcage and hip bones. As King's fingers circle Anxiety's pelvis, he suddenly smirks, and adds "but this means my cock will be nice and snug inside of you. Do you think I'll be able to see the outline of my shaft through your stomach?"

Anxiety stares at him and splutters. "What? I don't- you freak! You're weird!"

King grins, and then undoes his pants just enough to let his cock out, which has Anxiety shutting up almost immediately. Leaning over Anxiety, King's cock presses between his own heavy, hairy stomach, and Anxiety's smaller one, which lets Anxiety truly see just how large King's cock is. Sure, he could have assumed that it'd be big - King is twice his size, after all - but it nearly goes all the way up to Anxiety's ribcage, and it's girthier than Anxiety's own fist.

"Holy... shit..." Anxiety breathes, voice shaky. "King... I don't... that won't-"

"It will," King assures him. "You'll stretch. Don't worry; I'll even pamper you a bit so it doesn't hurt. Trust me; I'm an expert on all things intimacy."

Anxiety grits his teeth. "Whatever. Just... just..."

King shushes him, and pets over Anxiety's face, before working off Anxiety's skinny jeans. Anxiety doesn't bother making it easier for him, and leaves King to do all the work, but it's only a matter of time before all his clothes land on the floor, making him feel naked and vulnerable. It has him flushing dark and avoiding King's eyes, but even so he can feel King staring intensely at him.

King waves his hand and summons up a rather large bottle of lube soon after, and then dumps half of it onto one of his large hands, smearing it between his fingers and making sure they're all properly coated in the substance.

"Relax," King urges Anxiety, rubbing his clean thumb over Anxiety's wrists, which he releases after a moment, letting Anxiety grip the sheets instead. "You're going to feel so, so good."

Anxiety feels one of King's massive, thick fingers slide down past his balls and between his crack, smearing an excess amount of lube over his cheeks before just one of his fingers is pushing inside. Immediately, his toes curl, and his back is arching off the bed as he bites back a moan of unfamiliarity. It feels foreign, but not bad. Just... overwhelming.

"There we go..." King praises him, his soft tone quite the contrast to his earlier ego. "Look at you, taking my finger so well! At this rate, you'll be able to handle my cock in no time!"

Anxiety peeks one of his eyes open to stare at King's throbbing shaft, still rubbing against his smaller frame. Meekly, he retorts "I doubt that," but his voice is barely above a whisper. And honestly, he doesn't bother repeating himself, not wanting to give King any reason to stop. He's almost ashamed of how his own cock hardens at King's rubbing over it, and how it twitches as he thinks about being impaled on King's length.

King's free hand stays planted on the bed beside Anxiety's head, but very subtly begins to crawl over Anxiety's collarbones. And as King very slowly begins to insert a second finger - stretching Anxiety further than he's ever been stretched - King's hand wraps around his throat, squeezing the sides of Anxiety's neck and limiting his blood flow, causing a sudden rush of surprise, pleasure, and dizziness to be sent through him. His hips attempt to jerk, but hardly go anywhere with King's thick fingers buried inside of him.

"Good boy," King coos, eating up Anxiety's pathetic display with his intense eyes. "You're doing great. Relax..."

Pumping his fingers in and out of Anxiety, King is fully aware of just how pleasured Anxiety must feel. Sure, he's clearly not used to this, but King watches with a smug smile as Anxiety's mouth opens in a silent moan and his body jerks as King's digits dig particularly deep into him.

Easing his grip on Anxiety's throat, he listens giddily as Anxiety sucks in a mouthful of air, before exclaiming a rather powerful "fuck!" that says everything King needs to know about how Anxiety is feeling.

As he adds a third finger, he tightens his grip again, once again leaving Anxiety literally breathless.

Anxiety's small hands press against King's much larger one, but not to try and push him away. Mostly just to keep himself grounded as spit dribbles from the corners of his agape mouth.

He can't breathe, and he can hardly think, and King's fingers just stretch him open without a care. He's going slow enough that Anxiety can't even worry about potential tearing, and it doesn't hurt regardless because of how thorough King is being. And he doesn't boast about how careful he is, but Anxiety can tell. He can see in King's eyes how badly he wants to get on to the main event, and yet he takes his time anyway. That mere fact has Anxiety letting out a strained whimper as his small cock rubs against King's.

The pads of his fingers nudge against Anxiety's prostate, making Anxiety jolt as much as he possibly can beneath King's heavy weight, and what finally has King grinning and slipping his fingers out.

"There we go," he purrs, as he releases Anxiety's throat, letting him take in a much needed breath. His hand moves to instead grab the back of Anxiety's thigh and lift it up, pulling his hips up from the mattress.

Anxiety watches as King takes the remaining bottle of lube and pushes it against his hole, before squeezing the bottle, suddenly and intensely flooding Anxiety's insides with the substance. Anxiety lets out a cry, and reaches behind him to grab a pillow, throwing it at King's face out of sheer instinct.

King laughs as it hits him. "What?" he argues, his mustache stretched over his playful smile. "This was the most efficient way to make sure things would go comfortably!"

He pulls the bottle from Anxiety's hole, shakes it (which leaves Anxiety to watch as the bottle's contents are magically refilled) and then turns it upside down, using up the entire bottle once more on lubing up his cock. Anxiety almost believes it to be excess, but watching as King spreads it over his length has Anxiety now doubting if it's even enough.

"King," Anxiety starts, nervousness clear in his voice. But King just shushes him, and squeezes his thigh, rubbing his massive cock against Anxiety's awaiting hole.

"King," Anxiety says again, whimpering the word out. "King, is this- is this-"

"It won't hurt," King assures him. "I'd never hurt you, I promise. And if it does, you tell me, and I'll stop. And if it doesn't, but you're not having fun, I'll stop then as well. Would you like me to stop now?"

Anxiety's eyes shine with brief hesitation, before he's flushing dark and biting his lip as he shakes his head no.

King kisses his ankle as he guides it to wrap around his waist. "Good boy," he soothes, before he very slowly begins to work his cock into the man beneath him.

Anxiety moans loud and pathetically as he feels the tip of King's shaft stretch him open. It's way more inside of him than King's fingers even were, but like King promised, it doesn't hurt. However, Anxiety does wonder if his body will be able to hold the massive length, as he already feels incredibly full while being fully aware King's barely halfway inside of him.

"It's not gonna-" Anxiety stammers, as he watches his thin stomach bulge with King's girth. He sets his shaky hands against his stomach, pressing down on King's cock from the outside, which makes them both groan.

"It will," King responds, not even needing Anxiety to finish. He lowers Anxiety's hips a bit so he can properly get a look at the bump, and lets out a satisfied laugh when he sees it. He presses his own hand down on it, enveloping Anxiety's fingers in his grasp, which has Anxiety gasping and squirming, squeaking out pathetic obscenities as he's filled further and further. And King just keeps pressing his cock deeper and deeper into him.

Anxiety watches the bulge creep up his stomach - past what Logic would say is plausible. He knows they're not real, but even this is a ridiculous stretch! Literally!

Until finally King's entire length is buried deep in him, leaving his hips off the bed and his stomach stretched.

Anxiety's eyes are brimming with pretty tears, his face a deep red. His hair is slick to his head with sweat, and one of his hands is tangled in the sheets, while the other stays trapped beneath King's own.

Whimpering, Anxiety opens his mouth to plead, but no sound comes out. Anything he wants to say dies before it can even come up his throat. Every little bit of him is overwhelmed by the way King feels inside of him, and he can barely comprehend it. Especially when King starts moving; Anxiety barely has time to prepare.

"King," Anxiety moans out, as he feels King's cock shift within him. Every movement King makes feels amplified tenfold to Anxiety, who's body is on the receiving end of each bit of stimulation. Still though, King slowly slides his cock halfway out, which makes Anxiety feel already so much emptier. He can barely brace himself for when King thrusts back in.

He lets out a cry as King shoves his shaft back fully inside of him, with King exhaling sharply at the feeling.

"Deep breath, Anxiety," King guides him, as if sweat isn't rolling down his thick chest, drawing Anxiety's blurry pupils to his attractive midsection. "In, and out." King pulls out a bit again, and then thrusts hard, making Anxiety's body jolt once more. King releases his stomach, but keeps hold of Anxiety's hand, pinning it above Anxiety's head and entwining their fingers. King's massive hand envelops Anxiety's digits, but Anxiety finds himself embarrassingly comforted by the wordless act of affection. "You're doing so well. You're taking my cock so well. It's rather impressive, honestly."

Though Anxiety feels overwhelmed, he can't help but grin at King's words, and pant out "asshole," which has King smiling knowingly.

Assured that Anxiety is at least comfortable enough to joke around, King slips more of his cock out, before thrusting in. He positions a hand on Anxiety's hip to help rock him on his cock, which makes both of them moan.

As Anxiety clenches around him, squeezing his cock from all sides with his small body, King can't help but feel pleasured.

"No person I can summon could possibly feel as good as you do," King grunts, as he watches Anxiety's stomach bulge with each thrust of his cock. "You stretch realistically, you react pathetically; you're the perfect combination of slut and sass to keep me interested."

"You're lucky you're bigger than I am," Anxiety pants out, though he's quickly interrupted by an intense moan that he fails to swallow down, "otherwise your cheek would have a bright red handprint on it right about now."

King squeezes Anxiety's hand, unable to hide his amusement at the comment as he continues fucking into him. He never speeds up past a steady pace - clearly not wanting to overwhelm him - but makes sure he thrusts hard. His thick shaft rubs against Anxiety's prostate, abusing it constantly without even trying. Anxiety's beautifully teary eyed, biting back softer noises but unable to keep the louder ones from escaping his lips, as his body trembles and he cries out. King can even imagine his back arching off the bed if he didn't have a massive cock inside of him weighing him down.

"King," Anxiety whines, barely able to articulate his thoughts. "King-"

"Close already?" King coos, interrupting Anxiety's train of thought. Anxiety gives him an embarrassed glare, but doesn't refute King's words, instead just biting his lips and weakly nodding. King groans as he leans over Anxiety further, pressing their bodies together and making Anxiety feel wonderfully trapped beneath King's hairy stomach. "That's okay. I'm flattered, if anything. Go ahead and come. I'm not done with you yet."

Anxiety tries to meekly protest, though nothing is properly said, and though Anxiety does bitterly try and hold back his orgasm, his cock is being actively stimulated by King's own torso, and his prostate being thrust against truthfully doesn't help in his spiteful endeavor. So despite his embarrassment, Anxiety comes quickly thereafter, with a loud cry spilling from his throat as his head presses back into the fluffy pillows beneath him.

King moans at his display. "God, Anxiety, who knew you'd make such a good toy?" he murmurs, and watches as Anxiety's overstimulated display can do nothing to argue against his words. Instead, Anxiety's eyes fill with shining tears, as his hand clenches hard to King's upper arm, nails digging into the flesh. He needs something to hold onto, and King is more than happy to be scratched by his jagged, bitten nails.

"I shouldn't give you too much credit, though," King is quick to add, as he clarifies "most people are obedient for their king. Who's your king, Anxiety? Am I your king?"

"N-n-"

King thrusts into him rough, promptly shutting up his refutation. "Try again."

"Mm," Anxiety presses his lips into a thin line, turning his head stubbornly to the side. Against King's stomach, his cock twitches, and is rubbed and fucked quickly back to full hardness, still slick with his mess from mere moments ago.

"Say it."

King's breathing speeds as he watches the tears roll rapidly down Anxiety's cheeks. Though Anxiety is attempting to refuse his words, King just can't back down.

"Say it, or I swear I'll leave right now, and won't budge an inch when your desperate, pathetic, needy self comes crawling back to me for the satisfaction you know only I can bring you. Who's your king?"

Anxiety's pupils dart in his direction, his eyes shining with the same lust and neediness that King's sure his own reflect. Both of them want this. Both of them are holding to the other, clinging to them.

"You're-" Anxiety whimpers, letting out an overwhelmed sob as King fucks into his prostate, filling him with his cock, "you're my- my-" he sucks in a shaky breath, and squeezes his eyes shut to avoid meeting King's. "My king."

King moans at his words, and presses the entirety of his body into Anxiety's. "Fuck yes," he breathes, his words barely loud enough for Anxiety to process as their bodies are as close as they can be. He holds Anxiety tightly, gripping him and thrusting into him as if Anxiety was a prized possession, and Anxiety gasps when he feels King's lips on his neck.

Without warning, and while gingerly kissing the flesh of Anxiety's throat where his hands were squeezing earlier, he comes, filling Anxiety's small body with loads of semen.

Anxiety truly feels he might burst. It's shot into him in massive waves, at first just flooding his insides, and then truly beginning to fill it. He's shocked there's even room considering how much space King's own cock takes up, but at the same time can feel streams squirting out his hole, dirtying the mattress. King makes an awfully pathetic noise into Anxiety's ear as he fills him. Anxiety comes too, both from the few, weaker thrusts King does as he rides out his orgasm, and from the feeling of being further stretched open. And then King pulls up, letting them both see the way Anxiety's stomach has bloated with his come, having been inflated without a care in the world.

Anxiety opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out, and instead he raises his trembling head towards King. King pets through his hair, smoothing his sweaty bangs out of his face.

"Good job," he praises, voice soft, in such a genuine manner that Anxiety has to look away in an attempt to hide his blush. "You did such a good job. So good."

King slowly slides his cock out of him, making Anxiety cringe at the feeling of King's semen gushing out of him as well, but King doesn't even comment on it. Instead, he lifts Anxiety's messy body up off the sheets with incredible ease, and tucks him against his chest, a lot sweeter than Anxiety would have expected him to behave.

"I'll run us a bath," King whispers, as he brings them both out of bed. "My tub is more than big enough for both of us. And you can spend the night with me, if you so desire. You'd be a great reason not to get out of bed and keep Thomas awake."

Anxiety flushes, and turns his head away. He gives no response, but doesn't decline all the same, so King decides that if he wants to leave, he may. But for now, he carries him to his massive, conjoined bathroom, and does indeed start the water, which pours from the faucet with bubble soaps and Epsom salts already pre-mixed in (as per the magic-adjacent rules of the imagination). He holds Anxiety intimately as he sits on the tub's ledge, waiting for the bath to fill.

And, well, Anxiety silently decides that maybe spending the night won't be so bad...

#kingxiety #kingxiety smut #sanders sides #sanders sides smut #not safe for sanders #agp smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #size difference

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