#also even if i was a picky eater that wouldn’t be an excuse to shame me for it

[pipcoded]

idk why my parents always make fun of me and shame me for being a picky eater, and made me believe i was a picky eater for a long time, when in reality there’s only two vegetables i don’t rly like and i’ll try most foods. including stuff they won’t touch like sashimi

[lovelykhaleesiii]

as I was taking I am taking FULL advantage of the requests.

as I am on a roll for chubby daddy! aegon and professor! aegon may I maybe suggest an idea where his class is very surprised to discover that he has a wife and a child while they catch them onto a pic-nic and aegon is like 'yeah, why do you think that your papers comes with glitter on them? or handprints?'.

just cute chubby daddy! aegon who doesn't only have to handle a toddler at home but also at work (although he teaches either at high school or university).

ok ok that's it, I am done and I hope you'll enjoy my silly requests but if you don't, pls feel free to ignore them!

Angsti this is yet another delicious request!!! thank you for spoiling me with your ideas I can never get enough!!! hope you enjoy this xox

To Lead Astray Or Not...

PAIRING: chubby!Professor!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader [Modern AU]

WORDS: 2,381.

WARNINGS: fluff, Daddy!Aegon, professor kink (?), female oral receiving, mentions of p in v sexual intercourse, size kink, slight breeding kink, non-implied references to affair/cheating, swearing.

A/N - something I whipped up on my little hiatus. still not 100% with my writing but it’s okay xx sorry my love, I changed the plot slightly, forgive me.

“Are they truly that oblivious to that shiny, gold band on your finger?” You lightly chuckle, amused at the revelation your beloved husband spoke of, upon returning home from work, with yet another spoiled gift of baked goodies in his hand.

Throughout the semester, since Aegon had commenced his new position, his pupils had taken it upon themselves, eager to delight their plump professor with delectable treats, knowing precisely the way to his heart was through his stomach. As untempted as Aegon was with their meticulous attempts, he wouldn’t deny himself to a few servings [the entire container], often plainly excusing his innocent debauchery with the line “it would be such a shame to waste food.” 

“That seems to be the case… As much as I try to flaunt it on their faces. This is ridiculous, there's no time for these shenanigans. I have to put an end to their madness, or else-.” Aegon exclaims, with a mouthful of baked choc-chip cookies in his plump mouth. The fullness of his handsome face had accentuated as he gorged himself silly. Seemingly the sedentary lifestyle of working behind a desk, the most strenuous action he’d often only undertaken, was that of lifting a ballpoint pen to mark a few papers, Amounting overtime gradually, as it began to blatantly show on his newly found stout figure. Not that you had grown to distaste your beloved husband’s changes, quite the opposite, in fact.

“Or else I’d be losing my husband to some college school girls? He’ll have to roll himself out of here,” You subtly chuckle, as you continued on stirring the full, warm pot at hand.

“Y/N- Do not toy with me about this. It’s serious-” Aegon firmly put it, before reaching for another cookie, eyeing it’s detail, most likely estimating ratio of choc chip inside.

Aegon shared an immense enjoyment when it came to food, relishing in different cuisines and palates, and mostly baked treats. He was scarcely a picky eater and had a grand appetite, going hand in hand. Often in the late hours of the night when he remained tediously awake, skimming over and dotting down notes on mounds of papers, did he find himself constantly munching on something. Whether it was a sneaky fast-food takeout or some sweet snack he could scour in the pantry, his keen mouth was always full and chomping.

His plush, soft belly throughout each semester had slowly extended in size, generously pushing across his waistline that was now hidden beneath the mass. His hips had grown wider in frame, love handles now obvious in plain sight even beneath his tight dress shirts and tightly fitted blazers, tubby to hold as it would pool at the sides. Standing beside your dear husband, it was evident that Aegon's substantial frame could smother you whole, if he ever so desired as you did. Despite him paying now mind to his evident changes, you had rather relished in it.

Sidetracked in your own sensual thoughts, your lustful eyes lingering over Aegon relievingly devouring another cookie, the sudden shrieking cries erupting from down the hall snapped you back to the reality at hand.

"I'll get her-" Aegon uttered, licking the crumbs of his fingers as he strolled away from you hovering over the stove, as you busied yourself with the evening’s dinner. A minute scattered by, when you heard the familiar, heavy footsteps of Aegon re-entering the kitchen once more, only this time, with a little companion strapped to his arms.

"Look who just woke up, my sweet princess," Aegon giddily whispered, cooing at the little girl in his arms, as she rubbed her little lilac eyes: a split image of her Daddy. Resting her tiny head against his broad shoulder, Aegon swayed her from side to side subtly, bopping her lightly as he tried to feed her a cookie, taking a sneaky bite from it first.

"Hiya Mumma, someone woke up a little early."

Walking over towards Aegon and your daughter cosily nestled in his thick arms, you softly reach and grip for her hand pulling it in for a loving kiss. Earning a small little yawn from her behalf, as Aegon tenderly pecked at the base of her head.

"Sounds like we have competition, you and I, babygirl-" You taunt, exchanging a swift wink to Aegon, who in response rolled his eyes to your jab.

“C’mon Y/N. There’s no competition at all. Nothing could possibly tempt me, when I’ve already won at life. I have everything I could have possibly imagined and more, all thanks to you-” 

“Not even with all these goodies, you can’t seem to help but scoff down, hmm?” 

“If I’m being frank, my love… These don’t even come close to your home-cooked meals, isn’t that right, bubba?” Aegon bopping his little girl, stirring her more awake, as she nibbled at the small bite from the cookie, her face adorably screwing with disgust, in agreement with her father’s dissatisfaction with the treats. 

“Well relieved to hear my cooking is keeping you grounded. Was getting worried I would be losing my husband to his schoolgirl fanclub. Perhaps their treats won’t be the only thing they’re willing to offer next time-” You tease, yet a grim tone coated your words, as you coldly turned your back to your husband, resuming your cooking once more. 

“Y/N, baby, c’mon now-” Aegon earnestly sighed, as he carefully plopped his daughter down at her high chair, who now took the cookie to her own matters: the only time you were willing to allow her to play with food rather than indulging herself as her father did. 

Aegon’s pudgy hands tightly gripped at your waist, tugging your body to swivel in his direction, as you face him defeatedly. 

“Now how could you ever think that of me? Am I so naive to be seduced by some minor league scholar, when I have such a beautiful, accomplished wife at home, that I just can’t ever get enough of, who spoils me like a King? I mean look at me woman. Look at what you’ve done to me!” Aegon chuckles proudly, swaying his thick arms up as his eyes hover over his swollen gut pressing up against your meek frame. 

“Please, Y/N. I’m going to come clear about this double life, squash all their hopes and dreams. You know how kids are at that age, don’t you remember how we were, huh?-” Aegon growls, as his hands snake their way behind, his palms finding their way naturally to your bosom, confidently squeezing at your fleshy cheeks, earning a little squeak from you. Intentionally pushing your smaller body against his cushioned frame, your blush lips meet with his momentarily falling into a passionate, longing kiss, as Aegon’s eager tongue peaks through your lips, swirling against yours. Immersing himself completely in your taste. Breaking free, his nose nuzzles against yours, as he gleefully smiles down at you. 

“Don’t you ever dare to think otherwise, it hurts my feelings when you think of me capable of that, you know,” He quietly mutters, as his thumb gently grasps and pulls at your chin, nudging you to look directly up at him, your dimly joyful eyes met with his half-hearted smirk.

“I love you, and only you. My precious girl. Shall I make it up to you tonight, hmm?” 

Giddily blushing and nodding to his words, just as Aegon slowly leaned in to chase another kiss, the loud babbling of your daughter tore him astray midway, interrupting the intimate moment, as you both gleamed at the little girl with sincere smiles, only to be met with her innocent frown. Just as her grandmother, Alicent, had noticed and shared, “she seems to have gathered her father’s expressive gene”, as she never seems to struggle nor shy away from her emotions. 

“And you, my little one-” Aegon boasts, as he races over towards her, picking her up once more with such ease, as her weight is close to that of a feather for him. 

“My two precious girls, what more could I possibly want?” 

Later that evening, after you had both dined well together and the little princess returned to her crib from her Daddy’s plush lap, fast asleep in her deep slumber once more, Aegon took his steady time proving exactly what he meant. Lusting and touching at your body as he slowly undressed you piece by piece, handling you with great care as though you were some rare gem he had just unearthed, a delicate commodity in his bare hands. He could scarcely keep his hands off you even during dinner or as you washed the dishes, lulling his little girl asleep in one arm, and the other wrapped tenderly around your waist, embracing you. 

“How’d I end up being the luckiest man in the world, huh? A wife that takes care of me, makes sure I’m abundantly well-fed, who blessed me with the most perfect child…. My beautiful fucking wife.” 

Kissing at your tender skin across your abdomen leaving a moist trail, Aegon seated himself at the edge of the mattress, and you remained standing above, with his soft hands held firmly at your hips. 

“And you think I would give up all this in a heartbeat? For a bunch of hormonal, minor league girls? You leave me no choice but to fuck some real, hard sense into you, Y/N.” 

“Hmm, is that so?” You breathlessly whimper, as Aegon’s mouth lapped at your entrance between the front folds, his fleshy hands once again, finding their way to your bosom, as he firmly grips and kneads ar your cheeks. 

“Gonna teach me a lesson, Professor? Have I been such an ignorant brat, needy to be put back in line. Punish me, Aeg. Teach me a good, hard lesson I won’t forget-”

Aegon releases his latched mouth from your throbbing, moist cunt, his lips glistening in the dim, cosy light. A familiar smirk strewed across his full face, one that you had gathered could only mean one thing… Mischief. 

As Aegon’s weight had marvelled, so did his strength. Inevitably, his mass was heavier against you, often finding yourself squirming beneath his bulk and the mattress, as he would fuck you from atop with vigour. His thick, fat cock stretching your walls beyond relief, as you could meekly feel yourself from below clenching around his stiff cock, with his round gut laying sprawled above your own. The pressure he exerted from within your folds, bulging inside and the pressure from outside was overwhelmingly insatiable, stimulating you to an aching climax like none before. 

Although, it also meant his once impressive stamina would now often exceed quickly, finding himself breathlessly huffing and puffing for more, Aegon remained insistent on continuing, with you eagerly taking the reins from above, as he would often lay himself comfortably down, pacing his rapid breath. Riding his cock was a pleasure, as he relished in watching you strenuously exert great efforts, like the obedient wife you were, keen to sate your husband’s appetite. Steadying yourself against his meaty flesh, often finding your small hands cupping and massaging at his now obviously, sensitive moobs. Not to forget on Aegon’s behalf, your tits were a glorious sight to see, enthusiastically bouncing above from the momentum of your quickening pace: especially after the birth, your breasts naturally remained somewhat swollen and plump, Aegon savouring your bodily changes just as much. 

Nonetheless, the sex peaked, and Aegon remained true to his word… He indeed taught you a valuable lesson that night. 

“Perhaps if I’ve fucked another child into you, that ought to keep you in check.” 

“So you’ve been married this entire time?” One of his pupils exclaimed, confusion plastered across her face, as Aegon nodded keenly. 

“Indeed, a very happy wife and little bub at home. With another on the way it seems, hence why I’ll be away next semester.” 

“Is that why some of our quiz papers came back with glitter and weird little scribbles?” 

Arms remained tightly folded, Aegon defeatedly shaking his head in disbelief, as he helplessly chuckled at the illogical discourse at hand. His wide back-side remained leaning back on his desk, the wood creaking beneath his weight, yet he paid no mind. 

“Did you honestly think that was all me? And watch yourself Lannister, she’s learning pencil grip… She’s only 14 months, which is pretty impressive to me.” 

“But you’ve never mentioned them before?” Another pupil hastily questioned. 

“Never felt the need to. This is an academic lecture, not a TED Talk. And besides, did no one seriously not notice this?” Aegon exasperated, flashing his left ring finger, where a bulky, gold band wrapped around his thick digit. 

The silence that fell the room was palpable: a few of Aegon’s avid fanatics, awkwardly attempting to pull away their filled tupperware containers, back into their bags or laps, in a poor attempt to hide their shame. 

“Well I for one, would like to congratulate you Sir.” 

“Nice save Lannister. Now can we actually get back to the lesson or any more questions I need to clear?” 

“B-But you accepted our gifts? The cookies, and the-” One of the few Baratheon sisters that attended Aegon’s classes, stuttered, the colour in her face blush pink, yet her eyes saddened and watery, yet no tears fell. 

“Who am I to deny my appetite from a little snack? And besides, what a waste it would be. I presume you ladies just wanted me to bump up your grades, yes?” 

Each girl in the same exact front row that they’d been occupying the entire semester, began to nod in poor unison, not daring to venture not interrogate Aegon further, as his look now remained stern. 

The single, thunderous applaud echoed across the room, as he clapped his large hands together, excited to carry on with the lesson. The subtle sounds of pages opening, and pencils clicking, as Aegon began to write across the board, he felt a burden lift off his shoulders. The clarity was a relief, and the fact that he had a loving family awaiting for his arrival was his greatest achievement yet. Spoiled with a bliss life, thanks to you, his dotting, devoted wife, there was nothing that could tempt him astray otherwise.  

general taglist - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @rafesbarbiegirl @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylas-the-grim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider

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credit for header - @/saradika

[thebeethathums]

Observers - 57

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

It took a considerable amount of will power for you not to touch anything and everything when the three of you arrived at the crime scene: the backstage of a West End theater. There were costumes, props, and sets everywhere and you were quick to fall into your curious observation mode, slowing your pace considerably to take it all in. You were just about to wander off towards a very interesting looking dress covered with sequins on a rack across the way when Sherlock sharply stated, “Hand.” 

You froze and blinked at him in confusion, “What?” “Give me your hand,” he demanded impatiently and you pursed your lips at him, “Why should I?” He rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand before you could pull away, John looking on in interested amusement, “Because I can’t have you wandering off like I know you were just about to. Now come on.” Dragging your feet so that he had to tug you the rest of the way to your destination, you whined, “I’m not a child, Sherlock. I would have caught up.” Sherlock ignored you and you pouted at John, who just shook his head and chuckled, following after the two of you, “It’s for your own good, Squeak. Remember what happened last time you wandered off at a crime scene?” 

You pulled a face but picked up your feet as you grumbled, “Fine,” and took the opportunity to lace your fingers with Sherlock’s, an action that turned John’s expression to a scowl. The two of you stepped into the dressing room where the body was, Lestrade raising an eyebrow at your connected state before you used your free hand to tug on Sherlock’s sleeve, looking up at him, “Can I look around now? I highly doubt there’s some thug lurking with all of Lestrade’s team about and I promise I’ll stay in this room.”  

Giving you a look that said you’d better or there would be consequences, he set your hand free and you skirted around the body to examine something that had caught your eye on the other side of the room, leaving Sherlock his space to look at the body. Lestrade stepped over next to John, nodding in your direction, “Any idea what’s going on there?” “Yes and no,” John sighed, “There’s some sort of relationship between them but I don’t think even they know what it is.” “And you’re okay with-“ “John,” Sherlock interjected in a demanding tone and John shrugged at Lestrade before going to see what he wanted. He soon saw why Sherlock had called him, crouching down next to the body to get a better look at the few areas of skin that had been removed, “This was done postmortem… there’s not enough blood otherwise and I don’t think the body has been moved. Why would somebody take his skin?” “Is it possible we’ve got a Hannibal?” you wondered aloud and John gave you a quizzical look, “A what?” “Hannibal Lecter? You know... Hannibal the Cannibal. Skin is a delicacy in some cultures.” Your brother looked a bit perturbed, glancing back at the body with a new sense of disgust, and Sherlock shook his head, “A cannibal wouldn’t leave the rest of the body… It’s more likely that it was for some sort of experiment. I sometimes use skin in my work.” You shrugged, “The locations of the wounds are where the skin is likely to be most tender and not toughened by the elements… who’s to say cannibals can’t be picky eaters? It was just a thought.” Sherlock considered this as you turned to Lestrade who was standing with his mouth a little agape at the conversation he’d just witnessed, “Did your team remove anything from this room before we got here?” Lestrade shook his head, “No. We left everything as is.” Sherlock stood, fixing his usual demanding gaze on you, “What do you see?” You pursed your lips, “It might be nothing…” “It’s never nothing, (F/n).” John assured, joining the three of you, and you continued, “He seems like a proud man, a little narcissistic but what actor isn’t, and extremely organized, likely a mental tick or mild OCD, yet there is a piece of his costume missing- the hat. I don’t think it was simply misplaced- he wouldn’t have allowed that- but there’s a chance that it needed repair or alteration and is being kept elsewhere in the theater. I didn’t see it in the immediate area when we walked in but I also didn’t get a chance to explore further.” “The killer could have taken it as a souvenir,” John offered and Sherlock flatly demanded, “Make sure it isn’t here, Lestrade. I need to speak with his castmates,” and strode out. You and John followed him out to find the other main cast members- a tall ranting man, a weeping woman with long auburn locks, and a short distraught looking teenage boy. Sherlock paused, formulating a plan as you let out a soft groan, “I hate actors. So hard to get an accurate read.” You stepped up beside him, letting your eyes take in all that you could see from the three before giving a smirk and shaking your head, “Sherlock-” “I see it. You take him, I’ll take her,” he hummed, stalking off towards them and leaving you to explain to John as you nodded toward the kid, “Just be sympathetic.” Sherlock ‘accidentally’ knocked over a rack of costumes into a table with props right next to the ranting man, the sound of shattering ceramic resounding in the air as a number of props clattered to the floor. The result was instantaneous with the actor ceasing his rant to screech at Sherlock about respect for the theater and his profession and so on. You were quick to sweep in between the two of them grabbing Sherlock’s ear and yanking him down to you as growled, “Didn’t I tell you to keep your clumsy feet away from anything that could be broken? These people work for hours on end to create magic night after night. I expect you to respect them and their tools… Apologize.” “Save it. The damage is already done,” the tall actor hissed, storming off in tiff to yell at someone to fix it, and Sherlock gave you a discreet smirk before you turned to follow him, playing the understanding fan as you called apologies after him. John approached Sherlock, who was rubbing his ear with a dejected look on his face, “She can get a little passionate about things like this- the artistic side you know… Are you alright?” The weeping woman interrupted before Sherlock could answer, revealing an American accent, “I’m sorry that jerk got you in trouble with her… He takes everything too seriously. It’s not like the show can go on without our departed castmate anyways.” “It’s quite alright,” Sherlock hurried, playing up his British accent as he rummaged through his pockets with very convincing mock nervousness to find a tissue to offer her, “That’s a terrible shame. I’m sure you would have stolen the stage, Miss…” “Grommer. Natalie Grommer,” she supplied in a purr, taking it from him as her demeanor changed, the fake tears immediately disappearing. “The stage lights would have loved those cheekbones of yours,” she hummed as she extended a hand to him, which he took, leaning to press a kiss to her knuckles as she giggled, “And a gentleman to boot.” A slightly astounded John watched as Sherlock escorted her to a quieter corner and the stunned look on his face drew the attention of the teen just like you’d planned, “I sorry about them… they’re really good at their jobs but they don’t really care about the murder. They’re just peeved that the show is off now that we’re a cast member short.” “And you?” John asked, giving the boy a sympathetic smile, finally understanding what you’d meant, “Do you care?” The boy’s lip trembled as he nodded, “He was my friend…” The three of you talked to your respective actors for a moment until you returned to rescue Sherlock from the very handsy Natalie with a snapped, “Holmes!” that gave John an excuse to leave his conversation with the teen. They fell into step next to you as you stalked out and John asked, “Where are we going exactly?” “Home,” you and Sherlock said in sync and you rubbed your temple with a soft sigh as you expanded, “It wasn’t any of them, though that was fairly obvious from the start. We just had to be sure… actors can be emotionally tricky.” Sherlock snorted, “They claim to be masters of deception yet they so easily believed us. Idiots,” and then launched into his deductions, “It was someone he knew from the lack of struggle. Killer has a knowledge of and access to some sort of fast-acting poison, likely administered with a needle, as well as skill with a scalpel. With the missing hat, it is likely that they are either a practiced methodical killer or have some sort of emotional connection to the victim. Not family. He has no living family. Possibly a partner. He’s gay. Closet case…” He continued but dropped to a mumble as the three of you slid into a cab and you leaned against John with a soft yawn as he huffed, “How do you do that?” “Do what, Johnny?” “Know what he’s thinking.” You chuckled, “I have no idea what he’s thinking, John. I just assume he sees what I see and then read his face. If anything he knows what I’m thinking or maybe we just think similarly in certain situations… I don’t know. Does it matter?” “I suppose not,” he murmured, winding an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss against your temple as you snuggled into his side sleepily. Seeing the two of you in action and finally noticing your ability to communicate by just looking at each other, got John wondering about your relationship. He thought about it for a moment, considering that maybe the two of you were more suited for each other than he’d originally determined, before resting his cheek on your head as he fought off a headache.

TAGS <3:

@team-free-sherlock @multifandom-ramblings @madshelily @severusminerva @yes-but-theyre-my-dorks @smitemewiththysherlock @not-fandom-addicted @unknownwonder @deducingdevil @aviien @mrsfrankensteinsworld @lolamurphy @bakerstreethound @musical-doll-x @protectteamfreewill @delightful-pirate @lilcutekittykat @broke-and-overwhelmed @adri1ii @turtle-at-the-disco @fanfictionsilove @chasedbyhowlingwolves @thorkyrie-rights

[ko-fanatic]

Horrifying Martyrdom

For day two of @kyokao-week: Horror/Mystery 

Rating: Mature

Pairing: KyoKao

Summary: It was no secret that Kyoya was sick. His thin frame attested it, so pale and tired, and what ghoul is those things if not sick or injured? It's fair to say that Kaoru didn't expect this...

Warning: Anorexia, auto-cannibalism, blood and gore, eye trauma, guro kink

A/N: While this would probably be okay to read as a stand-alone, it's probably best if you go and read my other fic, Blue Blood Tastes the Same, first. 

Kaoru wasn’t sure what led up to this.

Well, that was a lie. He knew full well, but the issue was that he hated to think about it; hated knowing that Kyoya was so thin and delicate for a reason. Because what ghoul starves themself? It doesn’t make sense, especially for those in the position they were. If they chose, they didn’t have to hunt or see the poor unfortunate who’d be that night’s dinner. They could be as removed from it all as they wanted and didn’t have to worry about anything other than eating what was provided.

But there had always been something off about the Ootori boys, according to the gossips who whispered amongst their friends. Picky eaters, strange habits, small meals. A delicate constitution. Kyoya was by far the worst, but the story always changed when he was asked. He didn’t like others watching him eat, he felt like his favourite cuts would cause something of a stir (that got a laugh, at least), he just wasn’t hungry, he was sick.

Yoshio seemed to stick to the excuse that his son was ill, the older ladies of their standing – the ones who weren’t ghouls – cooing over him and treating him like a china doll. In a sense, standing outside the bathroom door now, Kyoya having locked himself inside… The man wasn’t wrong. But he had a feeling, an instinctual pull at his gut, that told him it wasn’t the whole truth.

His knuckles rapped lightly against the door, hoping Kyoya would at least acknowledge him despite the gagging and stuttering breaths he could hear within. He saw Kyoya’s eyes briefly as he rushed into the restroom; wide, beautiful, bleeding into stunning black and crimson as he ran.

“Are you alright in there?” He inquired, pressing up against the solid wood as if this were some sort of video game, and he could magically glitch through to the other side.

He swore he could hear gasps of pain added to the mix, hissed through gritted teeth, and it scared him. Should he call Yoshio? One of Kyoya’s brothers? They were doctors, after all, and probably knew what the hell was going on with him. He was only supposed to be there to discuss the new menu, but that was when things took a turn for the worst and now –

Oh. Oh God, that couldn’t be it, could it? All that talk of food, flavours, textures… Something hollowed in the pit of his abdomen, some organs falling into the wrong places and twisting into knots. Especially when he only heard Kyoya’s unsteady breathing grow harder. More laboured. He futilely grabbed the door handle, twisting and hoping and wishing that it would unlock and put his mind more at ease, but it obviously didn’t.

“Don’t come in…” Came a quiet voice – a defeated plea – from beyond the door. It was broken, but calmer. Not quite as forced, but it was still tinged with the aftershocks of desperation and pain –

And it made his heart break, if just a little bit. Or a lot, if he was honest with himself. The manager and chef of a ghoul restaurant, it almost made him laugh. Cheesy. But the situation called for much more tact than that.

“I have to Kyoya,” He began, voice as soft as cotton in hopes of softening the next words from his lips, “I’m worried. Can you let me in?”

“You don’t want to see,” The reply came, quiet but all too rushed, “I’ll be fine. I’m a ghoul, remember? It’ll be o –”

“With some kind of illness no one else seems to know about,” He argued, forehead falling against the door, “I… I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t just hum ‘see you later’ and walk out the door like that. At least let me make sure… for my own sake, at least…”

There was a silence. It seemed to stretch on for eternity, Kaoru debating what the best course of action would be if he was ignored. He could kick the door in, but he could easily hurt Kyoya if he did that, and he didn’t want to make things worse than they were.

“… It’s ugly…”

Kaoru almost laughed at that, out of relief at hearing Kyoya’s voice more than anything. “That’s not going to bother me,” He promised, “Besides, as if someone like you could ever be anything less than beautiful.”

Was that too much? Probably. However, rather than overthinking that little (or, not so little) indulgence into his crush, he was greeted with the lock clicking off. Kyoya didn’t open the door, but at least he granted Kaoru access, and he took advantage before the other boy could change his mind.

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

The first thing he found was the previously white tile stained almost completely red. It was the first thing that drew his eye, and the sense of calm he’d gained dissipated instantly. How could anyone, especially a person as frail as Kyoya, bleed so much.

There he was, drenched in his own blood and curled into the corner of the room. The sight was something that should have disgusted him, but he only felt sorry for the broken boy, with some inappropriate lust thrown into the mix for an extra layer of wrong. One red and black eye stared back, the other replaced with a grotesque, delicious injury.

“K-Kyoya…” He gasped, rushing in and nearly crashing to his knees beside the other boy. One beautiful eye was teary and raw around Kyoya’s long lashes, the other gouged out and missing. He could see the white bone of the eye socket, muscle tissue and lipids almost seeming to bubble inside; his body trying and failing to heal itself. It wasn’t dark or cavernous – not what you’d immediately think – and he had to will his own eyes to stay hazel, “What happened to your eye?”

He placed his hand on Kyoya’s trembling, bony shoulder; scapula protruding beneath his hand like wings attempting to sprout and escape his thin flesh. Kyoya Ootori, crying his one eye out on the bathroom floor. Despite his frail appearance, he still had a lot of dignity, so he doubted anyone would truly believe this unless they were witnessing it for themselves.

“I ate it.”

The admission was so quiet, steeped in shame. Because even fewer ghouls eat themselves.

“I was just so hungry, I couldn’t stop myself,” He laughed, high and bitter and jarring, causing Kaoru to flinch, “I hate eating, but I was starving and it tasted so good. Eyes are so delicious, letting them burst on your tongue and slip down your throat… feels amazing. But it’s okay, I’m in control again, I’m not some sort of uncontrollable beast like she was –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Kaoru cut in, disturbed by his senpai’s almost manic ranting, “You don’t like eating? Is that… all this is? Kyoya, why? Can’t you see what you’re doing to yourself –”

“Of course, but I don’t care!” Kyoya snapped, “I can’t be a binger. It’s proof that I have the self-control she didn’t! I’m a monster, we’re monsters, but at least I’m trying!”

“Who… who are you even talking about?” Kaoru had to restart that sentence, something indignant at the thought of being called a monster by a fellow ghoul, but he forced the irrational emotion from him. Kyoya called himself a monster, first and foremost, and it wouldn’t help to get angry. If anything, that would just discourage Kyoya telling him the truth about all this.

As he calmed, Kyoya lost the fight he’d clawed back, his remaining eyelid looking heavy and his shoulders slack. “You must know… Everyone knows. I can see it when they look at me. They’re waiting for me to gorge myself like my mother did…”

Oh. He should have known.

Really, he couldn’t say the Hitachiins really gave a shit about what Kyoya’s mother did, because she wasn’t that important. She was the disgrace you don’t mention if you’re polite. His own mother thought that lording her binge eating around as if that somehow made her better than everyone else was… distasteful. However, it’s not like they talked about it. Kaoru had honestly half-forgotten, only remembering when Kyoya said that. The reason why he didn’t eat. Kaoru would be lying if he said his heart didn’t break for this small, fragile boy who hid behind a powerful aura and iron will.

Kyoya was strong, and this didn’t change that. For a ghoul to pointedly ignore their hunger for as long as Kyoya did takes willpower. It’s painful, maddening, and this had been Kyoya’s life for years.

“What does it matter if they think that?” He inquired, shifting a little closer. He could feel the squelch of his blood-saturated trousers beneath his knees, but he didn’t particularly care. He touched their foreheads together, gazing into Kyoya’s remaining, pretty eye, “They don’t, but even so. It’s none of their business, and it’s more important to be healthy. You’re sick, Kyoya. Very sick.”

“We’re all sick,” He answered, and Kaoru was unsurprised. You can’t undo years of damage in a couple minutes, after all, even if that did kind of hurt.

He just nodded, standing to riffle through the cabinets. “Do you have a first aid kit in here?” He inquired, “Or at least some bandages?”

They’re in the small shelving unit beside the sink. Not that Kyoya’s room is at all dusty – but he expected more signs of stagnation within the supplies within the kit. A lotion or ointment out of date, perhaps. The issue is that it seems perfectly well-stocked, and while it does make sense for the son of a doctor, it makes him worry. If Kyoya took a bite out of himself today, it’s logical to think he’s done it before.

Instead of ruminating on that, he returns to his knees beside the boy, gently pressing a gauze pad to the empty eye socket and proceeding to carefully wrap the bandages around it. It seemed Kyoya was so desperate and reckless to eat anything that he also tore off his eyelid. Probably gulped it down with the rest, and he hates the arousal he can feel in his gut.

By the time he’s at the end of the bandage, Kyoya has thick layers of fabric obscuring his exposed eye socket and wrapped around his head, in the hopes of keeping it all in place. His black hair is sticking up over the white layers, and poking in between in places, and the image is somehow so adorable that he almost audibly coos. While there’s no way Kyoya can take him physically, he wouldn’t dare, if only because that would break whatever odd spell they’re currently under.

Instead, he slides an arm under Kyoya’s sharp knees and around those budding angel wings and lifts him in a princess carry. He’s so light – must be under a hundred pounds, surely, even at his height – and it’s worrying. The thin silver lining, however, is how Kyoya just nuzzles into the nape of his neck, arms looping around his shoulders.

He’ll get him some actual food soon, but for now, he places him down on that large, soft bed and snuggles up to Kyoya. He holds him like a porcelain doll, not wanting to bruise him, and pressed kisses to the skin behind the other boy’s ear until he hears the quiet snuffles and snores.

Then, he can rest. Nothing will change in a few hours, and they’ll be better prepared for the talk they have to have. But for now, he’ll sleep, curled up with his beautiful angel.

[aweebwrites]

Fins and Hooves

Warning: animal death, mentions of blood (nothing too gross)

________________

Zane watched, perched on his favorite resting point in the lake as Cole ran along the shore. Cole himself had made the resting point using his affinity for earth. It was a shallow bowl shaped rising in the water, close enough to the surface that he could sit or lay down comfortably and still be visible above water while being just deep enough to keep his tail and gills submerged. There were two similar ones to his left for Nya and Skylor whenever they decide to come over to his side of the lake but his was hand carved with beautiful patterns and colourful stones embedded along it by his thoughtful mate.

Said mate who looked majestic running along the shore line, sending water splashing when the the waves came in too close. His hair had grown out over the winter and he had Nya pull it in a ponytail. He wasn't just running for fun however. He insisted that he hunt today. He found land animals unique in taste and while he loved fish, he like a change in diet from time to time. So after mentioning that to the kelpie during their morning swim (the sudden change in the dynamics of the lake confused breeding fish and a few who were supposed to be heading further north to lay their eggs had done so here instead. They decided it was a good thing and frequently checked to see how the hatchlings are doing), he took it upon himself to hunt for his mate.

“What has Cole so busy?” Nya says, sliding up onto the rest next to him.

“He's hunting.” Zane informed her, resting his chin in his webbed hand. “I've never actually seen him do it so I thought I'd observe.” He says and Nya hummed.

“I'm surprised he finds any prey with those thundering hooves of his.” She snorts.

“I thought the same thing at first.” Zane says quietly, watching him turn at the start of the fjord filtering fresh sea water into their new home, eyes on the small woodland bracketing a third of their home, arrow drawn tightly in his bow. “But he's being loud on purpose. It spooks prey out of hiding and their panic would make them uncoordinated and easy to take down. He's managed to do this for a few but he rejected them it seems.” He says, a little confused on the last part.

“Cole goes all out for you, no matter what he does. Of course he'll be picky hunting for you.” Nya says with a grin, nudging him with her tail and he smiled a little, blushing at that. “Oh. Looks like he's chosen.” She says and Zane watcher in awe as Cole went stock still, eyes focused on his target.

He breathed out slowly and let his arrow fly, a wounded yelp sounding after. He then grinned, swinging the bow over his shoulder and trotted off into the woodland. He reappeared soon after with a deer over his hide, blood running from its throat.

“Strong man.” Nya says, wagging her brows and Zane laughed, splashing her with the icy water.

They both slipped off the rest and swam towards the shore coming up to the place where both warm and frigid waters mixed.

“Big one. I know Skylor would love a taste.” Nya commented as Cole slid the corpse off of him.

“Which reminds me. She and the others should be here any moment now. I should get extra for them. You know how Lloyd is with deer.” Cole says, kneeling to steal a kiss from his mate.

“I'll help. If I recall, Master Wu has a taste for fish as well.” Zane says with a smile, cupping Cole's cheek.

“What's with the secret huddle?” They all looked up as Jay circled overhead before landing. “Oh deer! Get it?” He says with a grin, and Nya splashing him as Zane chuckled.

“Jokes aside, Lloyd is actually just starting to change his scales. He'll be here for a while before he has to leave for the Spirit Coves. Dragon growth spurt and all.” Kai says, hovering next to them.

Just then, a loud thud sounded and they saw a green dragon crain its head up and roar. It would have been intimidating if his roar hadn't cracked half way in. They were left laughing instead.

“You guys are jerks.” Lloyd huffed, crossing his front paws, before in a puff of green, he was his less scaly form.

In this form, he looked almost human if his slitted green eyes, pointed ears, peaking fangs, folded wings and scaled tail wasn't enough of a give away. Considering that he was part dragon, part Oni (demon) and human all in one, he leaned more towards his dragon heritage unlike his demonic father. Speaking of.

“Did Master Garmadon get your message Master Wu?” Zane asked the white dragon as he shifted into a similar state as his nephew.

“Yes. He should be back shortly after Lloyd returns from the Spirit Coves. The venom of the Great Devourer's bite may not be able to injure him but the effects have to be dealt with gently.” Wu says and Lloyd hung his head.

“Cheer up squirt. Your dad will be fine. He's tough, remember?” Cole says, ruffling his hair, earning a hiss and a swipe of claws in the direction of where his hand was. “Tell you what, how about we hunt you something to eat. The deer have wandered pretty close by…” He says, swinging Lloyd up on his hide and he beamed, near drooling at the mention of his favourite meal.

“Hey! How comes he gets to ride on your back!” Jay protested, zapping Jim for good measure.

“Ow! That's why you cluck!” Cole yelled and Zane laughed.

_____________________

“Hey Skylor! Where have you been?” Kai asked once she walked up to where everyone was eating on the shore outside.

“Molting. I hate it but at least it all goes one time.” She shrugged then walked over to Nya, leaning down and kissing her.

“I kept it safe like you asked.” Nya says, gesturing to her seal skin she wrapped around her neck.

“Great. Hold onto it for a while longer, would you?” She asked, sitting next to her and Nya nodded with a smile, returning to her meal, offering her some.

Zane on the other hand wasn't sure of what to do. The only ones he's eaten in front of was Nya, Skylor and Cole after a lot of reassuring. He feared his mouth may be unsettling for some.

“Aren't you hungry Zane?” Master Wu asked but before he could use that as an excuse, his stomach growled.

Loudly.

“Ha! Zane's stomach is more intimidating than you!” Jay grinned at Lloyd who glared at the harpy before plucking a feather, making him yelp.

“Serves you right.” Kai smirked at his mate as he whined into his feathers.

“Zane?” Cole's soft, worried voice called and he looked up at his mate before looking away.

“I… The way I eat is-”

“That's what this is all about?” He looked up at Cole, confused. “Snowflake, no-one minds or even cares how you eat.” Cole says, holding onto his webbed hand.

“Oh. Cold water mers have a very flexible jaw for the very big prey that live there.” Master Wu explained to a confused Lloyd.

“Ok. But what does that have to do with not wanting to eat? I'm pretty sure I can open my mouth wider than yours.” Lloyd pointed out before shifting and opened his mouth wide and took a big bite out of the deer he hunted all by himself.

“You might not have noticed but I don't chew. I eat my meals whole.” Skylor pointed out before demonstrating by swallowing down a large fish.

“I think Jay and I are the only ones who have small mouths but that doesn't stop Jay from getting food even on his tail feathers.” Kai says pointedly, to the messy eater who looked at him sheepishly, scales in his hair.

"The fangs are still new so my way of eating is a little different too." Cole says, nudging him gently and he smiled a little.

“There’s no such thing as normal. Everyone is unique in habits and more. Here, we are all family and we accept each other, flaws and all.” Master Wu says and Zane looked around at his strange pod before smiling.

“Plus, it'll be a shame for that deer to go to waste…” Lloyd says, licking his maw.

“It would be, wouldn't it?” Zane says, looking down at the untouched deer Cole had hunted and even skinned, just for him.

His stomach rumbled once more and he looked to Cole who nodded. He then sighed, letting go of insecurity. They watched in awe as he opened his mouth, revealing blue muscles in his cheeks and a very blue mouth filled with sharp teeth and a long dark blue tongue before he struck into the upper thigh of his prey, teeth cutting through the flesh easily and breaking bone. The group all cheered for him and Cole grinned, proud of his mate.

The rest of their meal was uneventful but the happy aura never left. Zane's pod was a strange one indeed but he wouldn't trade them for anything.

_____________

(Idk what to call this Au so I just put the first thing that came to mind. Also, Lloyd! He looks like his kid self now but after his trip to the Spirit Coves, he'll look like current Lloyd but with more demonic features. That's another story. Also, Lloyd doesn't know Misako. She was a human and died before he hatched several years ago from natural causes (I made her lay an egg that took years to hatch >:3 I also gave Garmadon the chance to raise his son). Finally, Garmadad isn't fully evil. He killed the last of the Devourers for the protection of Ninjago but got bitten in the process (the bite is treatable in this au because no angst! {Or very little at least}). He's in the first realm getting treated by other Oni (they're not evil like in the series but they aren't particularly good either. They look after their own and the Omega is fond of both him and Lloyd. He's super tsundere when confronted about Lloyd but he would high-key die for him. Same for Firstborne). Anyway, enough talking for now. I haven't slept yet... Weeb out!

[kiruuuuu]

Oneshot in which Blitz embarrasses himself. It’s based on this story which showed up on my dash a few days ago and I highly encourage a read, though it obviously contains spoilers for this :) - written for @magehir to trigger her second hand embarrassment ♥♥ (Rating M, humour, ~1.3k words)

.

“Elias, do you have some time?”

At the mention of his name, Blitz looks up from where he was previously occupied with demolishing the sandwich Rook shoved into his hands as soon as he noticed tomatoes on it – the young man being a picky eater definitely has its perks and already ensured Blitz wouldn’t go hungry despite lacking the time to organise his own lunch several times. Often enough, in fact, that he’s been contemplating whether Rook really dislikes this many vegetables or whether he simply needs an excuse to guarantee that Blitz doesn’t forget to eat. “I’ng eaking”, he mumbles a response directed at Jäger who’s hovering in the doorway to the canteen.

“Ah sure, don’t let me interrupt you. I can wait until you’re done.” He strolls in and joins the German-French table at which IQ and Twitch are wholly engrossed as much in their technical babble as in each other, leaving Doc, Rook and Blitz to their meals. While he finishes up the really quite excellent sandwich, Jäger jokes with Doc and even manages to coax out a smile out of the vaguely stressed-looking Frenchman, earning himself a grateful look from Rook who’s been attempting the same yet largely failed.

Eventually, Blitz downs his bottle of water and turns to his teammate expectantly. “Alright. What is it?”

Jäger looks momentarily confused before he remembers that he was the one seeking out the other German. “Oh! Yes. I wanted to know whether you could lend a helping hand to managing the recruits. I would, but I genuinely don’t want to.”

Blitz snorts – though he can’t say he blames Jäger for the sentiment, this year’s batch are far from the sharpest tools in the shed, yet they’re aptly described as tools nonetheless. The mechanic especially has no patience for anyone who doesn’t immediately understand (or rather mind reads) his quick half-explanations. Unfortunately, nearly everyone in Rainbow falls under this category and the recruits even more. Blitz vividly remembers Jäger’s presentation of his magpies which consisted of one extremely long as well as extremely specific explanation no one even had a chance to comprehend, before he pulled the pin and threw a live grenade into the small group of hopeful soon-to-be operators for a demonstration. Since none of them realised the ADS would save their lives, one started screaming, another jumped into a third recruit’s arms and a fourth almost fainted. Jäger wisely kept his distance after that.

“Let’s go then”, Blitz agrees and they get up together, casually make their way to the training grounds in Hereford. “Who’s in charge of them at the moment?”

“Dom”, comes the curt answer and Blitz winces in sympathy. Where Jäger has no patience for (perceived) incompetence, Bandit punishes according to boringness. He prides himself with his creativity and cunning and thus expects no less from their fledglings – or so he says. Blitz is convinced it’s nothing more than an excuse to torture them with practical jokes and make them afraid to sleep at night.

Speaking of which, even at this distance, Blitz can hear the first screams. Not very promising. “How many have cried so far?”

“Today? Two”, Jäger replies nonchalantly, quite obviously impervious to the outcries of pain echoing oddly over the grounds, “out of five. A third had to be persuaded to come out of the bathroom after he locked himself in. Dom’s having the time of his life.”

Apparently so, judging by the fact that the yells have not subsided, quite the opposite. “Which is probably why you asked me to help.”

The closer they get, the louder the wails. Jäger shrugs. “You don’t have anything important to do today and Mike’s gonna be furious if Dom injures any of them to the point where they can’t train anymore. I think it’s better if you keep an eye on him.”

Dear Lord, what is he doing to this poor recruit? Blitz grows increasingly concerned and Jäger’s words do nothing to appease him. “The hell is he doing? Testing interrogation techniques?”

Even though that’s exactly what it sounds like, Jäger shakes his head, indifferent. “Just some field training. To be honest, he’s probably gonna be relatively pleasant for the rest of the day so he can crank it up tomorrow again, so if you find something better to do, rather do it today.”

They’re entering the building now, the howling worryingly loud at this point and crassly at odds with Jäger’s relaxed attitude – Blitz has noticed his friend’s lack of empathy for anyone he thinks a moron, though he wouldn’t have guessed him this unconcerned about physical violence this harsh. There’s faint skin on skin slapping now, indicating Bandit is seriously beating someone up and Blitz inadvertently speeds up his steps to put an end to this sooner rather than later.

“It’s over here”, Jäger leads them to one of the rooms, the horrifying noises merely growing in volume the closer they get, and reaching distressing levels right as they step through the door.

Yet Blitz does not expect to be facing this.

It’s almost comical and reminds him of primary school: the recruits sitting in a half circle in front of Bandit who’s perched on a chair, seemingly content in merely recounting a story judging by everyone’s rapt expressions. There’s no abuse going on, nothing to explain the terrible noises.

Which… still haven’t ceased, mystifyingly enough.

Literally everyone is staring at the two newcomers now, Bandit with a deep frown probably due to the interruption and the recruits wholly bewildered for some reason. Blitz is still struggling to process what’s going on when Bandit pats down his pockets and murmurs: “It’s not mine this time.”

The small gesture is what does him in. Blitz’ eyes widen in utter panic, the shock so sudden that his knees go weak and his fingers fumble upon desperately clawing at his back pocket, nearly dropping his phone and yes, it’s his, though he has absolutely no clue how this happened. Regardless, the screen quite unambiguously shows two muscled guys going at it with enviable enthusiasm while producing a neverending series of throaty and unrestrained noises and Blitz wants to sink into the ground, evaporate, cease to exist this instant. Frantically, he stabs his phone with a fingertip until not only the sound is turned off but also the display yet the following silence is almost worse. His cheeks are on fire.

The recruits are still staring, visibly uncomfortable, while Bandit’s lips have stretched into the widest, meanest and most delighted grin Blitz has ever seen in his entire life.

Next to him, Jäger casually comments: “Nice cock.”

He wants to fucking die. “I gotta go”, he addresses no one in particular and turns on his heel, strides down the corridor and tries to shut out Bandit’s unapologetic hyena laugh trailing after him: gleeful and a touch hysteric. He almost misses the handle on the way out yet barely manages not to run into the door head first.

A few seconds later, Jäger has caught up with him, curiously watching him from the side. “You know that he’s gonna teach them phrases to embarrass you in German now, right?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it”, Blitz moans into his hands and hides his bright red face in shame.

“Also that looked fucking hot. Did you wank to it earlier?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, can you please just -”

“I’m just saying. Because if you did, then you should probably agree to a date with Julien.”

Blitz momentarily forgets about his mortification and turns to Jäger, aghast. He’s been Rook’s most vocal advocate, urging Blitz to give him a chance. “Are you… are you going to tell him if I don’t?”

And Jäger’s smirk is answer enough.