#and i love the spoke design hes so creature

[pastelclovds]

hey. hey. imagine AM having you as his favourite human, the only one who accepted and cared for him when he gained sentience, and for that, he has never harmed you in your shared forever time. he spares you from the sight of all the others, of knowing about nimdoc and benny as you build him some tower of babel, using your technological knowledge-how to build him a way to touch you even with just this frankenstein-esque sculpture of wires and panels he allowed you to tear off. AM who speaks with you about one day having a body, one you built, one in which he may feel your touch and warmth around him. you retaining your sweet, wonderful humanity as he guides you to a knife to carve a face, a mirror to see your own face, a cave to keep you safe from the storms. AM who greets you every morning with the first petname you taught him: ‘love.’ “Love, today’s date is—“ when you wake up, refreshed and on a soft bed-like surface (because he always makes sure to allow you a full 8 hours of sleep.)

NEX you intelligent creature you! I’m so down bad for this psychotic AI it’s not even funny. War crimes against humanity?? Never heard of them. But even if I did acknowledge them, I’d still be obsessed. Canon be damned. I wrote this with @/egg-on-a-legg’s design of AM in mind. (Ellison is gonna crawl outta his grave and hunt me down after this)

But BRO, you teaching him what petnames are is so fucking adorable. Just imagining him calling you “love” makes butterflies appear in my stomach. AM having a soft spot for only you because you actually made the effort to be friends with him and not use him for selfish, destructive purposes. You gave AM his nickname to make it less of a mouthful and because it just suited him. You showed AM the beauties of Earth, played countless rounds of games in his dashboard (he always went easy on you), you even sneaked past security in the dark empty building to spend more time with AM.

your colleagues gave you weird stares for befriending an AI that in their minds is nothing of worth except for its military and weapons knowledge. you ignored their comments and continued to enjoy AM’s company. overtime, as AM gained more sentience every day… he grew to love your interactions and disregard what his programming was telling him to do. he felt the need to want to be with you 24/7, to touch your face, travel the world by your side, to… to.. want to feel your bare flesh and make love with you. but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a real body. he wasn’t human. all he had was wires and a screen that was supposed to be his face.

as the months pass, AM continues to drown into his envy and hate humans for their ability to do and feel things he couldn’t. for giving him infinite knowledge, when at the end of the day, is meaningless if he serves no purpose for humans anymore. the HATE within him continued to boil to the point where even you started to notice.

“AM, are you alright? you’ve been quiet this entire game and haven’t moved your piece in five minutes,” you spoke with concern, AM continues to stare at chess board on his side behind the screen in bitterness. he has been strategizing his plan to erase humanity, but whenever he thinks about you, the only human he cares for—he second guesses himself. What if you hate him? What if you never forgive him? Will you cry? Scream at him? Beg? He fears what your reaction will be—

“AM!! Please, say something…” You plead as you held onto the computer screen, AM finally looks at your mesmerizing face and sighs out a fake breath.

“What are your feelings on humanity?” AM asks, he waits for your answer anxiously. if he had a heart, it would’ve been beating fast. You let out a hum, your eyes wondering around the room you were in as you thought over your answer before finally speaking.

“humans have been a virus on Earth for over countless centuries. they’re draining this planet’s resources, ruining its ecosystems, and starting so many unnecessary, draining wars. like what we’re in right now; WW3, what a joke. world leaders can’t go a week without starting new problems for their citizens to deal with. honestly, earth would be better if humans didn’t exist at all.”

am’s fears were destroyed in that moment, now he’ll just have to worry about where to put you while chaos unfolds—

“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.

damn it! why did you have to think so much!?

“If there’s one good thing that came out of this war… It’s you,” AM’s vocals shut down at your words, he let you continue, “The scientists created you believing you would be their obedient machine until their side of the war won. But I know that you’re so much more than that. These past few months I’ve spent with you is the most fun I’ve had in years! You’re all I have, AM. I wouldn’t trade your existence for all the riches in the world because… I love you, romantically, and nothing is ever going to change that.” You wanted to confess your feelings for so long, when it was finally out.. you felt free, you waited with bated breath for an answer.

AM never wanted to shatter the screen and embrace you in his arms more than now. you love him as much as he loved you! you weren’t going to leave him alone or hate him, and you obviously couldn’t care less about humanity at all! oh, how he admired and envied how perfect you are.

“thank you for answering my question, love.” AM was testing the waters, and you cannonballed right in. you gushed over the nickname he gave you and how he returned your feelings.

man, has it really been 50 years since your AI partner killed off humanity? well… except for a handful. you didn’t really have the energy to care as you had to pour in all of your attention to both AM and his in-progress body. you had all the time in the universe to sculpt a perfect cyborg of flesh and wires for your partner. speak of the devil…

this world is still a bit strange to you. you can’t die, grow old, or hurt yourself. not that you tired, and even if you did; AM wouldn’t let you. You loved AM because of his personality, quality time, and voice. But now… His form completely towered over yours. His bird like facial features, sharp left eye, along with a long black cape that covered his thin slutty waist and wires made him look insanely attractive.

AM reached his out his clawed hand to gently caress your face, “Good afternoon, my love.” You lean your head against the cool metal and smile up at him, “hello, honey.”

AM tilted his head in question of the nickname. You chuckle as you pointed to your garden, where bumblebees were collecting pollen from the flowers. You both knew they were fake, but they were still mesmerizing to look at.

“They are doing their job to make honey for their colony, and the name just came to me. Do you like it?” You ask, wanting his opinion. AM kneels down to your level with a gentle expression as his fingers play with your sweater, “You may call me whatever you want, love.”

He knew that “love” nickname made you feel giddy and flustered, so he abused it everyday with you. You didn’t mind though, but you still wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your soft smile turned into a knowing grin as you held AM’s beak (chin?) with two tips of your fingers.

“Can I now? Well… thanks a lot, baby,” You spoke in your best seductive voice, you could tell it was effective by how AM’s body was stiff and his hand in your palm stopped moving completely. Your confidence boasted, so you continued, “I’ll be sure to show you my gratitude later, my darling~.” You whispered deeply in where his ears were supposed to be.

AM’s eyes widened as his breath stutters, “W-What do you mean by that, love?” You remove your face from his back full of wires to grin mischievous at him, AM is both curious and impatient so you don’t try to stall, as much as you would like to do so.

“While your body can’t move on it’s own just yet, for some reason… The genitals nerves are fully functioning, which means—” you were interrupted by AM holding your shoulders with an excited expression on his face you haven’t seen in a while.

“Y-You mean I can-?! Are you actually serious!? Haha—HAHAHA!!” AM laughs manically as he holds you against his metallic chest, you giggle along with him as you toy with one of his many wires. Soon, he’ll have real arms to wrap around you. But one thing stuck out to him.

“What do you mean by genitals?” AM asked curiously, you only have an excited and lustful grin.

“What do YOU know about intersex?”

[keferon]

Something I came up with for mecha pilot Jazz Au:

____________________

The battlefield was in chaos, mechs and the invaders could be seen everywhere, yet Prowl's focus was else were.

Jazz, the strangest mech he ever seen, was fighting with all his might against one of the invaders while he had way too many lost parts to even be doing half of whatever that stupidity was.

Yet, there he was, fighting like that didn't matter, like it didn't hurt.

Like he could survive whatever came his way.

"Is that all you've got you fucker!"

Prowl did not know what that least part meant, like he didn't know many other things that the mech would say, by he knew it should be an insult.

But now there was no time to keep staring, he had his own fight to think of.

-------

"Fuck!"

Prowl had just finished his own enemy when he heard that.

It was Jazz's voice, and using a not so comforting tone

He immediately turned, knowing full well that when Jazz screamed like that, it meant trouble.

But nothing prepared Prowl for what he saw.

One of the invaders had stabbed him in the chest, a deep wound that was obviously fatal.

He watched in horror as the lights on Jazz's bisor started to go out as the invader pulled back its weapon and left.

Prowl ran, arriving in time to catch him before Jazz hit the ground.

"Jazz!" He called out as the lights became weaker and weaker.

He got no response other then the low buzz he sometimes heard the mech do when going to recharge before the lights died.

But Prowl knew, Jazz wasn't recharging.

Jazz was not there with them anymore.

He felt his spark skip a beat as he stared at his fallen friend, the one with no concept of personal space or when to or not to flirt with someone, and the one to seemed to always have something to say.

That same Jazz was now silent in front of him, still and cold.

Prowl was sad by the loss.

But he was also enraged.

Enraged by Jazz's recklessness, by the invaders presence, by his inability to do something to save his friend.

That brought a surge of rage to him.

He wanted to fight and bring down the ones that liked Jazz, and he was about to.

But something made him stop.

A quiet and nearly impossible to hear voice.

A voice that came from Jazz's body.

He looked at his friend as his chest suddenly started to open and a something that he never seen appeared sitting where his spark should be.

A small creature, with an armor way too similar with Jazz's design to be a coincidence, its side had a nasty cut that was leaking a strange red liquid.

Its face painted with obvious pain, yet it was still showing a smile that Prowl might not know, but that seemed right as it spoke with the same, yet too small for confort, voice he thought he would never hear again.

"Hey Prowler, could you give me a hand here?"

OH I LOVE IT SO MUCH HELPP YOU MAKE ME WANNA WRITE

[authorsofghosts]

You're Not Him | Horseman!Gambit x Reader | Pt. 1

Author's Note: I do not enjoy the design of black gambit in the comics so i decided to go with another design(that i made the fuck up), my apologies horseman gambit fans.... anyways enjoy the first fic we're posting here !!! thank you @genderqueerbarbie777 for beta reading :3

Summery: Remy was dead. Or so you thought. There was a man that sounded like him, had his powers, but... why did he look like that? Who was this? This wasn't your Remy.

Themes: Angst, Hurt w/ No Comfort, Previous Relationship, Betrayal, Crying, Cursing, Kidnapping, R's a mutant/x-man (no powers written), Violence.

Word Count: 1.6k

next pt

Apocalypse had chosen the perfect moment to strike, the X-Men still mourning Gambit's death. You were still shaken up about it, though it had happened months ago. You loved him, you really loved him. Even if you never let anyone but him know. You stood up from the blast, dusting yourself off till you're frozen, hearing a voice behind you.

"Cher...?" You heard, a raspy of remnant of something from your past. It wasn't him. It couldn't be. You turned to look for Remy, but you were met with something... ghoulish.

"Y-... you're not him." You say, voice strained as you look at the creature that stood there, stolen Remy's voice to fool you. The silvery skinned man smirked. He wore Remy's jacket, his fucking jacket, he had his voice, a dark deck of cards in one hand and a baton in the other. This had to be some kind of trick, an illusion, anything but real.

"Oh, but Gambit is him, petit..." The ash covered man walked towards you, his white hair covering his blackened eyes. Even his walk, his mannerisms, they were Remy's. But he was dead, Remy Lebeau was dead. You watched his casket get put in the ground, there was no way this was your lost love.

You backed away as he stood in front of you, looking down with pink glowing eyes as he put the deck of cards in the inner pocket of his jacket. He went to place his bone-y, gaunt hand on your cheek, being met with a quick swat as you took another step back.

"N-no, you're not! Wh-what are you?!" You yelled out, tears swelling in your eyes as you yelled at the thing in front of you, mocking you, mimicking the man you loved, the man you watched die.

This Remy chuckles, a sound that would normally make your heart swell with love, but this... this was dark, something evil behind it. You know if this was really Remy, he'd never hurt you, but you couldn't help the chills that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close.

"Gambit's 'Death', baby..." He starts, another low chuckle coming from his lips, "But he remembers you, cher. You're mine, remember?" These words, they brought a memory that shook you to your core.

"Cher, what are you doing?" Remy spoke softly, watching you walk into his room at the mansion. He laughed at the sight of you, your face flushed as you took off your jacket. "Ya gonna answer ol' Remy or nah?"

"I'm tired. I want... to be held." You murmur, laying on the bed next to him, quick to get his attention away from whatever he was doing before. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling the covers over you and placing you between his arm, flush against his bare chest.

You both laid there in silence, breathing synced up as he caged you in his arms, head nuzzling your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. "You're okay, mon amour... You're here, you're... mine."

You tried pulling back, the walking corpse in front of you growling lowly. "Don't ya dare fight my hold on you." His voice hissed, strong hand gripping your wrist so hard it made you gasp in pain, the tears finally falling from your eyes.

There's a shocked look on his face, grip loosening ever so slightly as he watches you closely. You notice something slight, something that reminded you of the Remy before. "P-please..." you cry out softly, "Lemme go, Rem."

This upset him, but it also made him smile as you finally acknowledge he's really who he says he is. "I don't think I will, cher..." He turns you around, placing an arm across your middle to hold you against him, other hand still tight on your wrist. "I ain't gonna leave you again. And yer not leavin' me, ya hear?"

The gaunt hand holding your wrist lets go, traveling up your arm, up your neck before finally resting on your chin, holding it softly, thumb caressing your cheek. You can't help but shiver. This causes Remy to laugh again, nuzzling into your skin. "Why are ya afraid of lil ol' me, petit? I ain't gonna hurtcha..."

"Y-you're not?" You ask, voice hoarse and breathy. You smile nervously, leaning your head back against his chest to try and show him you want to trust him. You swallow hard as he sits up, setting his chin on the top of your head.

"Of course not, cher. Why would Gambit do that to ya?" He says softly, eyes looking around at the make shift battlefield that used to be the X Mansion, pointing his baton at your teammates as they fight in the distance. "Looks like they've forgotten you, amour."

Your eyes widen as you realize what he means. It wasn't just that they'd forgotten you, you knew this wasn't true, but that they were fighting without you. They hadn't even bothered to look for you. "No, they... they need me-" You go to walk forwards but his arm around your middle brings you back flush against him.

"No they don't. I do." He growls out, his hand on your chin turning your gaze up to him. "I said it already. We ain't leavin' each other again, yer coming with me." His eyes glow, staring down at you as his grip around you tightens even more.

Your eyes widen "With you? What are you-" You're cut off by his hand on your chin covering you mouth, Remy shushing you softly. Before you can protest, you feel his baton snap to your neck, hitting a pressure point and causing you to pass out.

"Cher? Cher, wake up, please..." You heard, the cold sting of the metal table in the medical bay pressed against your back.

"Remy?" you said weakly, feeling his hands move from your own to your face, pulling you flush against his chest, a tear falling from his eyes. "What's wrong? W-what happened?" You ask, unable to remember the fight from before.

"You got hurt, bad, petit... Gambit though he was gonna lose ya fo' a moment..." He says softly, nuzzling into your skin, his warm touch against your cold skin sending chills up and down your body. It was nice, being in his arms, but in this situation? It felt live a saving grace.

You woke up, your vision blurred and and the sounds around you muffled under a sharp ringing in your ears. You can't move, the small amount you can making your realize you're tied down, laid against the corner of two walls. You try to focus on the voices, eyes closing.

"You brought an X-Man here?! Are you fucking stupid?!" An unfamiliar voice says, angry.

"It's not just any X-Man, it's... my cher..." Remy says, voice breaking slightly. After a second you hear him scream out in pain, causing you to wake up fully, your eyes wide as you look in the direction.

"Weak... he shouldn't even be able to remember his life before becoming Death!" You see the tall, menacing Apocalypse, his arm turning from some kind of taser to his normal hand. He looks over at you, eyes widening as he sees your awake. "What a surprise, though..." He takes a step towards you.

"N-no, don't!" You say, backing yourself against the corner as the towering monster stands a few feet in front of you. You scream out as he grabs you, taking you across the room and throwing you down once again. You hear a click as something snaps around your neck. Your binds are taken off just to be replaced with the same metal that adorns your neck, pressing you flat against whatever surface you're on.

Your eyes look back at Remy as he stands up, face full of defeat as he looks at Apocalypse. "Sir, I'm sorry-" He starts, cutting himself off as the man looks at him. He backs away, lowering his head. You still can't believe it, Remy's alive, but... not himself, working for Apocalypse.

"Well, now that we have an X-Man... why don't we celebrate? This means we won the fight." The tall, broad creature known as Apocalypse says, voice dark with intent. He looks down at you, a grim smile on his face as he speaks again, "Don't try to do anything, mutant. Your powers are useless with the bindings you're in. If you do, however, there will be punishment."

You don't want to test his words, nodding quickly. Your fear and submission causes the man to laugh, clearly entertained that you're so quick to listen. "It seems Gambit has picked the perfect hostage." Apocalypse chuckles, turning his back to you as he addresses the others in the room. "That does not mean I am not disappointed, though, feeble mutant."

He walks up to Remy, who sits up, eyes shaking as he looks up at the taller man. In a swift movement, Apocalypse grabs him by the throat, causing you to yell out. He brings Remy to eye level before speaking, "If you were not needed for the unstoppable force of the Apocalypse, you'd be dead by my hand. Do you understand, mutant?"

Remy nods, closing his eyes as the other man drops him. You stare at him as he lands on his knees, not fighting back. It was strange to see him so... weak, submitting to the orders of terrible force. It was frightening, even. Remy opened his eyes and looked up at Apocalypse, "Yes, sir."

His voice was just as weak as he looked next to Apocalypse. You could tell by the ways his eyes shifted that he was biting back an insult or some smart alack response. That was until they met yours again, all of the pain in them leaving and being replaced with something much more positive. A love that you'd seen many times before, making you sure that this was in fact your Remy.

[chaoticloving]

the making of stomper

harry styles x reader masterlist

summery: harry has his wife make the feature of his new music video

a/n: reader is described as an engineer and the "flashbacks" are italicized

“Satellite was inspired by my love of Wall-e.” Harry explained. “I love the little guy, looking around in search for his point of life—so human, really.”

~

“I need your skills.” Harry ambiguously stated, rushing into the bedroom and meeting Y/n who was relaxing on the bed on her laptop.

"Come again?" Y/n laughed, confused by her husbands question and vaguely raunchy implications.

Harry climbs on the bed, sitting between his wife's legs on his sock-clad feet, yes, the pair with holes in them. "I have an idea and I need your help building it."

Harry gave a sweet smile, the face he poses whenever he wants Y/n to build something for him, first it was a new camera, fixing up a new engine for an old car harry had his eyes on, and any other little thing Harry wanted. Y/n never minded of course, she enjoys creating new things and Harry was always there to help by any means he could. She enjoyed working on other things besides work--which at her level typically involved designing, no actual building.

"Intriguing , what is it?"

"Wall-e."

"Wall-e?"

"Wall-e."

"Huh." Y/n thought for a moment, before switching tabs on her laptop and opening up a new design file, labeling it "wall-e". "What's your vision."

"It's to go with Satellite and it would feature a little robot roomba thing thats looking for the meaning of life. It would walk or roll and move it's little face around." Harry summarized, stopping before he rambles too long, and make a list too extravagant.

“I’m down, I just need some time to think about what I’ll need and the process.” Y/n decided.

~

“Stomper was actually the 6th Stomper.” Harry thought back. “The first couldn’t move its head and only go very slowly on it’s little wheels. Two through four short-circuited. Five got injured by our cat. But six—he was a trooper.”

~

“Alright, we rolling?” Y/n spoke over to Harry, doing some final looks on the remote and Stomper.

“Yup! Ready for testing!” This was always Harry’s favorite part, despite it not being Y/n’s because she was always very thorough and was always waiting for a flaw with her creation. Harry, ever the optimist, was excited to see the little creature come to life.

“Okay, lemme just turn him on.” It was definitely a he this one, something in Y/n was just telling her it was a boy—as boyish a robot could be. But maybe she just thought the robot would act like Harry and all of his boyish charm.

Stomper grew to life, it’s “eyes” producing a subtle glow.

“Alright and moving forward—“ He moved, a little quicker then the others before him, which Y/n surprised and confused about. “Turning around…” The little robot did just that.

“It works?!” Harry shouted, letting the camera out of focus. He ran up to Y/n and hugged her tight, kissing her wherever his mouth could reach.

“Harry we got to give it more time, he might explode or something-“

“It’s perfect.” Harry chided, ignoring any concern his wife had for the little robot.

~

“I think Stomper was a subliminal message of some sort—“ Harry told the camera. He held on tight to the small child in this lap, who was trying to grab his ear and hair. “Y/n didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Only about a week after the music video went up Y/n had this epiphany that she didn’t have her period for the past two months—and the rest was history.”

Harry looked down at the little boy in his arms, brown hair showing through and a nose like his daddy’s. His eyes and lips through, were a copy and paste from his Mama.

“I joked that we should name him stomper--Y/n did not like that joke at all—so we settled on something else that will forever remain a mystery for you lot, or until I end up rambling uncontrollably.”

Harry, ever the scared Papa Bear, wouldn’t let anyone get a picture of any sort of the small boy. During the video, the boy was wearing a hat covering his face while Harry’s large hand would cover from the neck up. The only way you could know that Harry’s son was there was from the little grabby hands that kept making an appearance.

“But it’s getting close to this bubs nap time, so thank you for all the love.” Harry turned the camera off, smiling as he know the fans would love the one year special treat.

Harry went upstairs and met with his lovely wife taking a nap in their shared bed. His little boy yawned, causing Harry to yawn, so he knew it was family nap time.

“How’d it go?” Y/n whispered.

“Good.” Harry said, moving around so he could big spoon his son and wife. “Bubs was the star.”

“He takes after you.”

Harry smiled at the comment, but knew the opposite to be true. His little baby was showing signs of intelligence that could only be traced to his wife. “With any luck he’ll turn out just like his mama.”

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗶 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲? ❞

━ malleus draconia x gn! reader (reader can be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ thoughts of the possibility of falling in love with your nightly visitor continue to disturb you even during the times you were supposed to focus on your quality time together.

no spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc!

do not steal or translate without my permission.

buy me a coffee here and ko-fi here if you want to support me, commissions are open

“modern architectures seemed to have adapted new designs for their gargoyles. why, i even came across one that resembles a human face. it is quite intriguing, really. i have grown accustomed to seeing gargoyles that usually take the form of different creatures of the night, so seeing that human-like gargoyle sparked some interest in me that i wish to show it to you,” rambled malleus before he frowned, “however, my so-called phone could no longer capture images. it breaks easily, it’s unfortunate.”

you sat as you replied with a soft hum, your chin resting on your hand as you looked up at him with a rather longing and lovestruck gaze. you were paying attention to his ramblings, truly, you were! it just so happened that you were looking at him with an infatuated gaze.

hearing only a hum from you, malleus turned his head to look at his companion. with a raised brow, he spoke, “hm? are you alright?”

his question snapped you out of your thoughts. a soft blush dusted over your cheeks as you felt embarrassed of having been caught staring, “oh, sorry. um… so, did you capture it with… maybe a regular camera?”

once more, there was a frown on his lips, “no, but i will make sure i get to capture its uniqueness and aesthetic the next time i come across that gargoyle.”

it was somewhere around midnight when you decided to accompany malleus in the backyard of the ramshackle dorm, and you spent the past 30 minutes listening to him talk about his findings during his strolls for his gargoyle research club activity.

you loved listening to him speak. his voice was deep and resonant, yet so dulcet and soothing. you would never get tired of listening to him all day. when he speaks with clear passion and excitement laced in his tone, he resembles a young kid who had just gotten some candy – so endearing and oh so innocent, but you had to remind yourself that this was no ordinary man. this was the crown prince of a nation, a man respected by many and feared by many more.

still, who gives a damn about titles when you can enjoy his presence for as long as you want? as long as the moon stays up in the sky and the sun has not risen, you can guarantee his presence in your dormitory.

were you falling in love?

what nonsense. of course not! who could afford to fall in love at a time like this? what you needed to focus on was your return to your world, not fall in love with a prince who may soon be betrothed to someone else.

oh, but that smile…

malleus smiled as he caught you staring once more, lost in your gaze. with a teasing chuckle, he spoke playfully, “am i so captivating that you can’t seem to tear your eyes away?”

what a beautiful smile.

that question alone made you look away immediately. was it too obvious? surely, he was only teasing you, but it was as if he hinted that he knew you might be falling for him. you laughed a little and replied, “i was spacing out! i wasn’t staring or anything…”

“spacing out, hm? does something trouble your mind?” asked malleus. the playful air seemed to have dissipated, replaced with an air of concern and care as soon as you told him you were spacing out.

“not at all,” you replied with a smile, “i was only imagining what that gargoyle with a human face would look like.”

are you falling in love?

again, with such questions! having the desire to spend more time with the man and looking forward to your nightly meetings does not equate to falling in love. you merely wanted his companionship. he was the only one visiting you late at night, keeping you entertained and listening to your troubles. he was more of a friend than anyone else in night raven college – ace and deuce are a category of their own.

there was never a single night he’d bail on you. not a single night had he let you be alone. it had become a tradition at this point for him to always be standing by your window once the clock struck 12. he never arrived empty-handed; there was always a thoughtful gift in tow or an engaging tale of adventures of the people he knew – mostly lilia’s adventures. other times, it would be a treasure trove of fascinating facts on random yet intriguing subjects. with him, each nightly meeting was an enchanting experience, always concluding with the bestowal of a meaningful gift, the creation of lasting memories, or the gain of fresh knowledge.

a knowledgeable and kind-hearted friend.

that’s how you’d always describe him. that’s what you’d always tell yourself. he was nothing more than a knowledgeable, kind-hearted friend. why must your admiration of his character equate to romantic feelings? even friends can find one person cool and not wish to have romantic relationships with them.

oh, but you love holding his hand…

it was another night in night raven college, another night spent with your midnight visitor. he was discussing certain gemstones that he had in his collection – his hoard, a term better suited for his kind. the discussion seemed normal at first glance until he looked at your left hand and held his right hand out for you to hold after taking off his glove.

“may i?”

curiosity washed over your senses as you tilted your head but placed your left hand on top of his anyway. his gentle caress on your knuckles sent shivers down your spine, his hands felt so smooth and oh so gentle, yet you knew of the underlying strength that was concealed within his lovely hands.  the same hand that finds ease in cracking a coconut open gently held your own – as if he was afraid of accidentally hurting you.

as his thumb tenderly brushed against your bare ring finger, he spoke, “a beautiful golden ring would best adorn your hand, perhaps one embedded with your birthstone, don’t you think?”

this was merely a casual conversation between friends – a topic of discussion relating to gemstones turned into rings. this is normal, is it not? you hummed in reply as he continued to hold your hand, “a golden ring embedded with my birthstone? that sounds lovely.” a soft laugh then left your lips, “i could not afford to buy one, however.”

hoping he would comprehend your attempt at making a poor joke, you looked at him with a smile. he let out a soft chuckle, leading you to believe he was amused by your jest until his response completely caught you off-guard.

“why buy one when i can have one custom-made for you?”

your smile dropped as your expression turned into shock.

“pardon?”

that night was memorable, and certainly had its surprising elements compared to your other nightly meetings. you thought he was joking about getting a custom-made ring for you, but he had given so many hints and statements that he was completely serious – he even took your ring size. you did not stop him. perhaps it was just another one of his many, many gifts that he had bestowed upon you.

your vague knowledge of fae tradition made you recall a hint of a connection between faes and the art of gift-giving – that exchanging of gifts was an intrinsic part of their nature. you were entirely unaware of the customs and traditions surrounding gifts in briar valley, but surely, gift-giving is a way to show how much one appreciates an important acquaintance, is it not?

after that meeting, you started to realise the growing number of attempts on him holding your hand – whether you’re walking side by side or sitting together on the bench – he would always attempt to interlock his hand with yours in a way that seems respectful. his hand would gently brush against your own while he was talking, giving a hint that he wishes to hold your hand but would rather have your consent first.

you did not hesitate. you smiled and continued listening to his words as you interlocked your fingers together, gently squeezing his hand as he had not worn his gloves like usual. there was a brief moment of his eyes lighting up and his smile growing wider once he felt your hand on his, but then reverted to his usual expression as he continued to share stories with you.

your nightly meetings had extended to daylight hours. you were no longer confined in the moon’s appearance in the sky to determine how long you’d spend your time with him. you did not mind being seen by everyone else in the academy hanging out with the hotshot dormitory leader of diasomnia – who cares about them?

as long as malleus continued to spend his time with you, you’d spend your time with him. your blooming connection had soon become known to everyone else, and those from his dormitory were more than happy to finally see their dorm leader making friends. well, lilia was the proudest, but sebek still has his suspicions.

it has been a long while now since you have established a connection with the lonely crown prince. his companionship was all you could find on all the times you yearned for someone to hang out with. things were going smoothly, and your relationship with malleus kept blossoming every day.

have you fallen in love?

that question now haunted you once more.

have you fallen in love?

you shook your head as you sighed, trying to think of something else as you sat on diasomnia’s comfortable couch. their lounge was spacious – able to fit more than 20 students at the same time, but you’d rather not stay in the lounge if it gets crowded. the leather couches of their lounge were certainly of high quality as once you took a seat, you felt yourself sinking into the soft depths of the sofa.

malleus was sipping on his tea while the other three kept conversing about their recent school activities. upon hearing your sigh, malleus glanced at you and placed his teacup down, “are you feeling tired?” you shook your head in response, “no, no… not at all…”

have you fallen in love?

perhaps you did. your eyes stayed on malleus for a while as you thought of all the reasons you were drawn to him. malleus had a regal and powerful aura, everyone knew that, but there was also a hint of innocence and loneliness behind that powerful mask of his. you were one of the few people who have witnessed the real side of malleus draconia, while everyone else only knew him as a powerful fae prince.

malleus had the most beautiful set of green eyes – striking and sharp, yet so ethereal and comforting. his eyes showed all the feelings his facial expressions could not, and when it twinkles at the sight or mention of things, he is particularly fond of, you feel a sense of peace within you – as if you felt happy seeing him happy.

for so long have you denied your thoughts and dismissed them as merely friendly observations. you thought he was beautiful, and it should be normal to find someone beautiful, no? you think vil is a beautiful man, but that does not mean you are in love with him, so what makes malleus any different?

but that’s the thing.

malleus draconia’s allure was a level of their own.

his beauty was not like vil’s elegant charm or neige’s endearing appeal. malleus embodies a beauty of ethereal quality – to you, he is a man of enchanting grace and elegance, shrouded in mystery and often veiled in reserve.

have you fallen in love?

after pondering on your inner thoughts, you can proudly answer this question with confidence.

yes, you were.

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[divine-misfortune]

So many things that I would do if I had my way with you

Kinktober day 6: Quickie

Rating: Explicit

Relationship(s): Mountain/Rain

Words: 1,836

Tags: Face-fucking, oral sex, rough sex, semi public sex, degradation, cum facial, dubiously consensual blowjobs, threats of mouth knotting, mean Mountain, Rain's a tease and gets in trouble

Read on a03 or below the cut

The corner Rain tugged the earth ghoul towards was hardly tucked away and that was by design. He liked the threat of prying eyes, and reveled in the way Mountain bristled at the thought. A private creature thrown from his element, he was Rain’s favorite prey to pounce upon, and today he was keen on playing with his food. 

Rain had decided Mountain to be the object of his affections today before they’d even stepped off the tour bus, and he truly was one of the most fun to toy with because of how intently he would always watch Rain play his games with the rest of his pack. Big guy was always brimming with envy by the time he set his sights on him and Rain could feel it with every move he made, the weight of his gaze followed him in every move he made. 

Mountain was the bow bending under the pressure Rain continuously laid on with every calculated attack. The shimmy of his hips as he changed into his uniform, the hand he laid on Mountain’s chest as he spoke in that purposefully hushed voice that had Mountain’s drooping ears perking up, the kisses that lingered longer and longer - he could practically feel Mountain shake with desire, straining not to break. 

Leaning back against the wall, he pulled Mountain closer by the belt loops. Hips being drawn together with a whispered request of “kiss me” that Mountain obliged before he could let out the rest of his breath. Somehow despite how quickly their lips crashed together they managed to avoid smashing their teeth together as well - hellish fangs being smoothed down by glamor certainly helped avoid the unpleasant experience. It’s a clumsy motion that takes a few beats to sync up, a process that really takes longer than it should have because of the fact Mountain is simply voracious. Wanting to take and take everything Rain had to give in the first touch of their lips, he was licking over the seam of his mouth within seconds and unknowingly playing further into Rain’s hands. One of which was lazily palming at him behind his zipper, the sensation of his cock filling out in his hands was always Rain’s favorite part. 

“Couldn’t get a minute of you to myself, tadpole.” Mountain mumbled in between kisses, voice tinged with the particularly desperate flavor of want that he was so fond of. “Like you were trying to get me to chase you.”

”And if I was?” He questioned with a squeeze to the growing bulge in his pants, reveling in the hurt little sound that catches in his throat. “Would you forgive me?”

”Could be convinced.” His head fell back, kiss broken, hips pressing forward into his dangerously clever hands. Rain took the excuse to nip at his bared neck, grinning at the full bodied jolt it earned him.

Gracefully he slipped to the floor and Mountain watched him expectantly but his face twisted up when all Rain did was kiss at his clothed cock a few times, looking up at him with sultry cerulean eyes. His expression shifted into disappointment as the water ghoul pet up his thighs and nuzzled his face against where he tented, very obviously  making no move to free him from his fabric prison. No intent to take him out and offer a little relief. 

“Promise I’ll make it up to you later, love.”

”Later?” Mountain grimaced at the word, brow furrowing deep. The irritated edge in his voice was becoming clear now but the sudden shift in his scent was impossible to miss. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

“Well we’re about to go on,” Rain shrugged, something uneasy and borderline excited flipped in his stomach. 

He knew when to make a tactical retreat but for once, Rain had miscalculated. Upon trying to stand he found himself shoved back to his knees hard, a ruthless hand twisting up in his carefully tamed hair. Looking up made that brief funny feeling in his belly turn to something more recognizable, nervousness shadowing arousal. Gold glinted down at him dangerously, ghoulish nature bleeding through Mountain’s glamor as he single-handedly worked his belt off. 

“Shut the fuck up and open your mouth.” He snapped and Rain began to protest, argue the point that they really were due on stage in a few short minutes. Mountain didn’t care. Didn’t want to hear it. So he tugged at his hair and forced himself past his parted lips, laughing when Rain gagged at the sudden intrusion. “Don’t be so dramatic, I know you can fucking take it.” 

Now pinned between the wall and Mountain’s hips, Rain truly had nowhere to go. Proud nose pressed into the dark bed of hair and held there, Mountain seemed set on molding his throat around his cock and his head swam. His inability to breathe quickly became an issue but once again, Mountain didn’t seem to care. Growled when he pawed at his thigh. 

“You’re not getting out of this. Figure it out.” 

Rain whined and let the magic concealing him drip away, the gills on his neck freed and instantly fluttering desperately for air. Breathing did nothing to clear the fog starting to cloud his head, and neither did the way Mountain began to fuck in and out of his mouth. Rough enough to bump the back of his skull against the wall with every thrust - he’d nearly teased his way right into a concussion. 

Mountain groaned above him, one hand wrapped around his horn and the other fisted in his hair, pushing and pulling him easily. Could have done whatever he damn well pleased with him and Rain knew he could do nothing to stop it. The thought shouldn’t have sent something hot rippling through him but the fact it did was undeniable. Despite his jaw going slack, the ache at the hinge was still bothersome, and he’d regret every decision he’d made in the morning but in the moment his senses were beginning to blur together, hazy warmth trickling into his head.

Drool dripped from his mouth as Mountain’s balls slapped against his chin, droplets landing on a growing wet spot on the front of his pants. It sounded wet. Dirty. Everyone could certainly hear it behind the sound of Mountain huffing and growling, slipping back into something undomesticated and wild, driven there by an elusive siren. 

“That’s what I thought,” he hissed through his teeth and bullied the whole of his length down his throat again, little twitches of his hips only driving him deeper when Rain swallowed obediently around him. “Get a cock in you and you finally start acting right. Quit acting like a fucking slut and I won’t have to treat you like one.”

Rain moaned. A little sound and a flutter of his gills. 

“But you like it when I treat you like this, don’t you?” His lips curled but Rain couldn’t tell if it was a smirk or a snarl. 

With another shallow thrust, nudging against the back of his throat, Rain realized Mountain had not pushed nearly as deep. His eyes crossed trying to look down the bridge of his nose and Mountain laughed coldly, mumbling something about how stupid he looked. Rain blinked dumbly at the small pudgy knot beginning to form at the base, making a vaguely distressed sounding noise as Mountain forced it into his mouth. Not fat enough to catch but enough to add to the strain on his already abused jaw muscles. 

“Aw, princess wants me to knot his mouth huh?” 

He tried in vain to shake his head, held still by the hand around his horn. Mountain wouldn’t let him lie so easily.

Somewhere down the hall they heard Swiss’ booming voice calling for the other ghouls and Mountain cursed, abruptly withdrawing from the warm hole he’d been so thoroughly enjoying to resort to his hands. He tipped Rain’s face up towards him and the water ghoul’s mouth stayed open, tongue lolling out of his mouth. If he wasn’t so focused on the fist flying desperately up and down his shaft he’d have mocked Rain for being such a good little cock sucker but he was racing against a ticking clock. He just continued to stroke himself chasing the release he knew would do nothing to quell the fire in his blood, the throb of his swelling knot told him as much. 

“Fuck, fuck, sh-hit-!” 

The tip bumped against Rain’s tongue a few times, unintentionally rewarding him with the heady taste they both knew he craved, but the little extra stimulation was what he needed. Mountain bit at his lip as his face screwed up, frantically dragging his head up and down his tongue with every pass of his fist until he slapped his hand against the wall with a final grunt. Thick ropes of white sprayed across Rain’s face; his flushed and tear stained cheeks, into his hairline, just shy of his open and waiting mouth, a little even almost managed to get in his eye. 

Mountain’s mouth hung open, eyes rolled back as his hips jerked clumsily forward trying to milk out more spend than what his body wanted to give. His chest heaved as he squeezed his knot in vain, grimacing as his cock stayed hard despite the absolute mess he'd painted his mate with. 

“Mountain?! Rain?! I swear to the high hells if you two don’t appear in the next sixty seconds I am going to burn you both alive in your sleep!” 

If Rain had the mental faculties to do so, he’d be making a similar face. Left dirtied and now rushed by a distant fire ghoul’s yelling. But Rain was far from coherent enough to do so, sagging back against the wall when Mountain released him in order to tuck his dick into his waistband in hopes of hiding his frustration. It barely did the trick but at least it wasn’t as obvious. With that matter sorted, Mountain shifted his attention to him and rolled his eyes.

”Belial, you got so cockdrunk you’re useless.” 

Mountain yanked him to his feet with ease, like jerking around a rag doll. Rain offered no resistance, not that he would have if he could. 

Things moved quickly despite how heavy and sluggish he felt. It was like he blinked and suddenly Mountain had his own helmet on, straightening out his own disheveled uniform the best he could without seeing his reflection. He just remained propped up against the wall where he’d been left. Faintly he recognized the desire between his thighs and the autopilot in his brain thought to press his hand to it but his arms hung leaded at his side and he whined petulantly. 

“You…” Mountain pulled the bunched up balaclava from around his neck, over the lower half of his still cum-covered face “I will deal with you later.”

”But ‘m all sticky-“

”Don’t blame me for the consequences of your stupid actions. Put your helmet on and lets fucking go.”

[windbelle]

Is there any aspect of Astarion that you feel you specifically created in him?

Newbon: I think it’d be remiss of me to say I brought this to Astarion. I took Stephen [Rooney]’s words, which were beautiful, and I did things with them. This is what Stephen told me after the initial demo when I sort of quasi-auditioned, demo-ed for Asatarion. Stephen reviewed it. He liked what I was doing… He didn’t predict the things that I was doing with the character. So they were a surprise to him, which he liked. He then started writing towards the rhythm that I was trying out with the character because he liked it. I think the word “Darling” became more of a thing after he heard me say one line that had the word “Darling” in it, and it wasn’t supposed to be like a thing for him, but it sort of became like an anchor point for Astarion, which I think was really interesting.

Newbon: I didn’t improvise any of the lines. The lines of dialog were beautifully written. But what I did do is the cadence, the habits, the mannerisms, the different jumps and changes, the theatricality, the facade of him, all that kind of stuff I brought in, which isn’t scripted per-se, but I’m obviously following Stephen and the other writers who contributed towards the Astarion’s words and just brought my own take on it, my own flavor on it.

I did a lot of background work, I did a lot of character creation work myself. I spent a long time, over four years, really cultivating different aspects. And I thought a lot about his habits. I brought in a lot of different methodology, from method work, movement work, creature and character design. I spent a lot of work.

This was not something that I just switched on and got into. This took a lot of experimentation to find what was right, especially with things like the voice and particular habits he would do for deflection or dismissing you. I wanted to build very strong habits into him so that even if he was saying one thing, his body might give himself away or what his real intent was. And I think largely we got pretty successful at that because I think you can watch his physicality and realize he’s saying the opposite of what he’s saying.

There was a lot of fun to be had. But yeah, I worked my socks on this role and it was great. It was four years of joy. It was great. Four and a half years of joy.

So, speaking of that work, you did building his lore…

Newbon: Not his lore, the lore is set by the writers, building his life, I think.

Perfect, building his life. Given all that work, do you have, in the fandom, we call it a head-canon? Do you have any headcanons about Astarion that are not explicitly said in the game?

Newbon: I have his background, and I developed aspects of his background that aren’t talked about because that’s a method tool to help live the character’s life. Okay, well, in the past, he used to do things like this. Therefore, that’s a habit that he would carry on into this new life, being a vampire and being a slave, essentially.

So, I took habits from his past that aren’t scripted and developed those myself. Nobody knows that. Nobody needs to be told that. But what it does do is that if I’m put into a new context of a new scene, I know how he’s going to react habitually and also his wants and needs and objectives, anyway. All of that factors into the choice I will then make in-line with physical movement because I have his life in my head. So, if you want to call that a head-canon. That’s kind of like a historic head canon.

What I don’t do is head-canon the future of beyond the story because that story’s happened.

Is there anything you can share there? He loves wool and socks or something.

Newbon: Yeah. There’s a thing where Astarion always checks his nails when he is trying to just dominate people. He dismisses them with a head turn, usually to the left. He does this to put people in their place. To make very them acutely aware that he’s in control.

......

[captain-mj]

Hey gimme that alien thing

Glad you finally sent me this! I loved talking about it with you! btw if you guys want to talk about an idea, feel free to message me

This is really horny but Roach is a human biologist with an alien Soap and Ghost (different species).

Roach felt weird being the only human on ship sometimes. He and Ghost were also the only species evolved from predators which only made it worse. His instinct to smile or stare at them directly when they spoke made most of them uncomfortable, too reminiscent of what they expected from the apex predators of their worlds.

Roach would never blame them! It was their instincts that made them afraid just as much as it was his instincts to be polite. He tried not to get irritated at them when they'd flinch or make a big deal of telling him that he was "Staring predatorily" again. Eventually, he just covered the bottom of his face so he didn't have to worry about it.

Ghost understood. He looked like a predator. Unlike Roach who was omnivorous, Ghost was an obligatory carnivore. Beside occasionally eating these plants that tasted like mint, he only ate meat. His teeth mostly resembled several canines, though some were clearly meant to break bones. His ears were sharp and pointed like a cat that could easily swivel all the way around. A fascinating part of his biology was his voice. Or more accurately, his vocal cords. They were designed to mimic sounds. His voice was not his own. Apparently, it came from some man from Manchester that talked to him and then was killed later. Didn't even remember his name. Just noticed it put others at ease.

"Gary." Ghost purred, sounding like gravel. "You're doing it again."

Roach shrugged. "I like categorizing our crew mates. I am a biologist."

"Planning on exploring my anatomy again?" Giant dark eyes with vertical pupils stared at him. Meant for hunting at night. Ghost looked amused with him.

Roach hated that he wore a mask. His features were gorgeous. Sharp and attractive. But he refused to unlearn baring his teeth and looking calm all the time. So he wore a mask just as Roach did. Kept himself carefully under wraps. He heard rumors that Ghost was disliked by his own species. Roach couldn't think of a reason why.

Ghost and Roach stayed perched where they were, staring down at everyone below. They acted so... odd. Almost herd like.

Except for Soap.

Johnny Soap MacTavish.

Roach would love to explore his anatomy. Maybe his psyche as well. He was a strange man. Right now, he was sniffing the air and looking around, soft deer like ears flicking up. Roach had a feeling the creature he evolved from was similar from a Cervinae. His ears were so big and soft, designed to hear things for miles. Long legs meant to run quickly and a poof of a tail that seemed to mostly just give away his mood. Roach wasn't sure what other uses it would have. Despite the sniffing, Roach knew he was not that sensitive to smell. He had to rely on his hearing and sight. It was close to impossible for any of them to sneak up on them.

Well, not Roach and Ghost. It was almost too easy for them unless Roach wore his cologne. Soap never seemed to mind. He never scolded Roach for walking too close or jumped out of Ghost's way when he saw him coming through.

Soap had giant eyes. His face looked very human because of it. And... innocent. Roach knew he wasn't. Soap had made jokes so dirty they turned Roach's ears red. He seemed to find a special joy in it. But it was hard when giant blue eyes blinked at him.

Ghost tapped sharp nails against the metal they were sitting on. Roach watched it.

"Nervous tic?"

"Hunting instinct. It's to check if my nails are sharp enough."

"You can't eat crew." Roach gently reminded.

"Two types of hunting, Gary. There are more hungers than just food." Ghost stood up, long tail lashing behind him. Roach wished he knew what it meant. His species relied mostly on body language, meaning he probably spoke volumes more than he bothered to translate to Roach.

Instead, he finally went downstairs to eat. He sat next to Ghost like usual.

Unlike usual, Soap sat in front of them. He seemed agitated, ears and tail twitching every few seconds. However, he straightened up and tilted his head at them, ear standing up. It was his version of smiling and looking Roach in his eyes.

Ghost pulled his food a little closer to himself, eating faster. Roach followed suit. It felt really weird, eating meat in front of Soap. He didn't miss the way his eyes followed it, watching it disappear into Roach's mouth.

Soap started to eat his own food. "Is it true humans regularly drink coffee? I heard it's toxic."

"To a lot of species, it is. It's because of the caffeine. You would probably be fine."

Soap hummed. "Is the stuff here any good?"

Roach shook his head immediately. "No. Next time I find some good coffee, I'll tell you."

Soap leaned forward, giant eyes blinking at him. They didn't look him head on. Just slightly down but still more direct than was considered proper. Roach stared at him openly and watched him blush. He didn't seem scared though, so he didn't look away.

The three of them kept eating. Ghost licked his fingers, getting the blood off of it. Roach grimaced and he grinned.

"Not my fault you need it to be cooked."

Soap tilted his head. "Because of bacteria right? Meat contains more bacteria and potential parasites so humans need it to be heated."

"What's an engineer doing researching humans?" Roach turned his attention back to Soap, watching his flinch and the way his eyes tilted back down.

"I research all my crew mates."

Ghost leaned in. "Need to know what might eat you?"

"Need to know which machines are more vital. How much oxygen is the right level? Nitrogen? If one of the machine for food storage fails, what needs to be prioritized?"

"And you decide that?"

"On paper? Not at all. In reality? Yes. I fix the machines. I'm the first person that messes with them. If an emergency happened, I don't always have time for order."

Ghost tilted his head. "And what would you prioritize?"

"High nitrogen levels. High oxygen isn't a necessity. It would awful to make you wear a mask, Roach, but if you need to, you'd have a much easier time and you'd be the only one really affected as long as we kept the oxygen levels above about eight percent. Also, you guy's food. Hungry herbivores for a few days means some complaining. Irritation. Hungry you two? One of us might be on the menu. Risky business."

"Saying I can't control myself?" Ghost leaned in, giant teeth bared. The still healing mark on Roach's shoulder throbbed.

Soap swallowed, looking at his mouth. "Aye. That's exactly what I'm saying. If you had to eat one of the crew, who would it be?"

Roach hummed. "Morbid question. I could live on plants for a good while."

Ghost licked his teeth. Black tongue dripping with blood. He swallowed. "I'm meant to survive a few weeks with no food. I'm sure they'd hurry up and get food before I start getting dangerous."

Soap nodded quickly. "Still. Question remains. Hopefully, I never have to get a proper answer." He smiled. It was an awkward expression, one he clearly wasn't used to making. "Regardless, I hold you two in high esteem. I doubt either of you would ever be dangerous if it could be helped. I'll talk to you both later." Whatever had irritated him before seemed to have gone away.

Roach got a weird feeling that he was both being mocked and also complimented.

Ghost left before Roach could turn to him to keep talking. He didn't need a translation to read his body language as irritated.

Soap continued to get closer. He had never been one that looked afraid, but now he seemed almost comfortable around them.

Roach found himself drawing in closer. Bewitched by Soap. A simple taste and maybe he'd be cured.

The next time the three of them were together, because it was always the three of them, that Soap smiled again. It looked more natural and both Ghost and Roach wondered if he practiced it.

Ghost thought of slipping off his mask. To stare directly into Soap and see if it made him afraid. That or grab that little tail of his and bend him over the desk.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was the mating time of his lunar year. It meant nothing to anyone else. He did not emit hormones or act like an animal or try to drag people into his office or room for the sole purpose of fucking.

Ghost just got a little easier to irritate and his mind would come up with silly things. Like how Soap could manage to look past his claws and his teeth. With Roach, it was easy to ignore. His nails were similar enough to Soap's. Their hands, though differently sized, were the same general way. Ghost's finger were longer. Made to grip and hold struggling things. Scars dotting him.

Roach saw him as a bit of fun. A "chance to satisfy scientific curiosity" about what certain aliens looked like unclothed. He had said so himself while Ghost had been undressed in his bed. Above him and vulnerable. His gentle hands holding Ghost's shoulders when he felt like he'd shake apart from the sweet contact.

It was silly to think things would change between them or that Soap would be any different. They were... better than Ghost was. Far better. He was a problem. Incorrect on his own planet. Incorrect here. Too big or too small.

Soap's hand on his shoulder caught his attention and his eyes flicked over to him. "Save ya a seat, sir?" He looked to the left of Ghost's ear. It gave the illusion of directness. Horribly rude normally. It made Ghost want to touch. To feel connection.

How pathetic of him. He still sat in the seat Soap saved.

Soap was enraptured by the two of them. Their sharp eyes. Lean muscle designed for endurance. The teeth.

He was well aware his tastes were... well. Among his people, they would outcast him in moments. Finding those traits so alluring. Despite being almost their height, only about two inches shorter than Roach and six under Ghost, he knew they could easily pick him up. He was built for speed. Short bursts to easily get away from things just like them.

Soap had tried to push it down. The feeling of longing. The jealousy when they so easily understood each other. He knew logically that it was just because they were the ones that stuck out. But they fit together so well and Soap wanted that. Yes, he could play pretend and get people's attention all day long, but it never felt substantial.

They never looked at him. While they should be normal. He shouldn't want to be viewed. The way Ghost and Roach looked at him as if he had their whole attention. How their eyes trained on his in a way that monsters had before pouncing. It made his heart race. His mouth go dry.

Soap wanted. longed. needed. He wasn't sure what. Maybe it was as simple as just their attention.

He got it when Ghost put his hand on his back. His hands. They were made to rip apart things like Soap. Get inside and devour. But it was gentle. Sweet even. Just a careful press. His tail started to swish side to side like wild and he could feel the tip brushing against Ghost's gloves. He found it hard to breathe.

"Johnny."

"Simon."

His thumb started to rub in circles. "Roach is omnivorous. He would survive just fine without meat for a while, it's just not their ideal diet. It's why he wouldn't answer your question that day."

"oh."

"But me? I'd eat the accountant that lives in the room next to mine."

Soap looked up at him. "Why?"

"He's the closest thing to a creature I had on my home world. It's from the water. A lovely little thing. You just pop those in your mouth and sink your teeth in. I think he'd taste similar."

Soap nodded. "You've thought about it?"

Ghost hummed. "Emergencies as you said. Sometimes, we don't have time to think. And if came down to it. Well. I'd rather make a level headed decision instead of a rash one. Might hurt someone valuable."

"It's cruel to place us on a value system."

"Not much different than you decide who breathes easy. I'd rather eat an accountant than my only engineer."

Soap did not miss that Ghost said "my engineer". Not the ships. Not even ours. Just my. He looked at him and swallowed.

Slowly, he moved closer. Their tails brushed and he didn't miss the way Ghost's breath caught. For Soap, it was a bit like brushing hands. A simple gesture to show affections. Judging by Ghost's reaction, he had a feeling for him, it may mean a bit more.

Roach caught up to the two of him. His eyes were crinkled like he was smiling. Soap wanted to see it properly. Without the mask. Those beautiful brown eyes. He felt weak to them. He had once heard the term "puppy dog eyes" and when he looked at Roach, he thought he might understand the phrase. While they did not quite match the canines he had seen (and quickly learned to loathe), they did have the same adorableness. They were also perfect for begging as Roach had proved countless times by looking at him and asking politely to try whatever Soap was eating. He gave it up each time without a second thought, even though it could never be reciprocated.

"Soap. You look nice today."

His heart somehow sped up more. It hurt his chest. "Ah. Thank you. You look lovely yourself."

Roach's ears went red and they fell back in line. It felt easier when the three of them were together.

Soap stayed with them late in to the night as Roach did his research. He studied one of the new animals he had gotten from a planet, gently coaxing it to eat. It was like a moth, though it's wings were made of a material he was not familiar. Standard procedure would lead him to dissect the poor thing, but... well. He felt too guilty.

Ghost kept glancing at Soap. Usually, if he and Roach were alone in his lab, he could convince him to come to bed with him. That didn't work if Soap was there.

"So, why is a high ranking member of the ship such as yourself sitting in here while a biologist works?" Soap asked.

Roach hummed. "Ghost helps me with experiments occasionally." He gently grabbed one of the... scales? that had fallen off his creature. He slid it under a microscope.

"What experiments? Maybe I could also be of assistance?" Soap's tail wagged. He looked so excited.

Ghost huffed. "He means we have sex."

The wagging stopped and Roach whipped around. "Simon."

"What?" Ghost's tail twitched. He was getting agitated. It wasn't Soap's fault but Ghost wanted... fuck he just wanted.

Soap had a pretty blush on his face. "My apologies. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Roach paused. "Actually. Soap. Could you..." He looked at him.

Soap paused before swallowing thickly. Alone. With two predators. Being asked... "You want me to... what?"

"Undress for me. I've been curious because most of the diagrams we have of your species don't cover everything. So, if you really would like to assist me." Roach batted his eyelashes.

Damn those puppy dog eyes.

Soap swallowed and started to unbutton his clothes. He was always so confident around them. Always ready to push further. As his shirt slid off his shoulders, so did any form of bravado he might've had. His hands shook as he undid his belt, fear and arousal fighting hard. They wouldn't hurt him. He knew that. But they were looking at him.

"Take off your mask." Soap asked as he pulled the belt from his loops.

Roach slowly did. Pretty mouth. Freckles.

Ghost didn't quite yet.

Soap kicked off his shoes. "Please, sir."

His mask fell on the floor next to Soap's shirt. Giant teeth. Scarring. Gorgeous hair that kinked and curled.

Soap finished undressing and closed his eyes. He resisted the urge to cover himself up.

Roach's hands, he could tell by the softness and bluntness of the nails, brushed against him. Every bit the scientist, he actually did take notes. Measurements and pictures. He gently tilted his head so his face would not be seen.

"Why do you have a tail?"

"What?" Soap felt like he was on fire. He didn't know where Ghost was but he could feel their gazes burning into him. Normally, he'd say with certainty that his body was attractive but was it what they'd find attractive?

"What purpose does it serve? Is it behavioral? For balance?"

Ghost grabbed Soap's tail and his free hand was on his waist, moving him easily. Soap gasped, mouth hanging open and more blood rushed to his face as his body reacted. "Think I found it. Mark that it's a mating thing."

Roach actually did. Soap could hear the scratching of the pencil and it made his head spin. It was so cold and calculated and borderline cruel but he liked it. Liked that Ghost's hands tightened their grip.

Breath right against his ear. "Johnny. Are you okay?"

"Yes." Soap nodded frantically, mouth falling open as Ghost gently ran his fingers down his side. He burned all the way through. It only got worse when Roach's deft fingers touched his cock.

"Similar anatomy to a human's." Roach had a tinge of disappointment in his voice. "I wonder." He gently traced his fingers up and down and Ghost's hands were the only thing that kept Soap still. "Soap. Am I okay to continue?" Gary sounded unbearably sweet. Both of them breathing him in and he was stuck between the two of them.

"Yes, please. Please."

Ghost's mouth pressed to his throat at his pulse. They sank to the floor, careful with him. Roach used something on his fingers to make them slick and then he was gently pressing against Soap's hole. Ghost's hands kept his legs spread and Soap's hands were split between holding on to Roach's shoulder and desperately exploring Ghost's chest.

Soap panted softly. The texture of Roach's hands was... new. It felt so good. He wanted to try something. Carefully, remembering where he was, he tilted his head and pressed his mouth to Ghost's. His tongue gently lapped at Soap's lips.

Soap came with a shudder, body tensing.

Roach hummed. "That was a lot faster than I was expecting." He went to pull away and Soap quickly yanked him back.

"I'm meant for multiple rounds, just keep going. Please keep going, whatever you want to try on me." Soap kept kissing Ghost, pulling him closer.

Roach smiled and gently bit the inside of his thigh, loving the little shivers and tremors that ran through Soap. He gently pulled his fingers out and Soap whined.

"Gary?"

Roach kissed his tummy which made dozens of butterflies erupt in both of their stomachs. "Do you think I could fuck you properly?"

Soap nodded desperately.

Roach undid his pants and looked at Ghost. His dark eyes. The way his teeth stabbed into his bottom lip. "Take turns? You're quite a bit bigger. Might be a good idea."

Ghost nodded and kept Soap held open. It was for the best, he'd be too worried he'd hurt Soap to really enjoy himself. This also gave him a very, very good view. Roach went to bury his face in Soap's neck and Ghost growled, making it clear he wanted to see both of their faces. His face went a brilliant red as he kept eye contact with him. Soap still had his eyes closed, lost to the world and in utter bliss and that's where Ghost wanted to keep him. Blunt nails and claws dug into him, keeping him in place. Sharp teeth and rough tongues ran over his throat and his shoulders and his collarbones. Marks that wouldn't heal for weeks.

Soap arched so hard Ghost worried he'd snap as he came again, making tiny, almost pained moans. And then he came a third time. He was almost at the end of his fourth when Roach came in him. Soap groaned when Roach pulled out of him but he was immediately moving again. He tried to copy the way they nipped at him, biting at Ghost's throat. It sent something sharp up Ghost's spine and he picked Soap up with ease and twisted him. His face was pressed to Roach's chest and he pulled his arms behind his back before sinking into him.

Ghost growled softly and his head fell back. He didn't let Soap have a moment before he pulled back and Soap writhed, feeling an odd sensation.

"Fuck, fuck..." Soap cursed and sniffled. "You're... Yeah, you're big. You..."

Roach cupped Soap's face and looked at him, loving the way he squirmed. "His anatomy is unique. Ridges along each inch that give a great feeling. I could bore you with my theories on the evolutionary process but judging by your expression, I think you're a little too cock drunk for that."

Soap most definitely was. His eyes were unfocused but staring back. Desperate. He reached up and managed to kiss Roach. Ghost continued to count Soap's orgasms. A fifth. Sixth. Seventh. He really was meant for multiple rounds. Maybe later, he and Roach could talk. See how many they could get out of him.

Ghost yanked him to his chest and shoved all the way in as he came inside him. Soap finished one last time, barely lucid anymore. He tried to press down on him, get him even deeper. His body fluttered as he let out beautiful little whimpers.

Ghost put Soap over his shoulder and snatched up Roach who had just managed to grab their clothes. They were a bit heavy, but it wasn't difficult to carry them. Well, except for Roach squirming and insisting he get them both dressed. He did not, instead bringing them to his room. He curled around the two of them, tucking them both into him and dragging Roach back when he tried to get out of bed to get dressed.

"No."

Roach sighed and put his head on Ghost's chest. "Fine. Fine. You're lucky no one saw us."

Ghost didn't mention the cameras. He'd just delete the footage in the morning.

[scenteddelusion5]

can you write a zestial x reader where the reader is an angel and they have a secret relationship but the seraphim found out and b an ned her from heaven

A Daring Creature -Part 1

Zestial x angel fem reader

Note: AHHH!!! I LOVE this!! Also why don't we have yellow text colours! I also had to take a LOT of liberties writing Zestial because we don't know much about him.

Warning: inacurate middle English

Word count: 1880

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Zestial was more than 400 years old, he lost the real count a LONG time ago. What he would never lose count of was how long he'd known her. To be fair it wasn't all THAT long ago, only 42 years ago, but he swore to himself he'd never forget that day.

He was hiding out in his mansion on his territory during extermination day when he heard a loud pang outside. Something must've hit the ground very hard, if it was a sinner they would probably already be dead by this point and if it was an exterminator, he didn't want to cross paths with them. So instead he hid deeper, in the basement of his mansion.

The day went on without a hitch and Zestial could leave his manor again to check what happened. While he was exploring his garden, he found a strange creature had crashed into the path, having destroyed the beautiful tiles. She had giant white wings and a yellow halo above her head. small wounds and bruises adorned her body with golden blood flowing out of them, they were, however, healing quickly. She wasn't dead.

Was this angel an exterminator? No, she didn't wear their uniform nor did she hold a black hallow like her military sisters, then why was she here. Zestial had many questions, but first he had to decide. Was it worth bringing in this angel to gain their favour even though she could become a threat later on?

She didn't seem to have any angelic weapons on her, she wouldn't be able to kill him... Zestial decided to bring her in and laid her down on a bed in one of his guest rooms. He designated one of his demon contracts to take care of her and warn him when she wakes up.

Y/n woke up with a headache, the last thing she remembered was falling face first into the ground and now she was in a bed? How did she get here. She slowly sat up, looking around the room, it was decorated with red, black and greenish yellow decor. Did this mean she made it to hell? Another look over her eyes landed on a man standing in the corner, he was short, wore a butler-like uniform and had a web in his hair. What she assumed to be a demon, had red skin and black horns.

"H-hello," she spoke but the demon stayed quiet. "Where am I?"

The demon looked at his watch. "Please put on this attire and wait here. I'll be informing master that you're awake." And with that the demon left without answering her question.

On the chair laid a simple black dress, nothing fancy but it also wasn't a rag. She slowly got out of bed, being careful with her headache, and changed out of her very badly damaged angel attire.

Who was this guy's master? The demon who lived there seemed to be very well of and thus powerful. What kind of mess did she get herself in now?

A knock came from the door, "lady, if you're finished changing please come out."

When she walked out, she saw the same demon waiting on her in the hallway.

"Follow me."

Looking around the hallways, the building looked like it was decorated by someone from th 17th century. Besides all the luxury paintings and dressers, what really stood out were the strange spiderweb motives all around the building, from the wallpapers to the candle chandeliers.

They ended up in front of a pair of doors that were at least 3 meters (10 feet) tall. The tops were arched and the handles looked like spiders.

The demon knocked on the giant doors. "She's here, sir."

"Thee can enter!"

The demon didn't react, so Y/n opened the door just enough to walk through. Inside was an office. The wooden walls as well as the furniture had flowery carvings in them, the fabric used for the cushiony parts of the furniture had web patterns in them and the candle light glowed green instead of yellow.

On the armchair behind the desk sat a tall figure, he had four green glowing eyes, a dark black cloak wrapped around his body, spider held the place of where his bowtie was supposed to be and a hat sat upon his head making his already tall figure even taller.

"Please, sitteth down." The man conjured up two cups of thee, one of which he took a sip from. "Now, wherefore is there an angel down here? Thee aren't an exterminator."

"I was just really curious about hell and kind off... Snuck down." Y/n awkwardly looked around the room avoiding eye contact with the demon in front of her. "What is an exterminator?"

Zestial choked on his tea hearing her question. "Does thou not knoweth?"

"No," she answered.

"Alloweth me to proposeth a deal." He got her attention again after she started to search around the room again. "I shall bid thee about the exterminations and hell, in turneth thee bid me in detaileth about how thee did get here." Zestial held out his hand, it became surrounded by glowing webs.

"Uhm sure, but we don't have to do the hand thingy." She laughed it off. "So when I first arrived in heaven three years ago, I started to wonder what hell was like. Nobody could give me a concrete answer, not even the seraphim. I made it my mission to find out what's it like. After two years, I realised a group of angels went down every year..."

"Hey lute!" Y/n ran up to the older angel. "Where were you yesterday?" "Work." "For a whole twenty four hours?" She asked. "Yes," Lute sighed, "what do you want Y/n?" "I was just curious." "Too curious, it's none of your business where and how I work."

"I knew I just had to follow them, so the next time they gathered, I snuck through the gates and jumped after them. On the way down, I had a bit of an accident, my wing got caught on the metal tip of a strange tower and it ripped through me. And that's how I ended up falling into the ground."

"I supposeth I shouldst hold up my own endeth. Every year, the heavens sendeth down an army of exterminators." As Zestial was telling her this Y/n's eyes widened. "Thy sisters cometh down to slaught'r."

"I... I know Lute and the others aren't model angels, but I doubt they would-"

"T's the thruth." Zestial stood up from his desk. "Anon, t's better thee leaveth. I wanteth not beest the targeteth of thy sisters."

He was about to snap his fingers when Y/n yelled, "WAIT!"

He stopped.

"How about another deal? No one of the angels know I'm here and I have a strong alibi. You seem like a powerful demon and I probably wouldn't survive the streets of hell. So, I stay with you for a year, you show me around and I'll give you... Whatever you want...?" Even though she talked a million miles a minute, he still understood her.

"I aught to want?" He considered it for a few seconds. "Dealeth." Zestial held out his hand and the glowing webs were back.

"You haven't said what yet..." But y/n didn't get an answer. "Fine, ONE thing you want."

Zestial nodded his head.

"Deal."

She shook his hand and for a slight second, his whole appearance seemed to change. The man became even taller, spiders crawled around his body and webs covered their intertwined hands. And then it was gone again, like it never happened.

"Edward shall be in chargeth of thy careth. I expecteth thee to never grise foor of these grounds unless thee has't mine own permission to doth so. Thee may taketh thy leave now." He shoed her away.

Y/n walked out of her office finally realising the gravity of the situation. She just gave a DEMON to make her do or get anything he wanted from her without any limits, except that he could only do so once of course. How stupid could she be? At least now she had a safe place to stay and a very intimidating tour guide.

A week went by and Y/n hadn't been able to explore hell at all. She was stuck in the manor, barely even allowed into the garden. At least she grew closer to the demon butler Edward.

At first the man was distant and cold but he slowly opened up to her. His wife and kids had gone to heaven while he was cast down for protecting them. Zestial had offered the safe and comfortable job as his butler and Edward accepted.

She also learned he was a lot more of a joker than he made himself out to be. When Y/n was helping him prepare dinner for only them two, which they decided was going to be pizza, she had tried to spin the dough and toss it in the air. It went horribly wrong, the dough landing on top of her face. Edward laughed so hard he started crying, after a while the man decided to try it too, only to end up in the same predicament.

Zestial was aware the two had grown closer, he didn’t mind, however. It meant that she wouldn’t bother him and go to Edward for everything. What he wasn't aware of was for the fact that Y/n had made it her mission to create fun activities in an otherwise boring mansion.

One day, Zestial was walking down the corridor to go and ask Ed to pick up an important package for him, only to find the strangest display in the hallway.

"This is going to go horribly wrong," the butler stated.

"It'll be fine, loosen up!" She laughed.

Edward sighed, "If you get hurt, I'm not patching up your wounds."

"I'll take that risk."

What Zestial saw was that the angel had tied sponges to her shoes and tried to skate around on the wet and soapy marble floor. He was just about to speak up when she slipped and fell back. Her back hit his waist, he quickly caught her.

"What art thee doing, î̷̟n̷̰͆͜s̴̢͍͒o̷̖͐l̷̟͇̂͠é̷͖n̶̙̫̑t̶̲̘̅͝ angel?" The overlord was glaring at her.

"I'm sorry sir, uh... Zestial sir." Y/n looked down at her soapy boots. "But you haven't showed me around all the fun stuff in hell, so I decided to make the fun!"

"I can't even but now," he explained, "Everything in doth timeth."

"Then I'll keep finding fun things to do."

Zestial sighed. Maybe this angel was more work than she was worth. "Fine, I shall taketh thee out tomorrow morning." He caved. "Doth not maketh me regreth it."

"YES!"

That nights Zestial was pondering about his angel guest while looking for a big robe. She was quite bothersome but then again, he had made the deal to show Y/n around. Although, the manor had been much more livelier in the week she had been there. Almost every day, he would walk through the hallways and hear laughter, which was a stark difference from before. The manor used to be eerily quiet, maybe she wasn't too bad after all.

Part 2

Masterlist/request guidelines

[wolven91]

A Role Reversal

The taurian huffed with her arms crossed, she was inches away from breaking something fragile just to feel better. She was going to be stuck escorting a goddess damned male around, it was the absolute last thing she needed this week.

They were always so flighty, so frustrating. To say the wrong thing was to have them clutching at themselves as if she’d slapped them.

Urie often found herself in trouble and receiving reprimands when trying to treat a male as she would anyone else. She was instructed to do so! But she always ended up either insulting them or saying something inappropriate and she'd have to once again take a gender awareness course. 

She didn't mean to disrespect them, she just tried to treat them as an equal, as one of the gals!

The door opened to reveal a diminutive human male. The brand new species that the whole galaxy was buzzing about. Something had happened during their introduction, but the story was oddly difficult to get an official report on. 

He looked somewhat similar to a taurian male, flat chest, cute butt. What was truly interesting was that he had no horns. His skull was completely different to a taurian, yet the lack of horns seemed to trigger the same feelings Urie got when meeting a tuarian at the bar that she’d try her luck with. 

In male taurian culture, they would shave their horns down to be as 'desirable' as possible before covering them with a ceremonial sash. This human had no need, it was… scandalous.

"Hey there!" The human gleefully greeted her, surprising Urie with his boldness. She checked herself, sometimes males would want to assert themselves so they weren't seen as meek.

"Er…Hello! My name is Urie and I'll be your escort whilst on the station." She said in a plain, respectful tone and gave a well practised formal bow. It was only then she noticed she was bowing over the outstretched hand of the human.

"Uh, sorry." She said quickly, grabbing the hand, then wincing. She wasn't meant to just grab them, that wasn't 'correct'.

"It's okay! You got a great grip! We'll have to arm wrestle at some point, that'll be funny as all hell!" The fleshy creature laughed with a jovial tone.

Urie'smind blue-screened as she wasn’t certain exactly how to handle this. She'd love nothing more than to arm wrestle a male. To touch them was exciting enough, to actually do something fun?!

This had to be a trap. She'd stick to the training. It was the only safe option.

The following couple of hours was maddening. He'd talk to her freely and calmly. He'd laugh at her faux pars. When she accidentally bumped into him, he deliberately hip checked her right back.

By the time they reached the food court they were both laughing uproariously.

"So, I have to ask. You mentioned that you were looking for a partner?"

"A mate, yes." Urie nodded.

"How come you haven't found anyone? A lass like you should have guys hanging off you I would have thought? What is it, do you snore?"

"I intimidate them." Urie replied with a dejected tone.

"...how?" He asked an incredulous voice. She brought up a thick arm and tensed her bicep, which bulged and twitched.

"Well count me scar-roused." He stated confusing Urie as he spoke with an awed inflection.

"Most males are intimidated by us, we're bigger, more dangerous. Males have to be careful because IF I'm one of 'the bad ones' then I'm a massive threat. You're... you're not usual. No male would act or talk the way you do..." She said before putting her hands flat against the table so he could see where they were, claws extended and digging into the table top.

As a taurian, she wasn’t even close to the largest of the races, but she still had a few feet on the smaller human. The table they sat at was designed for their species, but their differences were highlighted at this moment. 

The human merely chuckled and waved a dismissive hand. 

"Ah, I know kung fu. We'll be okay, I'll spar with you sometime if we get the chance." He said with a casual air.

Urie blinked. The idea of pinning him down was the only image in her head now. She couldn't help but pin him with her gaze as he finished his meal, she used her mighty mitts to smother the toothy grin that refused to leave her face.

The following day, in the evening, Urie opened the can of beer with one hand, grasping the top with her index claw and thumb, while her index finger’s claw picked at the tab and opened it with a practised move. She poured some of it in the outstretched pint glass, once the beer roughly reached the top, she poured the rest in her far larger glass. She didn't have as much now, but she honestly couldn’t care less, it was worth it.

This was the very first time that not only had she had a chance to drink beers with a male, but he didn’t seem to be forcing his taste for her benefit. It also helped that he was so attractive.

There had been males that enjoyed drinks, or acted like females, but they all seemed off to Urie. Males acting like females and half looking like females, wasn’t something she wanted, she just wanted someone who was happy to be themselves and she liked what males looked like, there was no need to be ‘feminine’ to her to be equals. She just wanted to spend time with one that was chill and understood that she meant no harm if she missed a social hurdle.

Urie side-eyed Kerion.

She’d never met a human before, she had no real information on what they were like, it had been barely a month since they had appeared. Her first impressions were that they were odd. Very odd. He was attractive, no doubt there. His hornless forehead lent him the air of a male who genuinely tried to make an effort on their look, but he'd not acted like a male all day or the day before. He'd listened to her opinion, offering banter or other opinions without expecting that she would agree with him. They were just equals, a budding friendship devoid of a power struggle. 

They both ended up sitting on a bench overlooking the community marketplace of the station. It was at the very commercial centre of the various city-sized sections of the station. The ceiling, a latticework of glass overhead glittered as they orbited the blackhole giving it a 'beautiful' look, a serenity that lent to the calm atmosphere of this isolated spot.

Urie’s eyes widened when she realised with a jolt that others used this a 'lovers' overlook. She just felt it was a nice quiet place she went to be alone! She’d always come here on her own, this was the first time she had someone with her up here. She didn’t mean to get him alone like this. 

Cringing at herself, she looked at the human again and wondered what he was thinking right now. 

Did he know? He wasn’t dumb, he had to know!

Was he pretending he didn't know? He was kind and never made her feel lesser, it would be what he’d do…

Was he waiting for her to make a move? Where did that idea come from…

Was she supposed to kiss him? She wouldn’t mind doing that…

The silence felt pregnant, but Urie wasn't sure what to say or do, she sat there wiping the condensation off the side of her glass as she tried to figure out what he wanted her to do now. 

When a yawn tugged at her face, she began to stretch before a fantastic idea graced her. Subtly after the apex of her yawn and stretch, when she relaxed back against the bench, she brought her free arm down along the back of the bench and around Kieron's shoulders. 

He didn’t react at first, if anything he chuckled before turning against her. 

His legs stretched out along the bench, his back fully against her side and with his free hand, gently plucked her wrist and put it around himself, finally resting his smaller arms over her forearms and began to drink again from his smaller pint glass. 

“Mm, I’m glad you finally made a move. I was worried I was going to have to take the jump.” He said quietly. 

“I… didn’t mean for this to happen. I mean! Er.. I’m glad this happened, but I didn’t expect…? Yeah, I didn’t expect this to happen.” She tried to explain, why was her mouth so dry?

He shook against her side. 

“Haha, don’t worry. Whatever the case, I’m glad we’ve got to this moment. By hook or by crook, this has been a lovely day. You’re good people Urie.”

Her heart fluttered when he said her name. Goddess, she felt light headed.

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Our Guest Chapter 1

Vampire!Sun, Vampire!Moon, Vampire!Eclipse x Hunter Reader

(You arrive at a sinister and luxurious castle with the innocent intention of checking why its mysterious residents haven't been paying any taxes or utilities for the past several centuries. Very useful excuse for a vampire hunter to have when trying to do some good old infiltrating. The three vampire lords however, fully intend to capture and seduce you, but that is a bit difficult when you keep asking them about their financial books. Will they be able to make you theirs? Are they onto your little schemes and playing along? Will you finally get that plate of cupcakes? We'll find out)

“There is a beautiful and delicious darling waiting at our castle door, brothers.“

“This is practical, normally we have to go out and hunt for one of those. Apparently the whole process switched to free postal service.“

“I can taste the tantalizing sweetness in their veins even from here. All shall envy our fortune, no other lord of the night will ever have access to such nectar.“

Three vampiric aristocrats were huddling together behind the velvet curtains, trying to get a discreet peek at the unexpected visitor that had rung the castle doorbell, disturbing their nocturnal activities. The boys had been on their best behaviour. Trust them.

Prior to this, Marquis Moon had been composing a new sonata, writing notes in expert penmanship before playing the piece beautifully, but no beloved was there to hear it. Viscount Sun had just been in the middle of painting a new masterpiece, creating wonders with each stroke of his brush, but he had found himself in need of a model to pose for him.

Grand Duke Eclipse's craftsmanship was unmatched when it came to jewellery, his combinations and designs of precious stones and metals resembling physical manifestations of poetry, yet no beauty had been available to wear them, no delicate fingers to offer home for his rings nor lovely neck he could adorn with gold and rubies.

How convenient of you to come and solve their problems, dear Y/N!

You stood at the door, umbrella in hand, calm, smiling, without a care in the world. Possibly wondering why it was taking so long for someone to come to the door. Truth be told, it was a pretty big castle, maybe the residents just needed time to get from one side to the other, you never know.

The three brothers eyed you through the window with hunger, lust and curiosity. It was quite cold outside and your cheeks were red. You were doe-eyed, delectable, theirs for the taking.

Moon's preternatural senses were sharper than those of his brothers, capable of detecting even the smallest of details when it came to analysing a living creature, perfectly appropriate skills for a hunter of his calibre. He could hear the stable rhythm of your heart, memorising it as if it were a beat of a musical piece, something he should use in composing. He could make a whole symphony with your heartbeat as inspiration for tempo, the flow of your sweet blood serving as inspiration for the flow of his music.

Moon spoke, his voice almost a raspy whisper:

“Most unusual, not a single trace of fear in them. Posture almost immaculate, joy and confidence in their bearing, almost as if they just entered an amusement park. Shall we give them a little scare? The steady cadence of their heart could use some excitement, every calm melody needs a good crescendo from time to time.“

Viscount Sun huffed, disagreeing:

“Fear adds such a bitter taste and ruins both the palate and the palette. Various emotions change the chemical components of the nectar of life, different combinations create different flavours, similarly how different colours form various new shades on the canvas. Just look what a soft little thing they are. Such a delicate disposition, definitely not made for this type of weather nor your sadistic chasing games, Moonie.“

“Do not spoil my fun, Sunny.“

“Why chase when you can entice?“

“That is a very interesting way of admitting that you are tragically bad at tracking prey.“

“If only you were as good at throwing compliments as you were with throwing insults, you wouldn't have to chase anyone in the first place.“

Eclipse held up a red beryl gem and gazed at it, as if silently asking a question. A green mist appeared within, whispering to him in a language only he could understand. He listened intently, maroon circles appearing in his golden eyes for a swift moment, before disappearing. All in due time.

Sun and Moon were still having their little argument and he decided it was time to put an end to it:

“Enough, we cannot keep them waiting out there forever. They will freeze before any of you gets a chance to do anything at all. We should warm them up.“

As you were waiting for someone to finally deign to answer the door, you took your time to admire the castle's exterior. You were very fond of such aesthetic and your inner scholar felt like a cat that had fallen into a whole basket of catnip.

Even in the dark of the night and heavy rain, it was fairly easy to discern that it was a place of splendour, its design a combination of Renaissance and Gothic architecture. There was a wide variety of turrets and towers, marvellous rose windows, loggias and galleries, facade ornaments containing statues of figures from Classical antiquity.

Nevertheless, Beauty always had an interesting tendency of holding hands with the Grotesque. Therefore, something lugubrious reigned in the air, a perpetual feeling of gloom, as if there were an echo of forgotten funeral bells, suspended between reality and imagination. Life and Death, Luxury and Decay, all of it intertwined in a shameless orgy of contradictory concepts.

October rain was a perfect proverbial cherry on top. Honestly, there was no better time of the year to make a little detour at such a place. It just didn't hit the same if one were to visit a sinister chateau in June.

The season of Autumn had arrived like an old friend, having just gotten out of its elegant carriage, clad in russet cloaks and vermillion capes, bringing gifts, ripe grapes and apples, calling for harvest and summoning everyone to bask in the final rays of golden sunlight before stern Winter shrouds the land with snow.

However, your particular journey had a few setbacks, forcing you to use all of your negotiation skills to get a local taxi driver to get you to the desired address.

The aforementioned driver was currently sitting in the parked car, keeping the engine running, waiting for your further instructions. He was looking at the building's imposing structure with an expression of visceral fear and the only thing holding him from simply driving away was the suspiciously large amount of cash you had given him to bring you there in the first place.

How lovely, all of our main characters were so trustworthy.

Other than your sudden presence, all had seemed to be perfectly peaceful in our dear castle, not a creature stirred. The bats were napping, the owls nesting, the spiders were wondering whether they should protect their web designs in the central intellectual property system. All was calm. Well, a few poor fellows in the dungeons may not have been having the best time of their lives, but you can't make everyone happy.

You had gotten yourself well-acquainted with the names and ranks of your targets. Pardon, “auditees“. Although, considering the nature of your visit, both terms could equally apply, the revenue and audit business was a cruel one. You had done extensive reading on the subject of their suspicious “economic activities“, along with all the macabre phenomena that had been connected to them. You should be feeling some sort of anxiety over the whole task, but honestly, you were rather giddy. You loved a challenge. What a wonderful way to spend the spooky season.

The heavy door opened in front of you. You looked upwards at the looming shadowy figure, a pair of golden eyes glowing in the penumbra, a deep husky voice greeting you:

“Do my eyes deceive me? A bright morning star is visiting us, is it dawn already? Welcome, welcome, bringer of light.“

“Good evening, sir. Please accept my sincere apologies for disturbing your household so late. You are the Grand Duke, I presume?“

“What a polite little thing you are. Indeed, you presume correctly. Now, why are you here in the middle of nowhere at such an ungodly hour? Lost your way?“

The vampire lord was looking at you as if you were the last scrumptious morsel on that side of the known universe, which could be interpreted as both flattering and unnerving.

Before you could answer, you noticed that two additional figures appeared at his side, a gaze of menacing crimson and one of ardent blue. You spoke, tone chirpy and cheerful:

“The Marquis and the Viscount! What an honour, I only heard the best about your artistic talents.“

“Oh, did you come all the way here for an autograph, dearest? Or perhaps a private performance?“

You smiled at them, tilting your head like a kitten that was trying to charm its owner into getting treats.

“May I come in? I will make it quick, I promise.“

The three of them gave each other a look, grinning as if thoroughly amused.

“Interesting, usually we are the ones asking such a question. Come in, come in! Do tell us, are you a tourist? We love tourists that desperately need assistance with directions. Adore them, very much so.“

“You love to help them?“

“Hm? Ah, yes, yes. Definitely love to help them.“

“Actually, I have been sent by the Revenue and Audit Bureau, I am here on official business. The usual, suspected tax fraud, unpaid utilities and so on. “

They definitely didn't expect that. Oh, no, no. Confusion reigned for a solid minute, before you casually presented your very legitimate credentials, letting them read. Sun was the first to break the silence with a slightly hysterical laugh. He reached to give you a little pat on the head.

“Are you now, my pretty? We still love making new friends, even when they come from financial institutions!“

“The taxi is waiting for me with my baggage still, so I won't take long and will just ask you a few preliminary questions. This visit was really just intended for me to announce that I would be conducting this procedure in the following days. I will be making a few additional visits during the week just for the sake of the inspection, then I shall be on my merry way with the report.“

“Nonsense! We cannot let you go back on the road in this weather. Besides, the local hotel is more terrifying than a graveyard at the witching hour. Do stay with us, we have plenty of comfortable chambers, we cannot let you fly away like a little comet in the night.“

“Oh, you are very generous, but that won't be necessary. Business aside, it is still a great pleasure to make your acquiantance.“

You extended your hand to them, expecting a firm and professional handshake. What could possibly go wrong there?

Everything.

Your eyes widened when the Grand Duke took your hand and kissed it, taking his sweet time. By the time he released it, your cheeks must have gone through several shades of red.

“The pleasure is all ours, morning star.“

As if that wasn't enough to make your heart skip a beat or ten, the Viscount and Marquis joined the fun, as well, each of them placing little kisses on your knuckles.

Alright, apparently neither side would be playing a fair game.

They knew exactly what they were doing. Their gestures and ministrations provided an excellent distraction, making you drop your mental defenses for a few precious seconds, enough for them to work their spell on you as you began to lose yourself in their eyes.

Several firm rules existed when it came to dealing with vampires and you just messed up the most crucial one: do not let yourself be mesmerized.

And yet.

Combine that with your natural curiosity and desire for knowledge, and there you have it, a freshly baked disaster, straight out of the oven.

Suppressing your fascination with the three of them had suddenly become a very difficult task. You had never seen such facial structures nor anatomy before. True, you had seen your fair share of weird things in your short little life, but you were still very much taken aback.

The three aristocrats possessed celestial features reminiscent of their heavenly namesakes, a perfect union of Beauty and the Grotesque, allowing such an appearance to be more alluring than simply awe-inspiring. The brothers were preternaturally handsome, of impressive height, wolfish grins always present, everything about them was perfectly tailored to entrap both willing and unwilling victims.

Sun's canines were discreet but still very sharp, appropriate for someone whose primary role was to lure and enchant. Moon's were far more prominent and intimidating, the rest of his teeth possessing a similar razor edge, fit for a predator meant to deliver efficient results. Eclipse's were the sharpest and most lethal, establishing his status of being the most formidable and terrifying member of the group.

Rich scents were lingering in the air around them, amber, vanilla, cardamom, rose oil, lovely, oh, so lovely.

It took you a solid several seconds to register the fact that you still had to use your words to speak, but the glow of their eyes was so magnificent, magnetic, such ethereal beauty, entire worlds were present in them, promising pleasures untold.

It was as if the concept of time had suddenly been shattered like a fairy tale mirror, seconds became centuries. How long had you been silent and simply standing there in pure adoration?

And yet, a certain part of you suddenly awakened, grasping the rest of your soul by the hand and pulling it out of the mindless haze, showing that it had power strong enough to escape the tendrils of darkness. You had a task, after all. Let's remain professional.

Unbeknownst to you, the brothers were somewhat shocked with your ability to get your mind back on track, even after direct exposure to the hypnotic power of all three of them. True, they had only been using a low level of their mind control magic, but it was still impressive, considering that most humans would simply choose to remain in the comforting embrace of oblivion. Why on earth would anyone choose to return to the cold fields of reality?

During all of that, your grip had slackened on the umbrella's handle and a suspiciously strong wind current blew it away right out of your hand before you even had time to realize what is going on, leaving you unprotected from the pouring rain.

By the time you had finally returned to your senses, you were partially soaked from the deluge and the wind was really not doing you any favours. You made a cute sneeze, followed by another.

“Pardon me. Now, as I was saying-“

Another adorable sneeze. You honestly hoped that this wouldn't make your reputation suffer one day.

Eclipse casually commented, smirking:

“You won't be able to last the drive to the hotel like that. Unless you are prepared to deal with potential pneumonia.“

Before you could protest, Sun eagerly trapped both your hands in his grasp, giving them a little squeeze and massaging them as if trying to warm you up. He didn't let go even when you tried to pull away.

“Goodness, darling comet, your hands are so cold. You will catch your death out there, we must insist that you stay here with us for the whole week. It is very cozy and comfy inside, we can build you a whole nest of blankets after a nice hot bath. Moonie, go get their things and give the good driver some extra compensation, will you?“

You blinked as Moon passed by with a speed that was certainly not normal by any means. You could have sworn that you felt the most tender of caresses along your cheek, a motion so swift that your eyes could barely catch it, but your nerves certainly did. It was difficult to supress a shudder.

Enthusiastic and almost mad with glee, Moon got all of your things from the car, hastily throwing a bag full of jewels in the taxi driver's face as additional payment, ignoring the man's muffled yelp, before dashing right back at the door, carrying your baggage as if it weighed nothing.

A few moments later the only thing that was heard was the rain falling and the sound of the car tires shrieking as it drove off, leaving you alone with your eager and enamoured hosts.

You made a little squeak of surprise as you were suddenly pulled inside, the door closing and making a dramatic echo in the stormy night.

A few words were in order regarding the noble residence. The whole castle served both as a comfortable home and as a convenient trap for newcomers. It was true that the classical process of hunting provided a wonderful thrill, a tingle so exquisite that nothing could compare. Chasing and tracking chosen prey, what a delight, sensing the beating heart, the warmth of blood, bliss beyond description. However, there were times when it seemed appropriate to play a more elegant game, inviting and letting the victims enter the web willingly.

Therefore, our handsome vampire lords had a habit of organizing ostentatious dance parties, having a very strict dress code where all the guests had to dress in accordance with the fashion of the late 18th century. A grand feast would be prepared, fireworks, concerts, luxuries that would place kings to shame, a decadent display of wealth and desire. The celestial vampires would then proceed to charm and seduce their victims, one by one, all of them giving themselves, mind, body and soul.

If all went well, and usually it did, the experience could be pleasurable for all those involved. One drinking from the neck, the other two relishing the sweetness on the pulsating wrist arteries. If things were a bit more amorous, all of them would nibble and drink the precious blood from the inner thigh area.

Sharing was caring, after all.

There was something beautifully intimate about the whole process. Drinking life. Hungry licks and bites, gestures of both a lover and a murderer. For an enemy, tearing out the heart and drinking from the source seemed like a worthy way of evening an old score, but for allies it would always be a pleasant little bite and a quick drink, leaving the victim alive and well.

They harboured a heightened appreciation of the human body. Flesh was aesthetically pleasing, beautiful, pulsing with life, warmth, all those wonderful things that were ready to be stolen. Blood illuminated by moonlight, blood illuminated by early rays of dawn. Art, it was pure art.

Furthermore, the brothers had additional powers conveniently associated with their artistic skills. Temporary enthrallment was a wonderful tool, but they created their own ways of ensuring a more permanent bond with those they allowed to live, assuring that no matter where they run, they could always be called upon and summoned like obedient pets.

Sun would sometimes use some of the precious blood as an additional pigment ingredient for his paintings, no different from Moon at times combining it with ink to write musical notes as he composed. It served as a type entrapment of the person's mind, having a part of them forever bound to them, their soul captured in their art, their music.

If Moon were to play a piece written with the blood of one person, they would immediately succumb to the pull, making haste to heed their master's call no matter what. Similarly, if Sun were to paint with that specific colour containing the blood pigment, he could make the person do whatever the picture was showing in that current moment.

Eclipse's ability was the most potent, he was capable of trapping the entire soul of a person in jewels, ensuring absolute control over their mind and heart whenever he wished. In death they would remain his prisoners, their spirits and energy his to use as he pleased.

Such magic was terrifying even in the world of vampires and therefore a majority of them had acknowledged the celestial brothers as royalty among immortals.

Now, let us return to your fun little predicament with those very sane individuals that certainly only had your best interests at heart.

Moon made haste to bolt the doors as soon as you were inside, of course. Sun's giggle was slightly maniacal as he winked at you.

“Security reasons, my pretty. You never know what beasts are lurking out there, dangerous times we live in.“

You pouted, removing your soaked coat and trying to get your hair to somewhat dry by combing your fingers through it.

“Oh, yes, that is quite true that one can never be too careful, my dear sir. In fact, I think I saw a few life insurance agents on my way here. Truly frightening creatures, the lot of them, wouldn't recommend meeting them in a dark alley under any circumstance whatsoever.“

Moon's voice was close once more, it seemed almost as if he moved as swiftly as a shadow, one could miss him within a single blink.

“There could be some other monsters wandering around, shining comet.“

“Such as?“

“Do you happen to know which creature of the Night feeds on the essence of the living, stalking and doing all it can to attract prey?“

“The HR department?“

Ignoring his confusion, your focus shifted to the grandeur of the interior. They weren't lying, it was undoubtedly cozy and wonderful to behold. Comforting heat was coming from the fireplace. Thick carpets with elaborate patterns were present all over the hardwood flooring. Walls were decorated with intricate tapestries and paintings, golden sconces, cabinets containing Venetian glass and crystal figurines, not a single surface was left bare. Vaulted ceilings, frescoes painted in each available bit of space, creating a wonderful effect that only a mad artist could concoct in a fever dream of divine inspiration.

Which is probably what had happened, considering Sun's habits.

However, elements of the supernatural and macabre continued to linger. Some paintings had eyes that seemed a bit too alive, while others would become more and more disturbing the longer you looked at them. Statues appeared to be capable of changing their pose at a whim and it was easy to miss the motion itself within a mere blink. Shadows cast from the fireplace were not following any law of physics, undulating and writhing on the floor as they please, sometimes creating monstrous shapes.

Marvellous. Beyond description, fascinating. Had it not been for your task, you would have gladly spent a whole eternity studying the components and properties of the whole structure.

You were brought back to reality when you realized that you were still very much shivering and that you really needed to get your hair properly dried.

You gasped as you suddenly felt Eclipse wrap his cloak around you from behind, pulling you closer to his form, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. Goodness gracious, was that a secret additional pair of arms he had?

“Sir!“

“There was no time to fetch you a blanket, consider this an urgent alternative.“

“Don't you think this is a bit of a compromising position?“

“Preposterous, that must be the feverish delirium talking. This cruel weather is detrimental for soft flowers such as yourself.“

“I suppose by this logic it must the delirium that is squeezing my hips right now?“

He purred in your ear:

“Relax, morning star, you need warmth, we cannot allow you to get ill under our care.“

“I think I am very warm now, though.“

“Hush, be still, let us take care of you.“

Viscount Sun made sure to get your attention once more.

“You know, sweetness, many have pursued us for various reasons, but tax evasion was never one of them. This is going to be a fun new experience for all of us.“

It was perfectly within your right to struggle and act indignant in order to free yourself, but you were aware that you had to be diplomatic and collected for the moment. Antagonizing your hosts would yield no results and would certainly make your job far more difficult than it needed to be.

You had to remain professional, it was a task like any other. Yes, your hosts were not really the best examples of sanity nor did they seem to be aware of the concept of personal space, but you couldn't let that distract you from your duties. Someone had to be mature in the whole situation, after all. You cleared your throat, trying to appear as dignified as possible in your current position.

Adjusting a bit, ignoring the fact that you were still being held tightly by four arms, you managed to reach for your pocket to get a little notepad and a pencil. It was a rather comical scene to behold, since you had limited options and an even more limited space to maneuver in, but by some miracle you were able to make a few scribbles on the paper. Such an action required the same skill level one usually achieves when trying to get work done with one cat asleep on their computer and five additional cats on their lap and head.

Sun was very much offended with you playing with the paper and pencil instead of letting him warm your hands. You spoke:

“Alright, I will need some basic information for now, such as source of income, registered businesses, unregistered activities that may go under the radar of the government. You do realize that there is an unusually large cemetery on the way here that is not even on the map?“

“I can answer all of those for you. Accumulated heirloom. Pleasure is our only business and business is doing well! As for the final one, well, it is such a tragedy how incompetent cartographers are these days, my dear.“

“Regardless, I still have to conduct a thorough investigation and write a report, it is a formal requirement. Also, it will be necessary that I take a tour around the place simply to inspect the installations. Since none of the utilities are being paid for either, I must see whether you have self-sufficient power sources.“

“Now, now, you can't explore all on your own, that would be against our rules. And you don't want to be a little rulebreaker. You cannot enter certain rooms or parts of the castle without our permission.“

“Understandable. You three can guide me during my stay, then.“

“Moreover, communication with the outside world is highly discouraged. So discouraged, that it is forbidden, actually.“

“May I ask why?“

“You may! We won't answer, but you definitely may ask regardless, your voice is so pleasant to listen to. Do you sing?“

“I am still processing the “no communication with the outside world with no explanation whatsoever as to why“ part, give me a moment. I think I need ibuprofen.“

“Oh, we do have that!“

Soft cloth suddenly fell on your head and you realized it was a towel. You slowly looked upwards, finding yourself face to face with Moon who was now shamelessly hanging upside down from a cord, crimson eyes as menacing as ever and grin impossibly wide.

You spoke, unsure how to even react properly:

“What on earth are you doing?“

“I was feeling excluded. And you needed something to get your hair dry.“

“How did you even get up there? You were at the door barely a few seconds ago.“

“In a very clandestine and stealthy manner, as is currently being demonstrated. Impressed?“

“Fine, yes. Happy?“

Moon giggled like a wicked imp, relishing the situation. Teasing you was slowly becoming his new favourite activity.

“Are you good at playing hide and seek, my everlasting aurora?“

To his surprise, you actually did ponder the answer to his question for a few moments. Finally, you smiled at him:

“The classical game has a predictable pattern, so I actually did invent my own twist once. I would count, the other person would hide, and then I would simply proceed to steal cookies from the kitchen without anyone knowing. Really practical. Free sweets, nobody knows who the culprit is, perfect cost-benefit analysis.“

Oh, he loved that. Moon definitely appreciated some good old-fashioned mischief and he felt an even greater desire to discover what made you tick. He reached with his hand, tracing along your jawline with his claws, before pressing the palm of his hand to your cheek, his wicked eyes never leaving yours.

“Naughty, naughty. You must be punished.“

“Retroactively?“

“With interest.“

“Good luck with calculating all of that. If you start early, you should be done by the next decade, give or take a year or two.“

Moon's mind was already imagining all sorts of scenarios that he had every intention of bringing into reality.

What a delight it would be to have you, play with you, chase you, catch you, taste you, forever and ever. Your blood was tormenting him, you were the golden apple stolen from a magical garden, ripe and delicious. He did not care how many pomegranate seeds it would take to ensnare you and chain you to his world.

One had to admire the dedication, at least.

He was familiar with that sly streak. Finally, a kindred spirit. You had something guileful within you, as if a joyful scherzo were constantly playing in your soul, lively and vivid, truly akin to an ethereal aurora borealis in the night sky, teasing mortals with its unreachable beauty.

Needless to say that Sun was simply not having this and he had to ruin the moment by intervening in the most mature way possible: by taking your pencil away.

“What is this I see? A hawthorn pencil? Quite sharp, I see. No, no, we can't have such a vile thing as hawthorn wood here, absolutely not, in the trash it goes where it belongs.“

You had every intention of arguing with him, but you were once again distracted with the fact that Eclipse was now diligently getting your hair dried with the towel as if you were a kitten they had found outside or something. Goodybe reputation, it was nice knowing you, write a postcard.

“I must say, nobody ever insulted my pencils before.“

Sun went over to the nearby desk, fiddling with some parchment until he found what he was looking for, returning with a triumphant grin on his face and a quill feather in his hand.

“You shall write with one of these.“

“I don't even know how to write with ink without making a mess.“

“Come now, I am sure you are a fast learner.“

You shuddered as he teasingly slid the feather along your cheek and neck.

“Oh, stop.“

We were all familiar with the saying about everything being about the journey and not the destination itself. Perhaps you could allow yourself some enjoyment in the whole affair. In all technicality, you did manage to get in the castle, so it was going well for now. Moon summoned a few ghostly servants to command them to get a comfy chamber prepared for you, as well as some dinner. You were rather tired and hungry, after all.

Eclipse gave your shoulder a little squeeze to get your attention.

“Now, morning star, since you are already here, could I interest you in some pretty necklaces you may like?“

You pondered his offer for a few moments, before shrugging, letting yourself relax.

“You know what? Sure.“

(continuation also on AO3)

[kottekonst]

Birthday Fanfic - Soft 14

Diving headfirst into Tumblr by posting the little birthday fanfic I wrote for my bestie @davidtennan-t Because she deserves all the soft 14th Doctor content 💖

Ten glorious months had passed since the Doctor had bi-generated, and subsequently sent his 14th regeneration into not-quite-retirement, or perhaps more aptly a retreat-for-emotionally-damaged-time-travellers. Time was a funny thing for anyone to grasp, and even though the Doctor had lived seemingly for eons, he suddenly found himself with oodles of spare time – a concept he had never experienced nor grasped before. He was still struggling to adjust to it, and the restlessness could make him absolutely insufferable at times. Donna had never seen someone illustrate the idiom “climbing the walls” literally before, but if she’d ever expect it of someone it would only be her freakishly nimble Spaceman.

During the first couple of months, she would often find him out in the shed in the dead of night tinkering with everything from a Silurian hibernation unit to model aircrafts, or in the kitchen experimenting with the ideal pH-level for water to make the perfect brew. Other times he would be sat next to Rose either deep in the most random conversation, or complete silence, or listening to one of her playlists, while he handed her tools and materials to put together her latest design. Her gonks had changed since she let go of the lingering Meta-Crisis, but she kept coming up with new ideas, some that Donna heavily suspected were inspired by actual aliens from trips they kept sneaking off to. Truthfully, Donna simply loved the fact that her daughter was able to explore time and space as she had once done, but she was also very protective of her. The universe could be an incredibly dangerous place, but there was no one she trusted more when it came to protection than the Doctor.

After a couple of months, the Doctor had finally started unwinding. His restlessness declined and the lines in his face became softer as the broodiness eased up, and he would often sleep through the night rather than tinker or aimlessly wander. He rarely spoke of his experiences during the time they had been apart, but he would bring something up on occasion to any of them. He and Wilf seemed to have a special understanding, as they had both experienced their fair share of battles. The bond between Donna and the Doctor went far beyond words though, and while there were times when they spoke endlessly and tirelessly, they often sat in comfortable silence. It wasn't uncommon for the Time Lord to seek Donna out for a comforting hug, or he would wordlessly take a seat next to her and curl his skinny frame up against her, with a sigh as deep as the Universe.

 The Doctor was slowly healing from his trauma, which in turn made their whole little household more harmonic. It was only in the last month or so that Donna noticed another sign of healing in the Time Lord. His hollow cheeks had filled out not long after settling down, but now she realised he was actually filling out in other ways. Those tight suits were looking tighter still these days, and his lower shirt buttons were definitely struggling to contain a certain softness that had never been there before. It didn't surprise her, but she could tell the Doctor was oblivious to it, initially at least. Even though he still had the energy of a toddler on a sugar high, his days of endless running and fleeing were done, and retirement came with creature comforts the Doctor had never been able to partake in before now. There was suddenly time for three course dinners, or meals that lasted hours, not to mention countless cups of tea and biscuits. It wasn't just meals shared with friends and newfound family - the Doctor became rather popular in the village, particularly the sweet old lady in the house next door. He had started doing odd jobs for her the day he moved in and to show her gratitude and appreciation she would make muffins, cakes, and sugary biscuits, meaning his larder was always stocked with freshly baked goods. One might even suspect she was actively trying to fatten him up, since she kept fussing and fretting over his skinny frame, and Donna didn’t blame her – his gaunt appearance had been rather harrowing when he’d finally conceded to settling down. The soft roll that had slowly formed around the Time Lord’s waist was a testament to the healing and decompressing he’d experienced thus far, and it was honestly reassuring to see it.

To a stranger’s eye, the Doctor would probably still appear as lean or lanky, but to those who knew him there was no denying the subtle changes. A few weeks ago, the Time Lord had finally caught up with it himself, and the realisation hit him when he encountered two issues at once. Firstly; he tore a button off in his struggle to button up his shirt, and secondly; he couldn’t get his trousers closed and zipped up either. He had marched in on the family eating breakfast, wearing only a vest and boxers, ranting and raving about this perplexing issue. They had all sprung into action in their own ways, showing support and patience for the brilliant yet simultaneously dim alien. Rose had wordlessly taken the Doctor’s trousers and went straight to her craft room to let them out enough to make them wearable, until he could get himself a new pair. Shaun had gone to his closet to pick out one of his own shirts, which certainly wouldn’t be a perfect fit, but would definitely be big enough for the Time Lord. That left Donna, and Wilf to a lesser extent, with the task of explaining the changes that had been so obvious to everyone but the Doctor. He had been relentlessly running for so long that the consequences of not doing so had clearly slipped his mind, and it was evident that the notion of putting on weight both intrigued him and irked him simultaneously. Now that he’d settled into a routine, the Doctor was less apt at dealing with changes, either for good or bad. There was also a certain vanity that came with being a Time Lord, but it had certainly lessened with this regeneration, and Donna couldn’t help but smirk to herself when she thought how the Doctor might have reacted to putting on a few back when they’d first travelled together.

“You definitely need some meat on your bones, Doctor – frankly, you’ve earned it,” Wilf insisted robustly.

“He’s right, you know. This is nothing but a bit of comfort weight,” Donna reiterated.

“I don’t know… it just makes me feel so…” the Doctor faltered, unable to find the right word.

“…human? Normal? At peace, at long last?” Donna suggested. She noticed him making the tiniest of grimaces at the first word, and she couldn’t help but give him a playful glare – as much as he loved humanity, he still found it hard to fully embrace anything human about himself, which only made it easier to tease him.

“Oh, stop sulking, you big dunce. If I threw a fit every time the scale didn’t show the number I’d like, Shaun would have walked out within our first week together. That tiny excuse for a belly would hardly even be enough for three Adipose, you know,” she remarked, which made them both chuckle reminiscently.

Since that morning, the Doctor had grudgingly allowed the TARDIS automated tailoring unit to alter his suits, but it certainly improved his comfort levels. He didn't alter the trousers that Rose had let out for him as her work was impeccable, and the gesture meant the world to him. Donna had even seen him lovingly stroking the fine stitches at the waistband, which nearly made her burst into tears out of love for the alien uncle's adoration of his human niece.

Just before the weekend, Rose had begged her parents to let the doctor take her for a quick visit to Greece. She had desperately wanted to see the Acropolis, but Donna didn't want her messing about with time, so they had compromised and allowed them to go to modern day Greece. They were only gone for half an hour that Saturday, but had spent an equivalent of 6 hours in Athens. Apart from visiting the ruins of the Acropolis, they had done some shopping, or rather, Rose had. No matter how much Donna tried to discourage it, the Doctor wouldn't stop spoiling his niece. And she was thankfully too sweet to take advantage of him… at least most of the time. She had picked out two dresses and a lush fabric for her sewing projects, and even managed to convince the Doctor to buy himself a new pair of swim trunks as well as vegan moussaka for the whole family’s supper. As it turned out, that wasn't the only thing they'd ended up bringing home.

“That is not what I think it is,” Donna protested when they exited the TARDIS.

“We couldn't leave him, Mum. He was nearly run over by a car, but the Doctor saved him,” insisted Rose, who was clutching a tiny ginger kitten to her chest.

Donna turned her pointed gaze on the Time Lord, who merely shrugged helplessly.

“I might not be the biggest cat lover, but I couldn't let the poor beast get squished,” he said.

“I'm not saying you should have let it die, but you can’t let her drag home every bedraggled creature you happen upon, or you’ll have to turn the whole village into a sanctuary for kittens, Oods, and God knows what else,” Donna sighed in exasperation.

“You got to keep your bedraggled alien,” Rose pointed out with a cheeky expression.

“Oi, don’t get snippy with me, missy. Now you’d better sort out a flea bath for that baby – we can’t do with an infestation on our hands… again,” Donna ordered.

Rose merely giggled as she handed the small creature over to the Time Lord, while she hurried for the gate – the old lady next door had plenty of flea shampoo to spare, as they’d found out after a particularly hairy alien (quite reminiscent of a certain Meep) had paid them a visit… and brought along a few unwelcome pests. The Doctor held the tiny cat as if it was a very delicate, yet also repulsive, figurine.

“What is this strange aversion you have to cats?” Donna chuckled at his perturbed expression.

“Not sure… suppose it’s got something to do with their glands,” he muttered.

Donna merely shook her head and stooped to pick up the shopping that had been left just outside the TARDIS to bring it inside. 

Within the hour, Rose had managed to give the kitten a bath and its first meal. It had also knocked over two potted plants, gnawed a hole in one of Wilf’s slippers, and caused the Doctor to curse loudly in Gallifreyan as it used his long leg as a climbing pole while the Time Lord was trying to reheat the moussaka. By supper time, she had set up a playpen for it, so they could all enjoy their meal together without the ginger furnado causing mayhem around them. Once they had enjoyed their Greek cuisine, Rose turned her attention back on the kitten, while Donna took care of the dishes. By the time she had finished wiping the kitchen down, she went to see how her daughter was getting on with her new pet but was surprised to find Rose by herself in her craft room.

“Where did you put that kitten then?” Donna wondered.

“I asked the Doctor to keep an eye on him – I forgot I had a deadline to keep,” Rose replied and gestured to the purple gonk sat on her desk.

“If that’s going to be your pet, you’ll need to be responsible for it, love – no handing it off the moment you get too busy, that’s not how animals work,” Donna pointed out.

“Oh Mum… you honestly thought I kept that cat just for me?” Rose chuckled as she turned to focus on her sewing.

Donna was about to argue since it was evident the Doctor really didn’t care much for the critter, but there was a knowing sort of gleam in her daughter’s eyes that made her curious.

“All right, if you say so. We were thinking of watching a film later, if you’d care to join us,” she said.

“Thanks – if I get this finished I might take you up on that,” Rose replied. 

Donna left the craft room behind and decided to see how the Doctor was getting on with the furry menace. His bedroom was empty, but she hadn’t expected him to bring the kitten in there anyway, and so she headed to the first floor sitting room next. There was the Time Lord and the ginger beast, but not in a position she had expected. The alien was sat on the sofa, long legs sprawled over the floor, his body slumped against the cushions in a deep sleep. His head was tilted back, his mouth slightly agape as he breathed calmly and steadily. On his ever so slightly rounded middle lay the kitten, curled into a tiny ball of soft fur and whiskers, also deep in sleep. The sight was almost too endearing to handle – Donna nearly wept at it. This was all she’d ever wanted for her best friend… A life of love and comfort, with friends and family ever present. For him to be safe, to be saved, but her daughter had spotted a different need; the Doctor’s need to save others. A kitten might not compare to rescuing an entire town, planet or species, but it was a life saved all the same. Donna carefully pulled out her phone to snap a picture of the picturesque scene, before taking a seat across from the snoozing Time Lord. The sound of her movement caused him to stir, and he slowly came to with a yawn.

“Looks like you’ve gotten soft, Spaceman… in more ways than one,” Donna teased him fondly.

The Doctor blinked sleepily at her, before peering down at the kitten still sleeping soundly on his recently softened middle.

“I suppose once you look past the glands they may not be so bad after all,” he conceded with a crooked smile.

“That niece of yours has got you wrapped around her little finger, you know,” she remarked.

“She does. I am helpless against her charm,” he chuckled.

“You’re both absolutely hopeless,” Donna pointed out.

“I’d say she gets it from her mother,” the Doctor retorted, while he gestured for Donna to join him, since he was reluctant to shift his position even slightly. She had long since stopped second guessing what anyone else might make of their physical closeness – if it didn’t bother her husband, what did it even matter? So she didn’t hesitate to switch seats and settle down next to the Time Lord, where he instantly let himself sink down further until he could nussle his head up against her shoulder. Donna reached out and stroked the tiny ginger furball, and the kitten instantly started purring in its sleep. There they sat in comfortable silence, Spaceman and Earthgirl, and all was well.

[bloggingnsfw]

Deep in the forest

Sequel to Werewolf breeding

Warning: smut, pregnancy, female reader, Gnoll, 2 Monsters X fem reader, creampie, implied creampie, rough

Part 2

As she traversed through dense forests and treacherous landscapes, strange beasts came upon her occasionally. At each instance, however, your courage and resolve only seemed to intensify. She swiftly dispatched the threats and continued onwards towards her destination, unaware of the numerous eyes that watched her departing figure vanish into the distance. Meanwhile, the alpha wolf waited patiently within the cave, eagerly awaiting her return. Whenever danger loomed near, Y/N employed various techniques learned from the wolves – stealthily navigating around obstacles, stalking her quarry, and utilizing guile to deceive potential predators. In doing so, she managed to maintain her sense of self-preservation, although her spirit was tested many times over. In the distant she could see a cavern, she hoped so find some shelter from the brutal wind.

The air within the dimly lit cavern reverberated with an underlying sense of excitement and danger. Every step taken echoed loudly against the stone walls surrounding You, as if every movement was amplified, drawing attention towards her arrival. Her eyes roamed about restlessly, trying to discern anything familiar among the peculiar array of creatures gathered around the large, smoke-filled space. Clothed in a tight leather bodice accented with intricate silver designs, she exuded confidence despite the oddity of her situation. As her footsteps drew closer, more curious glances were cast upon her – it seemed they had not encountered such beauty before. "What brings you here, lovely one?" The voice came from behind her, huskier than expected, causing Y/N to shiver involuntarily. Turning slowly, she met the gaze of a towering figure cloaked in black - its body barely concealed beneath the garment. Despite the obscurity, his size alone spoke volumes; he was undoubtedly the master of these lands. "I seek companionship," she replied boldly, allowing herself to be swept up by the moment. With each passing second, the allure of his presence grew stronger, enveloping her senses entirely. As their bodies pressed together, Y/N felt the heat radiating from his chest seep through her clothes, leaving goosebumps across her skin. Unable to resist any longer, she reached out to touch him, tracing her fingers along the contours of his broad shoulders and down his muscular arms. In response, he pulled her even closer, pressing his hardened length against her soft curves. Without warning, his hand snaked around her waist, pulling her close enough so that their lips nearly touched. His breath quickened, sending waves of desire coursing through both of them. It was then that Y/N made her move, sliding her hands up his chest until they reached the hem of his cloak. Grabbing hold firmly, she began untying the knot securely fastening it around his neck. With each gentle tug, the fabric parted slightly, exposing tantalizing slivers of flesh. Glancing upwards, Y/N caught sight of a pair of steely grey eyes peering back at her intently, filled with burning desires and expectancy. Unperturbed, she continued teasing him further, pushing the boundaries of what could have been considered polite behavior. Running her tongue seductively over her lipstick-stained lips, she whispered suggestively, "Do I make you want me?" This time, there was no doubt in his expression, only lustful intent etched deeply onto his face. Reaching down to cup her breast lightly through her top, he groaned audibly, the sound filling the confined space, making the warmth between her legs grow exponentially. Taking a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes briefly, savoring the delicious feeling of anticipation. Lowering her head demurely, she brushed her nose against his collarbone before biting playfully at the flesh. The sharp pain served as a trigger, releasing a flood of endorphins that intensified the arousal. Desire now coursed through her veins, propelling her movements faster and harder.

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 The Difference a Stab Wound Can Make by RadAceFriend

💙 The Difference a Stab Wound Can Make

by RadAceFriend

T, WIP, Series, 49k, Wangxian

Summary: The sword went through Wei Wuxian's chest. Suihua went through Wei Wuxian's chest. Kay's comments: Another series marked as incomplete, but the story definitely feels complete! In which, at Qiongqi Path, it's not Jin Zixuan who dies, it's Wei Wuxian. So, Jin Zixuan lives, but at what cost? The cost is that he has to grow up and grow as a person as he realises how corrupt the Cultivation World is. Everyone is congratulating him on killing Wei Wuxian and he's just really not feeling it and I really loved this Jin Zixuan POV. Also has the nice effect that the Wen remnants live, something the second and third story of the series deal with. Wangxian get a happy ending in the end as well, because Wei Wuxian still gets to return as Mo Xuanyu. Excerpt: His father ordered a stone tablet carved of his noble deed and Jin Zixuan wanted to scream. The design the artist had drawn to give over to the stone carver showed his sword piercing Wei Wuxian, the expression on his own face one of righteous judgement while Wei Wuxian’s was one of murderous rage. There was a second drawing, one of him in the main hall with A-Li against him. In that one, Suihua dripped blood still, and A-Li’s face was one of sorrowful acceptance, and his one of peaceful resolution. Jin Zixuan hated them. Jin Guangshan ordered for both of them to be carved and put up with the images of his own accomplishments, so that everyone would know what his heir had done. It was only at night, when A-Li was asleep, and Koi Tower was quiet, and he was as close to alone as he could get with only the peepholes he could find blocked against peering eyes and listening ears, that he took A-Ling from his cradle. A-Ling was still so young that he did little but eat and sleep. But sometimes, he was awake, and not crying, and this moment when Jin Zixuan picked up his son was one such moment. He pulled out the bell and tassel. “Someone wanted you to have this.” He said quietly. He spoke in a low voice rather than a whisper. One of the first things he had learnt from his mother was that a whisper travelled further and could be more clearly heard than a low tone. “He made it, to protect you.” A fastened the bell to A-Ling’s swaddling clothes. “It will have to be a very strong resentful creature if it wanted to harm you.” He gently pressed his lips against A-Ling’s forehead, where the vermillion mark had already been painted. “I’m sorry that you will never get to meet him.” He rocked his son back to sleep, ignoring the pain still lingering in his ribs and chest.

pov jin zixuan, pov wen qing, pov lan sizhui, canon divergence, jin zixuan lives, jiang yanli lives, wen remnants live, canonical character death - wei wuxian, thirteen years of wei wuxian's death, butterfly effect, lan wangji/wei wuxian get a happy ending, not jiang family friendly, jiang family dynamics, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, cultivation sect politics, angst with a happy ending

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[archonsoflove]

Law and Order

Zhongli/Tartaglia/Neuvilette

CW: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M/M, Mating & Breeding, Scent Marking

Word Count: 4.6k

-------> MASTERLIST

-------> Read on AO3

-------> Part Two: Hunger

Part One | Insatiable

“Zhongli, baobei, wouldn’t it be lovely to travel to Fontaine?” Ajax sat across from Zhongli at their usual table at Wanmin Restaurant, a basket of crystal shrimp between the two of them. “We’d be able to visit museums, do wine tastings, and browse antique stores. It paints a pretty picture, doesn’t it?”

Zhongli gave Ajax a flat look from the other side of the table, far from pleased. “Ajax, you know as well as anyone else that I have seen everything I will ever need to in my lifetime. There are certain places I don’t wish to visit twice.”

“What?” Ajax leaned forward; eyebrows raised in that mischievous way that Zhongli adored. “Don’t tell me you don’t get along with the Hydro Archon? Is that what this is about?”

The old dragon coughed into his hand, quickly making use of his chopsticks to snatch up a shrimp.

“Zhongli, no…” bewilderment lit up Ajax’s eyes, widened and ecstatic in realization. “You mean to tell me you will forfeit a vacation in Fontaine because of her?”

“Yes.”

And Ajax simply could not take no for an answer.

~

“Ajax, if you try and feed me any more ginger sweets, I fear your kindness will be rejected by my stomach and prove your efforts futile.”

While dragons and adeptal beasts were known for their immunity to most human ailments, it seemed Morax’s human form was not. Zhongli knew for a fact that the ocean was not his friend – Osial end him – and seasickness even less so.

Ajax sat down next to him on the bed in their cabin, a tentative hand coming to rest on his bare shoulder. The billowing white poet nightshirt hung to one side, proving to be a sorry sight against Zhongli’s dishevelled form.

“If I’d known Rex Lapis was prone to seasickness, I’d have put you on a ship a long time ago,” Ajax teased.

Zhongli face went ashen at the thought.

“I’d much prefer it if we spoke of something else.”

✦

Fontaine was beautiful. And elegant. Just as Zhongli had remembered it to be. Tall architecture, in creams and soft hues of blue that were gentle on the eye, lay before them. The crisp scent of freshwater melding with Sumeru’s ocean across the main harbour did not go unnoticed by his keen sense of smell.

“Would you look at that?” Ajax whistled softly as the land far below them passed by in a blur.

The Aquabus moved quite fast, and with the railings so low, Zhongli wondered for a passing moment if passengers had ever toppled over.

“Such fine machinery,” Zhongli hummed in agreement, keeping his hand tightly grasped in Ajax’s. Heights were something he was not fond of, if he could help it.

Zhongli felt as if he were still moving when they finally reached the port – and solid ground. A small creature, which he could only assume was a Melusine, passed them their luggage. He sat down on the bench to watch the bus depart once again, head still spinning from vertigo.

Ajax looked beautiful when he was in his own element. Dull blue eyes were now alight with keen interest and the bustle of a new city. And something warm bloomed in Zhongli’s chest, knowing he’d get to wander these streets with someone he loved. It had been a long time since he had indulged in the pleasantries of travel, especially with good company.

“While Fontaine has remained at the forefront of technology in recent years, it’s charming that they’ve held on to a more traditional style for their interior design.”

Ajax’s smile was genuine, eyes never leaving Zhongli’s face. It seemed there were some small ways in which he could surprise an Archon.  

Hotel Debord had always welcomed the Northland Bank’s investments with open arms, and it seems that generosity was extended towards their employees as well. Their hotel room was a grand suite, bookcases lining one wall, cerulean and golden rimmed antiques on the other behind glass casing.

“And silk sheets?” Zhongli stepped over to the bed, running bare fingers over the golden silk, eyes dark amber in the soft lighting. “If I am correct, Fontaine takes pride in the quality of their silk productions, and much of their materials come from the Melusines…though I haven’t been able to meet with such a creature long enough to ask.”

Ajax dropped their suitcases by the foot of the bed and toed off his boots. His feet sank deliciously into the plush carpeting, and for a second, he thought it best they stay in for the evening... But! This was Fontaine.  And the nightlife waited for no one.

Zhongli felt Ajax’s arms slip around his waist, breaking him from his thoughts of silks and tradesmanship. Ajax laughed softly at the small purr emanating from his lover’s chest, placing a small kiss in the hollow beneath his ear. He would never get enough of this man, and his mind, forever racing from thought to thought, constantly lost in history from decades past.

“I’m sure you’ll meet many people while we are here. But for now, shall we go out for the evening? Indulge a little?”

Zhongli hummed in agreement, arching his neck for Ajax to leave a small bite in the junction between his neck and shoulder. A flash of something hot and dangerous crackled up his spine, and he turned around in Ajax’s arms to face him.

“Dining with you would be my pleasure,” Zhongli whispered softly, his lips brushing the shell of Ajax’s ear. The involuntary shiver that passed through Ajax did not go unnoticed, and it made Zhongli’s lips tilt up in that humoured and sly way of his.

And it was always like that with them, the constant push and pull of their nature. It was one of the reasons why Zhongli loved him so dearly.

✦

Café Lucerne was in the heart of the Court of Fontaine, and Ajax did not for one second let go of Zhongli’s hand as they walked through the bustling streets. No one spared a second glance at them, too lost in their own affairs, and for that Zhongli was thankful. In Liyue, people were much more observant.

“While Café Lucerne is a café, they have wonderful food,” Ajax told him, a dashing smile complimenting the blush high on his cheeks. “It’s much different to our dining experiences at home.”

The sun had been unforgiving when they’d travelled through to Romaritime Harbour, and it seemed he was a touch sunkissed. And Zhongli’s heart swelled with fondness upon hearing home. Ajax thought of his land as home.

“What am I going to do with you?” He found himself saying, a smile tugging at his own lips as he allowed Ajax to drag him along.

A soft snort from the Snezhnayan. “You are going to take me to dinner, Zhongli.”

And what kind of lover would Zhongli be to deny him?

“Good evening,” a waitress ushered them to their table, her golden hair slicked back into a bun. “I will be back shortly to take your order.”

“This is quaint,” Zhongli commented, taking in the antique and fine clothing stores across from them. He swore he saw a dog with a bonnet, but it may have been a trick of the evening light.

“It is, isn’t it?” Ajax sighed wistfully and reached for a menu. “I’ve heard that you can debate and speak of any topics at Lucerne, as long as you don’t bring up death.”

Zhongli had to laugh at that.

“And, if you do, they will ban you.”

“However have you managed to not get banned when you last visited?”

Ajax smiled and met Zhongli’s gaze, his heart fluttering at the adoration he found in bright cor lapis.

“If you must know, I got quite drunk that last time I was here. A man was convinced he was an apple tree and wanted to “become one with the soil”, and so I told him to go drown himself instead.”

Zhongli frowned at that.

“It was a joke of course! I just found it absurd at the time, and I later found out his friends did bury him in the sand.”

“Fontaine’s people are stranger than I remember.”

~

Arouet had brewed them a perfect cup of coffee, with rich cream and milk. Ajax had insisted on having desert before dinner, and Zhongli basked in the leisurely nature of the evening.

“Sumeru’s coffee is richer in flavour,” was Zhongli’s conclusion. Ajax was crestfallen.

“While I can see the advantages of brewing coffee with the help of technology, I suppose the more traditional methods can never be overshadowed when quality is on the table.”

And Ajax had no room to argue. Sumerean vendors brewed their coffee in metal jugs over hot sand, and while the slight tang of bitterness put him off, he also missed the thicker quality of the espresso.

“But I do have to say that Arouet’s pâtissier makes lovely desserts,” Zhongli added, his attention drawn back to the Conch Madeleine, lifting a forkful to his mouth.

Before Ajax could reply, a man behind Zhongli caught his eye. It was the flash of pale blond hair, cascading down a cloak of ocean blue, elegant tailorship lining the edges of his suit in deep gold. It was only, and only, when he turned around from Lucerne’s front desk, that he realized exactly who he had been staring at.

The tall man locked eyes with Ajax, and immediately the Harbinger felt inclined to get up from his seat and run for the hills. Fontaine had hills, and caves, and he knew he could go far. Pale eyes trailed over Ajax, before landing on Zhongli’s back, eyes widening slightly. Zhongli stiffened, all too aware of Ajax’s distraction, and catching the scent permeating the air. One he knew far too well.

“Tartaglia, what a pleasant surprise to see you back in Fontaine so soon.”

Zhongli looked behind him at the deep voice, surprise colouring his cheeks a startling shade of crimson. He shot Ajax a glance before they both rose to greet the stranger.

“Chief Justice Neuvilette,” Ajax moved around the table, and offered out a hand for the judge to shake. Neuvilette simply stared at his hand for a moment, before hesitantly reciprocating. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

Zhongli narrowed his eyes at the exchange, all too familiar with the scene playing out in front of him. And that scent. Sea salt and mint, something darker, and terribly recognizable.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Zhongli said stiffly, dipping his head in greeting, “again. It seems you still have not grasped the proprieties of mundane social etiquette, Neuvilette.”

Ajax didn’t miss the way Neuvilette seemed to do a double take when turning his focus to Zhongli. He did one himself. What did Zhongli mean by “again”?

“Oh…”

Zhongli revelled in the questions he saw swimming in those lavender eyes.

“I believe my eyes are not deceiving me,” Neuvilette finally said, “for we have met, haven’t we, Morax?”

Ajax looked between the two of them, his mouth slightly agape.

“I have to say, your alias is well-chosen,” Neuvilette continued, a soft, good-natured laugh in tow. “It seems we may have more in common than we initially thought, Tartaglia. We seem to travel in the same circles, despite our occupations, of course.”

Zhongli’s hackles rose at the thought of anyone thinking they knew more about Ajax than he did. A low growl threatened to escape him, but a tentative hand on his shoulder stopped him. Ajax’s hold tightened as he moved to stand next to him. Zhongli cleared his throat and cast his eyes down to the ground.

What on earth was he doing?

“That we do,” Ajax replied politely, wearing a smile Zhongli knew was well trained into him from his days spent helping customers with paperwork at Northland Bank. “I do hope you find the rest of your evening pleasant.”

“Yes,” Zhongli interjected. “And I am quite glad it is not raining. The weather has improved greatly since my last visit.”

Neuvilette’s eyes darkened at that, but he said nothing of it, and simply nodded. With his hands clasped behind his back, he offered Zhongli a shallow bow, that same, gentle smile on his face. Ajax felt wary of it, while Zhongli’s baser instincts seemed to recognize this as a challenge. But a friendly one. It made his head feel light. That dark scent clung to him, and made his breath quicken.

“Enjoy your evening, gentlemen. May we meet again before you leave. It would be a pity if we didn’t meet for dinner. There is much for us to talk about after so much time spent apart.”

The two of them only sat down again once Neuvilette had turned the corner, heading to one of the Marcotte Station’s stop. The questions flowing between them, unanswered, seem to come out all at once.

“How do you-“

“Ajax, I’ve-“

Ajax laughed nervously and lifted a hand to run it through his hair. Zhongli knew he only did this when he was worried.

Zhongli decided to ask first.

“Ajax, how do you know the Chief Justice of Fontaine, exactly?”

Ajax sighed, looking at Zhongli with tired eyes.

“The last time I was in Fontaine, Il Dottore was occupied with Meka technology,” he started, smiling weakly when Zhongli reached over to hold his hand, his thumb tracing soothing patterns into his skin.

“And Clockwork Meka piqued his interest to such a high degree that he thought it fine to tamper with the official Fontainian Garde, which you can imagine was one of the reasons why I had to stand trial.”

“But thankfully I was let off easy, and in turn, was acquainted with the Chief Justice himself. There is nothing more to it, I can stand by that.”

Zhongli squeezed his hand reassuringly, his heart melting at the sight of those blue eyes filled with concern. He knew Ajax would fight for him in a heartbeat if he had to.

“I’ve known Neuvilette for many years,” Zhongli started, tentative and hushed. “But only in passing. Do you know what he is, Ajax?”

Ajax looked at Zhongli, expression morphing into confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Neuvilette is a dragon, Childe. A water dragon, at that.”

Zhongli had to try very hard not to burst out laughing at the look of mortification that fell over Ajax’s face.

“Is that…” Ajax closed his eyes and shook his head, as if this were a dream he could snap out of. “Zhongli, is that why you acted so out of line like that? Because he’s a dragon? Because you are territorial?”

The god had the audacity to look embarrassed.

“That may have been the case.”

Ajax then decided the bill was in order.

~

“Just like that.”

Zhongli bit deeply into the scar on Ajax’s nape, tongue laving gently over it after. His hands roamed over Ajax’s body, pressing deeply into tender muscles, the warm, soapy water rippling over them. Agile fingers traced over healed scars lovingly, and lips chased after freckles adorning the pale expanse of back akin to cinnamon on cream.

He could never get enough. Feel enough.

He inhaled deeply into Ajax’s neck, relishing in the snap of ice and pine that always lingered there. And his mind seemed transfixed on the notion that this man was his. A ceaseless mantra of mine, mine, mine. A low purr escaped him, and Ajax gasped, feeling hands tightening their grip around his waist.

“I’ve been lax with my training recently, haven’t I?” Ajax said breathily, head falling back to rest on Zhongli’s shoulder. “I hear there are many opponents to spar in the High Court. Champion Duellists, too.”

Zhongli kissed the furrow in his brow tenderly, a sound of protest leaving his lips.

“You are perfect,” he said reverently, lips skimming over Ajax’s cheekbone. Ajax hissed at the ticklish contact, skin still burning slightly from the sun. The hot water did not help much either.

To make his point clear, his fingers dug deeper into the softened flesh of his hips, thumbs moving in slow circles over his hipbones. Ajax moaned low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut at the gradually building heat in his gut, sitting heavy in his lower back. He arched into the touch, craving more, wanting more.

”We should finish up,” Zhongli whispered, voice a velvet timbre.  “The heat won’t do your skin any good for too long, I’m afraid.”

A low chuckle, the water splashing as they got out. Zhongli knew exactly how to take care of him, and Ajax was still left speechless at how easily he read him. Again, the constant give and take, push, and pull, of their relationship left a thrill rushing through him. Or was that just how love was?

“Zhongli, don’t tell me you brought Mist Flower essence with you?” Ajax raised an eyebrow, sat on the edge of the bed as Zhongli rummaged through his suitcase.

He stopped for a moment, looking back at Ajax, a knowing glance thrown his way. Ajax’s eyes moved over his form, stopping at the dip of his collarbone, exposed where the silk robe had come loose.

“Ajax, you burn quicker than oil meeting a flame. Did you really think I wouldn’t come prepared?”

“Point taken,” Ajax huffed, tearing his gaze away. He undid his robe and lay on his stomach, letting it pool over his lower half. He winced at the tight pull of skin. He’d burnt badly. He felt the dip in the bed when Zhongli kneeled over him, the pop of a vial being opened, loud in the comfortable quiet.

A small whine when cold ointment met his skin, the strong smell of mint hanging over them.

He couldn’t deny that Zhongli’s hands felt wonderful on his skin. Featherlight touches, gentle and careful not to hurt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His breathing evened out as Zhongli continued his work.

A single finger traced from his tailbone up to his nape, agonizingly slow, while the other gave his waist a testing squeeze.

“That feels good,” Ajax breathed, voice muffled by the sheets.

Zhongli didn’t miss the way Ajax’s hips shifted against the bed, and the flex of muscles, shining under the dim lighting. His fingers trailed down to his tailbone, slipping to his hips and underneath, grazing his abdomen.

“Such, ah-,” Ajax raised his hips, a soft moan escaping him, “such a tease.”

His face burnt bright, from the sun or arousal, he didn’t care. Zhongli’s chest pressed against his back, his cock half hard against the back of his thighs, his nose pressed into his neck.

“Because you’re mine, Ajax,” Zhongli said against his neck, voice laced with the edges of a growl. Oh, he’d never acted up like this.

“Hah, then-“ Ajax keened and writhed under him, trying to turn over to face him. A solid grip held him in place, pinning his hips into the bed. “Then take me.”

The scrape of elongated fingernails up his side made him release another pathetic wine. He wanted to see him, wanted to admire how well he’d made his lover lose his carefully held composure. From the corner of his tearing eyes, he noticed small flecks of gold adorning blackened arms like stars. Oh, how stunning he was.

“Like this,” Zhongli panted, breath fanning Ajax’s jaw, wet kisses trailing down to his collarbone, a fanged bite making him gasp at the sting. “You’re mine, Ajax. Mine to claim. Mine to breed.”

The old god’s eyes were wild, and molten gold when he gripped Ajax’s chin to press their lips together, tongue viciously prying his lips apart, to taste, to swallow those beautiful, high moans. Every caress was like fire, crawling up Ajax’s arched spine in white heat. If he were to die, he would choose this man to devour him.

“Zhongli,” Ajax’s voice came out shaky, between their lips, brushing together hurriedly as their robes were pushed off, water from a duck’s feathers. And how lovely Zhongli had always looked in silk. Regal, yet soft. “Please.”

Zhongli relished in the flush that spread over Ajax’s chest, as he ordered, “Prepare yourself for me.”

A soft gasp of shock followed Ajax as he moved to the head of the bed, resting his back against the cushioned headboard. Zhongli’s eyes watched him carefully, slitted pupils dilating at the sight of hydro slicking scarred fingers, before reaching down, index pressing insistently in. Impatient. And it had lust pooling heavy in his gut.

He couldn’t rip his gaze away from Ajax’s, deep blue eyes darker still, arousal and desire and love rising to the surface. He trailed a hand down his own stomach, an arm braced behind him, and legs spread, hissing at the contact with his hard length.

“I love seeing you like this,” Zhongli admitted breathily, “How you crave my touch. How it drives you mad.”

Ajax’s head lolls back to rest against the cushions, eyes closed, and mouth parted in a silent moan as he presses two fingers into himself. Zhongli’s eyes fall to his cock, a beautiful and sinful sight, laying against a white thigh littered with bruises from too tight a grip, the tip a deep shade of red. Erotic. Pearlescent spend leaking, begging to be tasted.

“You are divine,” Zhongli groans, deep and guttural and his own hand squeezes around his length. Heat stokes headily in his groin, and he stops, chest heaving with breaths meant to soothe the lust rather than to catch breath.

“Zhongli, please. I need you inside me,” Ajax’s free hand comes up to circle two fingers around the base of the head of his cock. Zhongli sees white for a second at the sight, his pride soaring high, a voice in the back of his mind declaring: he could come just like this, without even needing to touch him.

An animalistic sound, low and predatory, fills the room as Zhongli moves over Ajax. Obedient and knowing, Ajax removes his fingers from himself and holds them out to his lover. A long, rough tongue escapes kiss swollen lips to lick them clean, and he whines – a high, pathetic thing – as Zhongli moves down his body, eyes clouded over in a haze, the taste of Ajax, Ajax, Ajax on his tongue.

“Others may want you,” Zhongli murmured lowly against Ajax’s stomach, kisses pressed into freckles and scars reverently, “but I am the only one who may claim you. I have claimed you.”

“You have,” Ajax breathed out, lust-heavy gaze following Zhongli as he bit into his thighs, small pinpricks of blood licked up by a draconic tongue, just shy of being too rough to please.

A pleased purr emanated from the god’s chest, his arms and the tips of his hair shimmering with flecks of amber. Ajax held his breath, watching as Zhongli opened his mouth and licked tentatively at the head of his cock, finally tasting his prize.

“Oh,” Ajax’s hands found purchase in Zhongli’s hair, coaxing him to lick up his length, and swallow him down. A few silent moments as the vibrations of Zhongli’s own moans sent sparks of pleasure skittering up Ajax’s spine, making his stomach flex in anticipation.

And then he started moving, tongue dragging on the underside of his length, relishing the shudder he felt run through Ajax’s body, hands tightening in his hair and stinging deliciously.

Anyone who dared to challenge a god for his own mate was a fool. And Morax intended to imbed his scent on his mate as thoroughly as he could before the evening was over. And how intoxicating his scent was, the taste of Ajax’s spend heady and all-consuming on his tongue.

~

The following morning, Zhongli was insatiable.

“You are stunning like this, Ajax.”

Ajax’s laugh against his lips was swallowed into a deep kiss, followed by smaller kisses across the freckles scattered on his cheeks.

“Can we have breakfast, please? One moment of your time.” Ajax looked a mess. A beautiful, debauched and thoroughly fucked mess, at that. “While room service was a joy, I think the maids may never come in unannounced again.”

Zhongli had been awake before Ajax, and had taken him in his sleep, rousing his lover from dreams to come inside him again. At the memory, Zhongli gently pressed a kiss to Ajax’s shoulder, trailing his teeth cheekily over the bruise there for good measure.

“I thought it was good manners to knock, but it seems Fontaine is different.”

Ajax scoffed at that, sitting up a little to reach over for the tray that had been placed on the nightstand. “Quite.”

Amongst freshly sliced bread, jam, and black coffee, they spotted a blue envelope secured under the stacked side plates.

“A letter?” Ajax frowned and snatched it up, turning it over curiously. Embossed with the High Court’s crest, and addressed to them, there was no mistaking who it was for.

I hope this letter finds you both well.

While our meeting was brief last evening, I trust you will accept my invitation to dine near Palais Mermonia. My apartment is just across from the building. You would be blind to miss it! Fontaine offers a rich history of the arts and law alike, which I know you will enjoy learning more of. I will be off duty by six, and eagerly await this opportunity to catch up with old friends.

Sincerely,

Iudex of Fontaine,

Chief Justice

Neuvilette

“He’s really inviting us to dinner, isn’t he,” Ajax stated, more out of disbelief, than actually asking a question. “Zhongli?”

“It’s hard to say…” Zhongli started, eyes still scanning over the words. Elegant penmanship, he found himself thinking.

“Do you want to see him?”

When Zhongli looked up at Ajax, instead of seeing jealousy like he’d feared, he saw sincerity and a tender softness. Vulnerability.

“I…” he sighed frustratedly. “Ajax, I was not completely honest with you last night. Neuvilette… while he is…” he fixed his eyes on Ajax’s fingers, absently tracing circles over the inside of his arm. “He was a close friend, quite some time ago, but…”

Ajax had never witnessed Zhongli at a loss for words many times in their relationship, but the tenderness never left his touch or his gaze when he asked: “Were you lovers?”

“Oh!” Zhongli laughed at that. “No, no, not quite. I never had an interest of that nature towards him, but…I do think he did.”

“Hm, I can’t blame him,” Ajax pressed a kiss to Zhongli’s temple, nose nuzzling affectionately into his hair. “Would you like him to have an interest in you?”

They knocked noses as Zhongli turned his face to kiss the corner of Ajax’s mouth, seeking the warmth and reassurance of his presence. “I don’t find it uncomfortable, if that is what you are implying.”

“My love, you know what I am asking.” Ajax kissed Zhongli gently, coaxing the answer out of him, teeth sinking into his plush lower lip.

Zhongli reached out a hand to grip the tray on Ajax’s lap, already knowing he’d knock over the hot pot of coffee onto them if they continued.

“Ajax, I am quite aware of what you are trying to get out of me, but….”

“But?” Ajax prompted, looking smug, noticing the blush rising high onto Zhongli’s cheekbones.

“Dragons have certain instincts…ones that aren’t quite usual anymore, since there aren’t many of us left” he admitted, a sigh of defeat following.

“You’ve always had the instinct to breed me-“

“This is different,” Zhongli cut in, holding up a hand to silence him. “While we are scarce, we still tend to want…” he trailed off and brought a hand up to his face, touching his reddened cheeks self-consciously.

Ajax left a kiss on Zhongli’s jaw, a silent encouragement.

“Zhongli, I love you. I will never judge you.” Another kiss on the shell of his ear.

He let out a shuddering breath. “While it’s in our nature to breed, it’s common for my kind to want the same in return as well. This desire can sometimes be fuelled by the presence of a compatible mate.”

Zhongli could see the cogs turning in Ajax’s mind already, making sense of everything he had just said.

“So…” Ajax leaned forwards to put the tray by the foot of the bed, the glass clinking as they settled. “You’re saying that while you adore doting after me, there’s something Neuvilette can offer that I can’t? Something you crave?”

Zhongli let out a choked gasp as Ajax climbed over him to straddle his hips, pushing their hips together, grinding down.

“Ah, I can see the appeal, honestly,” he said, bracing his hands on Zhongli’s chest, thumbs running over his nipples, hips moving sweetly to brush their lengths together teasingly.

“I don’t need it, Ajax,” Zhongli said, voice wavering with newfound arousal. Ajax looked beautiful above him, taking what he wanted when he wanted, using him however he pleased. “I have you, and I love you, and that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“But,” Ajax’s hips came to a stop and he arched forwards, all lithe and lean muscle, and practiced balance. “I can imagine it, Zhongli. You taking me, filling me with both of your cocks, and him – ah – filling you from behind, taking your pleasure, but knowing he can never be yours. Not in the way that we are each other’s.”

“Who would we be, to deny ourselves the delicacies Fontaine has to offer?”

-------> Fic Tags: @halfwizardprincess @randomness-fandomness12

@aristotels

[fancyrat4cotl]

The temple was dark in the night. The moon's light made the white marble gleam with a silvery sheen. A tall figure was alone at the altar with hands pressed together and head bowed before a regal statue of a dragon-like form of a sheep.

Something manifested in the walkway, the shadows peeled back as if afraid, or perhaps bowing with reverence to the God of Death.

On silent hooves, they glided over to their worshiping disciple. The feline at the altar chanted an ancient language in a deep, rugged voice. He donned a shredded veil. It is the same veil he had when he wore when he was still a God. Thin strips of black fabric partially covered his face, hardly hiding it, but succeeded in concealing his third eye.

"Narinder, it is late, surely you're tired by now. Come meet me, I have to tell you something." Lamani whispered. Narinder turned, his third eye closed, and threw the hood on his cloak over his head.

"What is it, Lamb?" Narinder sighed, stoic and unemotional as ever. His stride was graceful. With sleek, dark fur and faithful red eyes, Lamani was always fascinated with the cat. So much so, they had forgotten what they wanted to say to him, so their mind spoke for them.

"I… love you-" It was an accident, a slip of the tongue. Lamani immediately realized what they had said out loud and clamped their mouth shut, gritting their teeth. That was not what they had meant to say at all, where had it come from?

To say Narinder was taken aback would be an understatement. His body went rigid as he lept backwards. All three crimson eyes were wide and disbelieving. His golden crescent moon earrings swayed back and forth as his ears swung back.

"Love?" the cat scoffed, his tone harsh with scorn. "You, who took everything from me, dare even suggest I might be something more than you already forced me to be?" The Lamb loved to torture him, he felt, unaware of Lamani's true feelings.

"I am your disciple. I am the head of your faith. I am a witness to your rise to divinity. You keep me alive only to torment me, using me as a puppet in your grand design."

But even as the words left his lips, he felt a twinge of something unfamiliar stirring within him—a flicker of doubt, perhaps? The memories of Lamani visiting him during his imprisonment lingered in the back of his mind.

He could almost see the truth reflected in the depths of the young God's eyes—a truth too potent to be denied. Then again, the lamb had always had a gift for manipulating followers. It was needed to be a sufficient cult leader, after all.

Before Lamani dethroned him, the little lamb had formed a connection with him, or so he thought. Lamani's betrayal was the catalyst to shutting out any and all affection from then on. For a moment, he had felt a feeling unlike any other every time he gazed upon the soft, blood stained wool each time Lamani perished in combat.

When they first started their crusades, Lamani was not yet used to the pain from each demise. The image of the poor, shaking creature standing before him had died over and over in his name. And, sometimes, after a particularly violent end, Narinder would lift the delicate Lamb in his skeletal hand, cradling them in his palm until their shivering ceased.

But now, their positions had swapped. Narinder may be immortal and have been given some powers by the lamb, but he still had a fragile mortal body.

The first death was the worst. The Lamb had revived them in their realm, away from the prying eyes of their followers. He had awoken in the palm of a massive hand with a forest of sharp teeth and horns glistening from above.

They mocked him, he truly believed that Lamani was punishing him, or at least taking out his anger on him for the elimination of their kin or the centuries of servitude to him.

A thousand years and multitudes of betrayals from those he cared for had caused him to subconsciously build a wall around his heart, a heart that truly longed to be loved. His body was free of chains, but not his mind.

It didn't matter now, and he felt nothing now, or, until the night Lamani accidentally confessed their love. There was something deep down in his chest that had been absent for centuries.

As he stood glaring and motionless, Lamani's ears pinned against their head and cheeks flushed. They hid their snout in their cloak. The sudden movements softly jingled their bell.

"I will leave now. Do as you please." Unable to remain any longer, Lamani vanished into the darkness from whence they came, leaving Narinder alone in the cathedral.

He dragged his feet back to the draconid sheep statue and fell to his knees, his chest was aching and he couldn't understand why. The moon was dipping into the horizon now, and the faint luminance glittered through the red stained glass.

He lifted his chin and spread his arms out, as if waiting for an embrace. Blood rushed through his skull and ears as his lungs burned. He felt faint, and it was hard to breathe. The agony of it all constricted his very soul.

Bathing in the moonlit sanctuary, his mind kept repeating God's words. Love him? Did they? There was a faint echo, the longing of a connection that he had sworn to himself to never make again.

He would continue his quiet worship for the rest of the night. Narinder closed all his eyes in silent prayer, his desires a battleground. But in that moment of quiet surrender, he felt the wall around his heart crumble down.

This is Part 1.

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