#and only stops when Claude got it

[raggydollsscreenshots]

Posting screenshots from The Raggy Dolls every day until ITV puts it on ITVX: Day 113:

[tstain-is-an-idiot]

Claude and Lucy.

That's it. That's the post.

[temporaryrose200]

✩My Soon-to-be husband✩

✟pairing: Claude X Fem Reader

✟genre: Yandere

✟warning: Yandere, mention of murder, keeping someone under their own will.

✟scenario

✟fandom: Who Made Me A Princess

✟summary: Weeks of searching for a way back to you world was becoming was becoming slimmer and slimmer. A week before your wedding day, Claude calls for you.

✟a/n: This is another part to this headcanon I made a while back. If you haven’t read part one, you should!:)

Narrow eyes scanned the bookshelves of the palace library, desperately trying to find a book. A book of magic to be precise. Having only been staying at the palace for a month now, you had been desperately trying to find some way back to your world. In only a week, you would married to that demon man, Claude. As soon as you arrived to the palace that day, Claude had wanted the wedding to take place the next day, obviously scared about this information, you begged the emperor to wait a month or so to at least let you settle. After a bit of persuading, he finally agreed, unknowingly giving you time to find a way out of this nightmare. But as days passed, escaping began to feel hopeless.

Picking up one of the many books on the shelf, you quickly skimmed through, eyes searching for certain words. Like many other times though, nothing came up and with a frustrated sigh, you closed the book and stuffed it back onto the shelf. Having been in this library every chance you got, you had nearly been through every single spell book the palace had to offer and nothing came up!

Hearing the sound of the door opening, heavy footsteps followed suit, you had a slight inkling feeling who it was. “What is it now Felix?” You questioned, eyes continuing to scan the dark oak shelf. The tall crimson red-haired guard was either here for two reasons. Reason one: To check up on you and see if you haven’t escaped or planning an escape, and then reason two: To call for you…

A shudder went down your spine at the thought of seeing that cold-hearted emperor, praying to the gods for it to be the first option. “I apologise for disturbing you Miss [name], but his highness has summoned you” Felix spoke softly. Glaring down at your clenched fist, you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Claude didn’t care if he had to order someone to drag you to him, as long as you’re brought to him without a single scratch on your body. And he will check. So not wanting to put another poor guard through what happened the last time you refused, you obligated. Carefully stepping down the ladder steps, Felix under you making sure you don’t accidentally fall. Reaching the final step, the redheaded guard with a firm grip on your wrist, guided you down. Feet now on the ground, you and the Royal guard made your way out of the comfort of the library to the vicious lion’s den.

Following slowly behind with Felix leading the way, you could feel the eyes of passing servants go by, pity filled in their eyes. You tried to ignore them, but soon it became impossible when they began mumbling to one another. Muttering softly about the “disappearance” of your maid. But you know, everyone knows that she didn’t disappear! It was Claude who murdered that poor girl…

Finally stopping in front of a pair of white doors, Felix stepped forward and knocked lightly but still louder enough for someone to hear. It was dead quiet, nobody answered and you let out a relieved sigh. Felix knocked again, this time louder, waiting for some kind of response. You tried hiding your excitement, you really did but it was too damn hard. You didn’t have to see that monster. Backing away from Felix, you gave the redhead a shrug with a fake pout. “Aww, looks like he’s not in.” The pout then morphed into a giddy expression and you waved over to the confused guard. “Well, see you.”

About to dash off, Felix grabbed your wrist, lightly pulling you toward him. “He could just be sleeping” Felix reminded. Placing a hand on the door handle, the man opened it. Your breath hitched and you cringed watching the door eerily open, reminding you of the horror movie you used to watch before you were trapped in this nightmare of a world. Eyes pleaded for Felix to let you go back to the library, you would have got on your hands and knees if it wasn’t for the royal guard pushing you into the dimly lit room. “You’re his fiancée, I don’t think he would mind if you woke him up and anyway, he did ask for you.” And with that the oblivious man closed the door, leaving you all alone inside the lion’s den.

Thoughts plagued your head, eyes scanning the room for any sign of Claude. Checking the comfy plush bed of your soon-to-be husband, you see no Claude. Wanting to believe that he had more pressing matters to attend to, you knew that hope was just a pipe dream. Even if his kingdom was on the brink of war, the emperor would still make time for you, and probably (definitely) even start a war for you. It horrifies you to the core to think a man like him could be that obsessed with someone. A man who killed his own flesh and blood…

E/C eyes landed on a nearby figure laying peacefully on an elegant white and golden couch. Approaching the man you would find yourself captivated by the sight. Even if he was a horrible man, you do have to admit that Claude was breathtaking to look at, though you would never say that out loud. A bit of his golden locks lay against his face, covering his soft smooth face. You don’t know what compelled you to do this next thing, moving a hand towards him, you push a few locks of hair away from his face and behind his ear. In this state, he looks peaceful. You found it weirdly cute, making you forget all the bad stuff he’s done to you and the people around him. An emperor that would kill thousands in your name now reminded you of a sleeping child. But soon that would change. Not wanting to disturb him, you pushed yourself up and as you were about to move away, a hand grabbed your arm with a tight squeeze. “Where do you think you’re going?” A chill went down your spine and you mentally cursed at yourself. How long had he been awake, was he really asleep or was it some sort of trick?!

The tight grip on your wrist would surely leave a bruise. Stuttering out a response, you tried coming up with something to get you got off this shitty situation. “Umm, W-well you see…I um-“ Becoming pissed with all this stuttering and stumping, Claude rolled his diamond eyes pulling you onto him. Falling onto his chest, an arm slithered around your waist. You knew fighting him would be futile and it would only anger him, so you stayed, your head resting against his chest, hearing the light thumps of the emperor’s heartbeat. Tears welling up In your beautiful E/C eyes, sobs escaped from your mouth and salty tears stained the blonde clothes. Was this your life, to be the wife of this monster? You had a second chance at life, which not many people had and it was already going down the gutter.

Claude on the other hand ignored your cries, instead, he imagined a perfect life with you. Just the two of you together forever, maybe even a child, if Claude was kind enough to share you. Who knows what the future will hold…

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

so, we’ve seen Sebastian and Claude in pre-heat preparation and we’ve seen Sebastian when he’s in heat, but not Claude, soooo can I pretty please ask for a scenario or headcannons about what Claude in heat is like? With tying in his spider behavior and all?

Oh so I have a few of these! I combined these three since these seemed compatible to mix!

(Also Ty Anons I’m so glad you enjoyed em!

So far starters I don’t think he’d just come up to us like Sebastian, he’s the type to just lock himself in his room and try to jerk off until he’s satisfied. (Which doesn’t end the way he wants since his body is craving you know…a mate. He can ‘finish’ on his own just fine but it’s not as good) he leaves a majority of the work to the other servants and will avoid rooms your in unless, you’re alone.

(I got carried away!! Made it a lil weird while I took a break from kinktober! I hope it’s good!)

Claude (heat cycles, afab reader, demon forms, (demon form Claude has a weird flexible tentacle d!ck), Claude’s big flexible tongue, oviposposit!on, )

-

You were surprised to have Hannah greet you at the door to your bedroom. You expected it to be Claude, but she quickly informed you that Claude was ‘feeling under the weather’ which…only happens once a year for an entire week. You went on with your day, you were aware of what he goes through (thanks to the Triplets accidentally telling you while venting) and expected him to come to you if he needed ‘extra help’.

You’d slept with him before, there’s no reason for him to be shy when you’ve ridden his face and sucked his dick before, though it’s been three heats since you’ve first contracted him, you figure he knows what he’s doing. With Hannah you ended up ending the day early and you just went to your room, maybe you’ll sleep early tonight.

You heard the door click open without a knock, before you can say anything you distinctly feel eyes on you. Your desk faces away from the door so you don’t know whose watching you so…intently, you stand up ready to turn and confront them, but your instantly pushed against your desk.

You freeze and try to turn but the person doesn’t let you, arms wrap around your waist and your lifted up like you weigh nothing. You cant see the person but as soon as you feel them carrying you to the door, you kick, trying to get them to let go. “Drop me!” You yelled, hoping it was one of the triplets messing with you.

Whoever it is ignores you and you breathe to scream but a hand covers your mouth. “Please, Master, quiet. I’m t-taking you to my room.” It was Claude, his voice sounded strained and he wasn’t letting you turn to see him. “Sorry to grab you like this, just n-need you.”

You were unceremoniously thrown onto a bed and it took you a second to realize you weee in Claude’s room and on his bed…but there were webs all over the floor and walls, it took you a second to realize the silky sheets you were on weren’t in fact blankets, but finely woven webs. You recoiled at the sight and tried to move backwards to get off the bed but Claude sits behind you and blocks your path.

“Claude this is gross, I don’t want to be surrounded by webs while we-“ You didn’t get to finish before he’s pressed against you with a kiss and his tongue shoved itself down your throat. You jerk under him and writhe away enough to breathe before he’s between your legs. Now that you can see him you can see just how disheveled he looks.

His hair is a mess, his tie is loose and he barely has his clothes on right, you cant help but notice he forgot to even put on an undershirt. He’s removing your pants without even asking so you give him a harsh slap, he doesn’t even flinch. “Claude! What the hell? Don’t you know to ask first! You cant just take me from my room and expect sex!”

Claude seemed taken aback by that, though he seemed to realize what he just did as he bows his head. “I-I’m sorry Master. I-I just need you now, I didn’t t-think you’d care-“ He whines out stopping to adjust the visible arousal he’s trying to hide. “It’s too much to handle on my own, even if you just let me use your hand please-“

He whimpers out more things you don’t catch before you sit up and glance around. His room…looks very different even without the webs, his normally neat room is a mess and there’s broken furniture and you cant help but wonder if he broke it in frustration while trying to avoid getting you.

You show him mercy and undress for him, he follows suit instantly and you can see just how bad his heat is getting him. His cock is dripping pre onto the silk as soon as it’s free. “Lay down.” You order, moving aside so he could. You turned away from him and seated yourself onto his face, leaning down so you could grab his cock.

He whines against you and you feel his tongue drag against your entrance before slipping inside of you. He purred feeling your walls constrict around his tongue. The vibrations gave you a surprise jolt of pleasure. You in turn take the head of his cock into your mouth, gently sucking it to coax a more noise from him.

He visibly flinched upon you taking his arousal into your mouth. You adjust yourself to practically ride his tongue, rolling your hips and stroking the rest of his cock with quick uneven strokes. He bucks up, only for you to completely move away from his cock. “Don’t choke me on your dick.”

Claude whines and his toungue retreats as he lifts you enough of his face to talk. “I-I need to be inside you.” You take it into consideration before lowering yourself onto his face again. He whines in protest but allows his tongue to lap at your clit before slipping into you once more.

“Maybe if you help me get off I’ll help you.” You respond. Claude’s tongue drags along your insides, seemingly twisting inside you in search of your sweet spot. You didn’t need to help him, his tongue can reach everything inside of you with ease, he’s just so excited he keeps missing.

You grab his cock, teasingly ghosting over the head and rubbing the base. He bucks forwards, cock trembling in your grip as pre swells at the head. You squeeze the base, grinding down on his face, feeling him hiss in response. His cock suddenly writhes out of your grip, when you look up, you can see a shadowy haze over Claude as his body shifts.

His cock is more tentacle like in this form, twisting and nearly tying itself in a not as it searches for stimulation. You can feel his firm under you, the warmth providing you comfort, after you had him ‘satiated’ you were definitely using him as a pillow (or maybe a blanket) while you rest.

You can feel him using his extra limbs to rub your breast, massage your clit and hold your hips close to his face. He purrs when your hands return to his cock, stroking it in tube with his own movements. He trembles with every few strokes, cock twisting in your grip causing you to tighten said grip.

“Good,like that.” You praise, earning a deep purr in response, his hips bucking forwards. Your thighs nearly snap shut on him when he finally finds your sweet spot. You don’t need to tell him, your moan lets him know instantly and he’s hitting it repeatedly. To reward him you swallow down his cock and before you can suck it, it wraps around your tongue causing you to gag.

You spat it out but Claude still mewled, hips trembling as he tried to stay still. You huff as you feel your own climax reaching you. His cock weeps as your hot breath teased it. You don’t touch him as causes you a blissful orgasm, you’re legs going limp as you collapse ontop of him.

You’re panting, face centimeters away from his raging erection, panting directly onto it.

You do intend to help him with it but you need to catch your breath. You watched in amusement as it seemingly stiffened more with each breath until it was so swollen it couldn’t do anything but twitch. It brushed against your cheek, then Claude practically screamed, completely muffled by your sex.

He cums against your cheek, just short of your mouth as he trembles, body going completely stiff. You get off him, adjusting yo place your weight in his lap, getting his attention. Four pairs of eyes watch you grab his cock, taking it to your entrance and lowering yourself on his still orgasming cock.

He whines, his shaft sensitive as you used his knees to brace yourself before riding him with no care. Claude mewled happily, bucking up a few times before he’s limp under you, cock spilling the last of his mess into you. “T-th-ank you M-My Queen.”

“I’m not fucking done yet, I love it when your dick is like this!” You slam down with each thrust, squeezing his still hard shaft while he recovered. His heat kept him excited, allowing you to use his stiff cock like a dildo while he trembled and recovered from days of aching finally being taken care of.

He was thrilled you let him finish inside of you, he’d let you ride him till he’s unconscious if it meant he could finish inside of you. His swollen shaft ached with every stroke, feeling like it’s going to burst while stimulate him.

You pause open feeling what seemed like his cock expanding inside of you.

You jump off him quickly, startled, when you look down you see your suspicions confirmed. Claude desperately whimpered, cock bobbing as you undoubtedly ruined his second orgasm…

A small, circular swollen spot moved from the base of his cock to the tip, it seeming was stuck, as Claude quickly stroked himself, noticeably squeezing himself from base to tip to force his cum to push whatever it was out.

The entire time he’s sobbing and whining, if you didn’t know any better you’d think you broke something down there…

You finally get to see the object nearly a minute later, it finally emerges fro his swollen cock, popping out with a ‘squelch’ that made you cringe. The way it forced his cock open looked painful, though he continued stroking himself feverishly, bucking into his own hand.

You pick up the object an realize, it’s an egg.

You look up and see another small bump working it’s way up his still hard cock. You examine the egg in your hand, it’s maybe the size of a golf ball, a little pressure made it give, your certain you could crush it easily. You hold it in your hand, watching Claude continue to try to milk the rest of his clutch out, without the cum aiding his shaft, it was difficult, and you noticed, there were a few at the base of his cock.

You decide to experimentally help him, pulling the lotion (or lube you couldn’t really see) from the night stand, pouring it on the engourged head of his cock. You practically squeeze it into his shaft and your hand is suddenly stroking him, his own hands pushed out of the way.

“D-don’t stroke d-down!” He squeaked out, legs shaking as they were pressed together. “I-it hurts, just, stroke up, squeeze, like I-I-it’s..” He paused thinking of an example. “T-tooth paste? T-they are d-durable b-but there’s no room t-to push them d-down.”

“Even in your heat you wish to lecture me?” Nonetheless you do as advices and he melts. He’s purring, cock spitting out three more eggs, you are about to stop but he bucks up. “Wait, there’s more?”

Claude nods. “I c-cant tell how many, I-there was no p-pressure t-they are supposed t-to come f-faster…” You let the eggs pool on his stomach, the white eggs standing out against the black fur.

He’s whimpering and just shy of thrashing you off of him as another couple of eggs started working their way up his aching cock. They come out quite quickly as his cock has recovered enough to build up pre again.

You are left with eight eggs, you notice his cock still hasn’t softened but you put the eggs aside first. “Still got a few left in you?” You tease, getting ontop of him again. He nods, too tired to respond. “Tell me when you are close or I’m forcing every one of these eggs back into your cock.”

He shudders at the thought, cock jumping inside you.

[weeping-statue]

Oml I love your work sm, I’ve been reading you’re blog for a while and I’m obsessed 😭

If you end up having the time, may I request Naib, Ithaqua, Joseph and Richard—or just the first two if that’s too many! 🤍—with a s/o who was almost fatally injured in their matches and sort of comatose but eventually woke up? Feel free to ignore this if this is too much, thank you for your time~

Aww thank you so much my love<3 you’re so sweet!!! I didn’t really think that many people liked my stuff so it’s amazing to hear that they do! I try my best on these things and I hate when it takes me years to post something out.

I’m working on another fic that’s similar to this for naib so he won’t be included but I hope you’ll take Norton instead

Ithaqua, Joseph, Richard, and Norton with a fatally injured reader who finally wakes up!

———————————————————————

Basic background first before the good stuff<3

You were supposed be decoding, out of the way, and out of danger.

You weren’t supposed to take the hit. You weren’t supposed to be here.

It wasn’t fair when your body fell to the ground, blood splattering out underneath you into a pool of crimson liquid.

It wasn’t fair when he called out to you, and you didn’t answer, only to feel your pulse fading.

It wasn’t fair that he had to carry your limp body to Emily’s office in a panic, begging her to help.

And it wasn’t fair when she had said you might not wake up.

Ithaqua

He couldn’t sit by you the entire time you were in bed. It just reminded him of his mother.

He didn’t want to put himself through more with those terrible memories.

He’d visit you in the morning and at night.

Kissing you goodnight and kissing you good morning

Like some strange routine.

When he got the news you were awake he had dropped everything, but he didn’t run, he just had to make himself believe you were okay first.

He had to make sure this wasn’t some sick joke, and that he’d wake up in his bed only to be told you didn’t make it.

Stopping in the doorway, looking at you who seemed to be looking back at him with those surprised eyes, that beautiful smile he loved etched onto your face.

He knew after a blow like that there would be some damage, a large scar going from the side of your cheek and up to your forehead would forever be a reminder of his fuck up.

He feels terrible and sometimes it’s hard to look at you without guilt seeping in.

He doesn’t want to be like this but it’s his way of working through it.

He loves you a lot, he has dreams of marrying you and building a home far away. But now those dreams are plagued with the possibility that he’ll accidentally become the monster he tried to tell himself he wasn’t.

Joseph

Alcohol.

A lot of it.

Bottles and bottles of it by your bed side.

He refused to leave you. He couldn’t live with the fact he might of killed the only person he loved more than anything.

The only person that made this bearable. And they might be gone.

He would drink himself to sleep and he would drink the moment he opened his eyes.

Not a lot of people ever saw him cry, but now? Everyone did.

When he had a moment of soberness he’d look over and break down.

Joseph would barely shower, having to be dragged away from you and told to clean himself up, only to repeat that process.

During one of the times he was forced to bathe, he had stumbled back in, bottle in hand, only to be met with your disappointed gaze.

He knows how much you hated when drinks, and because of that barely touched liquor anymore.

“You said you’d cut back on drinking.” Your voice broke the silence.

Joseph rushed over to your side, falling onto his knees and sobbing. “Stop it. Now’s no time for lecturing. I thought I had killed you. I thought you weren’t going to make it. I thought you’d be like Claud, and leave me all alone again.”

Your hand makes its way to his cheek, “I’m okay. I’d never leave you alone, I promise. These things were bound to happen. But I’ll be more careful.”

He nodded leaning into your touch.

Richard

He’s fuming mad. And of course concerned.

He was made to do one thing, protect, and he couldn’t even save the one he loves?

“What bullshit.” He’d say through gritted teeth. Watching over your body, breathing raggedly. His hands smoothing out your hair to look nice with a not so gentle hand. He’s holding himself back.

He believes this is partially your fault. You should have been out of the way. Doing your job and letting him rescue.

But no, you had to disobey, you just couldn’t listen.

He’ll look like he doesn’t want to be there when his facade slips around the others, but he really does. He hates the fact that you have a terrible possibility over your head.

And he can’t control it.

He’d make sure you look stunning even in your condition. He’d brush your hair, and make sure you’re somewhat clean. Because when you wake up he’s going to want to kiss you, remind you of the way it should be.

When he’s informed by Emily that you’ve made a recovery, hes immediately speed walking towards your room.

He wanted to be the first thing you saw, but oh well. He’ll have you back in tip top shape soon.

“Richard!” You exclaimed, reaching your hand out to him.

He takes it, kissing the back, “___, my dear. You gave me quite the scare.”

“I know.. I shouldn’t have been so foolish but-”

His lips are against yours before you can finish. It’s passionate and deep with his feelings. You can tell how much he missed you, how worried he was.

“Foolish or not, you’re still here, with me. And that’s all that matters.” He says softly, loving yet serious eyes looking into yours.

Norton

Out of everyone, him and Joseph are the two absolute messes.

Joseph might be a bit worse with his drinking but Norton becomes violent and agitated.

He’s freaking out, shoving people out of the way with more strength than necessary just to get to you.

He wasn’t there to help, maybe, if he was you’d be okay.

The possibility’s are running through his head and causing him to become anxious and angry.

Fools gold is right there behind him. Sitting in a corner silently waiting for you to awake.

Fools golds matches are either quick surrenders or he’s chairing everyone immediately.

Norton doesn’t know how to comfort himself and doesn’t particularly want his hunter version to even touch him let alone tell him nice things so he’s just suffering until you wake up.

This man actually wouldn’t leave you, even if he was dirty because he’s been like this before. It doesn’t bother him.

He had watched you wake up, your eyes being blinded by the bright light of day.

He was silent until you noticed him,

“Norton-?” You began, but the minute you spoke he jumped on you. Holding you tightly.

“Don’t you pull this shit again. You.. don’t know how worried I was.” He mumbled into your neck.

A lot of apologies were given that day and fools gold was right behind you when Norton had to go.

He may not have liked his other self but he shared the same love for you like he did. And if playing guard dog for a bit would ensure everyone to be happy and safe, then sure.

———————————————————————

I fear I only like Richard’s..

[montimer]

Claude Frollo x Knight!reader

Gn!reader, oneshot

Warning: smutty but i'll put a line where it starts

You were his loyal knight. He trusted you deeply. And you never disobeyed him or even hesitated about any of his request.

He loved you for your loyalty and how brave you were. There was just this one problem. He didn't just admire you for those quality's. He got lost in your eyes and the way you smiled at him rather often.

A smug smile always formed on his lips whenever you replied with a "Yes sir!"

And when your attention was on someone else, well it made him very upset. Especially if you looked happy talking to the person who wasn't him.

But he refused the idea of being in love. 'No there is just no way, i must be wrong' he told himself.

He found himself thinking about you at late nights. At first it was just him worrying. But soon he started to rewind memories. Memories about you talking to him, smiling at him, calling out to him.

'This is all their fault' he thought to himself. 'You're the reason i can't get any sleep' he complained.

Earlier in the afternoon he couldn't stop staring at you and when you pointed it out he said that you are falsely accusing him. Which you responded with a "Im sorry sir. It's just that you look tired, is everything alright?"

He stared at you unblinking for a second (which kind of spooked you out). "I just- had a problem with the fireplace, yes yes thats it" he said it strangely but not enough for you to suspect anything. Plus you didn't wanted to question the judge anymore.

"I see, well if there's anything i can help with, you know where to find me" you said it smilingly with a wink. You didn't mean anything by it, just wanted to seem nice but he almost choked on the air.

He didn't said anything, and after coming back to reality he quickly gave you a nod.

'He probably didn't get much sleep' you thinked.

"Well im off! Hope ur majesty sleeps well tonight." And with that you jumped on your horse and he watched you until you disappeared.

Back to the present he was still wide awake. He wished he could just finally sleep and get a good rest.

After moving around for a couple of more seconds he found himself in a comforting position. And soon after finally fall asleep.

_______________________________

In his dream, even there you couldn't leave his mind.

Plus you were laying so close to him. And your hands roamed around his body, complimenting him, asking him if it feels good.

"Oh Judge, you are the greatest" you said it seductively, stroking his ego (and his body)

He couldn't respond, only moans and whimpers came out of his mouth.

Your hands find their ways to his private area and he felt his heart skip a beat.

He was a blushing mess at this point.

Your voice, your hand, your beauty was making him go crazy. How could he not give in?

Your figure took his face in their hands and pulled him in for a kiss. When you pulled away he was trying to catch his breath. He never felt this good before. He never wanted to give in to lust, to sin. But here he is, letting you take control.

His hands moved to touch you but you grabbed them and pinned him down. Now on top of him.

"I saw the way you were staring at me, taking a like to me huh sir?"

He was not sure how long he can handle this for.

He didn't quite know what or how to but he wanted some sort of release from the pleasure.

You started kissing his neck and nibbling on it. He felt something rush trough him.

He woke up and sit up fast, still panting, his face all red.

He felt a strange feeling in his pants. Little did he know he just had a wet dream.

After that he felt very embarrassed but also interested. He couldn't look you in the eye that day. He just stared at you, turning away with a slight blush when you looked at him.

But now he knew, that no matter what. He has to make you his.

'They will be mine, even if it takes for me to act a sin. It's their fault anyways, they must knew what they were doing to me, with the way they talk,act, and smile my way' he told himself many times.

And the judge does not give up so easily. So it's all on you. Will you go the easy or the hard way?

[murdrdocs]

age gap (r is 18+!); southern coded r; implied domestic violence; fingering MDNI 18+ w/ GARY JOHNSON

the scent of jealousy reeks back at the precinct and it’s fucking with gary’s mindset. he’s been off of his game lately, thrown for a loop since people have been questioning him. to put it short: he's getting sloppy.

he's staring at you more than he's listening to you. he's stuttering over his words, trying desperately to follow the script he's made up in his head.

"so ... uh." he clears his throat and adjusts his position. "how d'you want me to do it?"

how do you want him to do it? what kind of question is that?

he can feel claude and phil wincing in the van.

you don’t question it. you take a breath, and then you take a breather. gary—or grant, as you know him—watches your lips wrap around the straw in your sweet tea. his eyes dip for a second, settling on the red of your bra peeking out beneath your low cut white shirt.

he swallows as your lipstick leaves a mark behind on the paper straw and lifts his eyes just soon enough to meet your gaze.

“i…i think there should be a body. if it wouldn’t get you��us—into too much trouble. not havin’ a body just seems cruel. my momma deserves better. that’s why im doin’ this.”

you speak slowly, meticulously, as if you’re holding off tears. when you sniff, gary pulls a tissue from the dispenser to his left and hands it to you. you wipe under your eyes, uncaring of the mascara you leave smudged behind.

"okay. we're doing this for your momma, yeah?"

you nod, lips pulled into a thin smile. "yeah."

gary shouldn't do this. he's done it once, and the backlash he got was heavy. he shouldn't do it again.

but you're young. you care about your family. he sees the bruise along your wrist and he can only imagine the ones your mother has, likely more severe if he's following the picture you painted for him.

you've told him that you refuse to finish school when she's with him. you refuse to do anything other than work and go home. it's not a life you should be living.

you don't want your stepdad killed. you want your mother liberated. you want liberation.

it wouldn't be right for gary to let you incriminate yourself.

when you turn to the side and reach into your purse, gary stops you. he gives you the spiel, the spiel he shouldn't be giving, but he stops you while you're ahead.

"listen, let's stay here. you can finish your pie and your sweet tea. and then after this, you promise me you'll get someone involved—someone else involved—and you'll get you and your momma out of that house. alright?"

you nodded and gave gary your word.

he paid the tab and left the diner after you.

he got shit for his choice. he defended you as best as he could. he saved two lives that time and then he put it in the past. grant, a good southern boy who said ma'am as pure instinct, was shelved.

until gary got a phone call.

not too far past eight, the summer sun starting to make its descend past the horizon. the cats are fed, gary's fed, his second episode of jeopardy! of the night is playing in the back and then his work phone buzzes against the coffee table. he doesn't have your contact saved, there was no reason to, so he doesn't answer the first time. he didn't know it was you. but when you call again, and he picks up this time, he regrets hitting the red button the first time around.

because you're crying. sniffling and gulping down breaths of air. he can hardly understand what's wrong. he has to ask you to repeat your plea to be picked up at least three times, and even then he's apprehensive.

he's not grant right now. he's gary. sitting on the couch, covered in cat hair, wearing his blue light glasses as he partially reads on his kindle. but you sound so pathetic and gary wants to help you so he slips on a pair of sweatpants and an old college sweatshirt that he thrifted just for grant (UT Austin) and in half an hour he's pulling up outside of your trailer and watching you slip out of a window and run to his car.

he doesn't have anywhere to take you. he asks you if you want to go to a friends place, his fingers nervously tapping against his steering wheel.

you sniffle and gary's taken back to the first time he met you. then, he was wearing a wire. he was sitting in the vicinity of cameras and other people. many things keeping him on his best behavior.

but now he's alone, in his car, with you. a you who has a friends place to go to, but you don't wanna go there yet. a you who asks to grab food from somewhere, but when you get there you sit in the car, unmoving. a you who leans across the console and presses your lips to gary's.

he's not gary anymore. he's never been gary to you, always grant, but right now he's not gary to himself, either.

gary wouldn't kiss a vulnerable younger girl in his car. gary wouldn't entertain the way you slip your tongue into his mouth. gary would shut this down, drop you off, and go home where he would wallow in self pity and copious amounts of guilt.

but grant indulges.

grant slides his seat back and taps his thighs. grant rests his hands on your hips when you straddle him. grant slips your shirt over your head and his hand down your shorts. grant gets you off with his fingers, kissing you through it all, taking in the salty taste of your tears as you let out wanton gasps into his mouth.

and grant drives you to your friends house, kisses your forehead, and tells you to call him if you need anything.

(later in the night when he's laying in his bed, gary barely has any regrets about it all)

[indigovigilance]

Continuity Errors

Crowley can stop time. We’ve noticed buggy things about time. Let’s talk about it.

I’m going to start with an overview of every time he has definitely frozen time in order to establish the mechanics of Crowley’s time-stopping power in the GO universe. Then, I’m going to talk about other events where Crowley may have stopped time, and it wasn’t (directly) shown to the audience.

or read this 3,500 word beast of a meta on Ao3

edit: if you're deciding whether or not to read this, check out the reblog notes!

Opening obligatory "do not put anything about this in Neil Gaiman's askbox"

Crowley freezes time locally, selectively exempting individuals

S1E2

In S1E2, Crowley freezes time at the corporate training ground to interrogate Mary Hodges, formerly Sister Mary Loquacious (played by Nina Sosanya, actor for Nina in S2). It may seem like she’s just hypnotized and time is progressing normally around all of them, but that isn’t the case. Immediately before Crowley hypnotizes Hodges, we can hear gunfire in the background; a few seconds before Hodges is released from the trance, we hear shouting and sirens. But during the time that Hodges is entranced, all we hear is three things: the dialogue, music, and what sounds like the ticking of a kitchen timer. 

We could do a little bit of extrapolation from the fact that the beginnings of gunshots and siren sounds are temporally very close together, especially depending on how we measure time. Crowley turns the paintball guns into deadly weapons at 36:59. Crowley freezes Mary Hodges at 38:47. A ticking sound starts the same moment. We also hear what we will come to recognize as the “pause time” sound, a sort of wobbly sound. The ticking sound seems to stop around… 40:07? Right before the line about lovely little toesy woesies? It’s unclear with the overlapping tracks. At 40:11 Crowley says “let’s go” and we can hear sirens in the background start now. Aziraphale then snaps his fingers and unfreezes Hodges at 40:17.

So during 191 seconds of screentime, 84 seconds of it was spent with time frozen, if I accept the ticking sound to be the indicator. If time was only frozen locally, meaning just the paintball grounds and not the nearest police station and roads leading to it, then emergency services had just over three minutes from the time the first live round was fired to arrival. If time was actually frozen globally except for Crowley, Azirarphale, and Hodges, then emergency services got there in 85 seconds, or less than a minute and a half. Maybe Britain is doing something wildly different than here idk but I think the more likely explanation for the event timing is that Crowley is only freezing time in a local bubble. The shooters stop shooting but the police are still driving towards them while Crowley and Aziraphale are interrogating an entranced Mary Hodges.

The case with Hodges is kind of confusing because the audience is presented with a false dichotomy between “frozen in time” and “hypnotized.” It’s actually both. Crowley has frozen time around the three of them, but Hodges, like Aziraphale, was exempt. It just so happens that she was also entranced at the same time, which explains as well why Aziraphale can release her from the trance, since our best evidence indicates that he can’t control time.

S1E3 & S2E3

In S1E3, Crowley freezes Jean Claude, the executioner at the Bastille. Immediately before, we can hear the guillotine, screaming and jeering outside the cell. As soon as Jean Claude is frozen, however (13:29, complete with wobble sound), there is complete background silence, except for the dialogue between our ineffable aristocrats. When Crowley restarts time, background noise restarts as well. This evidence indicates that Crowley froze time for the surrounding area as well as inside the cell.

In S2E3, Crowley freezes Mr. Dalrymple. We don’t have definitive information about how much of the rest of the world is affected since the scene takes place indoors on a quiet night and there are no external cues of time starting or stopping.

S1E6: Freezing Out Satan

In S1E6, not only are Crowley, Aziraphale, and Adam pulled out of the normal flow of time: it seems that they are also pulled out of normal space. They appear to be in an ethereal desert where we can see their wings, but we don’t actually know where they are. The way we enter, inhabit, and then exit this time-stop is completely different from any of the other three explicit timestop scenes: Crowley must use his whole body to summon the power to cast the miracle, they travel elsewhere, then he must use his crankshaft to exit the time-stop.

I take this to indicate that freezing time when Satan is near takes a lot more power than freezing time around Mary Hodges, Jean Claude, or Mr. Dalrymple. Presumably, the power a being has, the more power it takes to lock them out of a bubble to stopped time.

Time Stop Mechanics

Here are my key takeaways from analyzing these four scenes:

Crowley isn’t so much freezing all of time as pulling himself and Aziraphale (and sometimes Adam) out of the flow of time. The effort this takes is dependent on the entities that they are “pulling away” from. It is easy to pull away from humans, so much so that they don’t have to pull away very far and can occupy the same space in a bubble of paused time. When he is “pulling away” from Satan, however, he must pull away much further, all the way to another plane.

Crowley’s ability is so powerful that he can use it to escape Satan. He could use it to lock out other powerful beings, if he wanted to, but it would take a lot of effort.

Aziraphale, a being with power somewhere on the spectrum between human and Satan, could be frozen by Crowley’s powers. The fact that Aziraphale is still present and active during all of these scenes, unaffected by the time stop is only indicative of Crowley’s choice to exempt him, just as he does with a hypnotized Mary Hodges and Adam.

Crowley has stopped time on Aziraphale

In a previous post I have addressed the possible symbolic meaning behind the Honolulu Roast sign that suddenly appears behind Crowley in the S2E1 coffee shop scene. This addresses the symbolic meaning of Honolulu with respect to Aziraphale, but fails to address the “roast” part, which I have the opportunity to do now. I begin by establishing two premises:

Crowley loves Aziraphale and after 6,000 years knows him very well.

Crowley is a dick.

Crowley sits down at the table across from Aziraphale and asks him what the problem is. At this point, there is no “Honolulu Roast” sign behind him. The camera flips to Aziraphale as he (badly) tries to deny that there is any problem. When the camera flips back to Crowley, a “today’s special: Honolulu Roast” sign has appeared behind him.

What does Crowley do next?

Crowley roasts Aziraphale.

Crowley proceeds to read Aziraphale to filth, rattling off all his tells and putting him in his place for even daring to think that he could mislead Crowley about his internal emotional state.

While we’ve seen a lot more of his soft side this season, we cannot forget that the demon Crowley, at the end of the day, is a prick. He really did pause time just so that he could go get a chalkboard, write a pun on it, and hang it on the wall behind him like a display card for open mic night. He’s still going to help Aziraphale, of course. But he’s going to make fun of him first.

Let me reiterate: Crowley literally paused time, got up from the table, put up this sign, then sat back down in (as close to) exactly the same position (as possible) to fool Aziraphale into not noticing the pause, because this joke is entirely for Crowley’s own amusement. We have some cinematographic evidence of this besides just the sign itself: the lamp behind him has moved slightly, and the camera angle focusing on Crowley has changed. Literally, the left hand side of the frame gets cut off due to the repositioning. From a production perspective, this scene would have been shot all at the same time, so should not have changed angles. That said, they did a by-hand follow-in of Crowley walking in and sitting down, then switched to a dolly, but… I have faith that they could have matched the shot line-up practically pixel for pixel if they wanted to. All to say: changing the camera position before and after, alongside the other conspicuous changes, seems like it was a deliberate framing choice used to indicate that Crowley tried his best to get back into exactly the same position, but was just a little off.

But Crowley’s prank is troubling from a perspective of honesty and agency. Based on the way the dialogue progresses, it seems pretty clear that Aziraphale doesn’t know that he was frozen. Whether or not Crowley could freeze Aziraphale was beside the point until this scene where we learn that Crowley would, even for a really dumb reason like making a joke at Aziraphale’s expense.

Before moving on, I want to note that the sudden appearance of this sign could be characterized as a continuity error, even though it was the result of a deliberate action by an in-world character. Jettison your traditional understanding of “continuity error” as “production made a mistake.” In this universe, we can have continuity errors by virtue that Aziraphale is experiencing time as if it is continuous, not noticing that he functionally blacked out for a few minutes and that things have changed around him. This is not a show-level continuity error. This is an Aziraphale-level continuity error.

Crowley can reverse time

Credit where credit is due: it was this comment on the Ao3 version of my meta, The Erasure of Human!Metatron, that became an earworm that got me thinking specifically about Crowley's abilities:

So thank you, LoveIsLove &lt;3

Let’s go back to the Mary Hodges scene, or actually a few minutes before. Our ineffable idiots get shot by paintballs.

“Look at the state of this coat. I've kept this in tip-top condition for over 180 years now. I'll never get this stain out.”

“You could miracle it away.”

“Hmm… Yes, but… well, I would always know the stain was there. Underneath, I mean.”

Aziraphale finagles himself a favor without ever actually asking for it. Full points, princess. But let’s examine the actual content of the dialogue. This cannot be a complete 100% bluff; Aziraphale is not going to tell a straight lie to Crowley that they both know is false about the respective nature of their powers. It must be the case that there is some truth to this statement. There is a fundamental difference between what Aziraphale can do about the paintball stain and what Crowley is actually going to do about it. Furthermore, what Crowley does is something different than a miracle.

Crowley then blows on the stain, it disappears, and Aziraphale looks quite pleased. Yes, yes, he cajoled Anthony J Acts of Service Crowley into doing his signature move, but also, he’s genuinely thankful that Crowley did something for him that he couldn’t do for himself, because miracles don’t work like that. Notably, Crowley doesn't snap his fingers or make any other gesture that we normally associate with miracles, and we don’t hear the miracle sound, which is further evidence that this is not a miracle, but something different.

If you haven’t already, please read my meta entitled Jimbriel, Satan, the Book of Life, and what it means for Crowley. It explains in depth and with evidentiary support my theory about how erasure works in the Good Omens universe. The Cliff’s notes version is that erasing something, whether it be a name from the Book of Life or a paintball from a coat, is akin to erasing a pencil mark on paper; it’s technically gone but you’ll always know it was there. Underneath.

What Crowley has done, then, is not erasing the paintball stain.

He’s reversed it.

When he blows on the paintball stain, he is reversing time in a microcosm of the universe, truly making it so that the paintball never hit the jacket. In a world full of rubber erasers, Crowley has the only Control-Z. When things are “erased” by the Book of Life, they are changed, but when Crowley reverses something, they never happened (making Beelzebub’s description of the Book of Life actually a more accurate description of Crowley’s power). It is something unique that Crowley can do that Aziraphale can’t, and we haven’t seen any evidence of any other celestial being pausing or reversing time. Please feel free to reblog with links to relevant meta if I’m wrong about that.

In true Neil Gaiman style, Crowley using this power to do something mundane like get rid of paintball paint was an incredibly benign and subtle way to indicate that Crowley has an immense, untapped power that we have not yet seen him use for any major purpose. 

I repeat: we didn’t see him use it. Because usually, like Aziraphale, we the audience are exempt from the time freeze, and we get to watch what happens. But this time, we were frozen out with Aziraphale.

Clock Theory revisited: a reinterpretation of “continuity error”

A summary of clock theory

Neil Gaiman’s ask and answer on clock theory

Neil Gaiman responded to an ask about the clock jumping forward from 9:25 to 9:40 before and after the kiss with a single sentence: “It’s a continuity error, I’m afraid.”

In the usual manner, Neil is not lying, but he is relying on you making an incorrect interpretation of his seemingly straightforward and innocuous but actually ambiguous and incredibly meaningful statement. As I stated with regards to the Honolulu Roast chalkboard sign, do not interpret “continuity error” as “production made a mistake.” Interpret “continuity error” as “Aziraphale believes that his experience of time is in lockstep with the actual flow of time and doesn’t realize that 11 minutes passed while he was frozen.”

Let’s consider the evidence:

Image at timestamp 41:04 “[Hold that thought!]” the clock reads 9:25

Image at 45:04 “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can go off together, then we can” the clock still reads 9:25

Image at 47:56 the clock now reads 9:40. 

Image at 48:14 the clock reads 9:40

There are two four-minute gaps, from the perspective of the viewer, and we have views of the clock face at both ends of each gap.

Gap 1, from 41:04 to 45:04, the clock hands do not move at all, nor do they in any of the intervening shots.

Gap 2, from 45:04 to 47:56 (or 48:14, as you prefer), the clock hands move 15 minutes.

The Occam’s razor, Doylian explanation for why the clock hands don't move from 41:04 to 45:04 is that the clock is a prop. It does not have any timekeeping mechanism, the hands don’t move unless some human being opens up the glass, reaches in there, and manually adjusts it. They weren’t going to interrupt filming this moving scene to move the clock hands minute by minute, so it seems pretty plausible that the fact that it doesn’t move is just an artifact of production limitations.

The Watsonian explanation, which I do not favor, is that Crowley has frozen time for just the two of them. They are in a microcosm all their own. If true, this would have an abundance of implications, such that they are actually free to speak to each other freely, which they don’t. So I feel like with that alone, we can set this aside, but I’m open to being convinced otherwise.

If we accept the “clock is a prop” explanation for Gap 1, it doesn’t really hold for Gap 2 that they moved it a full fifteen minutes. So much care and attention to detail was given for all other parts of this show; I don’t realistically believe that a production staff member moved the hands a random amount. The music carries us from Crowley’s exit to Metatron’s entrance seamlessly, yet more time seems to have passed in-world than on-screen. There are two possible explanations:

There was more material that was supposed to be filmed to account for 15 minutes that got cut

We are supposed to figure out that there’s some “Greek play” style shenaniganery afoot

I will debunk explanation #1 with simply this: David’s contact lenses would sometimes rotate so that the slit pupils were not vertical. This error was fixed by VFX in post.

You might assume, when watching Good Omens, that Crowley’s serpent-like eyes are created using contact lenses. Or perhaps you’d presume they’re CGI. Actually, they’re a mix of both.

“The CGI versions were usually because the contact lenses had swiveled in David’s eyes … and we had to fix it,” says Mackinnon.

If they could fix Crowley’s eyes in post, there is absolutely no reason to expect that they couldn’t or wouldn’t have fixed the clock hand positions in post, especially if it was someone’s job to reach in there and change the positions to try to maintain set continuity in the first place. Additionally, there is deliberate use of clocks to symbolize various themes across both seasons. A Doylian error like this is not something that would have been overlooked and survived into publication.

So we are left with explanation #2. Time has passed that we, the viewers, don’t observe. What was happening during that time that we missed? More importantly, who knows that this time has passed? Aziraphale doesn’t seem to, and it’s unclear what the Metatron does or doesn’t know.

Some fans have posited that the Metatron is doing the time manipulations, but canonically, the only entity we have observed manipulate time is Crowley. We assume the Metatron is powerful because the angels are all afraid of him, but we’ve never actually seen him do anything, and so have no primary evidence for this. All over, he’s got some big “pay no attention to the man behind the curtain” Wizard of Oz vibes happening; I’m not convinced he could miracle his way out of a wet paper bag, and there’s a chance that in Season 3 we’ll find out that he’s all bluff. Not so with Crowley.

My hypothesis is that Crowley froze Aziraphale and everybody else for a one block radius, including the Metatron, and did something important in the bookshop before it lost its protection. Please see my meta on Sovereignty, Citizenship, and the Bookshop for an evidence-based argument on why the bookshop was the only place in the universe that Crowley could have safely hidden something. Since Aziraphale is no longer the head of an independent embassy, whatever Crowley was keeping safe in there isn’t safe anymore, and needs to be moved. Universe time continued to pass and the clock reflects that, but Aziraphale and the Metatron aren’t aware that they were paused.

Which also gives us a new interpretation for the kiss.

The Kiss, revisited

Crowley didn’t want to send Aziraphale a message.

Crowley needed a plausible cover for the immense effort it was going to take him to freeze time against Aziraphale and the Metatron that he knew was standing outside.

How do I know he knew?

No nightingales.

Juliet. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;

Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:

Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Romeo. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,

No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks

Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:

Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day

Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.

I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

No nightingales could be the end of a romance. I argued as much in my inaugural meta just six weeks ago (and what a six weeks it has been, people!) But “no nightingales” could also be a secret signal to two people who have a unique bond through Shakespeare that Crowley has realized he is not safe, and he needs to leave, and he’s trying to tell Aziraphale that without letting their spectator in on the message.

Now he has to stop time to secure whatever item he’d been keeping safe in the bookshop. But keeping Satan at bay required him to lunge upwards, using his whole body to freeze time. He can’t get away with anything like that here in the bookshop, that would give up the ruse.

But what if he lunged at the person everyone knows he’s in love with and violently kisses them on the mouth, his entire body tense with the effort of freezing time in the presence of two ethereal beings? No one would notice the difference, or think anything nefarious of it; a Class A surreptitious time-stop.

One last crackpot theory.

Aziraphale knows what Crowley did. Well, he knows that he froze time, and for the first time realizes that Crowley has locked him out, and that he used the kiss as a cover. The violation of agency, trust, and their romantic bond are all breaking across him in the instant that time restarts, after Crowley has gone away for 11 minutes and returned to almost, but not quite, the same position inside Aziraphale’s arms. It is an intimate act that Aziraphale is fully tuned into, and for the first time, he’s noticing the continuity errors.

His horror-filled expression is one of broken trust. But his bond to Crowley is too strong for even this to break it. He knows that whatever reason Crowley had to pull this trick on him, it must have been a good one. It must have been to protect him.

“I forgive you.”

***

One more completely crackpot theory based on the Gavin Finney interview at The Ineffable Con last weekend.

The camera was supposed to circle them. Finney says that this was to show that they are the center of their universe, and their world is spinning.

Okay, okay. But could it not also have represented the spinning of clock hands? I’m just saying.

Closing obligatory "do not put anything about this in Neil Gaiman's askbox"

Find my entire collection of metas here

[sofiafantasies]

Imagine: Jack seeing you for the first time but you can’t see him

Disclaimer; This is inspired by @cutiepieloves131

It had been three years since Jack became a guardian. And he had to admit, it was fun. Ironically enough he was the guardian of fun. But the spirit of winter.

He spreaded snow and frost everywhere. From France to the small town of Burgess. At first, it was strange to be a guardian, helping children, and being seen.

Usually, children were the only ones who could see him. Well, children who bealived in him. Which weren't a lot. But as the years went by a lot more came. And he got a decent amount of believers.

It was very strange. He would just be walking by making it snow and children would come up to him. It was surprising but he got used to it.

He would fly over the world when he didn't have to bring winter. But when he was, he's favorite place to finish is at Burgess. That's Jamie's town. Jamie is the first boy who ever bealived in Jack.

Burgess has a very special place in his heart. And so is Jamie. But while he is out flying around the world he encounters many strange people, that can't see him. Last time he "meet" a young female.

Jack was in Burgess bringing snow and fun like usual. That was his last stop for the day. He was done and all the kids were out playing. He was going to leave but then Cupcake came running out of her home.

"Guys! You won't believe it!" She ran to her friends. And Jack was just close enough to hear. He turned around to see the little ball of sunshine. "What is it, Cupcake?" Pippa asked.

"My sister is coming back from collage!" Cupcake jumped up and down. "Wait. Y/n is coming back?" Jamie asked excited like everyone else. Jack confused flew to them. "Who's Y/n?" He asked.

"Cupcake's older sister." Jamie answered. "Yes, she's the best!" Caleb said as his twin brother agreed, "Yeah, she is!" They high five each other.

"She is the coolest!" Monty said excitedly as he fixed his glasses. "Coolest?" Jack mouthed out. "Remember when we had that massive snowball fight?" Claude asked as he made a snowball and threw it at Caleb who dogged.

"Yeah, she was the best at that!" Caleb agreed. "The best?" Jack mummered. "Ooh, and on my birthday she made the biggest party ever!" Pippa jumped up and down. "She was awesome!" Monty exclaimed.

"Awsome?" Jack whispered. "Uh, were is she, exactly?" Jack said as he leaned on his woden staff. "She's on her way here!" Cupcake yelled. "When is she getting here?" Jamie asked.

Jack chuckled at their excitement. "I'm not so sure." Cupcake shrugged. While they all told Jack how awesome and generous Y/n was they didn't know you had arrived.

"Mom! Dad!" You ran to them and hugged them both. Tears where shead. Blah, blah, blah. "Where's Cupcake?" You asked. "Oh, she's with Jamie and the others." Your mother said whipping her tears.

You lowly gasped with excitement and with one last hug you ran to find her. "Cupcake!" You called as you walked along the frozen path. Almost slipping. But you grabbed onto a ralling for bikes.

You sighed and carefully walked along the path. "Cupcake!" You yelled again. This time you were somewhere near Jamie's house and near the lake. "Uh, Jamie!?" You called.

"Ugh, come back from collage to a very warm welcome." You mocked. "Cupcake!!" You yelled louder. "Y/N!!" Cupcake and her friends ran to you. "Oh!" You feel backwards due to the force.

"Hi, guys!" You greeted as you hugged them all. They all bombarded you with questions as you stood up. Cupcake was clinging to your leg which you honestly didn't mind. You knew how much she missed you.

"Woah, woah! Calm down. One at a time, please." You laughed with them. But as you answered their questions Jack flew near you. He observed your features.

How your E/c eyes glimmering in the sun. How your S/c skin suited you well. The way your H/c colered hair framed your face perfectly. How soft your L/c lips looked.

He could tell you where a kind person by the way you interacted with the kids. "It's nice to see you all. But it's getting late shouldn't you guys be heading home?" You asked. Cupcake had finally let go of your leg.

"Oh, right!" Pippa realized. "Will we see you tomorrow?" Monty asked. "You bet!" The kids all cheered. "Come on, Cupcake. Say bye." You told your sister as you started to walk away.

"Bye!" All the kids said to each other and they all went home. "I have so much to tell you!" Cupcake said to you. "Oh, well I would love to hear it all."

Jack being the curious and mischievous guy he is decided to follow you two. He wanted to know you. Maybe even have you see him. He knew you couldn't. But that didn't stop him from trying.

"I have this cool story to tell you. It was awesome!" Cupcake beamed. "Alright. How about you wait 'till we get home. Yeah?" You asked as you glanced down at her. "Okay!" You giggled as she skipped home.

Feeling a cold but gentle breeze you smiled. You loved winter. Sure it was cold but it was fun. A small snowflake fell infront of you. Bringing your hand up the snowflake landed on your palm.

You giggled at the cold feeling. You smiled softly as it started to snow more. "It's snowing!" Cupcake said as she tried to capture snowflakes with her tounge.

"Winter. So lovely." You whispered. Cupcake was a few feet away from you and Jack was right next to you. "It is, ain't it?" Jack asked even though he knew you won't respond.

"How I whish I could just..control it." This peaked Jack's interest. "How so?" He asked. "Imagine me..able to bring winter anywhere, anytime, whenever." You giggled. Watching the snowflakes fall into your palm you felt happy.

Happy to be home. "Well, snowflake, you'll be happy to know, I already do that." Jack informed. You giggled and shoock your head. "Talking to myself. Gotta stop doing that."

You looked straight ahead and saw that Cupcake was further away. "Hey, Cupcake! Wait up!" You ran to her. Jack chuckled at you and looked back but decided to follow you.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Judge Claude Frollo - Piano lesson

warning : obsession, age gap, reader is in her early 20s/ Frollo is in his early 60s, some touching, Frollo is just well Frollo, naive reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the piano passed through the Judge's face as he ran his long thin fingers over the keys. The music in his room caught and the man fell into a melody, his thoughts stopped revolving around the eternal fight against injustice, sin and the gypsies and he could concentrate on his right and faith.

But whenever he played the higher notes, he could not help but let his thoughts go to her. This flower in the stone walls of a church. The church that protected her as the holy daughter of the Dean of Paris.

This sweet flower like from the prettiest dreams and poems did not let him go when he saw her for the first time. How she was wrapped in white and red cloth decorated with gold, lighting the candles on a dark morning in the church.

He watched her closely as her gentle hands held the long candle to light the other smaller ones. She stood on tiptoe to reach the higher ones and he saw her ankles peeking out from under her dress. He saw her hair around her neck and the small smile on her lips as she hummed a song. She was like the rebirth of Mary.

She was everything. Which is why he knew he had to have her, she had to be his. His lover, his wife, his own Mary. She had to be an angel, he had convinced himself by now. He had to have her for himself and he knew that he would use all his power to make this happen.

But before he could put his plans into action, he heard the knock on his door. This timid gentle knocking which he immediately recognized. He took his fingers from the piano, stood up, smoothed out his clothes and went to the door.

The wood of the stairs creaked and he knew that there were few chances that this worked. It was his power, influence and his will why she was here.

Would be taught by him and no one else. It was him. He was the reason. ,,My dear, come in, don't freeze to death," he said after opening the door. He saw the first drops of rain spreading over the city and the dark rain clouds gathering over the city.

A sign from God to warn him, but Frollo ignored it. Ignored everything when he was criticized because he was always right. ,,Thank you, my Lord," she said softly, her voice like a little bell on his ears before he entered and closed the door. Everything would be only a question until he got what he wanted.

,,Let me help you," he said calmly and his hands, obsessed with rings, were already on her clothes. He helped her to take off her coat and to his delight he saw the dress underneath. Not as thick as in the church itself, it was airier, looser and with a slight look at her body, it clung to her.

Around her neck the silver chain with the small sacred coin blessed by her father. An instance that would not and could not stop him. ,,What a pretty necklace, my lady," he murmured, sliding his index finger over it, knowing how she looked at him. How close he was to her breasts and she had not yet been touched.

This naivety and insecurity like a flower that showed its blossoms for the first time in the sun and not in the dark church. ,,A gift for my birth" she replied, even though he already knew it, he acted as if it fascinated him before leaving her and pointing upwards.

,,Please, after you" he insisted and let her go ahead for a few seconds. He saw her lift her dress slightly so she wouldn't get stuck climbing the stairs. She wore no stockings and he could easily see her ankles and legs.

How her body moved under the dress and he imagined how she would look under the fabric. Like a pretty innocent lamb she was in her cage. My pretty little bird came to his mind before he followed her up the stairs and led her into the music room.

,,Your father instructed me to improve your piano playing, he said it was the precision and grace that was missing" he briefly recounted the information he had received in the letter that had delighted him at the time. A letter that made the wolf lick his teeth. It was as good as his. He saw her nod as she sat down at the piano and carefully tapped it, her fingers hovering over the keys.

,,It's true, it's a little difficult to hit the keys perfectly, as good as I am at this piece of music," she admitted before she saw him instruct her to play a piece. He leaned slightly on the piece of music, his gaze always looking down at her as he watched the music go through the room again, which Meloldie seemed familiar to him.

He could easily see her decollete even if the fabric was high so he saw it from his position. Watching her move her fingers over the keys, he saw the mistakes she made and knew exactly what he had to do.

Wordlessly he went over to her, sat down next to her on the chair and began to play with her, feeling her initial confusion as she stopped short and a light touch of his fingers on hers told her to continue.

He wanted to touch more of her warm soft skin and a few moments after she started playing again he let his fingers slide over hers again. ,,You play well for your age, but you need practice, try to touch my fingers to the same keys" he knew and looked at her nodding knowing that in her unworldly way she trusted him and would do whatever he asked.

,,Thank you Frollo...for your honesty" she seemed to dare after a few more minutes, her gaze slipping from him after their eyes met back to the keys of the piano and he knew it would only take more flattery to have her.

They both continued to play for some time, her fingers repeatedly brushing against his and he let his fingers glide over hers.

For her a "normal" piano lesson but for him for the devil it was everything. The two played until the end of the day when the sun was already slowly threatening to go down and he playfully affected with a sigh detached from the piano.

He had done everything to delay this moment, he had even offered her a cup of wine to delay everything a little more. And he had to admit that the look on her face with red cheeks was very thrilling for him.

,,I think that's enough for today, it's time for you to return to your Lord Father" he said and offered her a hand to get up, which she accepted. Since she was not wearing gloves, they touched again and he felt how the hellfire seemed to blaze between them.

,,I thank you my Lord Frollo...for your hospitality and your help...you are a good man" he said and for the first time he saw her smile softly, the flower blossomed and he bowed slightly taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

A gesture that would be taboo for her father, a gesture of seduction and sin, but from him it was generosity. ,,You are an enchanting company, my dear flower, I expect to see you again in a few days," he replied, releasing her hand only when he saw the blush on her cheeks. How she lowered her eyes full of shame and flattery and could not help but smile a little more.

Before he helped her put on the matel again and take her to the waiting carriage outside. She hooked up with him for the few steps and he proudly led her beside him.

The wolf and his lamb. ,,May you rest well my lady and my music find you in your dreams" he said and charm flowed over his lips he knew she loved his voice she had listened to him for hours in church reading the bible even when no one was around and it was just the two of them. ,,I pray that I will dream of it my Lord" she said goodbye before the door of the carriage closed and she drove away from the wolf who was showing his teeth.

One bite and you're my little lamb he thought and the devilish grin settled on his lips as the infernal red of the evening sun fell on him and he went back to his hiding place. Greedily waiting for the next meeting, knowing that he would make her his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[roseapov]

Empress

Claude de Alger Obelia x F!Reader

Tw: sexual themes, obsession, implied kidnapping, arranged marriage and pregnancy

! Sexual themes ! 13+ !

Povtober 2023, Day 14 [Masterlist]

You, a second-in-line royal, neglected by your family. The audacity of your family to do so, as they were ruling over a small kingdom, completely insignificant with the comparison to the whole continent.

Your kingdom is only still standing cause of one condition made by the Obelian Empire. As long as you were to be engaged and later married to the Obelian Emperor, your country will continue to stand strong, with the help of a powerful empire.

However if the conditions were to be broken off, everyone in your land would suffer a great loss, being led to a war with a completely crushing opponent, that would weep out your homeland in a week, if they so desired.

And yet you still got mistreated, even as a peace keeper. One day, when you had enough of it, you run away, or at least planned to. Your escape plan seemed decent with a big chance for success, as your wing of the castle was almost empty, with most of the servants in your parents and older sibling side.

On the same day the said emperor came to your castle to talk about the marriage details. When you tried to sneak off through the royal gardens, you got stopped by some unknown man with blonde hair and blue jeweled eyes.

Tossing from side to side, desperately trying to run away from his grasp, chanting like a mantra that you wanted to leave this place forever. Eventually you became tired and with this man unrelenting grip, falling asleep in his arms.

The next moment you wake up, you're in bed with that mysterious man from the last night, being dangerously close to each other.

Later on you found out, you were taken to the Obelian Empire as a future empress, and the man you woke up to was the emperor.

And... You don't want to know what happened to your kingdom.. That's the safest option to choose!

Ever since your arrival you finally got treated like a real royalty, being drowned by all that valuables and attentiveness of the servants and guards.

The man, whose name you learned to be Claude, never really left your side ever since. You had a hard time warming up to him, even when he took you away from your family, his cold glare scaring you endlessly.

Shortly after your arrival, the marriage and coronation came shortly after. People welcoming you with open arms and a great amount of hope, that you will be able to tame their ruler.

Claude was very attentive to you, seeing your every little discomfort, swiftly disposing of its source. Example?

When you didn't like the food the chef cooked, and Claude ordering to execute him. That's the exact part when you step in, pleading him to spare this poor soul. To everyone's surprise he indeed listened to you and left this person alive.

From that day onward you earned the utmost respect and adoration from your subjects, being known for your benevolence towards anyone, no matter their status but also the ability to calm down the tyrant emperor.

But after a while of your reign with Claude came the question of the children. As a married man Claude has slayed all of his concubines, just for you, which left you scared and speechless, to discard someone's life so easily, how.. vicious.

As a ruler without concubines and children, he had to, well.. make some. Preferably with the empress, but some other women would do the thing too, no they wouldn't, he killed everyone seconds after these words left their mouths.

The fact that they had the audacity to suggest him making future heirs with someone else? Truly outrageous, they met an end they deserved.

To make all that nonsense quiet you don't have a choice and decide with your husband that it is time to make a royal heir. You're doing that only because it's a part of your royal duties, but don't worry your husband knows it and just pretends that you want it as much as he does.

During this time, he would constantly cling to you and if it were for him, you wouldn't need to stand up from the bed at all, which you rarely did anyway.

He threatened everyone with death if you were to leave your shared bedroom.

He greatly enjoyed your baby making process, taking in all of you. Your expression and sounds you made, he has it all detaily memorized.

Being even more intoxicated with you, and when you tried to muffle your moans, he got even harsher, considering it disrespecting the emperor and denying his wishes.

He became ruthless, telling you how lucky you are that he favors you, that anyone else in your place would be already dead. You should be thankful you haven't met this horrible end, and yet you still have the audacity to disobey him, truly bold of you, Empress.

Let him put you in your place, always beneath him.

If you do get pregnant, you'll forget what it was like to have a moment for yourself. Now you're under the watching gaze of Claude as he doesn't let you do anything at all. While always standing right by your side, watching you as your belly gets rounder with every passing week.

That child will be the next ruler of the Obelian Empire, it will be yours child, yours and his.

A living proof that you decided was forced to make love with him, a living proof that you were all his and he all yours, till the end of the time, saved in the history for all to read.

I went all out on this one which is weird since I had 0 thoughts after my sickness, but I'm not complaining🤭 This came out mostly 'you' centered, so I'm sorry to everyone who didn't liked that, it was an accident🙏 I tried making it more Claude centered by making this fic longer, to conceal the 'you' centered part, but I don't know how well I pulled that off 👀 Feedback is greatly appreciated💛

~roseapov

[almondmilkcleanser]

𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖘 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒☾ ☽𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 - O2

■ ` ♡ characters / fandom ; f!reader x sebastian michaelis + Claude Faustus

■ ` ♡ tw ; TBD ;MINORS DNI

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Blindly, you walked. You forgot where your room was but you didn't stop. You refused. To be embarrassed like that in front of everyone, in your most vulnerable of letters, inexcusable!

You knew better than to try to send out a letter but your vulnerabilities got the better of you. And here you were, with your heart sitting between your fingertips while you wrote. How good that did you.

Your feet flailed in front of you, catching the fabric of the hallway rugs in every other step. But you didn't care. The further away you got from them the better it would be.

You turned a corner, then another and another immediately after. Since when did this house become so complicated to maneuver through?!

“Ugh!” You groaned. “All these hallways look the same! There must be a way I can tell where I’m going…” Then the idea popped into your head. You fished around the bust of your dress until you found it — a safety pin that you always held on you for emergencies and for protection. 

“Alright, let’s see…” you gritted your teeth, holding the pin to the tip for your finger. The sting lasted longer than you expected but you got it done. 

A fresh droplet of blood pooled at the tip of your finger, just enough to smear one of the walls discretely. You slid your index finger across the wallpaper underneath a large image of the Late Lord Phantomhive. You could feel his eyes looking down at you disapprovingly, but it didn’t stop you. 

“If this proves my theory right, then that’s one thing.” You looked left and right, hoping that those butlers weren’t on your trail. “But if it proves me wrong-“

You heard a distant thud down the opposing hall, sending you storming the complete opposite.

“Forgive me, Vincent.” 

You turned a corner, then another, and another. You roamed down what you thought was a new hallway until-

“Wait a minute.” There was your blood stain on the wall. 

You didn’t want to jump to any conclusions ahead of time, but something wasn’t right. Instead of the right this time, you turned left, jogging down a darker hallway. This has to be the way, you thought to yourself. The paintings on the wall looked different and a new corner emerged. You took the opportunity to turn it, crossing a long doorless hallway before turning the corner to another hallway with a dead end. There was a large mahogany door that towered over you almost ominously. 

You swallowed hard. Your feet were tiring out and your dress was growing heavier by the minute. But you didn’t want to turn back with your tail between your legs.

“Here it goes…” you grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open. Walking through, you saw the same portrait of Vincent looking down at you and that-

“Same blood stain! Just what is going- What?!” Your initial thought was to walk through the door behind you, but it wasn’t there. Instead, it was replaced with a table and wilted flowers. 

“What is going on?!” The fatigue couldn’t have settled in just yet but you were slowly losing your mind. The hallways were looping. You were stuck in this hallway and didn’t know what to do.

Blindly, you ran down the hallway again until you found another random door. It was a little beaten up, but you didn’t care. 

I’ll just hide in here till nightfall. Then I’ll just leave the castle. Yeah, that’s it.

You swung the door open, quickly jumping inside. It was cramped and humid, but you didn’t care. You reached back to find the wall, but only felt heavy coats that were hung sporadically around you. 

“What?” You stepped back, reaching for the wall again,  but again it was an empty space. Like a tunnel. You stepped back one more time, hand outreached to catch your fall, but it wasn’t. Your hand pressed against something firm, warm, and- breathing? 

You tried to pivot on your heel to see, but before you knew it your body was turned around and your hands were pulled behind your back. Before you could scream, a pair of gloved hands covered your mouth, rendering you helpless. 

You shut your eyes, tears of frustration forming in the corners. You just knew you should have went to Italy!

The mystery figure held you close as he leaned further back in the closet. You braced for the floor to catch the both of your fall, but instead you landed on something softer, in an area better lit than where you were. Actually… you were in your bedroom.

Your bedroom?!

“You know… it’s a lot of work and entirely too much hassle to chase you around a manor this large.” Sebastian emerged from the same dark opening in the wall that you and the mystery figure fell through. The second he stepped through, the opening dissipated into thin air, leaving nothing behind. 

Sebastian dusted his arm off, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Not some of my better work, but with Claude here, I guess I had to pull out all of the stops.” He motioned his head your direction with an accomplished smirk. Small, yet full of pride.

Claude, with his hand still fastened around your mouth, grunted in response. His golden eyes never leaving Sebastian or his movements. 

“It’s almost disrespectful to the boy how arrogant you can be.” He finally spoke, his voice stern and precise.

“The boy?” Sebastian chuckled, “Don’t you mean Master of the house? For goodness’ sake, Claude show some respect. If you want any negotiation for his soul at the very least pretend you care for his respective title.”

Master? Soul? That was quite enough.

“Tch!” Claude quickly retracted his hand from your mouth to pull the glove off of his hand before it continued to stain red. 

“That’s quite enough!” You barked, still struggling to break free from his grasp.

“You’re going to tell me exactly what’s going on or I’ll-“ Sebastian clenched your cheeks together, pulling your face forward and tilting it up at him so you and him could lock eyes. Claude’s hands gripped tighter around your wrists, making you wince.

“Or you’ll what?” He snickered. “You’ll go home and risk the family business to burst into flames because you just couldn’t resist relinquishing your virtues? Or better yet, we’ll have your father earn a clear view of his beloved daughter, plucked from innocence’s petals, forever tarnishing your good name and the family’s reputation.”

“Now, Sebastian,” Claude rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm breath nuzzling the outer edge of your ear.

“That’s not a way to speak to such a refined woman of her stature. No matter how filthy her letters may have portrayed her to be.”

“I believe there’s still some innocence to her soul that’s simply ripe for consumption. We could even share it. How’s that sound?”

You pulled your arms, attempting to get free, but it was no use.

“Dammit.” You shook your shoulder free of Claude, your eyes burning into Sebastian’s with a vulnerable disgust.

“I’ve worked too hard to earn my title as a woman in this family and you’re not going to take it away from me. If you’re so privy on holding my confidential letters over my head, then let’s conduct a deal then, hm?”

Both Claude and Sebastian were all ears. You had the ball in your court.

“I stay out of Ciel’s affairs and you two have to give me whatever I want. Whenever I want. No matter how ridiculous. If I ask for it, you give it to me.”

Claude looked at Sebastian and Sebastian to you. This “negotiation” sounded far too similar to their current arrangements with Ciel and Alois, but for the both of them, it intrigued them. To have a strong, yet snippish, personality lead them around it may turn out to be the refreshing change of routine that they both so desperately needed.

“I don’t care about this whole soul nonsense. But I do know this, if I’m going to spend a peaceful summer here with the four of you, I’m going to make it fun for myself.”

Your face never wavered, and neither did Sebastian’s.

“And if we don’t oblige?” He asked.

“Nonsense, Sebastian. This is a woman of dignity and demure, no matter how… tempting she may seem at the moment.” He shifted you off of his lap and onto his leg for obvious reasons.

“I say we indulge her. To keep her quiet and out of, actual, adult activities.” He let go of your hands. You circled your wrists around in around, regret further seeping into your pores. 

“Do we have a deal or not?” Sebastian looked at you, then Claude, then back at you. Tossing his tinge of hesitation to the side, he reached out for your hand and you for Claude’s, shaking them both respectively. 

“Then it’s settled.” You hopped off of Claude’s lap, dusting yourself off. You took one look at the two and felt a pit growing at the base of your stomach. Shaking it off in your head, you turned to the both of them with both hands on your hip.

“Well, I don’t think my bathwater or my way to my bedroom is going to find itself.” Claude fastened his glasses, eyes peering Sebastian’s direction.

Just what did they sign up for. 

END

NEXT CHAPTER

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[simplyafountainpen]

Red Looks Good On Us

{𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼}: Demon!M!Reader x Grell Sutcliff

{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}: (Y/n) was particularly rude today, and as much as Grell loved it, it seems like her adorable little girl would need some punishment for that naughty mouth of his~

{𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼}: Sub!Top!Reader, Power Bottom!Grell, Demon!Reader, feminization (of reader), punishment, bondage, impact play, Mistress title, praise, Reader wears makeup, Grell's privates referred to as cock and pussy, (y/n) is the "Mourning Dove Demon"

"But belooovvveeddd!!-"

You sighed as you pushed your Master, Alois Trancy, behind you. Today was supposed to be a simple outing with the boy, a little walk through the city and perhaps even through a park to get him out of that stuffy office of his. He had been swamped with work recently, and even if he didn't want to, it had to be done.

For weeks you watched as his patience grow smaller until he'd snap at the slightest inconvenience. It grew annoying, and finally out of control when he decided it would be a great idea to throw an entire piping hot tea set at you and Claude. You quickly ushered him out of the house as the other demon cleaned the mess - also to allow him to calm down and not rip the child to shreds. He still needs the child's soul, after all.

It had been peaceful for a time, until you and the boy ran into a certain red head. You stuffed the boy behind you, ignoring his small noise of questioning, and stared into those chartreuse phosphorescent eyes of hers.

"Grell. I will not be abandoning my duties for you. What ever are you even doing here?" You grumbled. The both of you stared at each other, Grell biting her lips while you could feel the veins budging in your forehead. You had no time for this.

"Well, beloved, I saw you from across the street and I just simply had to say hello to the most scrumptious looking man in my life, right?~" Again, you grumbled.

"Now isn't the time you damned succubus, off with you." You waved her off with a hand, turning back to a less than pleased Alois only to feel her hands on your shoulders, causing you to growl.

"Now now dearest, is that anyway to treat the woman you loovvee?~" You shrugged her hands off, again turning to Alois with a mumble, asking him to go the opposite way as a fly seemed to be buzzing in your ear.

"Oh come now darling, don't walk away!! Let me join you at least!! I'm so very bored and haven't a thing to do for hours!!~" You turned to her.

"What of the paperwork I know for a fact you're putting off right now?" A smirk now laid on your face, and the woman sputtered. Alois chuckled at her face in your grip. Both immediately - but silently - noted that you seemed to puff up in accomplishment.

A fact about you was that you were a being of irony. A demon, yet you were based off a dove. A mourning dove, to be precise. Grell huffed and folded her arms. She leaned closer to your face, noses almost touching.

"Mmm... you're no fun around this brat." Grell mused. Her painted lips were creased into a pout. She stood up strait, looking you in the eye.

"Well then perhaps you should be off then? I certainly wouldn't bat an eye." You leaned even closer, foreheads touching. Both of you continued in silence, until Alois coughed into his elbow. You grunted, backing up quickly and turning back to the boy in question. You sent one more cynical smile her way, accompanied by a wave, and went off with your Master.

Grell stood there for a moment more. She knew you wouldn't truly belittle her or do anything truly physically damaging considering your... relationship, but she still couldn't help but shiver at how dismissive you were. And though she understood why you wouldn't stop to chat - you being under a contract, she couldn't help but feel slightly peeved at how quickly you brushed her off! No long winded insults, no pushing her, no attention, why, you could make a girl feel neglected like this!

She smiled with a dark chuckle. Oh, you'd be paying when you got home that night, she'd make sure of it.~

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

You entered the house quietly, a greeting and apology on your lips for how you treated Grell, only to be met by silence and no lights. Immediately you began lighting candles and flicking on lamps to fill the room with light. In doing this, you noted that the lights in the bedroom were on and abandoned your current mission, walking over to the closed door with light pouring from beneath it.

"Grell? Honey? Are you in there?" You knocked gently on the door, pressing an ear to the wood before gently opening it.

"I want to apologize for my... statements... today." Instead of a sleeping or a - hells forbid - working Grell, you found your girlfriend in nothing but her underwear and corset, a satin robe hanging scantily off her shoulders. She looked back at you with a smile, glasses glinting in the light of the many candles lit in the room, speaking of:

The room itself was dimly lit with said candles on holders and on the floor, rose petals delicately strewed throughout the room. On the vanity were a few open makeup boxes, all the makeup being red of course. The bedsheets had been changed to Grell's favorite scarlet ones, and carmine satin ribbons dangled from the headboard and footboard.

The most damning thing, however, was the set of blood red lacey thigh-highs, panties, and bra neatly folded at the foot of the bed.

You didn't notice her stand, but rather heard the door being closed behind you, Grell's fingers making their way around your shoulders, feeling her breath against her neck.

"Oh, so you wish to apologize, is that it?" You felt her lips against your neck, your sensitive skin picking up on the kiss mark left behind. Her hands trailed downward, crossing your chest and fliting over your sensitive nipples, making you suck in a quick breath. Not being able to find your voice, you nodded.

"Well, I think I know of one way you can make it up to me.~" She was by your ear now, lips lightly pressing against it for a moment. You shivered, eyes closing. She giggled.

"You you want to make it up to me, pretty girl?~" You clenched your teeth and turned away, her hands wrapping around your waist and meeting right above your hardened cock. She looked at you for a moment and sighed. Hearing this, you whipped your head around and nodded rapidly, to which she simply walked around you, now facing you with her hands on your ass. One left its perch and took your chin, forcing you to look at her again.

"I want a verbal answer, darling. You're free to say no, you know." Your eyes widened, then you took one of your own hands and placed behind hers, moving both to your cheek and nuzzling into them.

"I do..." Grell immediately smiled, grabbing your face and slamming her lips on yours. She overpowered you easily, tongue invading your mouth with you putting up no resistance. She turned you around and pushed you back onto the bed, forcing you to sit and then sitting in your lap. One of her hands rested on your shoulder, the other making its home around your neck. You whimpered into the kiss and she smiled, breaking it off.

You looked up through tear-laced lashes and she pecked you on the head, getting down on her knees. She began to remove your clothes, starting with your shoes and socks, kissing and nipping up you leg until she made it to your waist. Her fingers made quick work of your belt and the buttons on your pants, you lifting yourself up slightly to make it easier to slip them down your legs. Before you could sit back down, she slipped her finger into the waistline of your drawers, tutting. Wordlessly, she unbuttoned them and drew them down with your pants. You gasped as the cold air of the room hit your now exposed cock, whining. Grell planted a quick kiss to your inner-thigh and continued.

Your waistcoat was removed slowly, the woman above you massaging you shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Languidly, she removed the rest of your layers, ghosting her painted nails over skin. Tears layered themselves in your eyes and she kissed them away, cooing at your nakedness. Then, she grabbed the laced thigh-highs and unfolded them, taking one and gently unrolling it, she grabbed one of your legs and slowly pushed the fabric up, fixing and smoothing it out, then doing the same for the other. She grabbed you by the waist, forcing you to stand. Grell then grabbed the panties and lightly bit your neck.

"Lift one of those pretty legs for me dearest, would you?" She whispered into your ear. You nodded, lifting you left leg, and she quickly pushed them up, running her hand over your ass and the small of your back while she slipped you through one hole of the panties. You both then did the same on your right side, and she gave you a quick kiss as a reward. You were then sat back down as she ran her hands over your chest, twisting your hardened nipples, causing you to moan.

She continued to play with your chest, making sure your skin was sensitive to the slightest touch. Grell hummed at her work, grabbing the bra and lifting one of your arms, sliding it into place.

"You know," she said as she slipped the other in and clasped the back, "I got the smallest size for you, darling. And look at this! You can't even fill it out!~" The lace brushed against your skin, forcing a few pants and moans from you. Another kiss was pressed to your temple as Grell helped you up, walking you over to the vanity and sitting you down.

"We're not quite done yet my dear, just a couple more touches and you'll be perfect.~ Don't you want to be perfect for me, dearest?~" You nodded rapidly, but Grell clicked her tongue. More tears filled you waterline as you gasped, quickly correcting your mistake.

"Y-yes. I do want to be perfect for you, M-mistress." Grell stared at you as those whispered words left your lips. Taking a strand of hair between her fingers, she twirled it around.

"Mistress hmm? I quite like that..~" She smiled at you and sat back in your lap, turning around and hovering a hand over a small box filled with red lipsticks, all different shades. The reaper choose a slightly lighter shade compared to your current attire, softly applying it to your lips, humming a turn you didn't recognize. Then it was an eyeshadow, mascara, then a blush, the soft brush tickling over your skin.

"Oh look at you!~ Such a pretty girl!~ Why, I don't think I could even tell you were demon if I didn't know better. I might even dare to call you an angel.~" Her hand was under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. Your hands griped the arms of the chair beneath you, nearly splintering the wood. Your breathing became heavy as Grell leaned closer, lips caressing over yours.

"What do we say?~" She whispered, and you whispered in kind.

"Thank you Mistress."

With wild abandon, she smashed her lips onto yours, hands tangling in your hair and yours flew to her hips. Grells tongue forced its way down your throat, your eyes rolling back from the sensation. She broke the kiss, staring at your fucked out expression.

"Look at how sensitive you are.~ My good little girl." You whined, drool slipping from your lips as you felt her grind down onto your cock. Her hand began to stoke it through the lace panties, making you whine louder. The tip of your cock peaked from the top, pre bubbling from the tip and onto the lace trim.

"Already ruining your panties? Tut tut darling." Grell mused. She grabbed your upper arms and dragged you up, doing all but throwing you onto the bed. She gripped your hair in her hands, resting against the headboard. One of her painted nails ran over your lips, inserting her thumb into your mouth. Her other hand went down to her own panties, rubbing herself through the fabric at the sight of your disheveled form. Her manicured hand pulled her painties down till the rested beneath her balls, revealing her hardened cock, budging and red.

"Open wide, dear.~" Her thumb slipped from your lips, and her cock was rammed down your throat, effectively gagging you.

"MHMP?!?" "Hehe, look at how well your taking me, pretty.~" Grell's hand traced your throat, squeezing it lightly to feel her length poking out.

"Go on then," she pat your head, tangling her hands in your hair, "Show Mistress what this darling throat of yours can do.~"

You groaned, sucking her down and hollowing your cheeks, dragging your tongue up and down the side of her sex. Your lipstick stained the base as you bobbed up and down, breathing through your nose. Grell's hands landed on the sides of your face as you sucked, nails digging and nearly piercing your skin. Without warning she took control, slamming you up and down her cock, the tip touching the back of your throat and your drool slicking up her entire shaft, making it shine.

Grell continued, your lipstick smearing across her girth as the mascara she had applied ran down your face. She then shoved you all the way down, blocking your airflow. To add to it, she gripped one hand around your neck, making the dark spots in your vision grow faster. Your shaky hands gripped her thighs, eyes rolling all the way back as your throat constricted more, spit running down your chin. She held you for a moment longer, your shaking about to cease, moaning at how tight your throat had gotten. Just a second before your fully passed out - which would be a feat - she pulled you off, your head falling onto the sheets. Your tongue lolled out and drool pooled below you, breathing heavy. Grell quickly began stroking, slick noises filling your ears, and thick white ropes covered your face, some getting into your panting mouth. You whined and Grell chuckled breathily, taking some cum onto her fingers and tasting it.

"You make everything sweeter dear. I suppose white is also a good look on you, isn't it, dove?~" You cooed at the nickname, shoving your head into her thigh, which now had your spit on it. You kissed and sucked at her skin, pupils blown out.

"Oh? Is my dove okay?" Her voice had tilt of merriment to it as she lifted you, switching your places so that now you were against the headboard and she was kneeling on the bed. You cooed again, muttering nothings under your breath as you allowed her to wrap you wrists in the silk attacked to the bed. She tied small yet firm knots, tugging to ensure you could still escape if need be. The reaper pat you on the head, giggling when you nuzzled into her touch with hair puffed up.

"Dove, it's time. Are you ready to finally make it up to me?" you gave a mumbled reply. Grell smirked.

She fully slipped of her panties to reveal a already slicked up cunt, glistening with lube, strawberry scented. She positioned herself above you, spitting on your cock and rubbing it in good, she lined up the head with her hole, before giving you a quick peck on the lips.

"Good girl.~"

She slammed herself onto you, both of you letting loud moans from the feeling. Her hands gripped your shoulders, nails finally tearing into your skin, you hissing at the dull pain. She bounced up and down, walls clamping down on you with such force that you began to cry, the tears that had been welling up spilling over your lash line.

"O-oh dove - NGH - so p-pretty!~ Even w-ith your makeup all - UGH - ruined!!~" Grell complemented, her hips meeting yours with squelching noises. You were no longer comprehensible, borderline animalistic with the bird-like chirps and coo's you released. Your hands tugged fruitlessly on their binds, desperately clawing out towards Grell. Her thighs slapped on yours, her chest pressed to you still sensitive one, compelling a high-pitched keen to escape your throat, which only caused Grell to coo at you more.

She stopped bouncing and grinded on your cock, walls sucking you in and squeezing, your noises never ending, flowing freely from you lips. Grell pressed her head into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin softly and sucking hickies harshly onto your jugular, biting at it even.

You mewled and wailed at the attention, makeup nearly completely washed away by sweat, drool, and tears. Your head was rolled back as she continued to grind you into her, eyes showing nothing but the whites and jaw fully relaxed. After a moment of her slowing down, the stillness, she suddenly picked herself up and rammed you all the way back in, tip to hilt, in one quick movement. Grell's bouncing was much more aggressive than before, your arms reached back and grabbed onto the headboard. Your teeth grind together, and with heavy breaths you released the loudest whine yet.

"Are y-you about to cum, dove?" Grell groaned. Your nodded quickly, and she gave you a kiss on your cheek. "T-then cum for m-me dove!! CUM FOR M-ME!!-" You screamed, cumming hard into the warmth of her cunt. You gasped, sobbing, trying to catch your breath as Grell came in kind, cum painting your chest. She leaned against you, breathing hard and smiling. Her hands immediately went to your hair, tracing shapes in your scalp, giving you time to slow your breathing.

"Are you awake, dear?" You mumbled something, nothing of substance though. Grell smiled at you, before pulling you out of her. You huffed, watching your seed leak from her lightly gaping hole.

"Alright alright hold on..." She untied your wrists and rubbed them to sooth the dull ache she knew would be there - no matter how much you would deny it - and smiled at you.

"I'll go get snacks, water, towels, etc., etc. dear. You just wait right here." She booped you on your nose and you snorted. Grell then laid you down on the sheet and slipped on a pair of slippers, walking out of the room to the kitchen, though you couldn't help but watch the trails of white that flowed down her legs.

You snuggled deeper into the fabric of the sheets, beginning to nod off. All you wanted was for her to return and hold you. Eventually she did, holding a tray filled with aforementioned snacks, water, towels and set it down, leaving for a moment to grab new sheets and popping by the vanity to grab a few makeup wipes. She gave you some water before she began to wipe the streaked makeup off your face.

"You did wonderfully dear, I can assure you you've apologized fully." You giggled and she smiled, leaning in so the bridges of your noses were touching.

"I love you, Mistress." Grell chuckled.

"And I love you, Dove."

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

"What are those dark spots on your neck, (Y/n)?" You turned to the sound of Alois's voice, sharply keeping your gaze right above the eyes lest you end up like Hannah.

"Whatever do you mean, your Highness?" You asked, and he pointed to a specific part of your jugular, and after you ran a hand over the bruise, your eyes widened.

"It's nothing, your Highness I promise, nothing that should concern you anyway..." Though that only made the blonde pout and start whining childishly.

"Well now I simply must know!! What is it??" You looked over to Claude who only shrugged with the tiniest of smirks on his face, that bastard.

You were going to kill him one day, if you didn't die of embarrassment first, anyway.

{𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼}: This is a bit longer than the last one. If you could not tell at this point, I adore Black Butler. Thank you for reading.

-🖋️

All publishings on this account belong to @fountain-pen-anon. I do not authorize my fics being altered, translated, stolen or published/reposted to other sites, thank you.

© fountain-pen-anon - all rights reserved

[kikiwooo]

© @/kikiwooo

notes: gn reader

[ CARRYING ]

X.Borg

On his shoulders. What can be better than that? With the height of his, enjoy the ride. He'll also grab onto your leg for you to not fall off.

"Steady now, wouldn't want you to fall off."

Dyrroth

He loves to hook his hands under your thighs and lift you up, how should I explain this; front piggyback? Your height or weight doesn't matter to him, he's the prince of the abyss after all.

"You look rather..frustrated by this..~ Come on, look at me."

Fredrinn

Carries you with only one arm just to show off, yeah that's fredrinn. He makes it a little game to win over your heart, his charming face and that smirk of his doesn't help at all.

"How's the weather up there darlin'~? Pretty good mhm?"

Julian

Throwing you over his shoulder seems like a effective choice actually. Especially when there's a fight and there are more enemies he can take so he just throws you over his shoulder like a potato sack and 🏃💨

"Stop squirming I don't want to drop you-! oi! Stop hitting my back now that's hurts-"

Aamon

Guy's either princess carrying you or leading you by the hand like a true gentleman. Honestly it all makes the cold Duke's heart flutter. Aamon is clever, so clever that in a middle of the fight he can scoop you into his arms and ran to a nearby tower. (Don't forget his invisible cloak ability)

"I got you."

Xavier

Above the others Xavier is most comfortable on carrying you on his back. For him it's the most efficient way if you get injured and run for aid. Just,, just imagine him bending down to his knee and waiting for you to settle on his back🥺🥺

"Jump now, that way we'll be faster."

Martis

Just like Aamon, the Ashura king himself prefers to carry you in his muscular arms, I mean who doesn't want that?? Also won't miss any opportunity to flustee you making you hid into his chest, you bet he's grinning ear to ear.

"Look at me love, I want to see you~"

Gord

Gord doesn't see the need to carry you, he can make you float instead but won't do that you need to beg for...literally. What, ain't standing next to him is enough for you? With how an ear sore(affectionately) you are he will, with a flick of his wrist will make you float. Go ahead and take the opportunity to bump his nose.🤫

"Tsk, don't get any ideas..."

Jonshon

Carrying? What's that? Take a seat instead, don't forget the belt.

Hanzo

Holds you like a kitten/puppy, just like a baby animal in general. He's a big guy what did you expect? Hanzo doesn't really like having you close to him because of the demon inside him who makes comments such as how sweet your blood smells...

".......must you stand this close? .......fine...come here."

Claude

Tries to throw you over his shoulder just to tease you then falls to the ground with you. As playful as Claude can be he's a hopeless romantic and most of the time is clueless about literally everything. He's getting advices from his best man, trust Dexter on this. He's showing how should Claude carry you-

"(Name)- heyy, trust me on this, please one more time-! No I won't drop you I promise-"

Leomord

If you specifically want him to carry you, he'll do it without saying anything, be it princess carry(his favorite) or any other styles. But mostly you two will be riding with Barbiel, he's behind you, arms on the both of your sides. His reflexes are fast, he'll catch you before his mind can proceed.

"The weather is quite nice don't you think darling? Would you accompany me and Barbiel for a little walk?"

[enullarts]

The dawn of a whole new world

Wrote a trans!m!byleth x Cl/aude from f/e/3/h birth fic bc i thought about them for too long and developed emotions again

cw// tmpreg, descriptions of birth, mostly neutral wording, Byleth is the one who got pregnant

"I love you. With everything I am. And the next time we see each other... it will be at the dawn of a whole new world. A peaceful, happy world."

If Byleth had known how serious Claude was about this he would have held onto him longer, kissed him harder, done everything within his power to memorise his beloved Golden Deer's features, smell, taste. But it was not meant to be, time did not stop for anyone and there was a religion to build back up in Fódlan and a war to quell in Almyra. He also understood this, and the sooner he and Claude began this journey, the sooner they would be reunited.

And it wasn't like they never saw each other, the international relations meetings between the nations still occured regularly, except for the fact that they were now on opposing sides, trying to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement for both countries. Byleth lived for those weeks where either he would come on a peacekeeping mission to Almyra or Claude, now going by his true name Khalid, would visit his old Fódlan home. Quick stolen glances, kisses on the hand, nightly sneak outs as they tore into each other like animals starving.

They managed to keep their relationship downlow for a while. That is, until one day, Byleth felt a flutter in his lower abdomen which had slowly been growing over the course of the months. At first, he had thought he was just becoming a bit plump from regular hearty meals around the monastry. But a quick visit to the healer quickly dispelled any guesses on what it was. He was pregnant.

A pang of fear sank into his heart, he had no idea when he would next see Claude, sometimes he would not see him for years. Sending a private message that could be intercepted some way would spell chaos for the fragile relations the countries were embroiled in as it was. They were not wed, the baby, although desired and loved, would be deemed a bastard and a liability for Claude's claim to the throne. No, he had to keep it a secret.

He swore the healer to secrecy and informed only his closest advisors within the monastry. His robes would cover his changing form well enough and in the last few months he would temporarily withdraw from public view with the excuse of needing it for internal affairs. (Not technically a lie).

Time went on and his belly only grew, his back ached from all the standing and moving he had to do, he was by no means fragile, but the extra weight, the nausea, the anxiety, sometimes it would all become too much and he would take ill, needing Seteth or Rhea to take over while he rested. Despite his illness he loved the days he could lie in bed and feel his and Claude's baby. He spoke quietly to them, hoping the baby could hear his voice and know how much his other papa loved them even though he didn't know when their child would get to meet him.

Finally, his belly grew big enough it was no longer able to be concealed, and he took to solitude, remaining in his room and only seeing selected people who knew about his condition and the child's father. Marianne came by often when she wasn't busy with Hilda and they would sit and read books together.

--

The sun had just risen when Byleth awoke to a painful cramp in his abdomen making him grunt and curl in on himself, both hands encircling his now full term belly which was rock hard and clenching angrily. He breathed deeply, gently rubbing circles around his sides as he smiled down, tracing a stretchmark. "Hello, love... are you practicing again?"

He waited a moment and soon his belly relaxed once again, allowing him to sit up slowly, one hand continuously on his lower abdomen, supporting his lower belly. He had noticed it had dropped significantly in the last few days and the contractions had gone from every few days to every day now, they were beginning to hurt for longer too. Not to mention all that weight in between his hips. Some days he felt so full and low he thought the baby was about to fall out of him. But he had reached full term now, and a few days really. And still no sign of the baby arriving.

He had a feeling today would be different though.

He dressed himself lightly, it was a light summer morning, the heat of the day had not yet taken hold and a cool breeze blew in from his opened window.

Byleth closed his eyes and breathed deeply, letting himself calm and take in the day. His mind wandered back to the night more than nine months ago now that had apparently conceived this miracle child. Whispers of "I love you" and desperate and quick touches, they only had a few hours of privacy before Claude would be off again. Definitely not as romantic as the both of them would have liked.A cloud blocked the sun for a moment and a chill ran down Byleth's spine now, a flash of fear entering during this moment of vulnerability.

Due to Byleth's creation he had doubted he could bear children, or that he would become sick like his mother when the time came to bear the child. But he felt good today, calm.. he could only pray this was a good sign. He wanted this baby more than anything, and he wanted to live to see them grow and meet their father.

--

"Oh!" Byleth gasped, clutching his abdomen as he dropped the book he had been reading in his private library with Marianne. It was midday and the pains were definitely worse now, coming regularly. The lady quickly hurrying over to help her former teacher stay standing.

"Is it the baby, Byleth?" Marianne asked quietly and rubbed his back as he softly panted through the latest pain.

He could only nod, an emotion of grief welling up inside him. Was Claude going to miss the birth of their child? He had been adamant about keeping it from him to not interfer with his work, but now that the time had come for the baby to arrive- that he was going to give birth without Claude with him, that he wouldn't be the first to hold their baby? Oh.. it hurt.

"Byleth... you're crying..." Marianne's voice drew him back as she made him sit and produced a little hankerchief to gently pat away his tears. Her eyes gentle with concern. "Does it hurt a lot? Is there anything I can do?"

Byleth dried his eyes further with the meat of his palm. "Help me to my room... We should prepare."

--

It was well into the night until Byleth's labor had progressed into the active phase, he had stripped into wearing just a night gown and had shed his undergarments as his water kept leaking slowly over the stone tile floor as he waddled around, clinging to the bedposts or walls when he needed to breathe through a contraction. He didn't allow anyone near him, no one to touch him. Every touch just reminded him of the fact that the person he wanted the most wasn't here. Didn't even know he had to be here.

"Ohh... nghhh..... a-ahh..." Byleth huffed through his latest contraction, sinking into a squat by the end if the bed. "Ch...check.." he ordered softly and allowed a healer to come over and he spread his legs.

"8 centimetres, your grace... Nearly ready for pushing.." Byleth sobbed, his knees buckling so he now sat on the ground, arms supporting him against the bed. He was exhausted, having born the labor so long now. "Help me.."

More healers came over now to help him onto the bed, they wiped his forehead, neck and face down with a cool cloth and massaged his angry contracting midsection in an attempt to help him open up more. Byleth's face was grief stricken, all the hands on him nauseating. They were not who he wanted.

--

"A-Ah..!! A-Aah!!" Byleth moaned loudly, his back arching forward and hands gripping the back of the headboard as his belly clenched tight once again, barely any time for rest between pains now.

This time, the pain came with a new signal. Push!! It said and Byleth gave in easily, beginning to feel the baby finally move lower within him. His breath came quick and shallow as he adjusted to the new feeling of the baby moving and wiggling itself downwards while he pushed. He sobbed again, head lolling to the side as he rested, his hands coming to hug his abdomen.

"G-get out..." He trembled as the healers once again tried to assist."But, your grace! You're about to give birth, we need to-"

"Get out!!" Byleth cried again, curling in on himself and away from them. "Guards!"

"Byleth!" Marianne whimpered as the guards entered in a panic. "Wait!"

"Get them out!" Byleth ordered, tears escaping his eyes now as he grit his teeth and felt the next pain beginning to build. He needed to be alone, he could not stand the idea of these people seeing their baby before Claude could.

"Now!!"

As the healers and Marianne were ushered out Byleth got himself onto his hands and knees and cried out as his body bore down instinctively. His entire body shook with the effort, all his calm overtaken by this desperate need to birth this baby yet also his heart screamed out for his love, that somehow, somehow he knew the pain Byleth was in, what was happening right now, and he was on his way to his side.

But there was simply no way... Claude was in Almyra, a month's trip away at least.. He would have to do this alone.

--

Time passed in a blur, Byleth's pushing alternating between him sobbing from pain and effectively bringing the baby closer.

Another hour went by and only a sliver of the baby's head was visible between the man's lips. Byleth kept his hand there as an anchor to keep himself focused. His sheets were drenched in blood and sweat from all his moving and pushing.

He was anxious, feverish and feeling delirious from pain, his breathing still shallow despite trying to calm himself, he was thinking about his mother. She died to give birth to him, what if... what if he...No.. he couldn't think that way. He was going to see his baby and raise them properly until Claude could see him too.

"Khalid..." he murmured as he tensed for another push, his head falling back against the mattess, eyes squeezed shut as his body squeezed against the burden within. "Khalid....!"

A soft breeze of cool air flittered through the open window, followed by a thump of something heavy dropping onto the ground. Byleth's eyes flung open anxiously, if they were being attacked he would have no way to defend himself in his current state. But instead his eyes met those warm green ones he had come to know so well. Before he could even utter the name he was at his side, pulling him into a warm embrace.

"I'm here, Byleth..." Claude murmured, his lips pressed to the top of Byleth's head, inhaling his scent as he held his lover tightly.

"Khalid..." Byleth sobbed, his hands beginning to cling to the other man, desperate for support as his body clenched harder and more of the baby appeared between his legs even without his efforts. "I-it's coming.. Oh, Gods, its coming out. It hurts."

Claude pulled Byleth close, keeping him as upright as possible while the man pushed and pulled his legs back as much as possible to give room to the emerging baby. "You've done so well Byleth... I'm so sorry, I came as fast as I could..."

"How?" Byleth managed after releasing the push and relaxing against Claude's chest, nuzzling into him for comfort, his scent comforting.

"Lysithea... She performed a portal spell at Marianne's insistence... I understand why you kept it from me By.. but Gods... I should have been here.." Claude's voice shook with pain and concern that Byleth had been in pain for so long all alone. "Where are the others?"

"I sent them away..." Byleth mumbled. "I couldn't bear the thought the baby would be held by anyone but you..." A tired sob ripped from his throat as he felt another contraction build yet again. " I'm so tired Claude... Oh Gods, help me..!!"

He wailed as another contraction built up, stronger and stronger until he was pushing even without conscious effort yet again, the baby's once again making progress, little by little. Inch by painful inch. Even with Claude there comforting him it felt torturous. He thought of his mother again, had she endured this agony for him too?

"a-ahh... mhhh ohhh..." His breaths became sharp and pointed, the widest point of the head finally beginning to crown just as the contraction let up again and the baby receded just slightly. "N-no, please, ah.. ah please..!"

His head turned towards Claude's, catching his lips desperately. The other moaned into it with surprise.

"Please.." Byleth panted anxiously, his hips rolling gently. "I need you..."

Claude didn't need to think twice after hearing that, his mouth caught Byleth's in a firm and deep kiss, his hands wandering down his lover's body, refamiliarizing himself with it. He cupped one of Byleth's supple and plush breasts and gave it a gentle squeeze, earning a soft moan from the other. He noted some milk began to pearl out of it as well; gingerly he used the tip of his finger to catch the drops and licked it, it tasted somewhat salty.

Continuing his groping downward, a quick slide over Byleth's taut frame, over stretchmarks and new love handles, he took the time to admire how full and different Byleth had become since he last saw him.

Byleth's pants and moans as he still struggled to push the child into crowning went on but Claude was almost enraptured by the sight of that belly, clenching with strength down, bringing the baby closer.

Finally he reached down, gently over Byleth's thigh, inner thigh, and then...

"Oh Byleth... you're doing it, love... they're right there ..." His hand cupped the full crown of the head now as he peppered Byleth's face and neck with kisses. The other having dropped his head down against Claude's shoulder, eyes closed and mouth open and panting as he strained to keep the baby's head out. This time the crown stayed.

Claude moved his hand upwards, finding that sensitive little nub and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Oh!" Byleth gasped, his hips bucking towards Claude's hand then relaxing more, nuzzling into the crook of Claude's neck as Claude's hands began to stroke the nub gently. "... y-yes... Oh..."

Claude continued his gentle strokings, letting Byleth adjust and lean into the pleasure between the pain of the stretch. He tried to time the heavier stroking with the contractions, building more and more momentum until finally Byleth spasmed, mouth open in a silent O as he came and the baby's head slipped free.

"That's it! The head's out, Byleth! Gods you're beautiful..."The baby's head was full of little brown curls, and Claude brought Byleth's hand to the head and watched as his love felt around, laughing softly.

"Hello my little love..." Byleth whispered before turning to Claude with a smile. "They... they look like you.""Well, I suppose that's okay. I just hope they'll be more like you in personality" Claude laughed, kissing Byleth's forehead. "One more push, babe.."

A final tense moment and then another shudder as the rest of the body slid out and the baby began to wail as Byleth brought them up to his chest, tears falling from his eyes as he regarded the squaling bloody little baby. He was smiling from ear to ear.Claude's hand joined Byleth's on the baby's back, he kissed Byleth's temple and then used his shoulder to wipe some tears from his eyes. "Oh my gods, Byleth... you did it..."

--

By the time the healers were let in again, Claude had gone, but on Byleth's finger, a green ring with a flower motif decorating around it. A promise for a wedding not too far from now.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

technical guide and example scenario to kissing with a tongue piercing

this started as a shitpost style warmup/hc and then spiraled into a fic which spiraled into a style experiment. p much everything is deliberate except for the lowercase because i don’t believe in capitalization on my phone. now here’s a pretentious makeout scene where neither reader nor claude get the big 4k 120fps big picture at all

tags: gender neutral reader, pre-relationship, requited unrequited pining, oral fixation, making out, implied sexual/suggestive content, yeah i guess claude comes across as a sub here idk i didn’t really consider those dynamics much for this fic but if that means something to you then power to you

⚠ claude and reader jokingly call each other whores

⚠ implied piercing kink, hand/mouth play

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

reader: what’s it like to make out with a tongue piercing

claude: huh

good?? question??? he isn’t a prude but he doesn’t kiss and tell either. that shit stays locked up. he’s a private person no matter how much he likes the one asking questions. unfortunately

claude: why do you ask?

but he does like the person asking the questions. regret courses through him the second he says it aloud.

reader: just curious

reader: it’s just a stud so sometimes i forget you have one but when you’re kissing it’s hard to not notice isn’t it

claude: it could be

reader: can you stick your tongue out?

claude: [he does so]

regret! regret! regret! it’s turned to a flood washing over his thoughts. he chides himself. why are you so obedient, claude, why are you so eager to please, and for the love of god quit thinking like that before you get any ideas!

great. now there’s a nasty little thing called hope twisting through his brain and making it feel emptier than usual.

reader: i guess you’d have to be pretty into it to feel it

claude: [closes his mouth.] i guess

reader: so what’s it like?

reader: kissing, i mean

claude: that’s just your lips so it’s whatever

reader: no, dummy, i mean with tongue

claude: it’s just making out

claude: even i forget it’s there

reader: there’s no difference at all?

claude: woah woah woah woah i didn’t say that

reader: so you do notice it?

claude: well i don't but other people do

reader: is it good?

claude: i hope

claude: i mean

claude: well i don't think it's bad and no one's told me it's bad and i'm not bad [he thinks]

claude: so it's probably good. but i wouldn't know

reader: i should have guessed

claude: [a little.] yeah

claude: i mean

claude: yeah

he feels like he went outside in only boxers and got roped into an all-day affair. admitting things is already too much exposure. there’s so much he wants to say but it’ll take up all the space, ruin the mood. true feelings tend to come out clumsy according to claude.

the shred of hope lingers.

claude: i guess

claude: it’s smooth?

claude: because it’s so small?

claude: and the metal is just like that?

reader: [understanding, theorization]

claude: if it was a hoop it would be different

claude: but it’s not

claude: [unelegantly.] so it’s not

reader: i’m going to ask something stupid

claude: [gets a grip.] hey, i’m stupid

reader: no you aren’t

reader: i wonder what it feels like

claude: is this the question

reader: now it is

reader: can i try?

claude: getting a tongue piercing?

reader: no, kissing you

claude: [a brief sound]

claude: me?

reader: yeah

reader: i want to know how it feels

reader: i won’t be weird i promise

reader: and if not that’s cool

reader: i shouldn’t have brought it up i don’t want to make you feel weird or anything

reader: but i’m

reader: really curious

this is a bad time for his mouth to go dry. claude presses his lips together, only to pry them apart after remembering your request. he needs a swift bonk to the head. cold shower. 50,000 years of solitude. fuck he needs to stop thinking about this.

or keep thinking about this. it’s the best chance he’s got. it hurts his heart thinking about it. it’s indulgence. he can’t let himself pretend but he can’t let go of it either

claude: how are we doing this

reader: i guess we could try kissing first

claude: like frenching or

reader: lips first?

claude: oh right right

aaaaaaaaaa.

he feels giddy and heartbroken. and anxious. and it’s over before he really figured it out

claude: wait

why are lips so malleable? why do the tiniest presses make him feel so? so? giddy-heartbroken-anxious-dirty. this is out of order. friends don’t kiss friends with tension like this. but they are now.

reader: we forgot about the piercing

claude: right

reader: i guess that was a warmup. ha-ha

claude: yeah

claude: here goes nothing

reader: you’re such a dork—

he knows. he could always use the reminder. not now though. instead he refamiliarizes himself with lip on lip, slightly ajar, then rising. a gap between for hot breath to escape. the air grazes the slope of his cheek.

reader: mmh—

anxiety and dirtiness outweigh the other two, and the latter more than the former. he’s kissed before. reader has too. it doesn’t have to mean anything. it doesn’t have to mean anything. he repeats the thought but the message gets lost along the way.

claude: —.

reader nips so claude opens more. predictably so. and traitorously fervent. doesn’t mean nothing. his heart begs for some honesty but he can’t speak, mouth’s a little busy at the moment, not a great time to talk about feelings and whatever. he’d like to but, you know, clumsy words

clumsy tongues

the one over the bite, he means; warmth follows the lick at the tip of your tongue and down his throat and straight to his belly

claude:

you make yourself right at home. the breath is interrupted before it grazes his cheek because your hands rest there instead. claude follows your movements, shadowing as you explore, marking the depths before lulling at the entrance

reader: stay still

claude:

reader:

dammit, obedience, like a subservient dog. trembling like one while reader reenters. he nearly forgot the whole reason they were doing this until it prodded at the soft tip of his tongue.

claude: []

he’d nearly ignored the instruction. he tries not to think of it as a command, not while you trail up his tongue. little swirls that set him at ease and on fire. down onto the central. the answer at the top of the stud.

do NOT hit teeth, claude clawmark. do not hit teeth. he knows how it’s done but it’s so over if he messes up with you. fuck, this is wrong. you can’t be this hot and claude is so going to hell after this.

the metal preserves body heat but it tends to feel cooler to unfamiliar tongues. it’s important to be gentle with this. he licks low and languid, beginning a rhythm. simple circles. shouldn’t be difficult for you to predict the bead. god. what is his life

his laps are simple enough to pick up on. you lay your tongue on his in different positions to feel the stud. at this point claude’s done trying to analyze. his notes are minimal: sometimes you’re flat on his and that’s a strange feeling. the tip seems to have no effect on you, but it hits the space usually glossed over because of the metal so that’s exciting. when you press the sensitive side to the stud, you twitch back, and claude’s urge to chase rears its head.

reader: .

the challenge is taken. and now that the rhythm’s established claude speeds up. the sensation helps filter out the thought that this is an error. not on your part, of course, you’re just curious. that’s exactly why he should have denied: this is never going to happen again and he’s never going to admit how tragic that is.

but you nudge the piercing more, and the pressure makes his heart lurch.

he tilts your chin to his in a moment of surrender.

you play him like a damn instrument. his throat is full of lava boiling over with your touch, each hungrier than the last. the shivers just give you more openings to eat him up

claude: [needs to breathe.] hold on

reader: nngh?

claude: gotta

claude: gotta breathe

claude: christ,

claude: you’re shameless

reader: [between kisses at the corner of claude’s mouth.] yeah, i’m the whore here,

reader: said the guy with a tongue piercing

claude: hey since when are tongue piercings a whore thing

reader: since you kissed me like one

he’d been extremely polite, what the hell. at least, polite compared to what he really wants. still. you’re the one kissing me even when we aren’t using tongue, he thinks. the emotion behind it is unrecognizable.

yet you hum with muffled laughter as you kiss him. for not the first time it registers that he likes making you smile, even at his expense

he likes you but that’s never been a revelation.

and he quite likes how this feels when he tells his conscience to shut the hell up already. he takes your hand

reader: [with curiosity. you'd call it unrecognizable too]

thoughtlessly he holds it to his lips

claude: this is what it feels like when you touch it

the piercing, indeed, feels smooth on your fingertips as it rolls by the pads. his tongue lingers not far behind. those fingers twitch at the blend of tongue and lip; one of them sweetly curls at the stud. it’s always been easy to forget that the piercing is there but especially now as the plush of his lips closes. open-mouthed kisses become closed, leaving the true motions of his tongue—and the piercing, and the finger coiled beside it—they're obscured.

reader: [does it matter?]

reader: [Do the stage directions matter?]

claude: [looks up]

he quite likes the sight too

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi