#but it still seems a bit much that they'd drag their feet to go find him

[championsandheroes]

I'm not even sure who is the most to blame here - the Dalish clan or Duncan. I am, however, certain that they are all to blame for Tamlen's fate.

Have you been abandoned to the mercy of darkspawn by your friends and/or family? You may be entitled to compensation. Go to Patreon or society6 to learn more.

[bamgyw]

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ the second night ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

the spiritualization of sensuality is called love: it is a great triumph over christianity. - friedrich nietzsche

warnings: +18 getting hornier. pillow,, humping,, heh. a tiny bit of voyeurism as well? fingering. and a lot of male yearning we love that, we love a desperate man. a/n: team we made it to the smut. the hand kissing bit is kind of victorian. jane austen, even. but. i don't care. i’m not 100% happy with the outcome so it might get a little edited in the (distant) future, but nothing fundamental. this is a part of a longer work ♡ go to the beginning here

"i am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses."

beomgyu stumbled upon that quote within the pages of a stolen copy of a book by nietzsche. he had always found himself more drawn to the destructive lunacies of clinically depressed germans than to the saving grace of the holy scriptures. there was no self-pitying in the bible, no self-indulgent sorrow to hold on to.

he had found that book, thus spoke zarathustra, in soobin's room, tossed in the trash. it looked almost new, so he took it out of curiosity.

"why are you throwing this away?" beomgyu asked.

soobin shrugged. "it's a good read if you're a happy person," he said. "but if you're miserable, it'll rot your brain. more spiritual talk and petty self-help in there than in the bible."

but beomgyu quietly took the book without soobin noticing, and he carried it in his back pocket ever since.

he had no intention of reading it from cover to cover, but sometimes he would flip absentmindedly through the pages, fixating on some passages. and that one specifically had reminded him of you. his new meaning. the rose he found in the darkness.

during the day, beomgyu usually roamed aimlessly around the town, drifting along with the rhythms of his headphones. that was pretty much the sum of his daily human activity since he quit college.

it was all he knew how to do, and often felt like all he was good for.

as he walked through the town, the familiar sounds of honking cars, distant sirens, and murmuring conversations mixed with the music in his headphones. the air was thick with the scent of seawater and the faint, sour smell of industry. it was a crummy town, sordid. each step felt heavy, purposeless, leading him nowhere.

he had a few favorite spots he liked to hang around - the port where the boats came in, or the grimy industrial estate where the addicts gathered. they all knew his dad pretty well. and maybe if they knew beomgyu was the son of the man who supplied them with their shit, they'd treat him better. but that's a secret he kept to himself.

instead, he joined in on their petty fights, easily swayed by whatever side fit his mood that day. he was better at fighting than them, but the victory was hollow. he was younger, his body was not rotten –not completely– and he had full motor control over his limbs. but he got pleasure from winning, anyway. he liked to exert some control over someone else for once. 

still, that day he didn't walk to any of his usual spots. he had been feeling a sorrow less violent, an ominous need for silence. his feet, barely in conversation with his brain, dragged him to the town's small church.

he had never really stopped at the church before, just passed by without giving it much thought. but now, standing there, he realized it was probably the most beautiful building in town.

every other construction felt fake, in plastic and plasterboard, but the wooden church had been crafted by the artisan hands of a carpenter and build up by a community. it seemed to be lovingly nursed, too. though the church meant little to him, it was obviously fundamental to others.

when lost and adrift, beomgyu would wander, getting into fights and ruining himself. but under similarly pitiable conditions, others came to the chapel like it was a second home, sometimes safer than their own. beomgyu wished he had something like that, too.

the building was small, but cute. surrounded by a little forest of old camellia trees, its walls painted a crisp white. it was an old building, but it was thoroughly taken care of. the air was different, cleaner, carrying the earthy scent of the camelliae and the faint fragrance of blooming flowers.

beomgyu liked how the wooden cross crowned the roof, marking the building, never allowing anyone to go astray. it must feel good, he thought, to have some guidance like that when you don't know where to go. a flower in the desert, a light in the darkness.

he knew he was being stupid and overemotional. he had never believed in all this religious stuff, and he never would. his relationship with god, if there even was one, was mostly based in resentment. if god was real, he could've treated him better.

and still, he didn't dare to enter the chapel out of some reverential respect he didn't even know he was capable of. so he just stood there, staring at the chapel, feeling small.

he took a deep breath. his cheek still burned where you had kissed him the night before. he really was going out of his mind.

"i want her so bad. and i think she might want me too." he prayed. to the church, to its wood, to the camellia trees, to the sky –he didn't know, he didn't care. "please let me be with her. please don't hurt her because of it, or shame her, or kick her out or whatever it is you do with sinners. i promise it’s not a bad thing. it’s so much purer than you think." he said.

no one answered, of course. there was just silence. some ruffling of the leaves because of the breeze, maybe the trebling chirp of a bird, but no answer. he felt like an idiot.

praying sucked, he ratified. how could you even make sure you were being listened to? it was emotional manipulation, playing with one's hope. feeling down and disappointed, he left.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

entering soobin’s house again would have felt like torture, were it not for the certainty that you lived there, too.

soobin never really left the house. he only went out to go to class in the mornings, and he still chose to skip as many as he could. not because he wasn't a good student, he was disturbingly accomplished. he just disliked the people.

every day, soobin locked himself in his room and studied relentlessly. he was determined to make something of himself and leave his stepfather’s house behind. he had a plan. beomgyu didn’t know the details of this plan—soobin never shared it, fearing it might be jinxed if spoken aloud—but it was clear that soobin believed hard work could get him out of that miserable house.

beomgyu thought that rhetoric too optimistic, alienated from reality. but still, he had some admiration for him. unlike beomgyu, who wallowed in his own misery instead of changing his situation, soobin searched for solutions.

beomgyu sometimes found him too sickly and rancorous, but he still looked up to him for his willpower. not that he would ever admit that to soobin.

so when beomgyu got to the house, certain that soobin would be there, he gave him a call. it was a code they had. soobin leaned out of his bedroom window, and threw down the keys for beomgyu to catch so that he could make his way in. 

as beomgyu climbed the creaky wooden stairs, he realised that the usual thrill and allure of sneaking around that house he had felt at night was dimmed in the daylight. he hated the smell of that place, too. the air inside was stuffy, filled with the faint scent of old wood and something slightly medicinal.

as he reached the top floor on his way to soobin’s room, he passed by a closed door. pristine surface, painted white. he knew immediately. a pink mother-of-pearl crucifix hung on the wood.

he stood in front of it, his heart quickening. inside that room lived his little bird, trapped in an evil cage. his angel, his obsession. he gladly would’ve shattered the door with his own hands. let his knuckles bleed, let the splintered wood stab into his fingers. he just wanted to take you away and set you free.

at first he maintained a cautionary distance. he feared that if he got any closer, he would actually do it. but then he saw the little plaque under the cross, in sterling silver, shining when the light hit it. he approached to read what it said.

"the lord is faithful. he will establish you and guard you against the evil one." it said.

beomgyu scoffed, a bitter smile curling his lips. like some metal plaque could protect her, he thought. he's the only dangerous thing in her life. that superstitious fool.

he found it bitterly amusing, to the point of feeding his ego. some cultures hang garlic on the doors to keep away the vampires and the witches. your daddy had hanged a nacre cross to keep choi beomgyu away from you.

he let his hand reach for the crucifix. he traced his fingers over it, middle and index. all the doors had a crucifix of their own, but yours was the only one that wasn't a choppy piece of wood, crude and utilitarian. his thoughts wandered as his fingers brushed over the cool, smooth surface. he must be aware of how pretty she is, beomgyu thought.

as he did, a noise startled him. he jolted away from the door, retreating as far as he could. only when he saw it was just soobin coming out of his room did he catch his breath.

“you were taking too long,” soobin said, his expression gloomy. “i didn’t like it.”

“you care for me that much?” beomgyu asked, a bitter grin spreading across his face as he walked up to him, hands in his pockets.

"well, i let you into my house, didn't i?" he asked, accusative.

"you did." beomgyu replied. “it's not versailles, but it’s cute. lots of quirky decorations.” he shrugged, poking at the crucifix that hanged on soobin’s door, tilting it slightly. "it's like a theme park."

"eveything’s a joke to you." soobin replied. he seemed distrusting, his chest filled with something he probably shouldn't say. but he did, anyway. “you need to forget about her."

“what are you talking about?” beomgyu raised his tone, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes, quickly masked by anger.

“i know you. you’re going to let your impulsiveness ruin everything for all of us. it won’t end well.” soobin said. “she's not like one of those girls you used to pick up at private schools. if you want to manipulate your way into someone's pants, choose someone else.”

beomgyu’s anger flared. how dared he imply those were his intentions? how dared he assume he had any other purpose than caring for his angel and godsend grace?

he took a violent step towards soobin, who flinched slightly but held his ground. “you think i’m dorian gray or some shit?” beomgyu retorted. “you're just pressed because i'm not a pussy like you, restraining yourself to please that maniac. but whatever happens, it won’t be because i forced myself on anyone."

“she doesn’t know what she wants." soobin said. "she’s confused and love deprived.”

“and you’re a patronising asshole,” beomgyu snapped back. "who are you to say anything?"

“you’re playing with fire. if you wanna be a psychotic masochist, fine. but don’t drag others into your mess. get yourself hurt if you want, but leave us out of it.”

“us?" beomgyu asked with a wicked grin. "she's an adult. she can make her own choices. and if your stepdad wants to mess with her because of it, it´ll be over my fucking dead body."

“is this how you repay me for letting you stay in my house?” soobin asked, a mix of hurt and frustration in his eyes.

“thing is," beomgyu began with a cynical laugh. "this isn’t about you. you shouldn’t be this bothered,” he said. “and if you are, maybe you should check yourself and see if you’re acting like your stepfather.”

soobin’s knuckles turned white, but he took a deep breath and held it in. “just. don’t do it." he said through gritted teeth. "it’s not worth it.”

but beomgyu grinned wickedly. he had one last bombshell, one last thing to get soobin fuming. “i’ll let you know if it's worth it or not when i have your sister go dumb on my cock.” he said, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction.

he shouldn't have said it.

instead of getting angry, as he had intended to accomplish, soobin smirked, too. it was unsettling. beomgyu got a ghostly feeling about it.  "what is it?" he spat out.

soobin inclined his head slightly towards the room with the mother-of-pearl cross—the room of his little bird. beomgyu turned just in time to catch a sliver of a prying eye, peeking through a barely open door. your eye widened when it met beomgyu’s gaze, then you vanished, the door slamming shut.

shit. beomgyu's heart raced, his breath hitching.

soobin smiled, a hint of triumph in his eyes. "consider her warned."

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

late at night, thoughts of you consumed beomgyu’s mind. he knew he had fucked up. he knew that now you probably thought he was a creep and never wanted to see him again. his mind raced, replaying the words he wished he could take back.

he could’ve played his cards right. go slow, ease you into it. but he wasn't that sure now. the uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his insides with each passing thought.

soobin's room felt even stuffier than the night before, the air heavy and oppressive. the walls seemed to close in on him, making it hard to breathe. the need to see you pressed down on his chest, but lingering doubt kept him glued to the mattress.

a lone fly buzzed around, its annoying droning echoing through the room and fraying his nerves. each pass it made seemed to grow louder, amplifying his sense of confinement, maddening him.

his mind wouldn't shut up about you. you had struck him as someone who knew how to watch your back. he recalled how cautious you had been around him the previous night, like a dog used to being beaten flinches at the sight of a stick. but your eyes had never left his. not for a second. they seemed innocent, but not naive.

he liked that, he thought. that you were like him, smartened up by your environment. but he liked the innocence too, so much. an untouched you, drowning in chasteness and self-restrain.

uncaressed belly, uncaressed thighs, uncaressed sweet pussy. he could make you feel so good. that was all he could offer, all he could give you. he had nothing else.

he knew he should let the thought go. that he should start wrapping his mind around forgetting about you. but it was late, and he was tired, and the only picture that lingered in his mind was a pearl choker and a rosary over a tender neck.

with soobin's steady breathing beside him, perhaps even asleep, beomgyu lay staring at the ceiling. images of you fluttered behind his closed eyelids, all imaginations of his lovesick mind. illicit, probably, but fated.

he thought of your pretty lips whispering praises meant for him, kissing his cheeks, his jaw, the curve of his neck. he wanted to know the taste of your mouth, the softness of your touch.

had you even been kissed yet? with a father as twisted as yours, it seemed unlikely. beomgyu wanted you to never have been kissed. he wanted to teach you how to do it himself. eat your mouth out, nibble at your lips and press them gently. but not hurt you. that was new. 

he would start slow, so that you’d want more of him. then he'd deepen the kiss, his grip on you tight, giving into whatever you asked for, never letting you go hungry. the tingling started, the blood pumping.

pause. he thought as soon as he became aware that he was getting hard. his rational mind tried to assert control, to rein in his desires. you loser, just by thinking of kissing. be cold-minded. a voice told him. actions have consequences. 

the voice sounded a little like him, but it was surely an imposter. if it wasn't impulsive and hot-blooded, then it wasn't choi beomgyu. 

"i just want to apologise." he lied to himself as he sat up all of the sudden.

he slipped out of bed, his bare feet padding softly against the cool floor. he moved slowly, mindful of the creaking floorboards that threatened to betray his movements.

but a subtle rustle, not caused by him, echoed in the quiet room. the soft shuffle of fabric against skin. soobin was awake, and he had wanted to let him know. but beomgyu couldn't begin to care.

as he closed the door behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible, a sudden thud reverberated through the silence. "shit!" he cursed under his breath. another door in that corridor slammed shut with a resounding roar.

someone left a window open. air currents cause noise, beomgyu mused as he made his way down the dimly lit corridor, his steps quickening with purpose. tomorrow night, he thought, he would make sure all windows were closed before going to bed.

as he travelled the shadowy corridor, he got a chill. he kept hearing the ruffling of fabric, a doorknob twisting, steps against the wooden floor. a shiver went down his spine, but he told himself to forget about. it was all in his head.

he refused to let the silent threat your daddy stop him from seeing you. that liar, that imposter, that self-proclaimed god keeping everyone hostage in his castle of authoritarianism and indoctrination.

when he got to your door, the mother-of-pearl crucifix halted him like a policeman. it seemed more commanding now than it had earlier. it was stupid, he thought, how the night enhanced every feeling. 

the cross regarded him and he regarded the cross. “i just want to apologise,” he told jesus christ. “i said something stupid earlier today, and i wanna make better.” he tried to convince him.

it was just a symbolic plea. a desperate attempt to absolve himself of guilt, to make him feel less lustful, less like a pig. to find redemption in the eyes of a higher power. 

he thought about what soobin had said, about god, about your father, about right and wrong. maybe he wasn't as smart as he thought. maybe he was loosing the game and they were all making him go insane for good.

he debated whether to just turn back after the thought came to him that you didn't even want him there, anyway. how could you want him at all, after just one meeting where all he received was rejection?

sure, he got a quick kiss in the end, but it didn't outweigh the pulling away, the uncertainty, the avoidance. what was he worth, really? nothing. not even worth enduring a scolding from your dad, let alone the weight of guilt. he was making a fool of himself. better leave now before anyone got hurt for nothing.

but as he turned to walk away, his heart heavy and ready to toss aside, he heard a noise from inside the room.

a whimper. it was so faint he was sure his febrile mind had made it up. that he was so schizophrenically in lust he had made you escape that sound in his brain. a whimper. a sweet soft whimper. 

he tried to make sense of it by convincing himself that he heard you crying. he even allowed his sense of self-importance to fuel thoughts of bursting into the room and offering you his shoulder to cry on. to cuddle you, to comfort you.

but when he heard it the second time, his breath caught. this time it was a moan, unless his yearning mind was deceiving him. he pressed his ear to the door. he clearly heard a trail of soft muffled moans. restrained, but just so lewd to his feverish self. his face burned, his cock twitched.

index and middle finger reached slowly for the doorknob. they brushed over it, hesitating. maybe it was locked. and maybe that was for the better. the hand wrapped around it, twisted it slightly. it was open.

holding his breath almost to asphyxiation and in the most silent motion he had ever performed, he peaked in. 

god existed, he found out. his mouth went dry. like a bird in the clouds, surrounded by snowy plush blankets, he saw his little dove making herself feel so good against her pillow.

facing away from him, your legs draped on each side of it. your hips swayed, heavy and slow, as you tried to suppress the soft whimpers your throat escaped.

beomgyu pressed his lips together, teeth sinking into his lower lip until almost drawing blood. the messy nightdress, one delicate strap slipping off your shoulder. how the the silken fabric fell over your ass, not letting him see but inviting him to find out.

he wanted to see your doll face twisting in pleasure so desperately. to have you take in his cock and use him to fuck yourself so sweetly like that. only one door was stopping him. the door with the pink mother-of-pearl crucifix.

as though hypnotised, he quietly entered the room.

but when the door closed behind him with a click, you whirled around, eyes wide and breath catching in your throat. he froze in panic, too, as he saw how frightened you seemed. what the fuck were you expecting, you disgusting perv? came in the voice in his head.

your instinct was to retreat like a scared spider, flitting towards the head of your bed. fluffy white pillows framed your trembling body, with only a glimpse of your leg peeking out. your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, almost to an unhealthy degree, as you tried to cover yourself.

beomgyu took a cautious step forward, his obsession with you feeling safe in his presence outweighing how turned on he was. "please," he whispered, desperation in his voice. "don't be embarrassed." he said. or be. you're so adorable, all flustered like this.

"i… i'm sorry," you stuttered, your words hesitant.

beomgyu raised his eyebrow, an endeared chuckle escaping his lips. "you're sorry?"

"i shouldn't have… i…" you struggled, avoiding his gaze and pressing your hands to your head in frustration. anxiously, you began to hit your head with the heels of your hands. "i'm so pathetic."

without hesitation, beomgyu rushed closer, wrapping his hands around your wrists in the world’s softest handcuffs. "not at all," he murmured softly, his voice soothing as he attempted to coax your frightened gaze to meet his own.

quietly, almost reverently, he knelt at the edge of the bed, perching himself over the mattress like a praying supplicant.

he was so fucking hard, his blood boiling inside his pulsating veins. scorchingly, painfully. his hands trembled a bit on your wrists as he struggled to contain himself, like the scorpion resisting the urge to sting the frog and drown them both.

“i loved seeing you like that.” he managed out, eyes fixated on yours. “i’m the pathetic one, i sneaked in here like some creep. i... i'm so sorry about what i said earlier today. i was mad at soobin, trying to get under his skin. but i'm kinder than that. i can be, for you. you shouldn’t be scared of me. please.” 

"i’m not." you said.

"good," he said. "i want you to trust me."

"i think... i think i do."

beomgyu took one of your hands, already entwined with his, and raised it to his lips, planting a delicate kiss on the back. you didn't pull away, though a slight flinch ran through you. his voice, soft and concerned, cut through the quiet, "is this alright?"

you met his gaze, his eyes looking up at you dilated and pleading like a puppy's. you nodded silently, allowing him to continue.

he pressed his lips against your skin a few more times, the wet sounds his mouth made filling the room. with a heavy breath, you took in every detail of his gentle kisses—the way his plump lips pressed and nibbled at your skin, how slow, almost ritualistically.

"what were you thinking about?" he asked, his voice a muffled purr against your skin.

"w-what?" you stammered, trying to buy time as your mind raced to come up with a lie less embarrassing than the truth.

"you were so pretty like that just now, all spread out like a good girl...” he murmured softly, "tell me what got you like that."

you stalled. with an achingly slow movement, you mirrored his action. you brought his hand to your mouth, and brushed your lips over it. barely touched, almost imperceptibly.

a shiver down his spine. a sting to his heart. he watched you in awed stillness, his watering mouth half-open. then you whispered, "you."

"fuck, i– i want to do so many things to you. if you'll let me." he said. a blush crept across your cheeks as you instinctively tried to shy away, but his fingers beneath your chin guided you back to meet his gaze. "what did i do to get you like that? was it because of what you heard me say?" he asked.

"because of everything." you replied.

he moved up from the floor with deliberate slowness, each motion purposeful as if he were approaching a skittish forest creature, determined not to scare it away. cautious, he inched closer, finally settling beside you on the bed. "tell me." he said. "i wanna hear."

"you're smarter than daddy," you began to say, your voice mumbled, as you gazed at him, his features so close you could count the flecks of gold in his eyes. "daddy thinks he's god's chosen one, but you keep outplaying him. so what does that make you?"

"a hellhound," he replied with a cynical smile, drawing even nearer.

"no," you said softly, shaking your head in disagreement. "you're good. and you're sweet to me." with tender care, you brushed his bangs, your fingertips delicately tracing the contours of his face like a child exploring a new toy. you lingered over his brows, his long lashes, the graceful curve of his cupid's bow, and the strong line of his jaw. "and you're… really pretty."

an impulse like a mighty wave of devotion pushed beomgyu to cup your face, his thumb tracing delicate lines over your skin as he asked, voice barely more than a whisper, "have you ever been kissed?"

"yes." you nodded. though there was a flicker of fear in your eye, like he would've been disappointed at that lack of purity. but if he did, he said nothing.

"show me how you do it." he urged, his words a gentle plea as he drew closer, his breath mingling with yours.

you leaned in painfully still, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you. but just before your lips met, you paused. hesitated. this changed everything. but beomgyu met your gaze unwaveringly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or doubt. then, with a soft smile, he encouraged you forward.

you brushed your lips against his, ever so slightly. it was a trembling little touch. chaste. when you pulled away, beomgyu's eyes remained fixed on you, half closed and drunk in longing.

he gently pivoted the hand that had cupped your face, trailing its back along the curve of your cheekbone to finally rest it at the nape of your neck. "so pretty," he whispered. "why are you so scared?"

"i don't want to disappoint you," you mumbled softly.

beomgyu's response was immediate, a fervent shake of his head. "never," he insisted, his voice a husky plea, "you're doing so well. please, kiss me again."

with trembling fingers, you reached up to his neck, your heartbeat a wild rhythm in your chest. you nestled his upper lip within yours. a little more intensely this time, but still experimental, like you were gingerly trying to color within the lines.

beomgyu was gone. you were so soft and plush and just so scared to do anything wrong. he lingered, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "they're mine now," he said in a low growl.

he took over, giving you a deep wet kiss. unrestrained, heavy like a lion’s roar. as you moved your lips together, beomgyu demanded more and more, leaving you breathless. one of his hands rested on your thigh, tentatively stroking, fondling over the skin, as if to soothe you, to tell you everything was alright.

he tilted his head, seeking depth in your mouth. one of your hands traced up the length of his chest and reached his neck, which you squeezed tightly as you felt his mouth opening yours to let his tongue in. you tensed. he noticed. “do you like that?” he asked, breath heavy.

“i... yes."

and so he did it again. another painfully lusty kiss that left your lips soaked and swollen. you escaped a moan that he loved so desperately, making him bite on your lower lip, drawing another embarrassingly whiny whimper out of you. after a softer peck, he outlined the bitten skin with his tongue.

he devoured your lips again, eating out your mouth. he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to circle yours, playing with it; then he pulled back, as if urging you to follow him. he wanted you to try yourself.

his hand on your thigh moved to embrace your waist, fingers poking into your skin. you felt firm, secure. in the middle of the unbridled kiss, your tongue ended up in his mouth. so soft. my good little girl. he let out a grunt of satisfaction. happy with his reaction, your instinct got you to hold on to him tighter, trying to find a closeness that was impossible in that position.

he got frustrated at it, too, his groans turning into hummed pleading moans against your lips. for a painful second, he pulled away to say, "let me watch you fuck yourself, just like you were when i came in. please." he said. "would you be comfortable with that?" he asked. 

you nodded slightly, though you weren't even sure you were telling the truth. they were irreconcilable, avoiding embarrassment and giving in to the aching sensation in your pussy the moment he spoke those words.

he stretched his arm out toward the pillow, gently offering it to you, observing as you knelt on the bed and retook the position he had found you in. he helped you through it, caring for you with caresses and soft kisses, but he went back to seat at the edge of the mattress, gnawing lightly on his lip with anticipation. you didn't want that, you realised. you wanted him close.

you reached out your hand for him to grasp, "what is it, baby?" he asked, tending to you with gravity.

you guided him towards you, maneuvering him to recline half-seated against the bedhead. he caught on to your intentions and leaned in to give you a gentle peck before allowing his hands to settle on your hips, helping you in adjusting the pillow beneath you.

now on all fours, with him facing you, he noticed you wanted to say something, the words lingering on your lips. "is everything alright?" he asked, his hand tenderly caressing your arm.

you stammered a bit before shyly asking, “can you keep on kissing me?”

he smiled fondly. he would never in a million years be able say no to you. “of course, my angel.”

he drew nearer, his proximity warming you up. having him there like that, you didn't need to support yourself on your arms- instead, you found yourself instinctively clinging to his neck. with a mellow kiss and his hands firmly securing their hold on your hips, he led the start of the back and forward motion.

the first reactions the rubbing of your clit against the fabric drew out were subdued, mere soft moans and gentle breaths mingling with his the plush of beomgyu’s lips. but with his grasp pressing you down, those initial movements evolved into more intense and profound ones.

he let one of his hands abandon your hips to entwine his fingers in the strands of your hair. the louder your moans got, the tighter his grip on it. he was so hard, with no escape for it. but he liked the pain, the desperation. "you sound so beautiful, fuck–" he breathed out. "but i'm gonna feel so much better than that."

the promise echoed in your mind, getting you to let out a crying plead, "p-please, beomgyu..." you moaned out, as you fumbled with your hand to find his.

"you want me to help you out?" he asked, almost like it was a privilege.

"mhm," you whimpered with a sheepish, frantic nods.

"cute." he breathed out. his face was flushed and burning hot, his cock ached uncomfortably, but he spartanly focused on his little angel’s pleasure above anything else.

he wrapped his arms around your waist and took you to his lap, where he held you tight. "are you comfortable like this?" he asked, placing a a soft peck to your forehead.

"yes." you answered, embarrassingly. you were wet to the point of dampening your inners thighs, and you were mortified to have him see, to even stain him. but he'd notice soon enough.

he grunted as he kept on kissing down your face. your temples, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth, your ridiculously tasty lips. he held on to your waist for dear life with one of his arms, but allowed the other to travel down, slowly and deviantly towards your virgin pussy.

"you're soaked, my baby." he breathed out. you would've felt self-conscious at the exposure, but you saw in his eyes how bad he liked it. how starved and aroused he seemed when he began to caress your wet cunt with his slender fingers.

his cold touch startled you at first, making you hold on to his neck tighter. you were too sore, too sensitive. "don't be scared. i'm gonna take such good care of you," he said. "i promise."

tentatively, he stroked over the surrounding area of your aching centre, index and middle finger touching softly over your wetness. he performed circling motions in your clit, taking his time. getting to hear you. “b-beomgyu, you—god—you feel really good…”

he learned that when you liked something he did, you'd shower him in desperate soft pecks, like a puppy licks your hand after you pat its head. he wanted to see you react further, he wanted to try it all. he spread your pussy with both fingers and pressed forcefully against your throbbing clit with a third one. startled, you clutched his hair so firmly you feared you might have hurt him.

as by instinct, your thighs twitched from the overstimulation and seemed to want to close around his hand, but he didn't let them. he shushed into your lips with a soft "shhh," soothing as the seashore before leaning in for a honeyed kiss. he traced patterns against your cheek with his nose after pulling away. "its alright. you're doing so fucking well."

he let you catch your breath, but not for too long. he quickened his pace, your moans getting too loud, wept out and filthy enough to horrify all the saints in the house of god. it became a duel of you trying to suppress yourself and keep it quiet, and beomgyu trying to get everyone in the house to know how good he was for you.

to restrain the growing sound of your moaning, you buried your face into beomgyu’s neck, trying to muffle your voice against his body. but he huffed into your ear, "don't hold back. only you and me matter, no one else."

"i think i–" you whimpered into his ear, choking on your own puffs. the pleasure crept up on you, becoming too strong to bear and making your whole body shudder against his. "beomgyu, please..." you cried out.

he saw how close you were, and quickly thought if he should or should not stop it. tease you, edge you, have you go on all night. he could do so many things, he ached so much to do them all. but as he saw your pretty face so desperate to cum, how needy and palpitating, you were, he decided he had all the time in the world.

his movements quickened, each motion filled with urgency and strength. his veiny, strained forearm bore the weight of the world as he got you to your peak.

you came with a stifled cry but you muted your voice against his neck again. he wished he could've heard it in its full, piercing clarity, but he understood. you were so sheepish, his perfect little girl.

he didn't pull his hand away immediately, instead letting you feel his warmth for a little longer as you trembled against his chest. "my baby, you did so well," he whispered into your ear, his voice a soothing balm as he gently cradled your body.

now that the tension had drained from your limbs, you found yourself collapsing against him, your body limpy and worn out. it was then that you noticed the bulge in his pants. "beomgyu…" you murmured, your voice heavy. "teach me how to help you out."

"forget about me," he replied with a gentle smile. "i just wanted to get you to trust me tonight. to show you how good i can make you feel." 

you gazed at him, cherishing his handsome features. his cheeks were flushed, too, and his eyes so gentle. you couldn't help but cup his face in your hands, drawn to him. but as you leaned in to kiss him, he stopped you faintly, saying, "wait. don't kiss me. i want you to have something to look forward to, so you'll be excited to see me again tomorrow."

"you'll come back tomorrow?" you asked, your eyes lighting up with hope.

“i couldn’t stay away even if i wanted to,” he replied. but as he said it, he noticed a flicker of guilt crossing your face. gently, he brushed a strand of hair away from your reddened cheek. "how are you feeling?" he asked softly.

your gaze darkened slightly. "like i shouldn't have done it," you admitted. "like daddy saw everything."

"i'm… sorry," beomgyu said, his voice full of consternation.

"no, it's not your fault. those thoughts aren't real. i can make the guilt go away, in time," you reassured him. "but i like it when you hold me. that's real. i… like you. a lot, i think."

beomgyu didn't even know what to say. he struggled to understand how this could be wrong to any human religion or faith since the dawn of time, because to him this felt like heaven. he held you in his arms, all flushed and a little tired, your lips swollen like ripe cherries from the kisses he had given you. this was fucking nirvana for all he cared.

he deeply regretted his no-kissing rule, and he sought to end it immediately. he leaned in, but you stopped him.

"no," you chuckled, "don't kiss me. i want you to have something to look forward to so that you're excited to come back tomorrow."

he smiled back at you, like an absolute fool. maybe he was in love, even if it only had been a day, whatever. but how could he not be when he had the cutest being in existence all to himself? "give me a gift before i go, then," he said. "something i can carry with me.

"what do you want?" you asked.

"this," he said, pointing at your rosary beads. with a gesture that felt almost ceremonial, you took off the pendant and placed it around his neck. as you did, he couldn’t help but stare at your lips. "can’t i kiss you just a little?" he pouted.

you shook your head with a soft giggle. "your rules," you reminded him. "be stronger."

“fine. have it your way.”

he smiled, but it quickly vanished as you remembered him; “you should go. or soobin will know.”

he nodded, eyes filled with disappointment. the moment you lifted yourself off his lap, detached yourself off of him, an intense wave of pain surged through both of you. like a limb had been atrociously ripped off your body.

but just as he was about to leave, you grabbed his wrist, halting him. “beomgyu, wait,” you called out, rising to your knees to meet his gaze.

you pressed a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek, just as you had done the night before. the softness of your touch sent a shiver down his spine. as you pulled back, beomgyu instinctively leaned forward, craving more. but you placed your index finger against his lips, stopping him. “you’re so weak,” you teased with a playful glint in your eyes.

he smiled ruefully. “i am,” he admitted with a sigh, the weight of reality settling back in. he really had to leave. “good night,” he murmured.

stepping out into the dark, the world felt colder, and his eyes struggled to adjust to the dimness. he lingered for a moment, leaning his back against the door, not wanting to leave just yet, but his head bumped against something.

of course.

he turned around to regard the crucifix, holding the one you had given him in his hands. same color, same material. a bittersweet smile played on his lips. “she was so good,” he told jesus christ. “and i think i made her happier, just a little. i feel a little happier too. i told you, it was much purer than you think.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ so. i really struggled through this one. lemme know what you think.

[atinylittlepain]

Unexpected expectings universe where Joel loves their kids so much it makes him selfish and he wants another. So they’re fucking and he’s begging to come inside her and for another baby 😭

so here's the thing

warnings | 18+ alcohol consumption, allusions to smut

having Libby was already a huge emotional, psychological, logistical challenge for the both of them. i just don't think they'd ever even consider having another baby, at least not when they're in their right minds.

however...

There is one time, a little bit after Libby's second birthday, that Tommy manages to get Joel completely sloshed at the Tipsy Bison after a shift. The stubborn fool just cannot back down from a challenge, something that Tommy knows all too well, and had used to his advantage when he bet Joel that he could outdrink him.

Joel goes stumbling home, and when he finds his woman sitting on the couch, bare legs up while she reads a book, his mind goes a little paleolithic.

All she gets from him is a warbly smile before he's literally laying down on top of her, burying his face in her neck and taking a deep inhale of her scent.

"Smell so good, darlin. Always smell so good- and soft-" he cuts himself off with a hiccup that jostles the both of them with its force.

"So soft and pretty- I wanna-" another hiccup, her frustration growing as his words slobber over her neck.

"Wanna see you all soft and round again- give you another-" hiccup, she shoves at his shoulders, trying to get him to at least lift his face from where he's nuzzling into her shoulder now.

"Give you another baby" Oh shit. She freezes under him, before pressing her palm to his forehead to finally get him to look at her. His eyes are glassy, a dopey little smile hanging on his lips, and it all clicks for her.

"How much have you had to drink?" He grunts, shrugging a little. The moment she takes her hand away from his forehead, his face drops back down into her neck, a little "oof" leaving his lips.

"C'mon, mama. You're so- so good with our girls- lemme give you another one." His words are a thick slur, mumbled together between startling hiccups. She's heard quite enough, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging lightly to coax his head back up.

"Oh, Joel. What am I gonna do with you?" His sweet little smile turns into a smarmy grin at that.

"Well I've got a few thoughts actually." She has to laugh. It's rare to see Joel Miller so completely off his head. Unfortunately, he takes her giggling as a good sign, and swoops in for a sloppy kiss. The taste of him confirms her suspicions, and she promptly shoves him off of her. He flops back against the couch cushions, wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm.

"You want it like that tonight? I don't mind it a little rough, darlin." Jesus h. christ. She's never going to let him live this down.

She wordlessly gets up off the couch, grabbing both his wrists to haul him up onto his feet. He slings his arm over her shoulders, hanging a lot of his weight off her as he noses at the side of her face, all while she tries to drag him further through the house.

"You takin me upstairs, mama? I like it when you take charge." She passes right by the stairs, hauling him to the back of the house and out the backdoor, onto the porch in their backyard. She manages to get him down the stairs of the porch and onto the grass, the stupid grin on his face still present as he looks down at her.

"What're we doing out- outside?" It's more of a whine than a question as he tosses his head back on his neck. She has to stifle another laugh.

"You stay right there, ok? I'll be right back with a surprise." That grabs his attention fast, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

"A surprise?" She nods, trying to look as serious as possible.

"Mmhmm, but you have to wait right there." When it seems like he really is going to stay in place, after a few failed attempts in which she had to shove him back by his shoulders, she turns to walk around the side of the house. She cranks on the spigot to the garden hose, unraveling it and dragging it back with her.

He grins at her when she pops back around into the backyard, opening his arms out wide.

"I'm ready for my surprise, dar-" Joel doesn't get to finish that particular sentence, not when he yelps as she pulls the hose from behind her back and sprays him with a jet of cold water. She drenches him, even as he lets out a string of curses. His shirt is soaked, sticking to his chest, and his jeans are a much darker shade of blue. His eyes are wide as he looks at her, stuck shocked where he stands.

"When you're sobered up and done acting like a fool you can come inside and dry off."

The next morning, squinting behind a pounding headache, he has to beg her not to tell Tommy about what happened. He'd never let him live it down. She agrees, but on the condition that he has to take on toilet training Libby.

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

She’s your 1-UP Girl

[AO3 Link]

Bowser’s latest scheme had dragged Peach and thus pulled Mario and Luigi rather close to New Donk City, closer than they'd been since Bowser had stolen Peach away for a wedding what felt like a lifetime ago. Apparently, the city’s exorbitant Power Moon energy stores were too tempting to resist.

And this time, Mayor Pauline hadn’t wanted to sit back and let her city suffer, so in the Mario bros’ final confrontation with Bowser in his pop-up fortress she was there too, still in her mayoral attire and a golf club tightly grasped in her hand as she helped Peach out of the rope she’d been tied up in. A golf club that was stronger than it looked, seeing as it was able to deflect a stray fireball that had escaped the veritable dust cloud the Marios' thrashing of Bowser had generated.

“Are you alright, Princess?” Pauline asked, out of breath from the surprise.

“I-I’m fine, thank you,” Peach replied absently, slightly more focused on the flyaway hairs that had escaped from under Pauline’s hat during that snap act of protection.

“You sure? You’re looking a little...” Pauline fanned her face. “This guy really knows how to bring on the heat, doesn't he?” She grinned wryly at Peach, easygoing despite the circumstances, and it certainly didn't help the blush on her cheeks glow any dimmer.

“It’s never anything Mario and Luigi can’t handle,” Peach managed to say.

Pauline’s response was drowned out by an angry roar that shook the whole fortress. “Whoops!” Pauline barely managed to stay on her feet as the floor shifted beneath them, reaching out to stop Peach from falling to the ground, too. “Speaking of Mario...” She eyed the fight unfolding before them. “I’ll admit, I’m not too sure what to do next,” she said nervously. “This is all more your wheelhouse than mine. Got any ideas? Ah, if you’re feeling alright, of course.”

“I’m fine!” Peach regained her footing, the loss of Pauline’s supporting arm around her waist keenly felt as she stepped away. Well, the Mario and Luigi had defeating Bowser well in hand (not that Peach could do much as the flustered mess she was, and Pauline probably didn't have enough experience to help out either), so...“We — we need to go this way!”

“Lead on, Princess!”

---

Hours later, Peach and Pauline were discussing how to clean up the damage Bowser had done to the outskirts of the city. Pauline had tried to insist that Peach didn't need to help, but Peach insisted that she do something in exchange for the trouble brought to her doorstep and the assistance in driving it off. Pauline had acquiesced with a laugh, and Peach was almost too distracted by the sound to hear what Pauline said next.

“In that case,” she was saying, “could I borrow your heroes for a bit? With how much power that monster stole, I’d like to make sure the Power Plant is doing alright, and that there aren't any of his cronies still lingering down there, either.”

“Of course!” Peach nodded. “We’ll have to ask, but I’m sure they’ll be happy to help.” She looked around. “We just need to find them first...”

It hadn't been long after sending Bowser packing that the boys had wandered off, intent on seeing for themselves if there was anyone they could help in the wake of Bowser’s retreat and the fortress’ collapse. Asking around pointed them back towards the ruined fortress, and circling around the side of it they found them.

Sleeping, that is.

In the shadow of what was left of the fortress’ wall, Luigi snored away, back against the crumbled stone and his hat resting in his lap; Mario’s breath was even, cheek squished into his brother’s shoulder and his own hat askew on his head. It made for a frankly adorable image, and Peach couldn't quite help the noise that escaped her as she watched them sleep peacefully after all their hard work. Pauline seemed to think similarly, by the way she pulled out her phone and began taking pictures.

Though the flash was off and the camera shutter was quiet, Luigi’s face still scrunched up in his sleep as time passed. The grip on his hat tightened in what Peach was realizing was not a subconscious protest at being on film, but was most likely a result of a nightmare beginning to play out underneath his eyelids. Peach and Pauline shared a worried glance, but before they could step forward to maybe do something, Mario stirred. Eyes still closed, he rolled over, throwing an arm across his brother’s chest and burying his face in his neck. He settled there, and despite now having approximately half of his brother’s weight on top of him Luigi’s face instantly smoothed out, and he pressed his face into Mario’s hair,

The girls cooed, and the soft noise of it roused Mario a little bit more into wakefulness. Lifting his head, he blinked blearily at them.

“Sorry,” Peach whispered, as Pauline quickly hid her camera. “Everything’s fine; you can go back to sleep!”

Mario watched her for a moment more. Peach held her breath, afraid that he would decide to wake up fully. But Mario’s half-lidded eyes slipped closed, and he relaxed against his brother with a sigh. Thank goodness.

Next to her, Pauline was looking through the pictures she’d taken. She tilted her phone to show Peach when she noticed she had her attention. “Cute, aren't they? Almost hard to believe they were the ones to go toe-to-toe with that brute earlier!”

Peach hummed in agreement. She’d seen them do it many times, but it still amazed her even now. “I’m just glad they’re getting some rest. It’s been a long few days.”

“It’s been a long few days for you too, Princess.”

Peach shrugged. She’d just been sitting in a cell tied up the whole time, though. Mario and Luigi had been the ones to do all the fighting.

The look Pauline gave Peach was considering, and her eyes were very blue. “Tell you what,” she said. “It’s getting a bit late; let me take care of a few more things, and then I can take you to Punch Out!”

“Punch Out?”

“Pizzeria,” Pauline clarified. “It’ll be a good break. Doubt you've gotten many chances to eat pizza in the Mushroom Kingdom, eh?” She winked. Peach’s mouth went dry.

“Well — I — Mario’s made some for me a few times...?”

“Huh!” Pauline’s gaze drifted to the bros, still dead to the world. “They’re welcome to join us, of course,” she absently added. “I’m sure they’d appreciate the meal, as well.”

Right, of course. They deserved the break moreso than she. And they both loved to eat. So why in the world had she been hoping it would be just her and Pauline?

Unknowing of Peach’s train of thought, Pauline nodded. “Give me your number,” she said, and the train completely derailed. “I can text you when I’m free, and then you can wake the boys so we can meet there!”

The moment in which Peach stared dumbly at Pauline’s offered phone stretched out a bit too long. Pauline bemusedly waved said phone under Peach’s nose, and it was then Peach snapped out of her stupor. Willing a blush not to show on her face (and somehow mostly succeeding), Peach carefully entered her contact information and handed it back.

“Great!” Pauline grinned. “I can send you the pictures I just took, too! Um, are you sure you’re not tired?” she then asked, because while Peach was mostly successful in fighting down a blush, it was the effort to do so that was written all over her face, instead. “Maybe you should sit down.” Pauline steered Peach to one of the larger chunks of rubble nearby. Peach sat down on it heavily, and it was then, now that she wasn't standing anymore, did she realize just how exhausted she actually was.

From beyond them, someone called out for Mayor Pauline. “And that’s my cue,” Pauline said, somewhat exasperatedly. “Get some rest, Princess. And I’ll see you later!”

“See you later,” Peach echoed at her retreating back.

Pauline disappeared around the corner, and as soon as she did Peach dropped her rapidly-reddening face into her hands. Oh, what a disaster she’d been...!

Her phone buzzed. Peach stared at the text, from an unknown number. Mayor Pauline, here!, it read. There was a little microphone and some music notes after the end of the message. It was something that probably shouldn't have counted as cute, but nonetheless Peach’s heart did a somersault about it anyway.

...Should she text something back?

This is Princess Peach!, she wrote, and then deleted, and then rewrote, and then stared at, and then added a little peach to, and then sent, and then realized that Pauline already knew who was texting her because she’d put her number in her phone not even minutes before. She wondered if Professor Gadd still had that time machine available to use.

Perf! See you in an hour-ish!, was Pauline’s response. It was followed by what was probably the address of the pizzeria she’d mentioned, and a for later :).

Can't wait, Peach thought, and then realized she’d typed that thought, and then realized she’d sent that thought via text. She very deliberately locked her phone and put it back into her pocket. She put her head back into her hands. She screamed — on the inside, as to not wake her friends still fast asleep nearby, blissfully ignorant of her deafening embarrassment.

[thefanficmonster]

hi ! can you write jacob custos being jealous/angry when his girlfriend starts hanging out more & more with someone else, please

Aww my baby Jacob 🥺🥺🥺 Definitely sweetie! Hope you enjoy 💕

Childish Idiocy

Pairing: Jacob Custos x Reader (Female) [The Quarry]

Warnings: Jealousy, Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor

Summary: see request above

Jacob had been pestering Y/N all of May to join him in working at Hackett's Quarry. She'd originally had plans to work elsewhere and closer to the college she's been planning to go to but when those plans fell through, she'd overjoyed her boyfriend by asking him to put in a good word for her with the owners of the camping grounds and the resort in hopes of finding a spot among the summer staff.

Needless to say, Jacob wouldn't have taken no for an answer even if Chris Hackett's answer had been 'no'.

Although they had been hoping to take on the same responsibilities, their expectations weren't fulfilled. Instead, because of her culinary expertise, she'd found a spot in the kitchen alongside another guy who'd proven skilled in that field named Nick.

The two made fast friends, forming a strong - but still platonic - bond over their work and interests. In fact, she's been like an older sister to him, mentoring him through easier culinary strategies and crushes he can't confess.

Too bad Jacob fails to see that factor.

Rightfully so. If the other counselors hadn't known him and Y/N are dating, they'd definitely arise dating rumors of Nick and Y/N. All would be terribly wrong, but they wouldn't be entirely to blame - what meets the eye seems a lot more romantic than platonic. Poor Abi would agree too.

Jacob took it harder than her though. And showed it in a very out-of-character way that alerted Y/N to his change of mood right away.

The super friendly, happy, himbo teddy bear started being much colder towards you. Sitting next to Dylan instead of you, hanging out by the lake with Ryan afterhours instead of spending time with you, picking other people to supervise his group of kids along with him.

It's all strange and very off-putting. So she wasted no time asking him about it.

Or tried to not waste any time - she just couldn't catch him alone until the night he was walking back after cleaning up from the bonfire. Luckily, he was alone.

And luckily no one heard the scream he let out when his arm was grabbed and he got dragged amidst the trees near the counselors' cabins.

“Shhh! SH!“ Her hand clamps over his mouth. It’s a funny situation they’ve found themselves in. He’s quite a bit taller than her and yet he’s practically shitting his pants with fear.

That is, until he realizes it’s her, “Y/N?! What the hell?!” He removes her hand, allowing him freedom of speech once more but he once again forgets the tonal rule.

“Shhh! For fuck’s sake, shut the fuck up, Jacob!“ She’s forced to shush him, her tone brought up to a whisper yell.

“I shut the fuck up? You freaking kidnapped me?“ He hisses back but at least he does it quietly.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I just pulled you slightly, don’t be dramatic.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she gives him a particularly bitter glare, “If you avoided me for a couple more days I might’ve even gone the whole eleven yards. A van, rope and everything!”

Jacob’s features twist in confusion, the shadows of the moon’s light venturing between the tree branches dancing across his way in a way that makes his expression almost funny. But she can’t allow herself to find any humor in the situation currently.

“I’m not avoiding you...“ He defends himself but his words have no heft when he doesn’t believe them either. So, he switches to an even worse approach, “Ok, fine, so what if I am? It’s surprising you even noticed.“

Taken aback, she just now notices her hands were resting on his chest and one of his arms. Now she’s about five feet away, offended, “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

She can tell he immediately feels sorry for his choice of words but his not-so-rational side prevails, “I’m sure Nick would have been perfect substitute for me! Oh wait, he already is!!”

“Fucking hell, Jacob, seriously?“ You suddenly feel just as ridiculous, exasperated even. You can’t remember when this argument became one straight from middle school but you’ll be damned if you let it carry on.

“Yeah, seriously! You can’t tell me I’m wrong, Y/N!“ He’s quick to try and back up his claims but you’re quicker.

“Yes, you’re wrong.“ Just as he opens his big mouth to argue, you beat him to it once again, “Cause I fucking love you, dumbass.“

Let me just tell you, that shuts him up real quick.

“You love me?“

“Yes!“

It’s safe to say it’s all water under the bridge when his lips find their way to yours. And they stay there, only pulling away briefly to return you an “I love you too” before you two go on to break one of Chris Hackett’s main rules.

[inafieldofdaisies]

And "don’t leave" for Oliver and Oakley from the one word prompts, if you want as well?

"Oaks?", Oliver called out as soon as he pushed the heavy door to her hideaway open, his voice echoed down the dimly lit hallway and was met by silence. "You're not in a horror movie. Though, she might want to kill you for intruding.", he muttered under his breath while advancing forward, set on fulfilling his promise to her grandmother and checking up in Oakley no matter how annoyed she might get. "You again.", was the first thing to greet him as he entered her surveillance room, finding her lounging in front of the roll of monitors that displayed feeds from around Moore's large property. "Me again.", Oliver parrotted back, gaze zeroing on a photograph in her hands that held her attention more than the screens she would usually watch. Silence engulfed both of them before she twisted to look at him and sighed, "You can tell her I'm doing just fine and be on your way." "Are you truly fine, though?", with that, he moved towards her instead of retreating as instructed, something about the expression she wore pulled him in, and he couldn't shake the feeling leaving would be a huge mistake His hands grasped the back of her chair, and he took his first peek at the grainy picture over her shoulder. A young couple beamed at the camera, a little girl with pale blonde hair squished between them and wearing just as big of a smile.

"They seem happy.", he whispered past the lump in his throat, wishing he could see her face once more. Her thumb ran circles over the photograph, "Don't they?" "Nana was hoping you would come up. She made dinner." "I can't." "If it's because of me… I can go, Moore.", a part of him dreaded dragging himself back to the motel when a warm meal was set up for him above ground, but making that sacrifice seemed better than her sitting all alone. "Don't leave.", his eyebrows rose in surprise as she rushed to add, "Nana would think I chased you off." He nodded, "So if it's not me…" "It's the night, and me. I wish I could remember them.", her tone was stoic, but the way she gripped the picture had him rounding the chair and crouching down until her could grasp her hands, "Silly, I know. Won't do me any good. But it's like I'm looking at two strangers and I feel so much, yet nothing at all." "You were young. Too young. You shouldn't-" Her eyes lifted to his for a brief second, "I've stared at this picture so much over the years, I have their features memorized. Their voices, though… how we were as a family, I can't remember any of it, Oliver." "Nana has albums. She's taken them out, too.", he retorted quietly, hope taking flight in his chest at the fact she held his stare instead of focusing on the image again and zoning out. "So you can laugh at my baby pictures?", her lips quirked up slightly. "I doubt they'd be worse than mine, love.", a dramatic shudder passed over her at the petname, "My ma was super into costumes, still pulls out my baby albums any chance she gets." "Were you as annoying?", Oakley asked as he pried the picture out of her hold, and pulled her to her feet, not wasting any time in case she changes her mind with how stubborn of a person she was. "I'm told I was such a good baby, excuse me very much." Keep her distracted, McKenzie. She rolled her eyes but let him lead her out of the room, "Mhm. I totally believe that." "Truly. With the occasional hiccup here and there." "I knew it. And what were the costumes, do tell?" He squeezed her hand as he picked up his pace once they hit the stairway leading up and out of the stuffy bunker, "I will tell you all about them after dinner. I've been eyeing the pie Betty made the whole evening, Oaks. I'd probably dream of it." "Hungrier than a bear. It's why she loves you so much." The cool night air bit through his thin shirt, and he followed the lights from the house in the distance with newfound determination, still not believing he had managed to get that far, "I have a feeling she'd love me even more now." "Probably serve you half that pie." "From your mouth to God's ears."

[mystiika]

@cxldblxxded asked: [ FORMAL ]  ―  for sender to tie receiver’s wrists together with their tie ( k and adrian 🤔 ) meme: types of bondage

as nice as it was for the band to be recognised & to win awards, adrian despised award shows with a passion, or at the very least despises attending them in person. he comes home to find k on the couch watching tv, kicking his shoes from his feet too tired to bother putting them away properly ( which feels like a future!adrian problem ), hand trying & failing to free his neck from his tie but the knot was feeling impossible.

❝ help, ❞ comes a dismayed request ( with a pout to match ) when he drops to sit beside k. ❝ i don't care how handsome i look they stylist did NOT have to glue my tie in place so it won't slip. ❞ he's being dramatic, but he really was having trouble & needed k's help, walking himself over to meet k half way. ❝ thanks, ❞ voice a little quieter now that they're so close. ❝ i hate ties. ❞ he's carefully undoing his cufflinks, managing to free himself from his jacket around the same time k finishes pulling off his tie & heaves a sigh of relief — feeling so much less stuffy 2 layers fewer.

he starts to get up only to find himself falling backwards into k's lap. ❛ where do you think you're going, cascada? ❜ goosebumps cover his skin at the feeling of k speaking gently into his ear & k's hands lightly gripping his waist to hold him still. suddenly he feels a little less tired. ❝ mm, nowhere in particular. ❞ he hears a chirp in response & his head lulls to the side as he feels k's lips kissing along his neck & he lets out a pleased hum that k can no doubt feel as well as hear. ❝ now... why do i get the feeling you don't want me to leave? what do you say, my love? ❞ he gets no words in response, feels a purr vibrate against his back as adrian calls him ' my love ', a feeling he can't help much smile at.

but it would seem a purr wasn't enough of an answer the way k stands up with adrian still on him, turning to drop adrian on the bed & climbs on after him the second he could. of course, adrian has no complaints, happy with the weight of k pressing him into the bed ( & the slight grind of k's hips did not go unnoticed ). at some point he feels k take hold of his hands from where they'd fallen around his lover's neck, but was too enwrapped by the rest of his touch to really clue in until he felt a sudden pull of fabric tightening around his wrists held above his head on armrest. he doesn't need to see his hands to know what was happening. instead he looks to k, sporting a pleasantly surprised smile. ❝ oh so it's going to be that kind of night is it? ❞ adrian muses, leaning up far enough to catch k in a kiss, more than clear about his being into it. ❛ yes it is. ❜ the low growl is soon accompanied by a shiver where k's hand slides underneath adrian's still buttoned shirt.

with his hands tied above him, he really felt at k's mercy. but what a wonderful mercy it is, filled with pleasant touches & hungry kisses, his heart racing while his pants grew tighter. then, the second he feels k start unbuttoning his collar — ❝ just rip it open. i feel like it would be kinda HOT, don't you? ❞ adrian felt a flutter in his chest at the pleased look on k's face at the suggestion. & the sight of k moving to follow through on his request, he unknowingly takes a breath in anticipation. then a sudden grin, wide with lust, at the sound of tearing thread & satisfying clatter of plastic whereever the buttons flew. ❝ fuck... ❞ & kisses k with renewed vigor, legs naturally hooking around k to force him closer ( after all his hands were otherwise occupied ).

❝ i just have one question, baby, ❞ he breathes, a little distracted at the feeling of lips & teeth leaving marks where they please. ❝ can i top tonight? ❞ a request he knew would be instantly approved but one to ask all the same. ❝ because.... ❞ he drags it out, making sure to catch k's attention & look him in the eye, a bit of a smirk on his lips as he continues, ❝ i was just thinking about how sexy you'd look fucking yourself on my cock while i'm all tied up like this... ❞ if he had more to add, it was forgotten the moment k kissed him again ( though he couldn't help but notice the slight purr k seemed to make after adrian described his little fantasy ).

they part for a moment while k tosses his shirt to the side & on his return they instantly readjust to k straddling adrian this time. & there was no helping the way his hips grind up against the weight of k on him. making no effort to muffle the noise that resulted, he's happy to kiss k the second he comes near enough again. ❝ besides, it's been too long since i topped... ❞ he stops to look k in the eye again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, soon giving way to an expression entirely consumed by desire — a fact easily supported by the noticeable hard on pressed against k. ❝ i can't have you forgetting how good it feels when i'm fucking you, now can i... ❞

[textingaboutprometheus]

I also don't think LA vs NY was the problem, because I don't think R actually wanted Jon to move to NY. Ronan wanted to live in New York some of the time, not for them both to live there, because of the… let's call it 'freedoms' that he had when they were apart. Lovett moving full time to NY to be with him would have presented a problem in the same exact way that both of them living in LA did. It was the full-timeness of it all, not the city.

I do believe he THOUGHT he wanted (or at least was able to) settle down and be with one person in a marriage based in the same city, which Lovett clearly wanted and had been a source of tension between them for a while. I already believed based on all the other stuff we have been talking about that the LDR was an issue and Lovett wanted a change, but I went and watched that part of the endless honeymoon podcast that anon referenced a few days ago, and if I didn't believe it before I would now. Anon is right, it's crystal clear from that Lovett was fully over the LDR, I don't even know how we all weren't talking about it at the time it aired.

But I think Ronan agreed to settling down in LA with all intentions of following through, I really think he believed that this was something he could give to Lovett, or he wouldn't have proposed in the first place. But I think he was dragging his feet after that, not necessarily on the wedding but on changing the relationship, and L didn't want to get married without that piece of it. And then it all got real with the house, he started feeling boxed in in a way that was unsustainable. I'm just glad he was honest about it and didn't try to go through with something that would have been a disaster and exploded in their faces, maybe with kids involved.

I think ultimately, they were both admirably honest with themselves and each other about what they needed from the relationship and it became clear that those things were mutually exclusive. At that point, no amount of compromise could have saved it.

I remember when it first happened and a lot of people were asking why they would let a ten year relationship go just like that without trying to save it, but now I think they probably tried to save it for a bit too long. It's clear the distance (and everything that goes with it) has been an issue for a while, but I think they both believed the disagreement was about WHEN to settle down, not if they (he) even could, and that kept them hanging on. But it was always an if and the answer, it turns out, was no. I definitely don't think they will get back together, and I don't even want them to anymore. They aren't compatible and should both find people to be happy with in the kinds of relationships they want to be in.

Aaah, sorry this is so long. I think I've been noodling on this for a year now and it's good to get it off my chest, thank you for providing this space!

I can appreciate good old fashioned honesty. But I still think letting it go on for as long as it did was damaging. If they realized this sooner they'd probably have been happier.

I'm glad L is in therapy. What gets me though is R's behavior post break up. He seems petty about it. But everything you said here makes so much sense, except his attitude.

It's like he fully expected them to continue on as they were. Happy as clams. Its like he heard Ls rejection of this and did it anyway. Idk. I just hope he's happy with the outcome. I mean he gets to be hot and single now.

[nefkyo]

It's 2 in the morning and I'm thinking. <- That means I'm about to write about them

(what, you thought I could only write about ONE couple of "friend-rivals" where one is British, one is American and one has wings and one doesn't AND THEY PLAY MINECRAFT? You thought wrong.)

It all happened so fast. Scar was getting back from a very successful fishing trip - for Jellie's lunch, at least: he didn't find a single book! - and ran into Grian, who looked in a real hurry. He asked him what was going on and instead was rushed to hide into the bushes nearby.

"Don't move." Grian shushes him, trying to squint behind the foliage. He can't even shift in place without crunching the sticks and leaves beneath his feet, so Scar just tries his best to as stay as still as possible while his stomach can feel Grian's heart racing. He hears the same thing he does: Bdubs LOUDY leading a mob of Hermitcrafters - despite clearly not knowing where he's headed - in his search. "GET ME THAT CHICKEN!" he shouts, to which nobody in the party directly responds, but they all seem to agree on wanting to get their hands on him. Scar waits patiently until the last person has gone by, while also admiring the way the light shines through the leaves and frames the features of his... Kidnapper? He'd probably say that if he didn't have his hand on his mouth.

They stand by for an extra 10 seconds before Grian lets Scar's face go with a sigh. "Well, this is going to be a pain to solve." Grian says, scratching at his head as he looks out. "What'd you do this time?" Scar asks with a sly smile. "Nothing!" He scoffs in response "I set up some traps around my base and they triggered them. No big deal."

Scar recognizes the way he folds his arms as a half-lie more than a half-truth. "'No big deal'?" he pries, squeezing at his sides to make him look up. "It uhm, it-it backfired. Just a little bit." Grian spills, pinching his index and his thumb together. "Grian, I just saw an entire search party armed and ready to roast you on a spit!" Scar points out with more curiosity than actual alarm, shaking Grian gently in the process. "Well, ok-- I had to test if they worked, so I started advertising a fake shop in my front yard." "Uh-huh..." "I was hoping it would make a few people come over, instead a lot of people did... And the traps worked so well Iskall lost all his stuff in a hole... Then Etho.... Then Bdubs..." "Grian!" Scar exclaims "You blew all their stuff up??" "I predicted one or two people would've gone flying, but I thought they'd have sturdier armor!" "I don't know if I'm more upset from you not stealing all their stuff and trying to resell it or by the fact I absolutely would've done that in your place." "Scar!" "What??"

They burst out laughing at that, Grian covering his own mouth and nudging Scar to do the same. "Scar, I'm in so much trouble, shut up!" he tries to add in between the giggles. "You are evil, just a villain I tell you!" Scar shakes his head in faux disappointment, when really he's thinking of how he missed the whole thing to go fishing.

The back and forth soon starts as they keep standing there, sort-of-hugging-but-not-really in the bushes. "Well, now you're an accomplice!" Grian says sort of proudly, to which Scar snaps "Oh no, I am NOT your accomplice, I have my Jellie to go back home to! Also, as far as I know you are kidnapping me. I am just another victim." "I just moved you out of the path of the mob!" "I was out walking, minding my own business, and then you dragged me into the bushes with you! This is a kidnapping!" "Scar, you are literally holding me! I can't kidnap you if you're the buffer one!" "Y'know what, I don't care anyway, I don't want anything to do with you and this mess!"

"Fine, I'll be off then." Grian sighs with a smile. Scar looks back at him in time to have a soft pair of lips meet his quickly, then flutter away. "I'll be seeing you when I've got this all under control, yeah?" The shorter one mutters after he untangles from his arms. Scar is too stunned to do anything more than just nod and watch him run out of the bushes and take off into the opposite direction. He wishes he could stay. They both do. "GOOD LUCK!" he manages to put together, receiving just a wave as a response.

(there's just inches in between us i want you to give in, i want you to give in)

[witchysethharper]

Second Time's the Charm | Self-Para

Seth vs. Lilith showdown take two.

Trigger Warnings: blood, self harm, decapitation, and death.

Continued from here

Seth gave one last apologetic look towards the unconscious witch sleeping in his bed before he shut the door and sealed Rhys within amidst protection and negating charms. Those precautions ought to keep Lilith from finding his mentor and fucking about with his dreams while he slept and also keeping Rhys and his divination abilities contained in that room while Seth did his thing.

He tossed away the last of the sleeping potion used to drug the older man and then downed the power augmentation potion for himself. The effects would be temporary but effective in giving Seth that edge he needed against a 3,000 year old succubus. With the potion in his system he could tap into magic far beyond his current capabilities for his age, magic that he'd been studying as a refresher and had experience with from Lilith sealed away within him. The rush of energy and power flowed through him within seconds of consumption, his magic lighting up bright scarlet in his eyes and in the veins underneath his skin. That connection to his powers intensified and energized the young witch whose hands shook from the adjustment of his mana and how to contain it properly.

Deep breaths. In and out, he reminded himself. Seth closed his eyes, inhaled, held, and exhaled over and over again until he didn't feel on the precipice of exploding. He could visualize every single thread of his magic within himself duplicated into hundreds and thousands of glowing tendrils, each of them screaming like they'd just been overdosed with straight caffeine and couldn't stop vibrating. He harnessed only a sliver of that power to finalize the scene, embedding distinct sigils with his energy magic on all four walls of the living room. They glowed his signature red before vanishing like they weren't there along with the crucifixes also hidden under the illusion spell he cast. Those hidden symbols would ensure that only Seth would be capable of wielding any power here. Course he'd convince Lilith otherwise for a bit just for the show.

This was going to work. It had to. Otherwise both he and Shade would wind up in hell in their rightfully reserved seats together. Realistically that didn't seem as much fun compared to joking about it.

It started off just like last time as Seth planted himself in front of the summoning circle. A quick draw of a knife across his palm drew a small wince and well of blood. He squeezed drops of it into the circle as he murmured the incantation and the circle responded to his call, the intricate lines glowing red with his power searching for Lilith. The circle glowed brighter and brighter until a loud bang! exploded from the center and covered it with smoke. Seth stopped his chanting and a pulse of red energy flashed over him. He checked his watch for the time knowing that he only had about half an hour before that potion wore off and the nasty after-effects knocked him on his ass.

Lilith appeared amidst the clearing gray clouds dressed in black that showed off her tight figure. Her icy gaze settled on the young witch and her ruby red lips curved into a smile that didn't meet her eyes. "Seth," she spoke coolly, somewhat amused that this child had the gall to try this shit again after failing last time. After the warning she gave him. Lilith wasn't the type to give second chances. "Are we really doing this again?" Her eyes fell to the floor, immediately noticing the smudged line in the seal meant to contain her when Seth dragged his foot back likely in an attempt for some distance. She cocked her head, the smirk still painted on her gorgeous features and a wicked glint shone in her eyes.

Then she lunged for Seth with all the grace of a feline and speed of a bullet. Her fist connected with his abdomen before he even saw it coming and the young witch flew back off his feet and into the nearest pile of furniture with a yelp. Not even a second to recover and she was at him again, grabbing him and tossing him farther than any ordinary 5'5" woman could toss a 6'2" man. The fact that she was accomplishing this in high heels was also rather impressive.

So far Seth's plan appeared to be working.

Lilith didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary as she beat the shit out of Seth for a good few minutes and why would she? In Seth's little world that he created within his suite, he let Lilith feel like her strength was still there, that her blows were connecting with an actual human body, see and hear each crash into an obstacle from the illusionary duplicate of himself that occasionally tossed off a projectile energy bolt or elemental attack that missed more than they hit their target. He allowed Lilith to believe that she was winning here because in reality she would. Unfortunately for the demon, Seth hijacked reality with his illusions.

Enchantment had always been the second school after evocation that came most naturally to him, particularly illusion casting. Those spells aided his deception when it came to surviving and avoiding trouble. A little invisibility, decoy clones, projecting visuals and sounds to mislead, covering up traps all very handy skills. Maybe it was the faerie lineage in his blood or just personality that evoked that particular talent. Working at Krovs only helped advance his knowledge in that area and Lilith's possession of him further augmented his powers allowing him to full on manipulate and bend reality much like an incubus with dream magic. It'd been a minute but he still remembered how to wield that heavy illusion shit with the potion in his system.

"Didn't I tell you," the succubus started as she lifted the very beaten and bruised not-real Seth off the floor with her hand wrapped tight around his throat. "That if you tried this again I would kill your darling little cambion?" Fake Seth did just what Seth would do in that situation –– apologized and started begging, which only made Lilith laugh. "It's too late for that. You can't be trusted, Sethy, and now you're going to pay the price. You want to die so badly I'll take your soul right fucking now. You and Shade can reunite in hell together when I'm done. Or maybe not. Eternity separated might be an appropriate punishment for you." She dove in for a kiss and once her lips touched Seth's, she felt it.

Or rather, she didn't feel anything.

There was no draw of his life force, no sensation of feeding. No connection to her power. She turned as the real Seth revealed himself hidden by magic and unharmed, the witch's lips curving into a crooked and manic grin.

"I win, bitch."

The layers of illusions faded away in flashes of red, revealing the crosses and all the protections cast upon the suite. Blood dripped from his nose from the amount of concentration and mental power behind it. Dropping it, he channeled it all into one, massive physical attack to end this shit. He swiped his hand through the air, eyes and palm both glowing as he unleashed a wave of red energy. It whistled through the air and cut cleanly through Lilith's neck before she could dodge it –– not that there was any room for her to –– and cracked through shelves and wall behind her with a spray of blood. The demon's head slid off before her legs gave way, both pieces of her hitting the floor with a thud.

The sharp ache in Seth's right temple full on started pounding as the potion began wearing off. Damn thing didn't protect against the effects of overexertion, which he'd absolutely just done and more. The flow of blood from his nose increased from drips into waterfall gushing over his mouth and down his chin. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. His vision blurred and he staggered, barely catching himself with one hand against the wall before he fell against it and slowly sank down to the floor. The world around him faded to darkness as he kept mumbling I won to himself over and over again until unconsciousness took hold.

[fablewritesnonsense]

Lost In The Commonwealth

Chapter One: All Was Gone

Their husband was murdered in front of their eyes. Their son had been ripped from his arms. Thanks to some freak malfunction everyone had died.

Except Bentley.  

And somehow in that first day's worth of adrenaline they'd run through concord with a dog looking for people to help, killed so many men whose death rattles still echoed in their mind's ear, and had taken down some freakish iguana. 

Now they sat in the corner of Sean's dilapidated old room, arms wrapped around knees pulled to their chest, as the dog tried to comfort them. 

But it was all so much, too much. 

"There's a good boy, Dogmeat," Garvey said gently, walking into the room. "Ms. Price, are you alright?" 

"I need time, Garvey," Bentley muttered, looking up as he knelt down before them. "This is all just… so much." 

"I'm afraid this is the way of the world now Ms. Price," He replied. 

"Just call me Bentley," they muttered. "Easier on everyone." Garvey nodded, seeming to struggle with a question for a moment. 

"Feel free to tell me if I'm overstepping, but was Price your husband's last name or…" 

"It was," they muttered. "But, my parents are dead too so not much use going by Thomas now either. No matter what I do it's old memories dragged up." He nodded and sighed. 

"I can't help you with your grief. I don't know that anyone here has lost their spouse. The Longs lost their boy, but Marcy's a bit touchy about the subject," He said, placing a tentative hand on the arm around their leg. "But if you need to vent or a shoulder to cry on, I'm right here." Bentley nodded and sighed. 

"I appreciate it, but I'm not ready to talk about it just yet," they said softly. He nodded. 

"Well, best I can do then is keep you distracted. I'm trying to rebuild the Minutemen and Sturges wants to get this place up and running," he grunted, getting to his feet. "Just come get one of us when you're ready." 

Bentley watched him walk out of the room, head leaned back against the wall. Dogmeat adjusted his head to his head to look them in the eyes and huffed a sigh. 

"Yeah yeah," they sighed. "Let's go find Sturges." Dogmeat hopped up, tail wagging and circled Bentley as they walked out into Sanctuary. 

***

Two weeks they spent trying to get Sanctuary in proper shape for the new occupants, largely on their own. Sturges was trying to patch up the houses, the Longs we're busy with the crops, Garvey with the Minutemen, and Mama Murphy… well it was probably best she didn't try to help. 

But Bentley figured out a way to get water going with some pointers from Sturges, sewed up enough beds for everyone, and improvised a defense point for Garvey. It wouldn't have taken so long if they hadn't had to drop everything to fend off raiders and Super Mutants. 

Those things had given them nightmares the following night. 

"You think those are bad, you should see the ferals," Marcy quipped once Garvey had calmed Bentley down from their panic attack. 

"The fuck are ferals?" They asked shakily, looking to Garvey. He shot Marcy a dirty look. 

"Feral Ghouls, it's hard to explain. If you head to Diamond City you see some eventually," he said. 

"The radiation melted their brains so now they're shambling corpses," Marcy said. 

"Don't you have Tatos to take care of?" Garvey asked firmly. 

This made Bentley stave off their trip to Diamond City for another couple weeks. Instead choosing to help Garvey in getting the Minutemen up and running. 

***

Bentley managed to slip away from the collection of new Minutemen that were having a bonfire with Sturges and the Longs, clutching at a bottle of wine that they’d looted from the last raider’s den they’d been asked to storm. Dogmeat followed them, ears down and whining as they hid in the closet of Sean’s room. They slid down the wall and to the floor with a sigh, and Dogmeat laid his head on their lap. He watched them shakily try to open the wine.

“Let me help you with that, General,” Garvey said, appearing out of nowhere to pluck the bottle out of their hands. 

“Please stop calling me that,” Bentley said with a shaky laugh, taking the newly opened bottle from him and taking a swig. 

“Nah, calling you by your name feels too intimate for now,” he said, using one foot to pull up a chair. “Why are you hiding? We’re celebrating you, you know?” 

“I’ve killed so many people,” they muttered, their hand tightening on the neck of the bottle. “I know they weren’t good people, but…” 

“It gets easier,” he said. “It’s a matter of life or death here. Just take your time.” 

“That doesn’t help,” Bentley said with a dark laugh. He smiled and shrugged. 

“May I, perhaps, make a suggestion?” He asked. 

“I’m all for suggestions,” Bentley said, taking a sip of wine. 

“When we met, you said you were looking for your son,” he said, glancing at the crib in the corner. Bentley heaved a sigh, but nodded. “Perhaps the distractions here aren’t enough anymore, and you need to go find him. I think some closure might do you good.” Bentley stared out the window behind him for a moment, thinking it over. 

“That’s not a bad thought. Perhaps in the morning,” they said softly. He nodded and stood. 

“Would you like for me to come with you?” He asked, sounding very near hopeful. 

“No, you stay here where you’re needed,” They said, taking a sip of wine. “Let’s be real Garvey, you run this militia more than I do. Call me a General all you want- and please don’t- but you’re the one that keeps them going on a fundamental level. Stay here with them.” Garvey heaved a sigh, but he nodded and left. 

Bentley stroked Dogmeat’s fur, sipping on their wine as they listened to the party continue on outside.

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Have a wonderful day!

[spareseratoninplz]

Obey Me! Dog lover GN!MC Meeting Cerberus for the first time

'Grrrrrrarggghh...'

There was a sudden heat running down our backs as though someone were breathing just behind us.

"Beel... that was your stomach, right...?" Mammon asked, and Beel shook his head.

"Does anyone else smell... *wet dog*?" Satan asked, and slowly we turned to see the biggest three headed, angry looking dog that I had seen in my entire life.

"RUN!!!" Beel shouted, and they took off running. I continued to stand there, mouth agape and eyes wide at the creature before me.

"(Y/N)!!" Beel shouted back towards me.

"Oh no! They'refrozen in fear! (Y/N), RUUUNN!!" Mammon shouted.

A smile spread across my face as my eyes lit up and my heart began to pound.

"PUPPY!!" I squealed, throwing my arms out wide.

Even the dog looked confused for a moment before baring its teeth at me and growling deeply whilst lying his ears back. .

"CERBERUS, SIT." Lucifer commanded, and the dog whined before obeying promptly.

"*This* is Cerberus?! ***THE** CERBERUS?!" I giggled with delight before gently stroking the middle head's muzzle.

The dog hesitated before leaning into it. I then started scratching its chest before he gave in and rolled onto his back so I could scratch his belly.

"Such a good boy! Yes you are!!" I giggled whilst furiously scratching at his belly with both hands, causing him to begin kicking at the air wildly as his tongues drag the floor.

"Is this actually happening...?" Beel asked aloud. All for demons stood watching in awe as a mere human seemed to tame Cerberus within minutes.

I laughed as he jumped up and happily licked my face whilst wagging his tail which stirred up a bit of a wind.

"How is this possible...? Cerberus only ever listens to..." Satan trailed off as their heads all turned in one direction- towards Lucifer. Unfortunately, he was just as much at a loss for words as they were.

"As confusing as this is... oddly, it's even more endearing." Lucifer said, a ghost of a smile finding its way onto his face briefly before he regarded his three other brothers sharply.

"What are the four of you doing down here in the first place?" He demanded.

Mammon was the first to throw his hands up in defense, most likely a trigger reflex at this point.

"Hey, relax would ya?! We're not up to any shenanigans! We were all just hangin' out when Beel suggested we all go to Hell's Kitchen for some lunch. We walked through the front door, but it led us here!" Mammon explained.

"Is that true Satan, Beel?" Lucifer asked to which they both nodded in response.

"Yes, apparently Levi's escape room video game was activated once again." Satan mused.

"Who's a good boy?! Who's a good cerbie werbie!!" I laughed, making kissy sounds as he nuzzled against me, nearly knocking me onto my back.

"... 'Cerbie... werbie'...?" Lucifer mumbled, shaking his head in dismay.

"The great monstrous watchdog of the underworld being reduced to a mere lapdog at the hands of (Y/N)... it's... unthinkable." Satan added, although he wouldn't admit how impressed he was.

"Yo, (Y/N)! We're still going to lunch, right?!" Mammon called out to me.

"Huh? Oh, right!" I smiled brightly before turning towards them and walking in their direction.

"Lucifer, would you like to join us-" I started to ask before I was nudged roughly in the back by a massive nose and briefly lifted off my feet.

All three of Cerberus's heads were lowered at my level with big pleading puppy dog eyes.

"Awh, I'll be back to play later. Promise!" I hugged the snout that nudged me before waving and walking towards the others.

"Alright, let's go!" I chuckled and the four brothers continued to stare as if they couldn't believe star they'd just witnessed.

"(Y/N)... how'd you manage to tame Cerberus?" Beel asked, and I hummed in question.

"I dunno. I've always just had a way with dogs I guess... plus, Cerberus isn't inherently evil. He's just super dedicated to his work!" I said.

"You're not totally wrong there. Cerberus's duty is to keep any threat from entering or leaving the catacombs.

(Y/N)'s soul must be so pure that he could sense that they weren't a threat." Lucifer deduced.

"Let's try going back through the door we came in! We'll find out easy out of here in no time! I'm starving." I smiled, waking back towards the entrance.

"Maybe we'll manage to find the front door leading outside before Beel loses control and eats us." Satan sighed.

"We'd better hurry then." Beel frowned whilst holding his stomach.

[cassiewestwood]

A hint of dejection settled on Cassandra's shoulders as she'd attempted to distract herself with her phone in hand. It'd been surprising to run into Terry, she'd hadn't expected their all too brief reunion to transpire the way it had, and it'd left her feeling off. Even as her finger scrolled the options on display it'd been a challenge to thoroughly focus on the choices. Not when someone that had once felt so close to her was shopping around not too far away, and that someone could step back into the sunshine and see her hunched at a barrier wall.

"Yeah," Cassandra startled slightly, "I'm looking for somewhere to go eat." The search had intensified with the impending doom of Terry finding her out there still alone and looking pathetic, like a dog that had been left behind while an owner went for a ride in the truck. She'd not heard the other approach as she nearly forced herself to pick something, anything, and get away before the potential of their soured reunion could worsen. There'd been some mind to the fact that Terry could even dismiss her altogether and jet off in an opposite direction once their meds were in hand and they were free of the fluorescents.

When she looked up and her eyes met with Terry's she was so unsure what she saw in them. Not much was given away in their expression and it was unsettling for the first time, ever. On the precipice of losing family all over again, there was that dread that moved through Cassandra upon realization that she'd lost Terry long ago. In the years of their silence she hadn't assumed there was anything bad or ill between them, just that they'd drifted apart as their lives went different directions. Cassandra had always supposed that was normal, yet had felt so confident in the strength of their connection that she'd assumed that she and Terry would pick up where they'd left off if they ever came together again.

"A fair trade that you'll answer questions I have?" What was the trade off? That Terry would just walk away as though there was never a thing between them? Hadn't that already happened? The brokenness she'd felt in her chest only seemed to spread, and Cassandra knew that her mind was working overtime and making thoughts that shouldn't be given consideration some life. "There's, umm, this pizza place down the way it looks like," she then offered after she'd glanced down at her phone then back up to meet Terry's eyes. "If you have somewhere to be or things to do, you know, you don't have to," Cassandra offered, a shrug added to appear a bit careless and as though her heart wouldn't beat right through her chest.

They'd raised a child together for nearly a decade, were so heavily involved in each other's lives, and she'd thought they really had leaned on each other. "I'm not going to be in town too long, I don't think." Or, at least, she hoped. Cassandra had no clue how long paternity tests took and that clock would only begin ticking once she'd talked to Saul. With an assumption of how that was going to go she'd been dragging her feet, already in town for two weeks now.

Terry disappeared into the pharmacy like a bird in flight. It was an establishment that almost projected artifice—from the fluorescent lights overhead, the sterile white walls, the cool air, to the cloying scents of antiseptic and cough syrups—and a contrast to the sweltering summer outside. Yet even as they walked towards the counter, Cassie’s chuckle, dry and impassionate, and their own uncouthness clung to them as second skin. She’d tentatively veered the discussion towards her motivations for being in town, only for Terry to dismiss it, thoroughly and without regard.

Far better reasons? Not in a hurry? Their initial assumptions may have been incorrect, but her words revealed that there was some accuracy in it. Cassie might’ve been here for Saul, then—always for Saul—but in the absence of any real attempt at conversation, the exact nature of her motivations was rendered opaque. 

The queue had been short, but the seconds stretched mercilessly on, and it was not until the pharmacist urged the queue to move that their legs remembered to move forward. Handing over their prescription note, the pharmacist left to retrieve the medication, prescribed to curb both psychological and physiological symptoms, against the highs and lows of their emotions and the weakening functions associated with their body’s biological wear and tear.

As the pharmacist returned, they’d placed the brown bag of lifelines inside their tote. It was silly, in retrospect, to invite Cassie inside. They wouldn’t have wanted her to bear witness to the weaknesses wreaking havoc at their body, in its steady march towards mortality, when Cassie herself appeared to age no more than a day. Cassie had always carried that air of vitality to her, Terry found. Taller, younger, more beautiful, with a generous and easy manner to match. Her presence, then and now, summoned a very particular ache against their chest. Against their heart, maybe, if you could call the thousand shards in between their ribs as a heart, still.

They exited the pharmacy only to find Cassie still standing there, leaning against a wall, engrossed in her phone. Part of them hoped that she’d already walk away, and yet—“You’re still here.” Terry noted, as if it were the strangest thing in the world, as if, in reorienting themselves inside the establishment, the illusion could have been broken. It had not. 

The instinct towards flight came back, but Terry gripped their tote bag, swallowed, and punctured the air with a slow exhale. “I’m sorry about that.” Was an apology an apology without a referent object? They couldn’t say. “I’d like to walk with you,” they made sure to keep their tone measured, and held the other’s gaze, firm in their resolve. “I’ll answer any questions you may have, and I’ll answer yours.” And here, an attempt to rectify the gap between the past and present, however overdue. “Is that a fair trade?”

[cannebady]

Imagine it's post reunion and everyone is trying to find a new normal.

Ed and Stede are in the early stages of EdandStede and are taking things slowly because there are still tender hurts and they want to do this right.

Izzy, surprisingly, chose to stay, which Ed feels complicated about and Stede is oddly pleased by. Apologies were made, and the whole crew agreed that a big, overarching apology was sufficient. The rest is just time and perspective.

Strangely enough, Izzy seemed to jump at the opportunity for a redo, if not as much with the crew as with Ed and, shockingly, Stede. Something must have shaken loose between Stede's surely ham fisted reclaiming of his ship and now, because Izzy's outbursts are kept to a minimum, occasionally he asks Stede questions and calls him Captain, and he doesn't roll his eyes at single, solitary one of Ed's flights of fancy, regardless of how laden in silk and lace.

Suffice it to say, that there's a fledgling peace on The Revenge that everyone is learning to relax into.

That being said, they're still captained by Stede Bonnet, so if they thought an Employee Appreciation Party was unlikely for an honest-to-God pirate ship that's really on them.

The good news is that Stede lives for pageantry and Ed lives for a good fucking time, so together they've packed the deck with an unbelievable spread, courtesy of Roach, and more booze than is advisable for any number of people to partake in.

There are lights strung up, the flutter of the candles twinkling like their own captive stars and bathing the deck in a gorgeous juxtaposition of cool moonlight and their own warm galaxy. It's intimate, but that feels right.

Frenchie's got a tune going, accompanied by Oluwande and Wee John, and as the bottles get emptier the makeshift dance floor gets busier and Stede's heart is filling in a way he feared it wouldn't again.

He's also a bit tipsy himself, though he thinks he's hiding it well, and he's always rather loved to dance so he's struggling to contain his excitement to foot tapping and swaying in place. Ed, always watching and frightfully good at figuring Stede out, catches the movements and, as if in slow motion, stalks over to Stede with mischief in his lovely eyes.

Before he knows it, Ed's dragged him out onto the dance floor.

Now, let it be said that Stede has spent months watching Ed in every way imaginable and being bowled over by how everything someone does could be so attractive. However, if he had seen Ed's dancing when they'd first met, he may have sung a different tune. Yes, he's gorgeous, he always is, of course he is, have you seen him? But, the man appears to have both a complete lack of rhythm induced by two left feet, chorea, or several dozen biting ants in his trousers. His movements defy the laws of both dancing and physics.

Stede starts laughing, he can't stop laughing because it's Ed and fuck he looks ridiculous, and while he's almost doubled over, he hears an echoing snicker that makes him turn his head.

Ed's flushed and clearly couldn't be fucked about his atrocious moves based on the smile on his face, but the laugh is rough and low and drew his attention as well. It could only belong to one other.

When Stede looks behind Ed, Izzy is biting his own lip to stifle his laugh and looks both embarrassed at being caught laughing at his captain and like he can barely stop himself from laughing harder.

Ed looks at Izzy.

Izzy looks at Stede.

Stede looks between the two of them.

The rest of the crew stares on bated breath.

Then, a snort from Ed has them all giggling. Isreal Hands and Blackbeard himself, giggling of all things alongside the Gentleman Pirate and their rag-tag crew.

It's like the last thread of old is obliterated and Stede feels light as air.

His grin catches Izzy's, then Ed's, and then Frenchie takes the opportunity to slow things down. The tune is melancholy and lovely, and Stede holds out his hand to Ed who accepts with a lovely shy look that does stuff to Stede's insides. The lights reflect off of his whiskey eyes and Stede, not for the first time, is drowning in them.

Ed feels so good in his arms that he can't possibly care about the man's lack of prowess here. He's so warm, and soft, and he smells like shit liquor and salt air and Stede is affected.

As before, Ed's rhythm is nonexistent and he's clearly never done this before. The rum isn't helping and they spend more time clinging to each other, with Ed apologizing constantly for the damage he's doing to Stede's toes, and laughing than they do actual dancing.

They hear someone clear their throat and both turn to see Izzy standing next to them. The sheepish look is foreign on his face but charming in a way that makes Stede's chest warm.

"Edward, let me fucking teach you before Bonnet ends up like me," he rasps out, nodding towards his foot that's down a phalanx. It's so deadpan that Ed doesn't seem to know what to do before he breaks out in a grin.

"Gonna teach me to dance like a gentleman, Iz?" Ed says, rakish grin in place.

Izzy rolls his eyes, "If I can get you not to look like a twat it'll be a miracle." he says but it's good natured.

Izzy grabs Ed's hand, then brings his other around his waist showing Ed how to lead. Seeing them together does Things to Stede. He'd have expected jealousy, but he just feels happy. He feels like there's warm light in his heart trying its damndest to break out and shower itself over them. They just look so good together. Both hard and soft in different places, both intense and lovely and oh dear, Stede really has been slow on the uptake. A jolt of heat and panic runs through him.

Izzy and Ed are laughing and, despite Izzy looking extremely competent, Ed is getting no better, which is sending him into hysterics laughing at himself. Even Izzy is grinning, though with a touch more exasperation.

When Frenchie starts another slow number, Izzy shakes his head and gestures for them to head off to the side. Stede is considering making himself scarce to process his feelings and give them some privacy, when Izzy grabs his wrist much more gently than he'd think him capable of.

"Come on, Bonnet. Let's show him how it's done." and just like that he's in Izzy's arms, leading somehow, through something like a waltz. It isn't one, and it's nothing Stede would've seen in the galas of his youth, but Izzy is very competent and certainly knows his way around a dance floor (and dance partner, good lord).

He spins Stede, somehow leading while following, and Stede is laughing and Izzy's laughing too, making Stede damn near forget about Ed which is shocking considering that Stede even thinks of him while sleeping.

He looks over and Ed's eyes are dark, fathomless, hot. He's tracing their movements, specifically their hands, but it isn't rage or jealousy. This isn't the evaluation of The Kraken. No, this looks a bit more come hither.

Izzy slows to meet Stede where he is, a few strands of hair flopping over his forehead and fuck, Stede wants to tuck them behind his ear. Wants to drag his thumb over his Polaris tattoo and maybe also his lips.

They look from each other to Ed and back, and by some unspoken agreement they follow Ed away from the deck and towards the captain's quarters.

They meet in the hallway outside, and Izzy looks at Stede. "Do you want-" he starts and before he's done Stede's already saying "God, yes".

Izzy looks to Ed and raises an eyebrow. Stede looks at Ed too, letting the question be plain on his face. He feels alive, bold. He reaches out and grabs Izzy's hand, is met with warm calloused and a sharp intake of breath and Ed's dilated eyes.

"Fuck, yes," Ed says before dragging Stede against him, slotting their mouths together and releasing a moan that sounds like it's been trapped for ages.

He releases Stede and gives Izzy the same treatment. Stede is transfixed watching them, the hot press of their mouths, a slick tongue. Stede's still holding Izzy's hand where it's gripped to his.

Ed and Izzy part, both looking overjoyed and relieved.

"I'll just," Stede starts, moving to open the door, but is caught by Izzy who frames his face, looks into his eyes and, with gentleness he couldn't have imagined, brings Stede in for a sweet kiss that turns filthy in seconds.

Ed, shameless as he is, moans openly at them, one hand on each man's waist like he can't possibly stand to be parted from them.

"Inside, fuck, lets go," Ed groans and he grabs them both to huddle them further towards the door, even as their lips break apart prematurely from the rough herding and both look a little dazed from it.

Stede recovers enough to link his free hand with Ed's (Izzy still hasn't let go and neither has he) and pushes the door open.

There's a whole new world waiting for them inside.

[husbandohunter]

A Small Predicament [Baby Genshin x Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Cursed for a week, the boys either have to live with it or find a cure as soon as possible. You on the otherhand hoped otherwise.

(A/n): It only takes ONE glance for me to start having ideas. It was twelve in the morning yall, enjoy~

Oh here's part 2

--------

Scaramouche

• "Oh you shrank? I couldn't tell-"

• Threatens that he will murder you to pieces and burn your remains but his voice was so squeaky and high pitched (voice crack) that you couldn't help but burst into a tearful laughter. 

• Its payback time  Bully him, take his hat and hover it above his head. Truthfully, without his hat Scaramouche looks like a little schoolboy. Overall less intimidating.

• Tries glaring. Cute. He's really bratty as a kid, sitting on a high chair (which you had to help him get on) and demanding his servants to do his bidding. In reality, his personality never changed. You realized that even as a grown up he still acts like this (bratty kid in a grown man body).

• The curse made his week a living hell. Signora had the audacity to pull his ear when he misbehaves. Childe constantly messes with his hair while giving head pats and the WORST of all, pinching his cheeks. Scaramouche never wanted to commit arson so bad in his life.

• Eventually finds a cure so he doesn't have to deal with it anymore and orders everyone to never speak of it again. Though, he's plotting how he'll get revenge on everyone who made fun of him using the very same curse (You better run).

~~x~~

Diluc

• "Oh…Oh my! Diluc you're just so cute!" 

• Diluc grimaces as you glomp him in this state. How can you help it? With his head so small it makes his hair all the more fluffier! His coat no longer fits him to the point the sleeves had made past his fingertips. He tried wielding his claymore again, only to lose balance and fall flat onto his bum

• (insert kid voice "Retribution!") Did I mention the babyface?

• Diluc tries to act as if everything was normal, acting like the Darknight hero and Mondstadt's Tycoon but fun-sized. He couldn't. There was no way people would take him seriously in business meetings. Same with fighting abyss mages, his smaller form was too much of a disadvantage. Thus you ended up doing most of his paperwork.

• One time you caught him sitting on the floor couldn't reach his office desk  while reading away the various books for a cure. It was three in the morning. You told him it was way past his bedtime and he argues saying when did he ever have a curfew schedule. In the end you managed to convince him and he begrudgingly obliges.

• The type to NOT ask for help even when it's obvious that he really needs it. Before he was the one who helped you reach things from the top shelves, oh how the tables have turned. He avoids Kaeya like a plague unless he was in it for another round of funny remarks. When he wanted to go out and get some fresh air, you insisted on accompanying him. Worst mistake in his life. A travelling merchant bumps into you and commented that you had a very cute son. Diluc was mortified.

• The day ended up with him sulking in his room. Although it was tempting, you resisted from cooing over his adorable form after days of treating him like a child. It wasn't because you were teasing him, Diluc just works so hard that you wanted to spoil him a bit. At least he could still play a game of chess with you.

• When things went back to normal, Diluc ensures that you will NOT see him as your son.

~~x~~

Kaeya

• "Well look who it is, my little Prince Kaeya~"

• Tries really hard not be bothered by it at all. Kaeya still maintains his suave facade, throwing in a couple of flirting lines here and there (and forcing his voice to go a few octaves too low in which puberty has yet to occur HA). Though no matter what approach, he couldn't ignore the sparkling mischievious glint in your eye. You were obviously not taking him seriously.

• Things couldn't get any worse. He lost his masculine physique and boob window, he wasn't able to go to certain places without supervision. But the worst thing of all was that he was underaged. Kaeya hated the fact he couldn't drink anymore, he even insisted you to sneak him a few bottles (which you refused) and had to settle with plain beverages such as fruit juice (what an insult). He was never really grounded since his childhood days but he certainly felt like he was grounded now. 

• Kaeya still kisses you on the lips whether you like it or not. If you ask him to sit on your lap, he will find a way to turn the position into his favour such as resting his face between your breasts. You're not gonna treat him like a kid, nuh-uh, he actively avoids it.

• Since his personality still remains, Kaeya is a naughty child. He will use his innocent appearance to sway people (even you) to get what he wants. That was how he was able to take a sip of the wine he stole somewhere (he wouldn't tell you). Diluc scolded him heavily and threatened to ban him from drinking from his Tavern for a week (they ended up arguing, Kaeya being the passive aggressive little shit he is).

• He was extremely relieved to return back to his normal form again. He has so much to catch up (specifically his bedtime activities with you *wink wonk*)

~~x~~

Child(e)

• "Hmmm to be honest, this actually suits you very much."

• Unlike the other boys, Childe was completely okay with it. Turns out that YOU were the one who was not going to be okay. If you thought taking care of Teucer was energy-draining then expect Childe to take that tenfold and beyond.

• You've officially became his full-time babysitter who is in desperate need of a raise (and rest). You can't take your eyes off of him and archons forbid that he will ever meet Klee. One point he'll be running ahead by your side and the next you'll find him getting himself in a 1vs7 situation with some shady looking treasure hoarders. Childe genuinely thinks he could take them on but the curse downgraded his abilities. You carried him and barely made out of it alive. (This made you ponder whether the best solution would be to strap him against a chair for the time being…)

• Childe being a child will eat all the candies and ice cream he pleases. You wonder if the curse also turned him a few years back or was it that he acts like this simply because he wanted to (it was the latter). He loves being spoiled, spoiled by you! Childe demands your full attention, spoon-feeding his meals, back rubs and head pats. Yep, he's definitely doing this on purpose.

• Did he just call you 'mommy'? (Childe has mommy kink confirmed).  He has so much energy that it was exhausting, you literally had to drag him away from what ever he was doing in order to get him to bed. "No Childe, your sleeping time is 9p.m stop whining." He bargained that he'll sleep if you sleep beside him (you didn't get any sleep. You knew what he was planning. In the end, you tried to make sure he didn't sneak out behind your back.)

• Finally you were able to get out of that hell-hole. Childe promised to make it up to you, you deserve it after all~

~~x~~

Small (aka Xiao)

• "Did you know in the Liyuean language, Xiao translates to small?" You didn't say that out loud. Not when he's this angry (this angy)

• He just stands there, crossing his arms and grumbling. You were hesitant to touch him in case he might hiss at you. Xiao has always been short, maybe an inch taller than you, but seeing him like this made you think 'my almighty yaksha can't be this cute♡'

• He gets mad when you no longer call his name for help. How could you? He's just so precious~ Xiao makes it clear that no matter what form he takes, it doesn't make him weak ("Adepti and you mortals are nothing alike." Or so he says but you could tell he wasn't running as fast as he used to because…small legs). You may not comment on it aloud but he can tell just by the look on your face and it irritates him.

• Also the type to not ask for help but worse. Xiao is an agressive little kid, he seems as if he'll be willing to bite someone's finger off if they try to pet him (He gives strong cat vibes, so thats understandable). His spear was too big for him to wield so he often has to put it away or else he might knock someone over with it. Xiao hates being short so you'll be hearing him complain alot.

• Since he was an adepti, he didn't need to sleep however, the curse must have brought down his power by a significant amount to the point you DID catch him napping. You almost swooned out loud just by taking a glance upon his face. For once he didn't wear his signature grumpy look. Xiao appears like a normal child, one full of innocence. His snoring was soft and breathly but that just meant he was deep asleep. (You wished to take a picture). 

• Of course, everything had to come to an end (much to your disappointment), he still complains about the incident to this day.

~~x~~

Zhongli

• How is it possible for a baby to still look so handsome? (Must be his godly abilities)

• Zhongli is unfazed by this 'curse' since his past lives have already taken many forms. Though for some reason whenever he walks down the streets of Liyue, young girls, mothers, ladies all come him was and start complimenting him and gushing over him (he was suffocating). They'd squeeze him tight or squish his cheeks, it only takes once glance before the little girls start blushing and hiding behind their moms.

• Needless to say, despite what form he is in, Zhongli is still able to get free stuff. He got some free candies and some free kites to play with. You had to help him carry his items. Zhongli ends up tripping too much because his tailcoat reached his feet (he decided to just take it off. You had to hold that too). Seems like he can have anyone do things for him in the end HA.

• He still got that drippy voice and you're just like ???? "What on Teyvat Zhongli, you're a kid." This is why you can't see him as one, its nearly impossible.

• Actively avoids Hu Tao and Childe. Once Hu Tao caught sight of him and chased him for hours, he couldn't stay in one spot knowing that she might just pop out of no where. Childe still spoils him, however Zhongli feels irritated by the fact the only things Childe buys him toys (its different when other people do it.)

• Everytime you guys go back strolling through Liyue, you had to hold his hand in case more women come swarming hin again. You swear that at this rate he might get kidnapped because hes just such a beautiful baby.

• Zhongli learned an important lesson after his curse was lifted: no matter how many years he lives throughout  never take a form of a child.

~~x~~

Albedo

• You find him buried beneath a pile of books and had to dig him out before he suffocates.

• Albedo has the cutest eyes, they're big and round full of curiosity and they sparkle too (he has the prettiest eyes out of everyone tbh). He is the only person who is fascinated by this outcome and immediately goes in the wild to test out his new physique. 

• He was always curious why Klee T-poses when she runs so he decided to try it out himself. She was thrilled to find out that she now has a little brother to play with. In the end, Albedo indulges in the games she always wanted to play but couldn't because he was too old: princess dress up tea parties.

• You felt many things when you saw Albedo wearing a frilly gown and a plastic tiara tucked on his head. Deep down you knew regardless of what gender Albedo was still pretty. Klee even had the guts to redo his hair and hardly anyone was able to recognize it was him at all. He has pigtails, PIGTAILS! You made sure to burn that image into the very depths of your mind forever.

• The only advantage was the he was ablw to fit through small spaces, other than that, being small was way too inconvenient. He knocked down a few of his potion bottles which damaged the floor (thankfully not him) because they were lethal (he wonders how Klee was able to not injure herself when using bombs). You carried him and lifted him to alot of places such as trudging through the snow because Albedo would surely fall on his face due to his small form.

• Enough was enough, he only lasted a day with this and decided to just make a potion and put an end to the curse once and for all. 

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Any prompts for prey guys being lured into a false sense of security around sweet, good-natured himbo preds, mistakenly assuming that they won’t get eaten? (Oral vore plz!)

Oh here’s some more really good himbo vore tropes.

Everyone in the D.nD group loved the big lug that had been playing with them that night. Sure, he'd eaten their healer after running out of snacks, and sure, he'd digested the poor guy down into nothing but some gut sludge and chub in a matter of minutes. But his friendly smile and genuine kindness reassured them all that he wasn't a bad guy. Besides, the healer had been responsible for getting snacks and he forgot, so it was his own fault for having to sate the gut's hunger. Maybe it should have been a warning sign that the healer had been eaten and digested in under ten minutes, but they kept playing anyway, not realizing the big guy's stomach would be grumbling again almost immediately. And they still didn't have snacks. That's how the guy playing their mage wound up down the hatch, his chubby belly apparently too much for the hungry himbo to resist. The D.M's narration was interrupted by the sound of bubbling and belching as he was digested a few minutes later, but otherwise, they were sure two people was more than enough to sate the big guy. It wasn't. Their monk went down next, dragged over the table in the middle of combat, and scarfed down with ease. With just a barbarian and a rouge left, the battle got harder. Not that it'd matter for the rouge because he was halfway down the himbo's gullet while their monk was halfway through his system. The D.M realizes there might've been a reason such a friendly man had been searching for a new D.nD group, but that thought only occurred to him when his feet joined him in the himbo's stomach. He didn't have any more thoughts after that, at least, because he was churned into belly fat a minute later with the rest of the group. Seems like the big guy needed another group already. It was the third time this week! He still can't understand how he goes through them all so fast.

Having a big idiot on the team was normally useful for getting a brick wall out on the field quickly. It also helped that everyone seemed to like him so much despite...certain habits. It kept the morale of the group high, so even if he wasn't the brightest player around, he got to keep his place on the team. There was another reason the coach liked having him around, though. Watching the big lug scoop up his fellow teammates and shovel them down the hatch as energy boosts or bulking supplements was something the coach couldn't get enough of. Sure, it meant constantly having to recruit new players because he went through them so damn fast, but it was fine if it meant he could watch another man go down that gullet and add to the player's frame. And despite that voraciousness being a bit of an open secret, people were still very amicable with him. Even if one of their fellow teammates was stewing away in that gut right in front of them. That coach should have known he was playing with fire, but it never really occurred to him that his authority didn't mean anything to a man whose two brain cells only ever clicked together if it meant getting a meal. So when he pushed his luck, told the player to find the biggest damn slab of meat he can for bulk prep for the championship, he probably should have been more careful with his wording. But he wasn't, and what turned from him wanting to see the player try choking down the biggest guy on the team turned into the coach diving headfirst into that drooling maw. He kicked and wiggled but it didn't stop him from filling up the gut that so many others had filled. And he knew what was going to happen to him now. He'd be joining the team as more heft, and hopefully, the next coach isn't as careless as he was.

He'd seen his friend do it a hundred times before. They'd go to the gym to work out and his buddy would ask some muscular beast of a man to be his workout protein boost. It never seemed to matter how big or strong or gruff those guys were either--they'd always look his friend in the eye, their face would soften, and they'd mumble out a yes. Then he'd watch his friend mulch some 200 pounds of pure muscle down in a scary fast amount of time and they'd get on with their workout. He'd honestly been freaked out the first time, but his friend was just a nice and genuine guy, even if he was a meathead, that he got over it all pretty fast. Besides, they were friends, so what's the harm? Well, the harm came from entering an empty locker room with his friend. When he heard the question, he'd looked over expecting to see his buddy talking to another dude, but he ended up looking right into those soft, pleading eyes instead. Saying yes had just been an instinctual thing. It didn't click for him until he was staring into those open, drooling jaws that he was about to die for the sake of an hour-long workout session. The ride down was tight and hot and constricting and his friend's tongue was not shy about tasting him. The stomach wasn't much better, and just as he opened his mouth to change his mind, his friend opened his mouth to let out a booming belch. The walls closed in so fast that he never even realized it when he was mulched down into sludge in seconds. But at least his friend would get a good workout.