#i was thinking about my very first event i ever held on my blog

[lale-txt]

3:41 AM and neck kisses all the way from the jaw to your collarbones, and big arms wrapping gently around your waist from behind, hips rolled lazily, and pillow talk that turns into hushed and pleading prayers of more more more and shh relax baby or it won’t fit, and quiet whining when the hand around your neck lingers long enough to make you beg a little, and featherlight taps against your cheeks asking you to open up, to devour everything placed on the tip of your tongue, the spit and the essence of yours; it’s the lovers and the lonely who are the only ones awake

[acey-wacey]

Good morning!!! Congrats for hitting 2000 followers, I think you really deserve it! Also, I'm really glad that you've returned! I've been following your blog ever since last year, when I found your "Love Rivals" and "Meeting your future children", I really like how you portray the twst characters in your writings! There are times where I smiled For the 2000 milestone event, could I please request Idia with Lavender (Mind Reading)? You know how Idia usually think lowly himself, right? What if Idia has feelings for reader, yet he doesn't take action because of his low self-esteem/fear of rejection, but when Idia got in a potion accident where he can temporarily read minds, all he can hear from reader's mind are praises and thoughts of infatuation/admiration about him.

So that's the general idea of it, the rest is up to you. Also, I don't mind if you'll make a few changes here and there. That's all, thank you and have a nice day!

This is so cute! Thank you for hanging around so long!

I may have niche-video-game-referenced my way a little too close to the sun with this one. Hopefully, it makes sense to somebody.

...

Pairing - Idia Shroud x Reader

Prompt - Mind Reader

...

"Tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna, tuna..."

It has been 40 minutes since Idia had gained his powers of telepathy and already he wanted them gone. Grim hadn't had a single thought the entire class except a dumb song he made up about tuna.

The whole thing had been Grim's fault really. The mischievous cat had run away from you and invaded the 3rd year alchemy room. And of course he ran right into Idia just as the upperclassman was adding ground eye of newt to his animal comprehension potion, causing the vial to smash all over him.

You had apologized profusely and tried to wrangle Grim back to your classroom, but Crewel made you miss your class and clean all the dirty cauldrons as punishment, thus why Idia couldn't stop hearing Grim's

Everyone else went on with making their potion, but unfortunately for Idia and his tendency to get overstimulated, he could hear the immediate thoughts of every person in the classroom. He had been trying and failing to pay attention to the lesson due to the crazy noise. Serves him right for daring to venture outside his room.

"I think I put too much nightshade."

"When's lunch again?"

"Sevens, he's pretty."

Idia perked up in his seat. That last one was your voice. He looked over to where you were scrubbing grime off the rim of a black cauldron. Much to his surprise, he made eye contact with you. You looked away so fast, he almost thought he imagined it in the first place.

"Shoot, I hope he didn't catch me staring," you thought. Idia could see the embarrassment in your face now that he knew what he was looking for. He didn't know who was standing behind him, but whoever the guy was was maxed out in luck to get the prefect to like him.

Idia turned back to his cauldron and began to stir lethargically. He tried to block out the noise coming from everyone's thoughts but it was getting very loud. He just wanted to be back in his room playing video games!

"His little pout is so cute! Poor thing, he probably wishes he was back in his room," you thought. Idia's brows furrowed as he subtly looked around the classroom trying to find the person you were thinking about. "I wonder what he's looking for."

Idia snapped back to look at you, only to find you glancing at him again. This time, you were startled but you held his gaze and offered a hesitant wave.

Idia turned his face away as fast as he could so you wouldn't see the growing blush on his face.

"Hm, his hair is turning pink on the ends. I hope he's not mad at me for staring at him," you thought, turning back to the cauldron you were working on. "Though if he doesn't want me to look at him, maybe he should try being less nice to look at."

Idia let out an involuntary squeak. He felt his head start to swim and quickly sat down on a nearby stool. He was sure he looked absolutely crazy to the other students but he was so preoccupied by your thoughts that were apparently about him.

"Is that shallow of me to think that? I don't know. I mean, I don't like him just because he's cute. I also love listening to him talk about games he likes and his inventions are crazy awesome!"

Idia pulled himself deeper into his jacket. Your gaze had been fixed firmly on your work for fear of being caught staring again, so you didn't notice Idia's rapidly increasing fluster meter.

"I like how sweet he is to Ortho, even though he kind of hates everyone else." You sounded kind of defeated when you thought that, or at least you would if your thoughts sounded like anything. "He probably hates me too. I am just another normie. Though I don't know if he co-ops Untitled Goose Game with just anyone."

"No! I don't!" he wanted to scream, but he couldn't get a single sound out of his mouth. He thought he was the self-deprecating one, but you seemed to have convinced yourself that the boy who had a big fat, very obvious crush on you hated you. He even let you play the blue switch controller even though it was his favorite.

"I do wish he would stop being so mean to himself though," you thought, more sincere than Idia expected. "He's so amazing, but refuses to believe anything nice I or Ortho say to him. Maybe if he read my mind, he'd know I'm being sincere."

Idia froze. Did you know about the potion? Had you been messing with him the whole time?

"Well, that little brat better believe me when I tell him I love him even if I have to beat it into him with a Wii remote tennis racket attachment," you thought with a playful vengeance. "Do you hear that, Idia Shroud? I'm gonna make you believe nice things about yourself no matter how many niche video games references it takes!"

That was the moment you decided to glance at Idia, downright shocked when you found him curled up inside his hoodie on a stool with bright pink hair poking out the top.

"Idia, are you okay?" you asked. When he didn't respond, you went up to him and brought your face down to where his would be if you could see it. "Hey, are you alright?"

He jumped, almost falling off the chair.

"You actually said that?" he looked stunned which confused you.

"Yes?" you offered, unsure what he was talking about. "I did just say it."

"Uh, um, I'm, uh, fine," Idia tried to smile at you but it came off more pained than reassuring.

"I don't believe you. What's the matter? Is it too loud in here?" you asked.

"Shame he's always hiding his face. His blush is so adorable!"

"Yes!" Idia shrieked frantically, catching the attention of a few nearby students. "It's too loud. I can't think."

You nodded empathetically.

"You wanna step out for a minute?" you offered, gesturing to the door with a nod of your head. Idia nodded, desperate to get away. It really was very loud, especially with everyone's thoughts flooding his brain. Your seemingly-harmless sweet nothings were only the final nail in his coffin.

You followed Idia out of the room and shut the door behind you.

"Won't Professor Crewel get mad?"

You scoffed.

"Not a single teacher at this school gets to get mad at me after everything I've done," you leaned against the wall with a calming smile. "And if they do, they'll answer to the ghosts that live in my house."

That made Idia chuckle. You lit up seeing a smile on his face, no matter how minute.

"I love seeing you smile. If only I could be the reason more often."

"You're pretty much the only reason," Idia mumbled. Your easy smile dropped.

"What did you say?"

"What?" Idia averted his eyes, his mind filling with panic. "I didn't say anything."

"No, no, you said 'you're pretty much the only reason'," you questioned, your eyes full of confusion and shock. "That sounded like... I don't know, I was thinking something and then you said that and it sounded like..."

You squinted in confusion before scoffing at yourself and relaxing.

"That's stupid, Y/N. He can't read your mind."

"Actually, I can?" Idia squeaked, his voice getting higher with every word. Your eyes widened.

"Idia," you said solemnly, standing dead still.

"Mm-hm?"

"You can read my mind."

"Well, not usually, but there was a thing with a potion and it was with Grim and it messed with my head and now I can read minds and it's actually really loud but mostly I'm just nervous because of the stuff you've been thinking and I'm just really..."

You held up a hand to silence Idia's rapid rambling. He looked away sheepishly. You sighed and blinked a few times to process before laughing. Idia looked up in confusion.

"Aren't you mad?" he asked hesitantly. "I violated your privacy."

"I mean, you saved me the time of confessing to you myself," you chuckled, a giddy smile on your face.

Idia stared at you, trying to find traces of joking but you seemed to be serious.

"You aren't mad?"

"I'm in love with you is what I am."

[inhuman-obey-me]

Hello! Congratulations of 4000+ followers! Y'all do amazing writing, and its been really cool to see the blog grow overtime

For the event, may I request⚡️with Diavolo and yes on MC! Thank you so much, and I hope y'all have a good day

Thank you so much!! ;//u//; And also thank you for sticking around for so long -- it really does mean a lot! 💕

"What good is this "great power" of mine? Absolutely everything slips through my fingers." - Diavolo/MC

You hadn’t asked for this power. 

No, it was something that had been thrust into your hands, into your very being as the trajectory of your life changed the instant you opened your eyes and found your gaze held by pools of gold in an unknown and dangerous world. It was that one moment that began the unraveling, the revealing of all that you were and to be. 

It seems like such a distant memory now, that first day in the Devildom. 

No, you hadn’t asked for this power, but you didn’t refute it either. You had welcomed it, reveled in it. You had been plunged into a world of magic and monsters, angels and demons, witches and sorcerers – and you, a mere human who had been oblivious to the very real existence of this world in the shadows, were considered to be one of the most powerful mortals among it. 

And yet, as of late, you had been feeling absolutely powerless.

“Love, you’ve barely touched your food.” Diavolo’s gentle voice brings you out of your thoughts, and you look up now to meet those same golden eyes you first held all those years ago. His gaze flickers to your hand, where you’ve been fidgeting with the Ring of Light. The one thing stopping your very existence from ending the world as you knew it.

“Sorry,” You give him an apologetic smile as you lift your fork, letting it slowly sink into one of the vegetables on your plate. “I guess I just have a lot on my mind.” 

“Care to share?” He’s worried. “You know you can tell me anything.” 

“I know.” A sigh, and you set your fork down as you lean back in your chair. You try to find the words, your emotions half-formed on your tongue. “It’s just…with everything going on, I feel rather…useless.” 

“Useless? You?” Diavolo nearly scoffs, leaning forward in bewilderment. “What makes you think that? Surely, we’ve all told you how you’ve done so much for us, for the Three Realms.” 

“Have I, though?” You feel your throat begin to tighten, so you try to force your feelings down. “Everyone says that, and sure, to some extent I’ve played my part. But,” Your fingers tighten around the napkin in your lap. “You all have helped each other. I’ve just been a conduit, and sometimes I…I’ve been more of a problem to solve than a solution.” 

“That’s not true–”

“But it is!” 

Your voice cracks then, and you realize you can’t keep down the swirl of doubt and agony any longer. Before you even feel the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, you find Diavolo now right beside you, holding your hands in his. 

“My love, you hold more power than you can even begin to imagine.”

“And what of it!” You hastily remove your hands from his grasp, waving to the air around you. “What good is this ‘great power’ of mine?” The tears have escaped, and there’s a pang in your chest. “Absolutely everything slips through my fingers. I’ve barely begun to understand it and…and I don’t even know if I could save the very ones I care about from those that wish them harm.” Your eyes flicker to the ceiling, and you try to blink back the salt that hasn’t already slid down your cheeks. “I’ve come closer to destroying everything with it!” 

The silence that follows your outburst is heavy. Diavolo examines your visage with a somber expression, his lips that so often are curved into a grin now taut and straight. It feels like ages before he finally speaks. 

“It’s a terrible feeling, isn’t it?” You don’t know if you’ve ever heard his voice so low before. He was a demon who could make a whole room shake with his jovial laugh. “There are days where I, too, feel utterly powerless.” 

“You?” Grasping at that napkin again, you bring it up to dry your face. “But–”

“I’m the ruler of the Devildom? One of the most powerful beings in the Three Realms? Yes, my dear. All great power comes with its golden chains, with its obstacles.” With a heavy sigh, Diavolo looks around the lavish dining hall you were both seated in. “A faction of the House of Lords continuously tries to undermine me, scheming behind my back to try and throw me out of my position.” His gaze now falls onto a painting on the distant wall, brushstrokes capturing war and fury. “The Celestial Realm tests my patience, mocking me at times as they play their own games, mainly of semantics.” 

He turns his attention back to you with a sad smile. “They’re all waiting to find a crack, see what will bring me down to my knees. They’ve nearly succeeded at times. Made me feel like I was just a child playing at king. Made me feel that no matter the power I possessed, they could still pull the rug from under me.” 

His hands find yours again, and this time you let them stay. 

“But what I found is that despite it all, despite all the power that I possess, what really puts my feet on solid ground is having those who still stand by my side through it all.” He looks deep into your eyes, and once more you’re captivated by that calming gold.

“And you, darling, have some of the best by yours.”

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

Shamefully Rollo is one of my favs, so I mean how about a prompt on Yandere!Rollo bring clingy to Yuu

Or

Rollo post-festival being friends with Yuu and it becomes something more(plus angst with yk him being very two faced w/ trauma and all 🤷‍♀️)

this one is more focused on the first prompt, but I also sorta did my own thing, but I’m proud of it!!! Enjoy, lovey!

{takes place after the Glorious masquerade event, and based on an idea from another writer where Rollos punishment is to attend NRC.}

warnings: yes, this is yandere content, I’m a yandere blog who just happens to write my characters soft. Thoughts of somnophillia, Rollo is a heavy worshipper, male masturbation, pathetic Rollo (no different from canon), Rollo makes out with you while you’re in a deep sleep caused by a potion he slipped into your food, creepy Rollo, small hint of yandere Azul, Riddle, and Malleus, pussystarved Rollo are any of my characters NOT pussy starved? A little bit of masochist Rollo.

Fragile.

Rollo loved you, that was for certain.

He loved the way you fidgeted with your writing utensils or your clothes when you were bored and occasionally distracted, the way the sun caught in your stunning (h/c) hair, the way your gorgeous, dreamer eyes constantly flitted about and took in your surroundings with never fading intrigue and liveliness.

He loved the way you were laid stretched out in front of him currently, sleeping and unaware of him creeping about your room.

Ever since you had stepped onto the property of Nobel Bell College with those damned NRC students, he had taken a special interest in you. You, who was magicless and surrounded by wolves who would tear you apart and taint you at a seconds notice out of their own selfishness. In his eyes, you needed protection from harm. After all, you appeared to be such a fragile thing, but…

Rollo could not have been more wrong.

After the whole Crimson Lotus fiasco, the reveal of his plans to rid twisted wonderland of magic, the knowledge of what happened to his brother, it was you, you, magicless, wonderful, compassionate you who held his delicate and crumbling self together in the aftermath. It was you who cradled him in your arms like he was fine china and used your own body to shield him from the smoldering glares of your friends, as your kindness pierced his very soul like a dagger made out of pure gold.

It was you and you alone who could fill his body with such heat it nearly suffocated him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was your name he whimpered and sobbed pathetically to himself when he was breaking down or desperately rutting into his fist, the thought of your touch the only thing he could focus on.

When the time came for you and the rest of the NRC students to leave, it took every bit of Rollos self restraint to keep from lashing out, especially when a certain Malleus Draconia, Azul Ashengrotto, and Riddle Rosehearts had all stood protectively in front of you when he tried to pull you aside to give you a personal farewell.

It would have been so easy to spirit you away to the bell tower or his room, if only he had been able to get you alone.

Rollo despised magic with all his being, and even more so he hated himself for being born with such a gift. However, as he watched you give him one last pitying look before finally departing, he was thankful for the small spell he murmured which transported a pair of your underwear from your packed clothes to underneath the fabric of his uniform. Now, Rollo was not a man who appreciated pity, and never saw himself as an individual who would accept such pathetic sentiments, but later that night as he held the fabric of your underwear to his face and frantically bucked his hips into his precum covered hand, he found himself thinking that he would accept any look from you that came his way as long as it was just that. That you were looking at him. Paying attention to him, even if it was delivered in the form of anger or the pity he seemed to despise so much.

Rollo had seldom gotten off before meeting you, and even then he never got off to anyone or anything, simply chasing his high with a blank mind for stress relief and always feeling revolted by himself afterwards. You had been the one to walk into his life and change that. Of course you had. Now Rollo struggled to go a day without cuming to the thought of you, imagining your gentle touch all over his aching body as you kissed him with as much love as he felt for you.

Enough love to harm someone for simply looking at you the wrong way.

Of course, Nobel bell college was not just going to ignore what he had done. Rollo knew better than that. It took the school a full week to decide upon a proper punishment, during which he only left his dorm for meals and to maintain the bell tower, which gave him plenty of time to think and fantasize about you. He wondered if you thought about him at all, about his thinly veiled fragile state that you had seen him in last.

Rollo was well aware that being transferred to NRC was supposed to be a punishment, that he would most likely be looked down upon and treated ruthlessly, but it took every ounce of self control to keep a giddy grin off of his face at the prospect of seeing you again. That being said, the shock that painted itself on his pale face again you opened the door to the Ramshackle dorm, the place he was now supposed to live, was near comical. Immediately, he had brought his purple handkerchief to his mouth, desperate to save face and regain his composure.

“Greetings, prefect.” Rollo had murmured hastily.

At seeing the normally cold former student president being so shy, a gentle smile had spread across your perfect, pretty lips. Lips that Rollo wanted to kiss him breathless, lips that Rollo had fantasized about covering the expanse of his flesh in bruising kisses and bites until he was so thoroughly marked up he couldn’t possibly hide them all.

Lips that Rollo was willing to kill for to keep all to himself.

“Hi, Rollo. How many times do I have to tell you that you can just call me (y/n)?” You had said, teasingly pulling his handkerchief away from his lips and flicking his nose before pulling him inside as he flushed crimson, bringing him to his current position.

—————————————————————————

Rollo was standing over your bed, watching as you slept without any interruptions, curtesy of the sleeping potion he had brewed just mere hours earlier. The moonlight spilled from your open curtains, highlighting your beautiful form as deep breathes moved your frame. Kneeling down beside the bed, Rollo moved his face close to yours and moved his hand to cup your face, absentmindedly stroking your cheek and swiping his tongue over his lips. You looked so peaceful and serene, not to mention warm underneath your blankets, and Rollo couldn’t deny himself the overwhelming urge to crawl into bed with you and cuddle. He had already moved a drugged Grimm away into another room, so there was nothing that could interrupt his time alone with you.

Eagerly, Rollo pulled back the covers on your bed and ensnared himself between your arms, your foreheads pressed against each other as he nuzzled your nose with his own. As his gaze fell to your lips, a small smile pulled on his own as he slowly started to lean forward, desperate for even just a little bit of your love whether fabricated or not. The moment his lips locked with yours, a needy moan reverberated from his mouth to yours. The relief of finally being able to touch you was getting to Rollo as his thoughts became cloudy and his legs tangled with yours. The kiss was clumsy and shaky, like a fawn learning to stand for the first time, as Rollo wrapped his arms around you and pressed his body flush against yours, his skin burning with heat. If you had been awake, you might have likened the way he practically devoured your mouth to the way of a man getting his first taste of food in years.

Moving one of his hands to yours, he slowly brought your entwined fingers up to his hair, positioning your digits in the white locks as he used his own to tighten your grasp and lightly tug on the sensitive strands, moaning as he imagined you lightly tilting his head back so you could access his neck and dig your teeth into his skin. The thought of his blood on your teeth was an appealing one, the scarlet red contrasting against your beautiful skin. Rollo made another keening noise, free to be as loud as he wanted as no one else who could wake up was around, when he brought your hand from his hair down to his throat and forced your fingers to squeeze around the sides of his neck like a vice, his mind wandering to different scenarios where you decided to dish out your own punishment to him for trying to hurt those disgusting magic users you called friends. He imagined your hand wrapped around his throat as you pulled him in for bruising kisses, only to tie his hands above his head, unable to touch you more than what you would allow.

“Did you really think I had forgotten about what you tried to pull?” You would mock as your nails traced teasing lines over his thighs as you straddled him.

“Are you really so foolish to believe that I wouldn’t notice that you swiped my underwear when I left? Honestly, you’re such a perv.”

Oh, and how Rollo would whine and beg for your touch, he thought to himself. How he would agree and beg for you to give him your own special brand of justice.

“Did you think I would just let you get away with it? Hm? No, no, no, my love, I was simply waiting for the perfect time to punish you, and now-” you would lean over him and harshly pinch the tip of his cock, causing him to whine and squirm as he looked up at you with teary eyes. “-I have you right where I want you.”

“Please, please, please, please! I was a fool! I know I was! Punish me! Do anything you want to me! Just let me prove myself to be worthy of you!”

He would tug on his restraints, but other than that, Rollo would be more than content to be your little plaything for as long as he lived.

Using his thumb and forefinger on his other hand, he gently grasped your chin and moved your jaw down before wrapping his arms around you again, connecting his lips in another searing kiss as his tongue began to invade your mouth. Small whimpers were muffled by your mouth as Rollo became all too aware of how pitifully hard he was in his pajama pants, his hips rolling against yours in a desperate attempt to gain friction from your sleeping form. Tears ran down his face as he separated from you for the briefest moment to tug himself out from beneath his waistband, his reddened cock already leaking precum. Rollo turned back to face you and immediately wrapped his arms around you once more, rutting against you as more moans and choked sobs spilled from his puffy lips before they were swiftly connected to yours with fervor.

“Oh, please, please, (y/n)! I need you so bad, but I don’t deserve it! I’m just a disgusting pervert who doesn’t deserve to be near you, someone so pure. Mm~ mmmm~ but I want it, want you! Need you! Mm, mm, mm, ah!~ please!~”

Moving his hips faster, Rollo began to pant and bite his lip, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh and causing it to bleed. Moving his tongue to lick up the blood and keep it from staining anything on your bed, Rollo imagined using the wet appendage to please you. Imagined kneeling between your spread thighs and desperately drinking down all that you had to offer as you pet his hair and praised him, calling him a good boy. Just the mere thought of getting your cum on his tongue made his cock twitch and his hips stutter in his rhythm, not like he had much of one to begin with anyway. He was trying to hold himself back, trying to make the moment last as long as possible, trying to do his best to learn how to hold out for you so that when the real thing happened he wouldn’t embarrass himself by cumming pitifully early. Trying wasn’t enough. While he was grinding against you, your pajama shirt had slid up slightly without Rollo noticing, and all it took was for the head of his cock to lightly brush against the warm skin of your tummy for his lips to part in a near shout of your name before a thick white liquid coated the area and his abdomen.

Coming down from his high, Rollo pulled you as close as possible as the last twitches and jerks of his hips died down. Finally collecting himself slightly, Rollo pulled his pajama pants back up and shifted his face down to the sperm that coated your skin. He could practically hear you say, “clean up your mess, Rollo. Like a good boy.”, and that’s exactly what he planned to do. Carefully, Rollo began to lick up the mess he had made over your soft skin, his eyes half lidded as the exhaustion of staying up so late began to take its toll on him. Gulping down the last of his cum, Rollo quickly crawled back up to your face and pulled you in for a long, loving kiss. The potion would keep you asleep for a good few hours still, and he had enough faith in his internal alarm clock to wake up before you and go back to his own room, so for now he was going to cuddle you and sleep in bed with you until then.

“Goodnight, (y/n). I love you.”

After pulling you into his arms and checking you over to make sure you were completely alright and comfortable, Rollo finally allowed his fragile and damaged mind to drift off to sleep.

[stilljuststardust]

Frontal lobe is loading...

How I became stardust and why I'm taking time for myself

I'm discussing quite a lot, but this post also details the origins of my blog.

I don't typically make personal posts. I have for the most part kept everything about me private. If you ever wondered what pushed me out of the nest and finally made me understand myself and the law this post is it. It's probably not what you are expecting because it was not a revelation about manifestation that finally made everything work out for me, it was a revelation about myself.

Before anyone worries, I'm ok. The events I'm describing have affected me but though it was distressing when it first happened it was a necessary catalyst in my growth.

For those who are less familiar with how my blog started, I downloaded Tumblr at the beginning of the year because I was desperate for an outlet. I was in a bad mental state.

I will not describe in detail what had happened. The short version is I was beginning to realize someone I loved very deeply wasn't who I thought they were. They were much older than me and we met when I was still in my mid teens.

Essentially, my frontal lobe developed and I was like wait who the fuck are you and why did I give you so much power in my life? Why did I let you make me feel like I couldn't do this or like I didn't have any power of my own?

It's insane how as you grow older you can feel your cognitive abilities load. Suddenly your brain is older and suddenly you realize what you were too young to realize before.

Out of nowhere I was all alone with the knowledge that I had never truly been safe with anyone. I had no choice but to go within.

I had no one to turn to but myself. So, I did. I turned to myself and for the first time I began to answer my own questions instead of seeking the answer from others.

I went within and for the first time everything clicked.

I formed my own opinions, I sought validation from no one but myself.

I am begging you to place power in yourself. Stop placing others above you, whether it be a blogger you think has some kind of secret knowledge, a friend you idolize, someone you think knows better than yourself.

They don't have some secret knowledge, they aren't more powerful or more lucky. The only difference between the bloggers you idolize and yourself is they put trust in themselves and you put your trust in them.

I suddenly understood shifting, the law, myself. I was evolving rapidly into a new version of myself.

In retrospect I realize that for years the only thing that held me back was my connection to that person. It clouded my mind. When left to my own devices I would have rapid progress and I would feel enlightenment only to be pulled back into the muddy mindset and mental space that came with knowing them. It was off and on for way too long.

When I cut them off I started to experience instant and effortless manifestations. Even if I don't truly understand how or why that's what happened.

Earlier this week new details about the situation were revealed to me in a way that I can only describe as reverse flash type fuckery. I'd like to thank my friends for supporting me through that realization. @caffeinatedmoonboy @lovebvni

I have discovered that my peace and my time for myself is deeply deeply sacred.

My blog started as me speaking into the void. I finally had a place to share MY perspective and MY thoughts. I finally had power over my own perspective.

Someone who cannot care for themselves cannot truly care for others

It has been a wonderful thing to hear from so many that I changed their perspective or that I helped them shift, manifest, grow. In a way this blog became my way of holding space for myself.

I love answering questions on this blog, and I am honored that I am asked them. It's amazing to watch so many people grow how I did. However, I do feel like people underestimate the emotional labor that comes with it. Unfortunately being the target of others frustrations and doubts comes with the territory.

You're probably familiar with the incredibly angry hate filled messages that come from antis but if you don't have a blog yourself it is possible you don't realize how common it is from people within the community to mistreat bloggers.

I know you've probably seen post after post from frustrated bloggers and if you've never run one yourself you probably don't realize why they're so frustrated.

This community has a MAJOR entitlement problem. You are not entitled to my time.

I say NONE of this to guilt anyone or discourage asking questions. I just would like to express that I have been on the receiving end of many peoples hatred and frustration.

I do not know you. I'm an 18 year old with autism on the Internet.

I'm so so grateful people want my input and advice, and I love giving it. Just please realize I'm a real person. This isn't my job, I'm not getting paid, I'm not omnipresent. I'm going to miss questions, I'm going to misword things.

This is something I run in my free time. Believe me, I want to help as many people as I can but that doesn't mean you are entitled to me.

I have SO much empathy for the pain and frustration that may come with your journey, but I don't know you and your frustration is misplaced.

You can ask me a million questions but I cannot force you to apply the law. I cannot force you to change your mindset.

I cannot do the work for you. Even if I have tried.

This past week I have begun on the next part of my self growth is boundaries. I shouldn't pressure myself to answer questions when I'm exhausted, or when I'm sick. Even if that is what some people expect of me.

What you feed your subconscious mind is important and it cannot be healthy for me to constantly consume others negative and limiting beliefs even if it is to disprove them.

I am stepping into a new version of myself. I am entering a part of my life where I will set boundaries unapologetically and prioritize myself.

I'm crawling back into my cocoon, I urge you to do the same.

If you take away nothing else take away this:

Invest in yourself. Put faith in yourself and stop placing your power in things outside of you. Self is what you carry with you, it is what you can never leave behind. When you finally realize you are the most powerful thing in your reality the rest will fall into place.

Thanks for listening <3

- Stardust

[lemonmelonboy]

Lonely for the First Time Ever

Jack x Reader

TW: Ian /j, Cheating, Loneliness

Content: GN!Reader

Word Count: 3317

Summary: My own fun take on Day 1 (?) of Somethings Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.

18+ Readers ONLY - Minors Do NOT Interact! Minors/Ageless Blogs will be Blocked!!!

I Do NOT give any permission for my work to be Reposted, Translated, or used with AI in ANY Capacity!!!

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You had just dragged yourself out of your apartment after being called in to cover your flakey co-worker for possibly the millionth time that year. You surely missed your days off at this point, wishing to have just one every week rather than every other week. You sighed heavily walking down the sidewalk, as Jack trailed alongside you. It was cold and stormy, the rain was pelting the sidewalk and cars were passing by in a slum. It was such a peaceful walk.

You walked silently with Jack politely carrying your umbrella; you had protested but he very much insisted he take it for you. The rain soothed your racing mind, but that only made it so you thought slower about the things on your mind. You ran over what had just happened before you were rudely interrupted by your boss’s phone call. How Jack had held you so close, how you imagined kissing him for a brief moment, and how you wish you had. You mulled it over and over, unable to shake the image of the cuddly Jack. How Jack had looked at you with those love sick eyes. How bad you wanted to stay. Thoughts raced about why, which brought up feelings from the past few months. But as you slipped into your thoughts Jack gently bumped your arm, a playful event that he’d tend to do on your walks. It made you smile, he always knew how to make you smile, especially with little things like that. You look around trying to keep yourself in the present, but the pittering of the rain on the umbrella and sidewalk luls you back into thoughts of Jack and your loneliness.

“Sunshine?” Jack's voice cooed kindly. You looked up to him, suddenly pulled back.

“Hm?” you looked around as you realized you almost walked straight by your work. A soft embarrassed blush works its way across your cheeks.

You slip into the door, walking to the back to set your things down, ignoring Barry’s comments on how thankful he is you could come in and how absolutely sorry he is for having to do it. When you come back from the back of the store you find he had already left. You sigh as you find yourself alone in the shop, going through your list of menial tasks for the day. You work quietly as Jack hangs around, quietly helping when he can. It's weird to have him be so comfortable with how quiet you’re being. Usually he does anything to try to fill the silence, like whistling a small tune. However the man who stood before you now would only give you an encouraging smile whenever you looked at him and never said a word, not until you spoke up.

“Jack..” You sighed his name as you relaxed against the counter having finished all the tasks you needed to. You didn’t even have anything to tell, least not in a way you knew how. He perked up like a puppy being offered a treat.

“Yes, sunshine?” he asks sweetly. You looked at him and could feel your body warm as you saw his happy face and his kind eyes looking at you almost needingly. You mull over a single thought in your head and he can see you are resisting saying what you were thinking. “Is everything alright?” his happy look slowly fades to concern. Then he looks away with a soft blush on his cheeks. “It's okay to want that.. to want to be wanted..” he said breathily and quietly, almost like he was embarrassed by his own words.

“Wh-what are you saying?'' How did he know? You were sure you were only thinking to yourself, and you weren’t a vocal thinker.

“I just… sometimes people are like that for you, and it's okay to have a person you want to be with all the time… to want them to want you… and wanting them..?” He ended it like a question, almost like he wanted you to just admit it all to him right then and there.

“Wha- I- '' You didn’t know what you should say to him. You were so embarrassed at the implication that he was who you wanted- or the implication you wanted someone else.

“Do you… want me?” he asked, quieter than ever. He was still pretty blunt with it- looking at you with a pair of hopeful puppy eyes that made your body scream for you to just say “yes” and let him hold you. “I know it's hard to say- but I can help you learn what words to use to express these feelings.” He gently urges, moving closer to you reaching out almost as if he was ready to hug you, and hold you and possibly never let go.

“But- I- it's just that’s- you can’t just ask something like that- I-“ He moves closer, his hands resting on the counter behind you, he makes a point of not touching you yet, but wanting to get closer to you. A warmth spreads over your face into a sweet blush as you figure out how to answer. You felt in that moment that you wanted him to hold you, to grab you the best he could.

“I want to be there for you- whether you want me like that or not.. I’ll be there for you however you need me- I just want what’s best for you- What will make you happy-'' suddenly your phone starts ringing, interrupting Jack and causing him to step away. A soft frustrated look comes over his face as he looks away. You take up the cell phone, glad to have been interrupted right then, afraid if he continued your heart would have given out.

“Oh- Uh- I'll be- back!”

Jack nods slightly, “It might be important- so- don’t worry alright? I’ll still be here when you get back!” He said encouragingly as he let you walk past him.

You really shouldn’t be taking calls at work, but you didn’t care. You also didn't care if the call was spam and you picked it up without checking the name plastered on the screen. You quickly ducked to the kitchen camera blind spot.

“Hello?” You spoke with that pitch in your voice encouraging the person calling to speak. You were hopeful it was something that would take your mind off everything.

“You picked up-“ an all too familiar voice came through, in awe, and dripping with desperation. You froze, the last person you ever wanted to hear, especially with how your day was going. Ian. “Hey..” He spoke again, trying to fill in your quiet response. You hadn’t forgotten about him, but you hadn’t expected he’d call you while you were at work. “Are you alright?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine..” You could hear him sigh softly in relief as you responded.

“I-I’ve missed you… and your voice..” he almost whimpered into the phone.

“What- what do you need Ian. I’m- at work, you can’t be calling me like this” You asked quietly, surprise still filling your tone more than any anger or demandingness.

“I-I know,, I didn't expect you to pick up! I-I’m sorry…” Ian said, he sounded so sad, and you do feel a little bad. He was your life long friend, and what felt like even longer lover. But he hurt you, and objectively you know you shouldn’t feel sorry for him, or how you treat him.

“You’ve said.. And I don’t forgive you Ian.. You know I am still mad at you.” There’s silence from him. You bite your quivering lip, pushing back a sob, thinking he must be feeling the same. “I-” You huff out, collecting yourself before you continue. “I’m trying to move on.” You say, a little sad hearing yourself say it.

“You’re- You’re what...” you can hear his heart break more in his voice, and you might’ve felt it just a bit yourself. “You’re not,, with someone right? Because… I am trying. I am going to fix this… And-” You cut him off

“Ian... Its not your problem whether I am with someone or not… We aren’t… We are not us anymore. So- what I do isn’t any concern for you...” You speak in a soft frustrated tone, you try to give him patience especially since you’ve trapped yourself into this conversation.

“But... can't it? Be, my problem? I-I need to make this up to you… You’re… All I’ve had since we were little- and… We’ve been through so much I- and I know this is my fault- and I need to fix this. Please. Let me fix this… Fix us…” he begged, and somewhere in you, you could feel the need to let him, to just give him the time to “fix” what he did, just so you could have him back. So you could feel less lonely. But no, you wouldn’t be able to handle it if he cheated on you again.

Breaking up with Ian was just as big of a loss for you as it was for him. You both lost someone you never thought you would. And God you had loved him. And who knows, maybe you still did, just a little. He took your silence as an urge for him to continue making his case. “I know I can make it up to you... I promise... I miss you so much- I-I want you so badly. And- I’ll be there soon to show you that what I’m saying is true '' he ends his statement with a happy hum, almost proud. You couldn’t take it anymore, you could hear customers in the front of the clowny yogurt shop come in, chatting modestly among themselves

“Goodbye... Ian.” you say, colder than you would’ve thought you could. You hung up before he could beg you to stay and talk to him more. You take a few slow calming breaths and turn to leave, noticing Jack standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Jack…” you mutter to yourself, afraid he might’ve overheard the call. He looks to you with a concerned kindness, one that he tends to give you whenever you notice Ian called you and left another message. You look away from Jack and walk quickly past him into the store, slapping on your customer service face and attitude.

Greeting the group of boys mulling in the front of the store. They seem preoccupied going through the yogurt flavors, which unfortunately gives you the time to think through things again. Your mind drifts, thinking of memories of Ian, clearer now than they had been that morning. One memory in particular, it was how he had looked when you kicked him out after finding out he had cheated on you. After running that memory in your mind a few times the memory of meeting Jack slowly started playing too. It hadn’t been long after Ian had left either, and you still weren’t completely sure where he came from. If he was a hallucination, could it have been your loneliness that made you imagine this pretty clown man to befriend you? Maybe that was why he was so attached to you? But, Jack certainly felt real, everytime he touched you, it felt real and so very safe. Maybe you did want him? Your thoughts were broken by a shy dark haired boy who stood in front of you. He couldn’t have been much younger than you, and he sported a gray and black shirt with a large black coat.

“We’re ready- to uh- pay- whenever you are?” he seemed nervous, a light blush spreading over his cheeks as he looked away from you, shifting nervously on his feet. One of the guys in the group set down the last of the three yogurt cups onto the scale, and you finish up their transaction. As two of the three guys start to leave the guy in the dark clothing lingers, glancing slyly at you, trying not to stare but also seeming to also want to admire you. “So- uh- you- work here often?” His blush deepens and he looks away again, clearly embarrassed. You can't help but be confused, annoyed and a little humored by his awkwardness.

“Yeah- unfortunately” you reply, attempting to give a light hearted air to your words.

“C-cool- Cool.” he pushes out, almost relieved you didn't call him an idiot. He seems at a loss for words now too, wanting to continue the conversation but feeling too awkward. He makes small noises before he takes his frozen yogurt and walks out. Once he’s gone you give a sigh and a light smile lingers on your face as you think about how silly that interaction was.

The rain continues to pound outside and your day drones on uneventfully and lacking any customers. Soon enough it was time to close and you did so quickly and happily. By the time you were finished with your last sweep you almost skipped out of the store. Jack smiled softly to you as you locked the door, him holding your umbrella once again. Once you were ready you turned around and the pair of you quietly walked home. He nudges you again about half way through the walk, his familiar gentle motion to let you know he was still around.

Once home you quickly kick off your shoes and flop onto your couch with a heavy sigh. You relax with your eyes closed and a gentle sigh. God you needed this seat.

“Hey.. sunshine?” Jack's soft cooing voice sang as you felt his weight and warmth settle in next to you. “Can I ask- who’s Ian..?” he asked softly. You rolled your head up to look at Jack.

“He’s..” Your gaze falls away from the kind caring clown. “An ex..” You gently hug yourself as you feel yourself become warm from all your emotions washing through you. You wanted to talk about him with Jack. You wanted to get it out. You haven’t really told anyone about what happened. Jack wraps a comforting arm around you after seeing you close in on yourself. His other hand rests on your arms, encouraging you to open up. You swallow your emotion like its pill stuck in your throat, then you continue. “He was all I had since we were kids.. Best friends forever- least we were supposed to be..” You felt your lips gently quiver before shaking your head to try to push it away. “and,, as we had gotten older we became something.. More. I don't think we ever officially labeled it- but we both had the mutual understanding that- we were who the other wanted for,, forever..” You huff softly as you feel the sadness hit you harder than before and Jack pulls you into him. He hugs you just to let you know he’s listening and understanding, to let you know you’re safe.

“So why does it seem like you’re so upset with him.. if you,,” he lingers before continuing “if you.. love him” that question hung in the air for a while. After you don’t respond for a while Jack gently leads your head to look up to him. “I’m sorry if that was too much, sunspot. If you can’t-” You shake your head softly, almost nuzzling into his hand.

“No- no it’s okay Jack,,” you mumble while looking up to him with sad eyes. “Ian.. cheated on me..” You mutter before turning away, almost ashamed to admit it. He pulls you back, running his thumb over your cheek to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers sweetly to you. He was making you feel so cared for and safe and you craved every touch he gave.

“And…” you felt your eyes slowly start to water. “He was all I had for so long... that when I made him leave I… became so very lonely.” You almost whimper to Jack, trying your best not to cry as you spoke. “I miss him so much Jack...” you whisper as you hide your watery eyes against his hand. “Then you came and you were so safe and I'm afraid I don’t feel genuine enough- like I should for you… or if I just feel these things for you because I can’t for Ian.” Tears pour from your eyes as you bite your lip, your voice and body shaking as you fight back sobs. Jack kindly rubs your back and swipes away the tears running down your cheeks.

“And because of that- I'm- afraid I make myself more lonely by pushing you away because I- don't wanna hurt you…but I still probably do hurt you..” You shake your head looking away and leaning against Jack's chest. He softly shushes you and hugs you tightly as you gently sob into him. “And you're so open, and honest, and kind and I don’t know if I’m completely able to feel all of this emotion as much as I want to- just… feel you hold me like this” you whimper as you cling against Jack, gripping his shirt tightly in your hands.

“It’s okay... I’ll be here for you however you need me… always” he promises you, resting his cheek against the top of your head and gently nuzzling. “You don’t have to tell me what you don’t feel you can,, you don’t have to do anything- feel anything you don’t want to feel.” He gives you a firm squeeze as you slowly calm down “You’re perfect…you didn’t deserve what they did to you- but it's okay to feel bad… or even miss them...” His words are like honey, slowly creeping into all your painful thoughts and soothing them, lessening their raw, burning pain. Being heard, letting it out, had helped tremendously. Especially with how Jack was holding you, close and warm.

“I’m sorry...” You murmur, feeling Jack’s hand on your back slowing. “I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you,, or disappointed you or burdened you or- '' Jack sits up and grabs your face gently. Holding you on either side with his hands, making you look him in the eye.

“None of that sunspot.” He said firmly, his eyes full of nothing but determined care. “You. Are. Perfect.” he says again “You are so amazing- Please never say any of that again” he demanded, his thumb running over your cheek. You look at him with adoration and understanding. You were so close. You nod softly and nuzzle into his hands, soaking up his sweet comforting warmth.

“Jack...” you whisper before looking up to him again with your eyes lingering on his lips. Before you know it, your body draws itself into Jack’s more and your lips find their way to pressing up against his. You feel him push back against your kiss, his hands holding you firm against him. You reach up and gently take one of his hands to lace your fingers together. You felt so overwhelmed with love at that moment. You didn’t want to pull away, but you felt Jack’s lips slowly retreat. You open your eyes and spot Jack’s deep red cheeks and fond eyes looking at you.

“I'm so glad you’re feeling better sunshine.” He says sweetly, and you instinctively nuzzle into the hand against your cheek, turning your head and gently giving it a kiss. That only seems to fluster Jack more. He pulls you against him again, similar to how the pair of you were seated earlier that morning, but this time you didn’t hesitate to kiss Jack as soon as you were situated. The pair of you layed there, trading soft and passionate pecks. Jack occasionally whispers loving praises to you, and soon, you fall asleep in exhaustion against his chest.

[arvandus]

The Divine

Barbatos (Obey Me!) x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ content! Minors DNI and DO NOT follow my blog! All minor and ageless blogs will be blocked! Fem!Reader (dress, heels, fem-coded terms of endearment, etc.), AFAB!Reader, short-coded reader (but Barb's a demon so we can say "magic!" and just suspend disbelief; aka let's pretend they can adjust their own height if they want); friends to lovers, romance, hurt/comfort, first date, lots and lots of talking, first kiss and first (and second) time together (aww yissss), questionable uses for a tail, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), clit stim, shared bath, reader goes pee (is this an issue for people...? practice good sex hygiene, peeps!), reader gets carried (he got that demon strength, babyyy), rough(ish) sex (did I mention demon strength??). UHHH I think that's it. This is long as hell, almost 15k GOOD LUCK BYE.

Author's Note: This is my submission for The Coffee Corner's "Slice of Life" Collab Event! There are so many amazing writers, please go check it out and see if there's anything that piques your interest!

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The opera house was filling up quickly, hundreds of demons taking their seats.  Barbatos was calm and efficient in finding yours amongst the bustling of busy bodies.  They were excellent seats, to be expected from Lord Diavolo’s butler who prided himself on his perfection.  Not too close, not too far, and located central enough without having to climb over multiple sets of legs if you needed to step away at all during the performance.

Barbatos helped you to your seat first, his hand gently placed on your lower back, before sitting down next to you. 

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

You nodded with a smile.  “Very much so, thank you.”

You normally weren’t so formal with him.  After all, you’d known each other for more than a year during your time here in the Devildom and been on many outings together as acquaintances and later as friends.  But there had always been a wall in place, a boundary that was never crossed nor spoken of. 

Barbatos was kind, polite, and witty; he was caring and doting, a perfectionist, and by far one of the most mature demons you’d had the pleasure of getting to know.  However, despite all of that, Barbatos was also a private individual, even when he freely provided facts about himself and his interests, and was forthcoming with his motivations.  No matter how much he exposed, there always seemed to be far more lurking beneath the surface that was left unsaid.  Add in the fact that he took his job as Lord Diavolo’s private butler so seriously, and it sometimes made it difficult to distinguish his acts of kindness as obligation versus personal desire.  No matter how kind or sweet his words were, no matter how close you felt with him at any given moment, you were always, always aware that he kept himself at a distance.  It made your own affections for him feel one-sided, a heavy gift you held in shaky hands with nowhere to put it.

You’d always had the keen sense that he knew, of course; you weren’t exactly good at hiding it.  But he’d never acknowledged it, at least not out-right; even though you could have sworn there were times where you felt his eyes on you when you weren’t looking, or moments where he held your gaze for longer than necessary.  But each time, you’d written it off as wishful thinking, your heart desperately looking for patterns within the random coincidences of life.

But now, things were different.  They had been, ever since that moment he’d plucked that leaf out of your hair with soft affection in his eyes, followed by a quick stolen glance at your parted, stunned lips.  It was all the evidence you needed, and all the evidence that you’d likely get, to know that Barbatos was harboring a flame of his own.  After all, you’d only seen it because he’d let you see it.  You had acted on it immediately, the invitation to dinner tumbling from your lips in place of a confession.  He had accepted with a smile, and you could still feel the elation weaved into your chest like a keepsake as you revisited the memory.

You were yanked from the heart-pounding past to the nerve-wracking present when Barbatos’s fingers intertwined with yours.  Your pulse quickened at the contact. The touch of his skin against yours was so intimate and new, that it felt foreign and strangely forbidden.

“I’m glad you were able to join me,” he said.  “I apologize that the invitation was so last minute. There were... complications.”

You gave a small, teasing laugh, more to trick your own nerves than anything else.  “You act as if we haven’t gone out together before. And I don’t mind last minute; spontaneity keeps things fun.”

Your words felt like lies, a feigned nonchalance in the face of what was so obviously a shift in your relationship with each other, a testing of deeper waters.

“True,” he said.  “But this time is different, isn’t it?”

It was so like him to say outright what was already in your mind. Yet he always managed to do it with such simplicity that it stripped away the anxiety while still leaving the importance.  You swallowed the dryness in your throat and gave a small nod.

He was correct, of course... this - whatever it was – was still very much new for the both of you.

“Besides,” he continued, his lips curving playfully, “it has been some time since we’ve had the pleasure of each other’s company.”

“Four weeks,” you blurted out. Then you clamped your lips shut in embarrassment.

He gave a soft laugh.  “Three weeks and six days, to be exact.”

You gave him a surprised glance.  “But who’s counting?” you teased.

Barbatos smiled. “I often find myself counting the time when we are apart.”

Your body grew hot at his confession, his words vibrating against your skin as they buried themselves into you, becoming a part of you.  No doubt you will be reflecting on that single line for days to come.

Barbatos watched the change in your expression with intrigue.

“However, it is hardly our fault, is it not?” he continued.  “The brothers have been keeping you plenty busy I hear, and the young master requires constant supervision to keep him from chasing his flights of fancy.”

It always amused you when Barbatos referred to the massive, muscular Prince as ‘young;’ it reminded you time and time again how ancient Barbatos really was.  He sounded like a tired uncle reigning in a toddler, and looked the part too, his eyes tired as he watched other demons pass by to take their seats.

“Speaking of Lord Diavolo,” you chimed, “wasn’t he the one who was supposed to join you for this?”

Barbatos returned his eyes to you, only to be met by a narrowed, mischievous gaze and grinning lips.  Barbatos’s smile reappeared deeper than before.

“Something tells me that he intentionally had me set this up and then abandoned it at the last minute in order to allow us this opportunity,” he confessed.

“How very generous of him,” you whispered as you bumped your shoulder against his playfully.

Barbatos drew his thumb over the soft pad of your hand where your thumb and finger joined.  The sensitive nerves tingled, sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Yes,” he agreed as his emerald eyes stared into yours. “Very generous.”

You leaned towards him slightly, your own thumb drawing along his hand in return, as your voice dropped to a whisper.  “It would be in ill taste if we did not maximize this opportunity that he’s provided.”

“Ill taste indeed,” he muttered as he glanced down at your lips.  His gaze lingered there for one heartbeat, two.  Just long enough to get you leaning slightly closer in hopeful anticipation.  Then he broke his gaze and stared ahead. “Lets us fully enjoy this performance then,” he stated.

You stared at him, mildly stunned by his reservedness, until you noticed the slightest hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

He was toying with you.  On purpose.

Your lips turned downward into a pout and you gave a humph as you leaned back in your chair.  Beneath the hum of the audience settling in, you heard the faintest hint of a quiet chuckle in his chest.

You still had yet to kiss him.  The first date was very nice and sweet, a simple dinner at a restaurant you knew you both enjoyed.  You had wanted to keep the first date familiar and unassuming, to allow for the possibility that you’d been wrong, that he’d taken your invitation as a dinner between friends rather than love interests.  It wasn’t long before that worry was eliminated by the touch of his hand over yours at the table, followed by a long swipe of his thumb over your knuckles.

But of course, the private moment was short-lived, because wherever you were, a brother wasn’t far behind.  It was Asmo this time who’d spotted you, miffed at the realization that you were out with someone other than him, and looking dolled up to boot.  Which then, of course, led to him inviting himself to your very obvious one-on-one with Barbatos.  The demon had given you a look to silently inquire if such behavior was acceptable, and you were too kindhearted to give Asmo the boot, so you surrendered, folding like a deck of cards.

The regret and guilt still sat heavy on your mind.  You should have been firmer, set some boundaries. But boundary setting was always difficult when the brothers were involved.

Barbatos would have been able to do it; the look that he’d given you had made that clear enough.  He was a kind demon, yet firm if he needed to be.  And you had a keen sense that you never wanted to get on his bad side.  But he’d taken the intrusion gracefully, and parted ways later that evening without a hint of disappointment or disapproval.

Even so, you’d assumed you’d botched any future opportunities at a second date with him.  Sure, he may not have expressed disappointment in the moment, but you knew he was a master at disguising his true feelings when he wanted to.  So, it had taken you by surprise when he had texted you that he’d enjoyed himself and wanted to try again, albeit something that could be either more structured, or more private to prevent future interruptions.

It had taken far longer than expected to follow through, to the point that you’d almost lost hope.  But finally, here you sat with the apple of your eye looking delicious and refined in his black tuxedo, while you donned a simple strapped gown of your own.  The lights above dimmed, indicating the performance would be starting soon, as the orchestra completed the final checks on their instruments, ensuring everything was in tune.

Barbatos’s hand continued to hold yours, the action feeling almost possessive in nature, a warning to any who might see the two of you together.  A part of you wondered if any of the brothers had managed to sneak their way in and were watching from a distance, and if so, did Barbatos know.  There was no way to know for certain.  Either way, if they were out there somewhere, they couldn’t reach you now, not without causing a scene.

Now your seats made more sense. You had wondered why you weren’t located in one of the more private balcony boxes above; it certainly seemed like a place Barbatos would have preferred.  And had he come with Diavolo like originally intended, he very well might have.  You certainly couldn’t have the Lord of the Devildom sitting amongst the masses.

Which means Barbatos likely figured out a way to change the seating arrangement as soon as he learned of Diavolo’s little scheme.  This was clearly by design, a way to ensure your second date would not be interrupted like the first.  You let out a relaxed breath and reclined against the back of your seat as you prepared yourself to become immersed in the opera.

The lights overhead went black, leaving only the stage washed in a white glow.

“Y/N...” Barbatos started, his eyes on you.  “There’s something you should know about this performance...”

“Hm?” you replied distractedly with barely a glance.

But then the orchestral music began, and you shushed him with a pat on his arm.  Barbatos’s words died on his tongue, as his hand tightened around yours. 

The music started strong and then fell like cascading water into a flurry of notes.  You watched as the music played, as the singers entered the scene.

You had expected English, or one of the romance languages that you often associated with opera, or even an older, biblical language such as Hebrew. But instead, the language was like nothing you’d ever heard, notes sung in such a way that it felt entirely inhuman and beyond the realm of possibility.  You stared, bewildered, unable to understand any of it, even as the earth-shattering beauty of it crashed over you. There were no screens with subtitles framing the stage, no form of translation at all.  There was nothing; just your eyes and the music to try to decipher the story that was unfolding.  It was clear it had to do with angels and demons, and that there was a forbidden love story between them, which, you could deduce would lead to conflict.  But the details were lost as soon as they had opened their mouths.

Barbatos watched you in silent observation as your emotions transformed and danced across your face from confusion, to wonder, to awe, to fear, and back again.

His hand squeezed yours, a tether keeping you from losing yourself in the panic of your mortal brain trying to make sense of something beyond its understanding.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, his tone laced with concern. Your wide eyes shot over to him; it took a moment for recognition to register in your gaze.

“Y-Yeah.  But I don’t understand them at all. What language is this??”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he replied. He watched and waited for your brain to process.

“...wait.  What?”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he repeated.  “The language of God, spoken by angels and demons. It’s no surprise you don’t understand it, you’re not meant to unless it’s directly intended for you.”

You didn’t know how to put into words that it felt like you simultaneously understood yet didn’t. The language didn’t sound like words, and yet it left imprints upon you, feelings and emotions stamped upon your soul that you could only vaguely understand.

Barbatos continued as you stared back at the stage in shock.  “Many of the operas composed here are done so in the Divine Language as it withholds the purest meaning and form, and the notes cannot be duplicated in mortal speech.  Had I known you were joining me tonight instead of the young master, I might have selected a more appropriate performance.”

He watched you as you grimaced against a particularly moving crescendo.

“Why does it feel like it’s in my head?” you whispered.

“Because it is,” he whispered back.  “You are fortunate that you have Angelic ancestry in you.”

You gave him a confused look.  “Why?”

“Because if you didn’t, you’d be bleeding out your ears.”

“What??” your voice raised in panic, and multiple demons seated near you shushed you.  You lowered your voice again, but the panic was still there.  “Barbatos!”

Barbatos gave a quiet chuckle as he pulled something small from his pocket.  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.  Just put these in your ears. It will lessen the impact.”

You took the small black box from his hand and opened it to see a set of ear plugs.  You wasted no time in putting them in.  Immediately, the panic and chaos you felt eased, the thrumming reduced to a hum.

“Why didn’t you give me these earlier?  A warning would have been nice,” you quietly seethed.

Barbatos almost rebutted that he’d tried when the lights went down, but decided against it when he saw you fold your hands protectively in your lap.  You were angry.  He gently pried your hands apart gently with his and twined his fingers with yours in a soft hold. You didn’t fight him, but you didn’t look at him either.

“I promise you weren’t in any danger,” he whispered close to your ear.  “I would not have brought you here if it wasn’t safe.”

Your body remained stiff, but you finally looked at him.  “It felt intentional,” you replied.  “Like it’s something Diavolo would have you do to test me.  Tell me, Barbatos... are you here for work or pleasure?”

Surprise flashed across his face, followed by the return of his gentle smile.  He leaned even closer to your ear until his lips ghosted over your pinna. “Pleasure,” he whispered, his voice low.  His hand squeezed yours reassuringly.  “Definitely pleasure. I assure you there were no ulterior motives.”

The way his voice alone nearly unraveled you... your thighs tightened against their impact and you swallowed as you stared ahead at the stage, struggling to follow the story that you were missing.

But you could be horny and angry at the same time.  You set your jaw stubbornly.

“You swear?” you asked as you kept your eyes on the stage.

He took your chin in his hand and turned your face to look at him, his expression serious. 

“I swear,” he replied.

Then he placed as soft brush of lips to your forehead. It stole your breath as a shiver passed through every nerve.

Your anger finally dimmed, soothed by the genuineness of his words and the reassurance of his affection. Your fingers finally closed around his in reciprocity, and Barbatos returned his green eyes to the stage.

A long moment passed as you both watched the performance.  The impact of the Divine Language continued to wash over you, dragging vague meaningful pictures to your mind as your emotions danced like puppets.  The earplugs helped, keeping you from feeling like your head was splitting open.  But you still felt lost in it, carried away on a foreign tide.

Barbatos noticed.  He leaned close and whispered.  “Would you like me to translate for you?”

His breath tickled your ear and your chest tightened as your heart tried to grow wings and escape.  You angled your head to him slightly; your eyes breaking from the stage briefly. 

“Please,” you whispered.

And so, he quietly summarized the plot and dialogue into your ear as his eyes watched.  The male and female lead sang to each other, their voices rich with emotion, their body language communicating their love.

“They are of two different worlds,” he explained.  “Yet they love each other unequivocally.”

You smiled softly. “Romantic...”

“Very,” he agreed.  “She is expressing worry that heaven will cast her out for falling for him.  And he is promising to never leave her.”

The music rose in crescendo.  It filled you, and your chest tightened like a balloon about to burst. You took deep breaths to allow the sensations to pass through you.

You had anticipated appreciating the music, being impressed by the vocal gymnastics.  But this was proving to be so much more, a visceral experience that would leave you reeling by the time it was over.

As you watched, Barbatos continued to translate.  The angel was cast out as predicted and was cursed to walk the earth and live her life as a human.  This allowed them to continue their romance without judgment and they rejoiced.  But shortly after, things took a turn for the worst, as they often did in operas.

“She’s sick...” you commented quietly as you watched the performance.

Barbatos glanced at you briefly from the corner of his eye.  “She’s mortal.”

Something inside your chest twisted, a stirring of something heavy that you’d been struggling to ignore ever since you committed to staying in the Devildom.  You tried to push it back down, to watch the story continue.

But maybe it was the way that it hit too close to home; or maybe it was the way the Divine Language seemed to invade every crevice of you like a living thing, forcing your body to experience something beyond what it was built for.  Either way, it brought forth every worry, every fear that plagued you late at night when you were alone in your bed. It was the way the loneliness that you struggled to ignore within yourself began to gain weight, a black hole pulling you into its relentless gravity.  It was the type of loneliness that came with the sense of otherness, of being separate; the awareness of being where one did not truly belong no matter how badly you wanted to.

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you stared at Barbatos’s hand holding your own.  Suddenly, this – all of this – felt foolish.  So foolish.  What were you doing, going on a date with a demon?  Allowing yourself to open your heart for someone who would outlive you ten times over? The time would be gone in a blink, your mortal life small and insignificant.

Your tear-rimmed eyes looked back to the stage.  You watched as the female lead died, succumbing to her illness, and her partner mourned her.

Would Barbatos mourn you in such a way? Would he watch you grow old and feeble while he stayed young and flawless?  Did demons and angels even love the same way that humans did? How much could one human life really matter anyway, to someone who was essentially immortal? You were a blip in his life, a small blink of time that would come and go, a nice little hobby to pass the time.  Whereas for you, he would be your entire world, your entire life if things panned out the way your foolish heart hoped they would.

Because there was no one else you wanted.  No one else that even came close.

The thoughts shook you to your core until it felt as if you were being split in two, a great chasm running right down the center of you between what your heart longed for and what your head knew to be true. It made you begin the grieving process of what you would inevitably lose before you’d ever had a chance to even have it.  The pain was a wild beast in your chest, threatening to break free, to rip open your rib cage and let your heart bleed out in front of everyone.  You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream.

You wanted to leave.

You unlatched your hand from Barbatos’s, avoiding his eyes as you grabbed your purse from the floor.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “Excuse me...”

You made your way past the few seated individuals that blocked you from the aisle. As soon as you’d freed yourself, you walked quickly towards the exit, a race against time between the sobs in your throat that were rising to the back of your tongue and your proximity to the door.

You crossed the threshold with your hand over your mouth.  Already, you felt the wet tears sliding down your cheeks, your makeup effectively ruined.

And so was your date, you were certain.  The way you’d bolted from Barbatos without a second thought, without explanation... If you hadn’t offended him before on your first date, then you certainly did now.

You removed the earplugs from your ears and stuffed them into your purse.

You could still hear the music, could still hear the anguish in the male demon’s notes as he mourned the loss of his love.  Even from here, the Divine Language found you, gripped you, choked you.  You practically ran out of the opera house into the cold, wet evening of the devildom, and with it came silence – blessed, sweet silence.  A soft rain was falling, coating everything until it shined wet.

You quietly walked out from the covered entryway, past the great pillars that held up the grand architecture.  You turned your face up to the sky with closed eyes and let the water mist your skin.  Then you sat down on the steps and put your head in your arms and cried.

It wasn’t long before you heard the familiar soft steps of Barbatos’s polished black shoes on the wet stone.  A moment later, the rain above you stopped and the sound of pitter-pattering on fabric met your ears.  Still, you didn’t look up, your shame too heavy to lift your head.

You felt the presence of him, felt him as he circled around to your front.  You peeked through your arms just in time to see him kneel in front of you on the steps.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed through sniffles.

“What happened?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t know, I just...”

More tears welled up as your words caught in your throat.  You wiped at your eyes in an attempt to make them stop, but more took their place.  Barbatos took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to you.  You took it and held it in your hands, your fingers rubbing across the soft silk.

“Did you not like the performance?” he asked, his tone laced with worry.  “Perhaps the earplugs were not enough.”

You couldn’t help but give a sad, soft laugh. “No, I did.  I did like it. It’s just...”

Again, your words faltered.  Why was it so difficult to say? It was as if the emotions you felt were too large, unable to fit into the neat little boxes that human language provided.  If only you could speak the language of angels and demons...

“Barbatos...” you started softly, “why did you ask me out?”

His veridian eyes widened slightly in surprise.  “You mean to the opera?”

“No, I mean ask me out.  On a date.”

His gaze softened, although the confusion in them remained.  “Because I care for you. I had thought that years of mutual pining and silent eye contact every time we were in the same room together made that obvious.”

You half chuckled.  It wasn’t as obvious as he thought it was...

He tilted his head slightly, and he wasn’t quite quick enough to hide the sadness that flitted across his face.

“Do you not feel the same?” he asked.  “Perhaps I have misunderstood-“

“No! No, that’s not it,” you protested, your hands reaching out to grasp his.

Not that.  Anything but that...

You kept his free hand in yours, your fingers following his knuckles from one finger to the next. 

“What I mean is, why me?”

Barbatos’s fingers wrapped around your own.  “Why not you?”

“Because. I’m mortal.” Your voice cracked, and Barbatos straightened slightly.

“Ah. I see.”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m making a mistake.  Like I’m not supposed to feel this way.”

“Feel what way?”

More tears fell from your lashes as a sob escaped your throat.  “Happy.”

You released your hold on him and buried your face in your hands.

Barbatos touched your arm, his fingers wrapping around it gently.  You felt the rain suddenly return followed immediately by the sound of the umbrella touching the stone steps. You looked at it slightly confused, just in time for Barbatos’s other hand to take your chin and tilt your face up until you were looking at him.

“And why shouldn’t you be happy?” he asked.

You stared at him, watching as his hair flattened in the rain, running rivulets down his pale skin.

“Because my time here will be so brief compared to you, to everyone.  I’ll keep changing and grow old, and you’ll all stay the same.”

Barbatos stared at you for a long moment, his expression soft yet neutral.  He cocked his head slightly and released your arm to wipe your wet hair from your face before trailing his fingers along your cheek to your jaw line.

“What makes you think your longevity will be brief?”

You furrowed your brow.  “Because I’m human...?”

“So is Solomon...”

He had a point there. But...

“But Solomon is a powerful sorcerer.”

“And you’re not?”

“Not like him... I’m just barely beginning to grasp the things he’s teaching me.”

“Do not mistake knowledge for power,” Barbatos said.

“I thought knowledge was power,” you teased, the first hint of a smile on your lips.

Barbatos smirked at your cheekiness. “I stand corrected.  However, the point I’m trying to make is this: your power is your own and always will be. And trust me when I say that your power is vast.  Already you’ve been able to wield it in ways that Solomon could only dream.  All that you require now is the knowledge, and that will come with time.”

“But my time is limited.”

“So it is for all of us, one way or another,” Barbatos replied.  “Do not let a little thing called Time stop you.  You will have plenty enough of it to figure out how to bend its effects to your will just as Solomon has.”

“Is that what your visions of the future show you?” you teased.

Barbatos’s soft smile tightened slightly. “I don’t know. I don’t look into the future unless Lord Diavolo instructs me to.  But even if I could, I wouldn’t look at yours.”

Your brows furrowed.  “Why not?”

Barbatos stared down at the ground, his lashes hiding his eyes. “Because no good could come of it.  Despite my age, I am not immune to the impact of loss. And witnessing the loss of you in the future would only taint what time I have with you in the present.”

A silence fell between you as you thought upon his words.  They brought a warmth into your chest at the realization of how much you meant to him.  And yet... it only made your concerns feel that much more valid.

You didn’t want to hurt him. Not in the present, and not in the future.  Even if it was due to circumstances beyond your control.

“What if... what if I can’t do what Solomon does? What if I can’t figure it all out? The lifespan of a human seems so short...”

Barbatos looked back up at you, a sad smile on his lips.

“If your time is to be so short, then perhaps it is best to enjoy the time that you do have, freely without the burden of guilt.  You deserve happiness, in whatever way you can find it. Don’t let your fears taint what your heart wants.”  His hand found yours, and he stared at it as his thumb brushed over your fingers. “And... if I may be a little bit selfish... let me have this time with you now, if you’ll have me. I will feel your absence regardless, and I’d rather be able to look upon the past with fondness instead of regret.”

“Barbatos...” you whispered.   Your hand came up and brushed his long locks back, tucking them behind his left ear.  “Of course I’ll have you.”

He smiled softly at you.  “Nothing pleases me more.”

A thought still bothered you though, a question itching at the back of your mind, springing up more worry.  It made your gaze distant, distracted.

“Barbatos... what happened at the end of the story?” you asked.

“Hm? You mean the opera?” he replied.  You nodded.  His smile grew.  “When the female lead dies, her soul is unable to ascend to heaven due to being cast out. So, there is only one place left for her to go.”

Your eyes widened.  “She went to hell.  She got to be with him in the end.”

Barbatos’s smile filled his face, his eyes crinkling and perfect white teeth showing.  He was so beautiful it made your chest ache.  “She did.”

Your gaze became distant again with thought.  “When I die.... where do you think I’ll go?”

“Hmmm,” Barbatos pondered, his fingers on his chin.  “Well, to be honest, it’s anyone’s guess.  Although as the keeper of the Seven Deadly Sins, it may tip the scales more in favor of here.  Relations between heaven and hell have been improving, but there are still rules that must be followed. And any who support demons usually end up coming here.”

“Wait, so I’m going to go to hell??” you said indignantly as mirth danced in your eyes.

Barbatos grinned.  “As if I’d ever let my girl go to such a place.  No, I would bring you here to the Devildom.”

Your body flushed hot at his words.  “Your girl...”

Barbatos took your chin in his fingers, his thumb brushing against your lower lip gently. “My girl,” he affirmed.

Then he leaned forward and kissed you, his lips cool and soft against yours in the cold of night. You leaned into it, your hands coming up instinctually to cup his chilled face as you reciprocated his affection.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, before returning for a second kiss, his lips firmer, warmer.  You opened your mouth to him, every part of you aching for more of him until he filled you, surrounded you, until your head couldn’t think anymore and all that mattered was him, you, this moment.  Barbatos’s grip on you tightened as his warm tongue found yours, tasting you, claiming you.

He pulled away just a fraction again, his eyes shining as the bony wings framing his head flickered and vanished.  His grip on you was strong, one hand holding you by the curve of your jawline, and the other gripping your waist.  You had the keen sense that in that moment, he was torn between behaving like the gentleman he felt you deserved, versus taking you right there on the cold, wet steps in the empty street.

The evidence of Barbatos’s desire for you shocked you.  He was always so reserved, so in control, that seeing him grapple with his lesser instincts because of you made your own instincts want to respond in kind, to lure him out of his carefully crafted persona.  You’d been so starved for his affection for so long, that now even the smallest crumbs of his desire felt like a feast.

But of course, his reason won out.  Slowly he stood, his hand holding yours as he helped you to your feet.

“Perhaps we should get you home,” he stated, even as his eyes remained locked on your lips.

Numb with need, your body buzzing, you nodded silently.

Barbatos picked up the umbrella and shook the water off it before placing it over the two of you.  Then he offered his arm and you hooked yours with his as he led you to the car.

The ride back was silent, although you continued to hold his hand in your lap for the entire duration.  The drive felt far too short for your liking. A sense of dread filled the pit in your stomach as the House of Lamentation came into view and it didn’t leave even as Barbatos released your hand with a kiss and exited the vehicle to open your door for you.  You took his offered hand and stepped out, your gaze locked on the many windows that stared back like countless eyes. You could feel them on your back as you turned around at the gate to face Barbatos to begin your goodnights.

Barbatos could sense your unease. 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just... I don’t think I’m ready to go in yet. I’d like to spend more time with you.” Your eyes were downcast bashfully as you stared at the buttons of his white shirt, the black bow tie at his neck.

He gave a gentle laugh.  “I don’t want the night to end either.  It is far too early to be saying goodbye.  Where would you like to go?”

You glanced up at him as you felt heat roll across your body, the memory of your kiss still fresh in your mind.  “Some place quiet... and private.”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment as he stared down at you.  “I know just the place,” he finally said.

He led you back to the car, and with a final glance back at the mansion, you sat down in the passenger seat. He closed your door, and soon you were on the road again.  It wasn’t long before he pulled the car up through the lavish, scroll-decorated iron gates of Lord Diavolo’s castle.  Your eyes widened in slight surprise.

“Here?”

Barbatos glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You said you wanted private.  This is the only place I can guarantee for sure that no one else will find you.”

“I would have thought it’d be the first place they’d look,” you replied as you stared up at the great, towering spires.

“Oh, they most certainly will.  But as you know, the castle in vast, with many rooms and dangers.  And there is one room they will never be able to enter without explicit invitation.”

You gave him a questioning look.

“Mine,” he stated with a small smirk.

A giddy dizziness clouded your mind as he got out of the car and came around to assist you.

As you stepped out, he continued.  “Due to the dangerous nature of my room, there are many wards and spells that keep unwelcome guests from entering.  You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like, and then I will take you home when you’re ready.”

You realized Barbatos was referring to the many doors that led to infinite pasts and futures.

“I’ve been to your room before; I don’t recall it being very... comfortable,” you confessed.

Barbatos laughed as he led you up the steps. “That’s because you only entered the part I wanted you to enter. My personal space has far better amenities than just stairs and doors.  Did you think I just hung like a bat from the ceiling while I slept?” he teased.

You chuckled.  “The thought had crossed my mind...”

Up the stairs and down the winding, complex halls he led you, taking sharp turns and walking around blank spaces of floor to avoid hidden dangers.  Finally, you were outside his door.  With his hand holding yours, he opened it to reveal a pristine bedroom with an ornate four post bed with a canopy.  A large fireplace sat to the right, already lit, an ornate rug and sofa sitting in front of it.  There was a sitting area near the tall glass doors that opened onto a balcony with a tea cart close by.  It was simple in its elegance, the room cast in a warm yellow-orangish glow from the fire.  Not a speck of dirt was present, and suddenly you felt very unclean, your dress and hair still wet from earlier.

“May I use your bathroom?” you asked.

“Of course, right through there.” Barbatos motioned to the double doors to the left as he made his way to his tea cart. “I will fix us something to drink.”

You stepped into his bathroom and shut the door. It was incredibly spacious.  Not as grand as Asmo’s of course, but it most certainly had every necessary amenity and then some.  You checked yourself in the mirror and nearly gasped at the state of your makeup and your hair. 

To think he kissed you while you looked like this... twice, in fact.

You did what you could to clean yourself up, removing the washed-out makeup and letting down your hair to run your fingers through the damp strands.  Once there was nothing more you could do, you stepped back out.

The delicious smell of tea was fragrant in the air, carried on the warmth of the fire.  Barbatos had set the tea out on the small round table of the sitting area and turned when you entered.  He was still fully dressed in his wet formal wear, and you realized with amusement that he’d gotten engrossed in ensuring the tea and setup were perfect.  The porcelain cups and saucers were delicate and beautiful, with floral designs and golden rims.  The spoons were made of silver, polished to shine in the firelight.

“Welcome back,” he replied with a smile.

You smiled in return.  “What’s all this?”

“What does it look like? I thought we could talk over a cup of tea, let our bones warm a little,” he replied as he made final touches to the setup, adjusting the napkins ever so slightly, turning the teapot just so.

“Barbatos...” you chided playfully. “Is this Barbatos the demon, or Barbatos the butler?”

He stared at you for a moment, stunned, and then gave an embarrassed laugh. “Haha, I suppose you’re right... old habits, as they say...” His laugh left his eyes and he stared at you.  “I just want you to feel comfortable.  I know we’ve known each other for some time; however, it is only our second date.”

“I am comfortable,” you said softly. “More comfortable than I’ve ever been since I first arrived here.”  You stepped closer towards him until you were less than a foot apart.  “I always feel safe with you, Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled in return, warm and soft as his eyes drank you in.  “You don’t know how much it pleases me to hear you say that.”

You rested your hand against his chest.  “Your coat is still wet,” you commented.

“Yes,” he replied as he began to undo the buttons.  He removed it and you watched as the muscles of his shoulders rolled beneath his white shirt.  He laid it carefully over the back of his chair.  “It will dry by the fire soon enough.”

He began to undo his bowtie, but your hands came up to stop him.

“Please… allow me,” you said softly, even as your heart pounded wildly in your chest.

Barbatos swallowed slightly, but let his hands fall until they found their place on your hips, gentle and unassuming.

Slowly, carefully, you began to undo his tie for him as the air warmed between you with each shaky breath.  Once it was loose, you gently pulled on the black material, watching as it slid along his collar before falling off. 

Your eyes locked with his.

It was enough to make the last of his gentlemanly resolve vanish, and he kissed you, his lips capturing yours needily. The tie fell from your grip to land in a careless pile on the floor as your arms went up around his neck to pull him closer. His hands tightened around you in return, fingers spread wide as they traveled across your back.  The warmth of him, the firmness of his body beneath the soft fabrics of his clothes... it was better than every fantasy you’d ever had, dreams paling beneath the shadow of the very real demon in front of you.

Barbatos’s hands shifted from your body to your jaw, cupping your face in a delicate hold.  Once again you opened your mouth to him, eager to revisit that sinful moment on the steps of the opera house, as your fingers tangled into his hair at the base of his neck.  The strands were soft between your fingers, his tongue sweet with the hint of tea.  He must have tasted it before you emerged from the bathroom earlier, no doubt to ensure its perfection.

But now it sat abandoned as your fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt, starting at the one high on his neck.  As soon as the smooth skin of his chest was exposed, you abandoned your task to run your palms up his chest and back to his neck as you clung tightly to him, your body slotting against his.

He chuckled against your lips as his hands returned to caressing your curves.  “What about the tea?” he teased.

You nibbled on his lip, pulling back with your teeth until it released with a pop, earning a growl from the usually reserved demon.  “No offense, but screw the tea.”

Barbatos’s eyes widened, his eyebrow raising in judgment.  “No offense she says, and yet she wounds me in the same breath.”

You chuckled and planted a kiss on his lips.  “Forgive me… but perhaps we can enjoy it after?”

“After?” Barbatos echoed, his eyebrow raising ever higher as the corner of his mouth curled up. His hands slid from the curve of your back to the plush of your ass and squeezed. “After what exactly? What expectations have you brought with you tonight?”

Your breath hitched at his bold touch, yet your eyes narrowed at his obvious teasing.  Two could play that game.

You widened your eyes innocently.  “Expectations? None.”  You looked at the tea setting. “Perhaps we should enjoy a cup now, before it gets cold…”

You began to disentangle from his hold and turn your body toward the seats, but Barbatos’s strong arm wrapped around your waist, blocking you.  When you turned to look up at him, he was staring down at you with darkened eyes, his smile gone.

“You know… your dress is wet too...” he hummed as he pulled you back against him. 

Checkmate.

Your arms returned around his neck.  “Is it now?”

Barbatos’s hands once again moved along the curve of your back. “Perhaps we should slip you into something more comfortable?”

As he spoke, his fingers gently traced the line of your spine until he reached the top of the zipper.  Slowly he pulled it down, the material relaxing around you, every soft bit of your skin freed from restraint.  His fingers traced back up along your now naked spine as his lips gently brushed yours, the tip of his tongue teasing your mouth open.  It pulled a wanton moan from your throat, a sound that would have made you falter in embarrassment in any other moment... except his touch was far too distracting to care anymore, his chest echoing your own in a low, satisfied hum.  The delicacy of his long, slender fingers skated across your shoulder blades to catch beneath the straps of your dress and slid it off your shoulders. You removed your arms from the falling straps, and Barbatos’s hands helped the dress the rest of the way over your hips until it fell to a puddle around your feet.

He withheld his kisses for a moment to allow his eyes to drink you in from head to toe as his hands followed your silhouette.

“Did you match for me?” he mused as he stared at your matching bra and panties.  “A bit hopeful tonight, were you?” he grinned as he nuzzled your jawline with his nose. “Expectations indeed.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you replied. “And yes, a little bit hopeful...”

His nose continued to follow the curve of your neck then your shoulder as he talked, his breath coating your skin.  “Then I’ll consider this a fortunate turn of events.  I typically don’t expect such intimacy on the second date, but for you I’m more than happy to make an exception.”

Barbatos’s teeth caught on the strap of your bra as his eyes stared over your shoulder to observe the tantalizing view of his hand caressing the curve of your lace-covered ass.  It made your stomach flip, your head spin, and your heat grow between your legs, the slick already building thick within your thin panties.  You were eager; you wanted nothing more than for him to take you right this instant, in any which way.  But Barbatos was the opposite; he took his time and savored.  It was driving you mad.  You shifted your stance just slightly in impatience, the sound of your shoes clicking on the stone floor of his room.

It was enough to catch his attention, to release your bra strap from his pearly white teeth and look down at your heels.  “Hm, perhaps we should remove those shoes of yours...” he smiled against your lips.

Before you could protest, he bent just enough to wrap his arms around your thighs and hoisted you up in his arms, your body pressed against his.  It shocked you how easily he lifted you, as if you weighed practically nothing, his lean muscular figure disguising his demonic strength.

Slowly he walked you back towards his bed as his mouth began to leave kisses in your cleavage, his tongue flicking out occasionally to lick and taste. It made your breaths come out in pants, made your body squirm slightly in his hold, and yet he held you steadily until he reached his destination.

You had thought he would have tossed you onto his bed, following with his body. Or at least that was what you had hoped for.  However, Barbatos always managed to surprise you with the unexpected.  Instead, he set you gently back down on your feet.

“Sit,” he ordered. His tone was soft and not at all overbearing or firm, yet you found yourself following the command instantly.

Then he kneeled before you and gently lifted your left foot. His hands carefully removed your shoe followed by a trail of gentle kisses up your ankle to your calf.  Then he set down your left foot and repeated the action with your right, once again removing the shoe carefully and following it up with kisses.

However, this time, the kisses didn’t stop at your calf. His lips kept traveling.  Past the knee, up the inside of the thigh... your legs parted willingly as your breaths began to quicken, your clit pulsing heavily for him in anticipation.  As he got closer, he pushed your legs wider still, his palm firm against the inside of your knee, and pulled you closer to him until your ass was barely on the edge of his soft, plush mattress.

He paused once he was between your legs, and inhaled through his nose, his eyes closing as if he were savoring a rich, herbal tea.

“I love your scent,” he whispered. 

His eyes opened and you gasped as his green irises glowed, his canines slightly sharper and longer.  The human illusion faded away like a mirage and now you could see the small, bony wings in place of horns, could see the long, double-ended serpentine tail curling and twitching behind him, shining wet.  He still wore his clothes from the evening, his shirt half unbuttoned.

Barbatos watched you with an unreadable gaze.  “Are you afraid?” he asked.

You shook your head vigorously.  “No,” you breathed.  “Just amazed at how beautiful you are.”

Barbatos chuckled, low and deep, ending on a soft hum.  “She says with her legs spread wide for me...” His finger trailed the shape of you through your panties and your body twitched as you bit your lip.  “Trust me when I say you are the beautiful one.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed your core, right on that tight bundle of nerves through the delicate fabric.  You gasped against it, a moan bursting from your chest as you leaned back further, bracing your weight on your hands.  Barbatos’s eyes flashed up at you, brows low and pupils blown wide with lust. He kissed you again, firmer this time.  Again, you whined for him, your thighs tensing as pleasure tickled your nerves from the epicenter of his touch.

On his third return, his tongue flicked out to lick you through the fabric, followed by the press of his lips as his mouth closed over your clit.

You were panting heavily now, your heart pounding against your ribs in desperation.  Again, he licked and kissed.  And again.  Slowly, steadily, with more pressure than before.  His fingers began to stroke your entrance through the fabric, his long fingers drawing up and down.

As his mouth worked you higher and higher through your panties, you felt the warm wetness of his tail wrap itself around your leg and slowly slither up in a spiraling, winding trail.  It was foreign, stimulating, and entirely erotic.  As the tips of his tail reached the height of your inner thigh, they slipped beneath your panties, gliding against your lips and teasing your entrance, causing it to spasm.  Then the tail hooked around the sopping wet fabric and pulled it aside, allowing Barbatos unimpeded access to your cunt as his hands remained firm against the inside of your knees, keeping you spread so wide that the hamstrings of your thighs burned.

“Beautiful...” he murmured as he stared at your pussy with heavy lidded eyes.

Then his mouth was on you, tongue dipping, lips pressing, sucking. You cried out, your head falling back as your back arched.  The arousal tightened, sharpened, until you were sure you would cut yourself on it, bleed out all the desire in a gush. Your breaths grew heavier, faster.  Your hips began to rock, your legs tremble.

But just as you were about to reach your zenith, Barbatos pulled away.

“W-what??” you protested. “Hey!”

Barbatos chuckled as he wiped his shining wet lips with his thumb.  “My apologies. I am not usually one to leave a duty unfinished. However...” his gaze on you grew dark as he stood and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt.  “I made a promise to myself a long time ago.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.  You were still salty he’d stopped, stealing your orgasm from you.  “What promise?”

With his shirt unbuttoned and removed, he began to undo the buckle of his pants.  He pulled the belt from the loops around his waist, then continued to unbutton the top of his slacks.  His pants loosened, sagging to catch on his hips and the hard cock that tented his pants.

You swallowed as you stared at him, your eyes following the curves of his iliac crests, the muscles of his abdomen in soft relief against the firelight.  The soft tuft of dark hair below his navel gave way to the base of his cock, still barely hidden beneath his slacks.

A realization hit you.  Barbatos didn’t wear underwear. No boxers, no briefs, nothing.  Nothing but the thin black fabric of his slacks between his cock and the world.

Your hands reached out, grabbing onto the fabric to tug it down and free him as he watched you with amusement in his eyes.  His cock sprang free, perfect and beautiful.  Your hand wrapped around it, feeling the warmth of it, the smoothness of the skin, the veins that trekked along its sides...

Barbatos’s finger tucked beneath your chin and forced your eyes to look up at him.

“I promised myself,” he continued, “that the first time I make you cum, it’ll be on my cock.”

Your eyes widened and you swallowed. His smirk turned into a devilish grin as he dipped his head down and captured your mouth with his, the scent of you still on his lips.  As his tongue forced its way past your lips, his body invaded you, bearing down on you, forcing you to back further into the bed that smelled entirely of him.

He kissed you hungrily as his hand quickly undid the clasp of your bra before hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down off your legs, the clinging wet strings of arousal stretching and snapping as the material left your throbbing cunt. Then he was over you again, surrounding you, caging you with his body as his thighs pushed your legs open for him, the head of his cock nestled against your entrance.

“Please...” you begged, your body taut with need.

He stared at you, the affection heavy in his gaze and written in the flush of his cheeks like paint on paper.

“You will tell me if it’s too much, yes?” he said softly.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

You hooked your legs around the back of his thighs and pressed, and he obliged, the leaking head of his cock pushing into your wet heat as his lips parted in a silent breath. You inhaled, your ribcage expanding and your back arching as his cock dragged across every awakened nerve within you, causing your walls to clench tightly around his girth.  He was long, and he filled every inch of you and then some, pushing you past your limits as you gasped in a short cry.

Barbatos froze for a moment, concern in his veridian eyes.  But your body quieted, your expression one of bliss rather than pain, and he breathed as he pulled out and entered you again slowly, feeling the way your body greeted him, took him, made a home for him.  Every inch of you was trembling; the air leaving your lungs on shaky breaths, your thighs practically vibrating, your walls fluttering.

Barbatos’s hand cupped your cheek and he pressed his forehead to yours as you looked at him through half-open, lust-blown eyes.

“My pretty girl...” he whispered tenderly.  “My pretty little human.  So fragile, so beautiful.  Look at you, laid out before me, shaking like a leaf.” He pulled out slowly and pushed in again, the muscles of his biceps shaking with restraint.  “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this moment...”

You smiled and gave a breathy laugh that ended in a hitch as he bottomed out in you.  “At least as long as I have, I hope...”

Barbatos smiled against your lips. “Longer,” he promised, followed by a stolen kiss.

But words could only last for as long as you both had focus, and it quickly waned in favor of the pleasure that washed over you with each thrust, your body and mind immersed in the feel of him.  With your body fully acclimated and pliable beneath his touch, his thrusts quickened as speech gave way to sounds of pleasure; of grunts and groans, gasps and pants.

Barbatos’s knowledge of the human body was not to be underestimated. With each dip of his hips, his cock rubbed against your most sensitive parts, each thrust ending in a grind of his groin to roll your swollen, sensitive clit against him.  His hand caressed your body, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers, before sliding down to grip your thigh against him as his mouth devoured yours.

Your body shifted, your breaths quickened, catching in your chest as the arousal swelled, nerves on fire. “Please...” you begged as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.  “Please, I’m so close...”

He sat up, adjusting his angle to allow his cock to press harder against the top of your walls where you were most sensitive.  The change position allowed him the full freedom of his hands, and he took full advantage.  He held your right leg over his shoulder while his other hand drew fast, steady circles over your swollen clit with his thumb.  He quickened his thrusts for you, spurred by your pleas, your confessions of pleasure.  He watched in rapture as your eyes glazed over then widened, as your back arched when your orgasm piqued, igniting across your nerves.  Over and over, it crashed over you, drowning you, stealing your voice in favor of gasps of air and primal moans.

Barbatos relished the sight, the way you broke before him, because of him.  He relished in the feel of you tight around his cock, your walls pulsing, sucking him in.  He released your leg from his grip and leaned over you again, his lips stealing yours as he pistoned even faster, now that he was able to finally chase his own release.  He buried himself in you with each thrust, the ‘pap’ ‘pap’ of skin hitting skin loud in his ears.  You cried out against him with each thrust, your teeth digging into his shoulder.  If it weren’t for your legs tightening in an iron grip around him, he would have stopped, checked you for injuries.  But instead, you clung to him, your body beyond words, beyond control.

Were you going to cum again? So soon?

The thought alone was enough to send Barbatos over the edge, hot cum spilling from his cock with a groan as he rode out the burning wave of pleasure that washed over him.  With each release of his load into you, a new wave followed, and he chased it relentlessly, savoring every second of you pinned beneath him, wrapped around him...

Your body spasmed against him and you half moaned, half cried into his shoulder, your arms tight around his neck as your hips rolled and bucked, your breaths forced out on a parched, hot tongue and burning lungs. It only added to his own pleasure; not just the fresh spasming of your cunt around him, milking the last of what he had to offer, but the way you moaned for him, clung to him, needed him, as if you’d shatter if every inch of you weren’t touching.

With the majority of his orgasm already falling to the wayside, he kept his pace until he was sure you had finished, when your death grip on his neck finally loosened and your head fell back damp with sweat into his rich bedsheets, panting heavily for air.

Barbatos was less winded of course, thanks to his superior strength and stamina.  It allowed him the opportunity to lift himself on his arms and stare down at you, memorizing every detail.

As your breaths finally eased, your eyes fluttered open.  As soon as you saw him staring down at you, you covered your face with a giggle.  Barbatos smiled and grabbed your hand in his, pulling it off your face and pinning it above your head.  He kissed you with smiling lips, and you returned it in kind, your free hand wrapping lazily around his neck, your fingers gently threading through his sweaty strands.  He kissed you again, and again, moving from your lips to your cheek, to your jaw. You giggled against it, and he smiled against your skin as he buried his face into your neck and allowed himself to rest some of his weight onto you.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked.  His voice was low and reverberated into your chest.

Your fingers lightly grazed back and forth along the back of his neck absently.

“Yeah,” you replied drowsily.  “You?”

“Hm, yes.” he confirmed.  “Very much so.”

After a long quiet moment, you spoke again, your eyes staring at the ceiling.  “That was... wow.”

Barbatos pulled back sightly to look at you.  “Do you regret it? Was it too soon?”

You looked at him in confusion and gave an amused laugh. “Definitely not. I’ve been wanting for that forever.” A pause.  “How about you? Do you regret it?”

Barbatos smiled as he allowed the tips of his fingers to trace your body.  He followed your neck, your shoulder, the curve of your breast.  His smile widened as your nipple perked and hardened under his touch. 

“No,” he replied.  “It happened sooner than I expected, but trust me when I say I have zero regrets. Had I known it would be like this, I would have claimed you sooner.”

You stared at him with poorly masked surprise. Barbatos gave a soft chuckle as his fingers continued their trek down along your hip to your thigh.

“I meant what I said earlier this evening...” he said as he watched his hand travel. “I do not look into your future.  I did not know this would happen.” His hand trailed back up your side to visit the gentle slopes of your arm, following the lines to your sensitive palm.  His fingers twined with yours and he looked back at your eyes.  “And I’m glad.  Seeing this future would have dulled the experience. It was meant to happen like this; unexpected and perfect.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you pulled him against you as you kissed him tenderly. When your lips parted again, amusement colored your expression.

“I think I’m ready for that tea now.”

Barbatos grinned down at you.  “Absolutely not.  I will make us fresh tea.” He glanced down pointedly at where your bodies were still joined, although his white, sticky cum had long since begun to leak out onto the bedding.  “But first, perhaps a bath.”

You laughed as you followed his gaze.  “Yes, a bath would be nice.”

You had expected him to pull out of you, to help you stand and walk with you.  You were prepared for the walk of shame, the humorous waddle of cupping your hand between your legs to catch any remaining drops of Barbatos’s gift that would inevitably leak out on your journey to the bathroom.  But instead, his tail slithered its way between your back and the mattress and wrapped around your waist, as his hands gripped the globes of your butt.

“Hold on,” he ordered.

“What’re you—AH!”

He hoisted you up in his arms, your body securely pressed against his.  You giggled into his shoulder as he carried you to the bathroom, his tail loosening around your waist in order to open the door while he continued to support your weight easily with his palms.

He set you down near the toilet.  “If my memory of human anatomy is still correct, you should pee.”

You sat on the toilet to do as he asked, and watched as he began to fill the very large bathtub with hot water. The sight of him nude in front of you was both arousing and odd.  He always kept himself covered from head to toe, so much so that even the slightest hint of arm or shoulder had been enough to make your blood run hot and your thighs squeeze together on more than one occasion.  But now, you could see every inch of him, and you realized what an absolute insult it was to have his figure covered up at all times.

He looked up to catch you staring at him and you averted your eyes quickly. He smirked.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

You nodded as you cleaned yourself.

He held out his hand to you.  “Then come join me.”

You did, stepping into the bathwater with his body behind you. You sighed as you leaned back against him, the water coming up to barely cover your breasts.  His hands caressed your arms, your legs; any part of you he could easily touch.

It was a soft silence, a gentle togetherness where words had no place.  There was no need for them.  They were too loud, too plain... there was no way to capture what either of you felt, and there was no need to define or label, to announce or question.  Before the two of you were not, and now you were. The transition into togetherness came with ease, forged through intimacy and surrender, through the carefully laid bricks of friendship and time.

Barbatos washed your hair for you, planting a kiss to your forehead as you tilted your head back to rinse.   He washed your back too, and your arms, the soft washcloth trailing over every inch of skin.  Your knees, your thighs...  But then the washcloth was abandoned in favor of his fingers between your legs, parting your lips beneath the warm, sudsy water to find the pearl of nerves nestled protectively at the apex of your folds.

“Barbatos...” you moaned as you felt that familiar heat reignite. He planted a silent kiss to your temple as he began to move his first two fingers in small circles.  Your legs spread as far as they could within the tub, and he took that as an invitation to increase his pace as his other hand cupped and massaged your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers with small pinches.

He worked you quickly and with ease.  Within a minute, your head was tilted back against his shoulder as he watched his hand work you beneath the water, your body tensing and flexing each time he passed the pads of his fingers over you.  Quicker and quicker he circled, increasing the pressure until that familiar sound of your heavy panting greeted his ears and your hips rocked, causing your back to press against his hard cock.  He pressed kisses against your jaw line, your neck, and he watched your face as your eyes fluttered closed and your brows drew together, your mouth slightly parted.

You came with a groan, your back arching against him, and he maintained his pace, his digits circling vigorously as he whispered soft praises into your ear.

“Good girl.  My beautiful girl...”

As the pleasure receded to a low hum across your skin, you slumped against him with a sigh and closed eyes.  After a moment, you opened your eyes and looked at him. He smiled and kissed you.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“Do I need a reason?” he replied.  His hands caressed your shoulders as his lips grazed the curve of your ear.  “Because I wanted to,” he whispered.

You turned as best you could in the tub and kissed him tenderly.

You wanted to reciprocate, to run your fingers through his dark green hair as you washed it, to cleanse his pale skin with soap on your palms and affection in your touch.  You wanted to make him feel as good as you felt, to know the weight of him in your hand, your mouth...

But he spoke first.

“Come,” he ordered. 

Before you could protest, Barbatos disentangled himself from you and stepped lithely out of the tub. He grabbed one towel and wrapped it around his lean frame.  Then he grabbed a second towel for you and held it open in quiet invitation.  Unable to say no, you stood and stepped out of the tub, the cool air of the bathroom kissing your skin for only a moment as turned your back to him.  He wrapped the soft cloth around you, his arms wrapping around you as he did so.  He pulled you close against him until his chin rested on your shoulder.

“There is a spare robe on the rack by the door,” he explained. “And you may borrow any of my clothes if you so wish. I will make us a fresh batch of tea.”

With a kiss planted against your wet hair, he stepped away. You watched as he abandoned his towel and grabbed his other robe, pulling his arms through the sleeves before crossing the fabric over his nudity and tying the sash.  With a brief glance and a small smile, he stepped out and closed the door, as if to give you privacy you no longer needed.

You breathed a heavy breath slowly from your lungs, allowing the release to steady you as you processed the reality of all that had transpired thus far.

The mellow acceptance you’d felt earlier when Barbatos was with you gave way to a mixture of elation and shock that hummed through your body and mind, reverberating against your isolation within the bathroom.  It felt as if your heart would explode, the beating muscle unable to keep up with the demands of the emotions that swirled inside of you like a vortex. You felt up-ended, chaotic, yet free.

This wasn’t at all how you thought this would happen. You had always pictured the process as slow, requiring a level of patience you weren’t entirely sure you possessed.  You’d ease into it, learn how to navigate Barbatos’s complexity on a level that you had yet to explore or fully understand, like learning to sail for the first time in uncharted waters.

Instead, the tether of caution, of safety, had been snapped from its mooring, and now you felt you were spinning, drifting, carried out on a heavy tide with no knowledge of where it led or how to navigate it; a small boat in deep waters, large waves, and not a paddle to be found. 

You wanted to trust in it. To trust in him.  To trust the softness of his touch, the delicacy of his kisses, the honesty of his words.

You wanted to trust that you would be kept safe, protected; that your small little boat would not be capsized by the weight of all that he was – an ancient, timeless, a creature beyond human understanding.  You wanted to trust that he would not let you drown, would not let you sink into the bottomless black, dragged deep by the limits of your mortality and understanding.

To trust your heart to him, your soul... it was like trusting the ocean to be kind to you, as if the ocean were anything but indifferent.

But Barbatos was not indifferent. In fact, he was far from it.  But he wasn’t human, either.  His view of life, death, the world... it went far beyond your own comprehension, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you, in all of your insignificance, had managed to even catch his attention to begin with, let alone hold his eye.

You began to gather yourself, your movements slow and sluggish as you dried your body.  Your thighs and your cunt ached, but it was pleasurable, a soft reminder of the intimacy you’d shared. It helped root you to the present, to tear your eyes away from that distant, unknown horizon and focus on the sand beneath your feet.

You stepped out of the bathroom to the smell of a sweet, floral fragrance.  You quickly noticed the new bedding on his bed, and wondered if you’d lost track of time, or if he’d used magic to quickly change them.  Either way, it looked ready to sleep in.

Barbatos was by the small table with a fresh pot of tea, the arrangement prepared.  He was still in his robe, the silky fabric loosely open towards the top providing a pleasant view of his chest.  He looked up from when you entered and smiled as his eyes raked over your figure.

“Perhaps I should let you keep that,” he said.

You looked down at the robe.  “If I did, then it’d have to come back with me to the House of Lamentation,” you teased as you walked towards him.

Barbatos narrowed his eyes.  “Then, perhaps not.  Such beauty should be for my eyes only.”

He took you into his arms as soon as you were within reach and kissed you. Then he motioned to the table and chairs.

“Tea?” he offered.

You laughed.  “Yes.”

You both sat, the air between you warm and comfortable, the conversation between you flowing easily.  It eased your nerves and quieted your fears.  In private moments like this, it didn’t matter that you were a human, and he was a demon.  What mattered was the happiness, the laughs, the comfort it brought you to be in his presence.  The foundation of the two of you remained, and yet there was a newness that coated it, a novelty and open curiosity.  Your feet played with his under the table; his tail teased your leg.  And the looks shared were a newly opened secret, an invitation to explore each other’s hearts, while sensitive hands itched to explore each other’s bodies.

Once the tea was gone, the conversation moved to the couch in front of the fire.  You curled yourself up against Barbatos’s side as your eyes watched the flames dance.

“How come I’ve never heard the Divine Language before?” you asked, your brow furrowed. “I talk to you and all the other demons and angels just fine.”

Barbatos gave a small smile.  “That’s because we are naturally fluent in every language. We speak to you in your language because we have to.”

Your head lifted from his shoulder.  “Really? I mean, I guess that makes sense...I just...huh. Never really thought about it.”

Your head went back to its resting place.

“I did mean it, earlier…” he said softly.  “You were safe at the opera.”

You were silent for a long moment.  “I believe you.  But for me, as a mortal, even the slightest possibility of not being safe was terrifying.”

Barbatos’s arm tightened around you.  “I assure you; I had multiple failsafes in place in the highly unlikely possibility that I was incorrect.”

You lifted your head again to look at him.  “Like what?”

He glanced at you and returned his gaze to the fire.  “In the worst-case scenario, I was prepared to teleport you instantly.”

“But that’s not the worst-case…” you said softly.  “Worst-case would be if teleporting is too late.”

Barbatos was silent for a long moment, his expression locked in stillness.  “If such a thing happened, then I would be forced to use my ability.”

“With Lord Diavolo’s permission…”

A muscle twitched in his jaw.  “Yes, of course.”

You didn’t feel entirely convinced by his response, which alarmed you.  Barbatos was always absolute in not using his time travel ability without the Prince’s explicit permission or instruction. Even the hint of possibility that his commitment to that single, most important rule would potentially falter... because of you...

“However,” he continued, his gentle smile returning, “even average humans can withstand the power of the Divine Language for at least a few minutes.”

Relief filled you.  “Really?”

“How do you think God and his angels talked to the prophets?” He grinned.  “So, I will tell you again, you were safe.”

You smiled appreciatively at his reassurances, but it dissipated as you had another curious thought.

“If you were so worried about the risks and had so many plans in place, why didn’t you just... not invite me?  Or maybe take me somewhere else?”

Barbatos gave a small, embarrassed laugh.  “Yes, I did consider that option first.  However, we’d already been struggling to find time for each other recently.  And I did not want the young master’s efforts to go to waste, even though he hadn’t considered the concerns regarding the Divine Language.”  He tilted his head slightly as he watched the flames.  “Besides, I thought the love story was somewhat... fitting.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. In a strange way, it was.  You snuggled tighter against him.

An idea popped into your head.

“Can you speak the Divine Language?” you asked.

“Of course, I can. I am a demon after all.”

You looked up at him again, your eyes shining. “Say something to me.”

Barbatos stared down at you with wide eyes.  “Like what?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know... Whatever you want.”

Barbatos stared at you as he thought.  Then he took a hesitant breath and spoke.

The sounds were a melody, a chorus of voice tuned to his deep tone.  It washed over you gently, blanketing you until every inch of you felt warm and safe.  It chased away your fears of death and loss, and instead, it made you want to trust him with your life.  His finger gently traced the line of your jaw as he spoke, a gentle smile on his lips. It was short, lasting mere seconds, yet it somehow felt longer.

Silence fell between you as your mind gradually cleared.

“Did you understand it that time?” he asked curiously.

“I... I don’t know. Was I supposed to?”

“It was directed at you, so I had hoped you would.”

“It wasn’t so much words, but more of a... feeling?”

“What did it feel like?”

“Being safe... and warm... Is that how it works? Through feelings and pictures?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve never been human.”

You made a face. “Eh, that’s okay. It’s overrated.”

He laughed deep and rich, and the sound of it made you laugh too, the joy contagious.  Then his smile faded, and he tilted his head at you.

“So, what did you say?” you asked.

Barbatos was silent for a moment, as if debating with himself.  Finally, he spoke quietly, his voice solemn.  “I told you I will always protect you.”

Your stared at him with parted lips, hoping to find the words that could equal his own, but there were none.  Instead, you kissed him gently, your hand cupping his jaw.  He reciprocated, his hand covering yours as his arm tightened around you.  It made the latent desire in you reawaken, and you deepened the kiss with your tongue.  Barbatos welcomed you, his mouth opening with yours, his warm tongue swiping and tasting. 

You hummed and crawled into his lap, your legs straddling him.  The action forced your robe to part below the sash, exposing yourself to him.  The sight brought a pleased hum into the back of his throat, and his kisses deepened, battling your tongue for supremacy.  His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips through the fabric to pull you closer against him.

His cock awakened within seconds, hard and hot, and you pressed your wet cunt against the length of it.  You rolled your hips until your clit rubbed against him, and moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound with his tongue swiping along yours as his hands forced your hips to roll on him again.  Your hands began to untie the sash of his robe and he chuckled against your lips.

“Again?” he teased.

The sash gave way, and you pushed the edges of his robe aside to expose the length of his body beneath you.   “Shut up,” you replied playfully as you savored the feel of his chest with your hands.

Barbatos’s cock twitched beneath you, and he began untying your robe in return.  “You lose your manners when you’re horny,” he grinned. “My impatient little human.”

He pushed the robe off your shoulders, and it dropped behind you off the couch.  He started at your silhouette in the firelight, his hands caressing your curves.

Your hand wrapped around the shaft of him and gave him a couple of languid strokes, teasing the flushed head with your thumb. Barbatos closed his eyes and hummed.

You tutted at him.  “Yes, well this impatient little human is going to ride your very big demon cock,” you breathed lustfully.

He growled low, and when he opened his eyes, they glowed like emeralds caught in sunlight.  “You should be careful what you say to a demon, my dear.” He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you lined yourself up with him, your dripping cunt hovering over his cock head. “I have more control than most, but even I have my limits.”

His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into soft flesh, as you lowered yourself onto him slowly, your gaze hazy and lovesick.  Your eyes rolled back, your lids closing, as you reached the base of his cock, taking every inch, his tip pressing deep into you.  It ached, your body still sore from earlier.  It blended with the burning pleasure as he stretched you, creating a sweet harmony of love and pain, pleasure and danger.  You rocked your hips slightly, then slid back up, only to come back down again with a slowness that even rivaled Barbatos’s patience.

“Then again…” he muttered as his eyes watched his cock disappear into you, “perhaps I made you wait too long.”

You moaned softly, your head nodding in hazy affirmation as you slid up and down his cock again. Barbatos’s hands began to move your hips, forcing you to rub your clit against him with each descent.  The pressure of his hands forced you to quicken your pace.

“Humans…” he continued teasingly as he watched your breasts start to bounce deliciously. “You always want everything now, now, now.”

Your eyes were closed in ecstasy, your head lolling back.  Your lips curled into a grin.  “Are you saying I’m spoiled?” you breathed.

He forced you down harder onto his cock and you moaned as your cunt tightened.  Fresh arousal coated his shining shaft, dripping slowly down his balls.

“Not yet, my sweet girl.  But you will be.”

Then Barbatos wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close against him as he snapped his hips up to meet yours, his cock slamming into you. You yelped and clung to him, your face buried into his neck. He did it again. And again. Each time, he pushed your hips down to meet his as he thrusted. Each time you cried out in high pitched whines as your breaths were knocked from your lungs. And each time, his cock grew harder and harder as he felt his own pleasure rapidly rising. Your body caught his fast rhythm, your thighs and your hips working yourself frantically on his cock as you rode him.  Your breasts were pressed against him, his teeth digging into your collarbone as you panted, your whines rising in pitch with each hit of your sensitive walls.  Your hands gripped the couch on either side of his head, your brows drawn together as you chased the release you so desperately craved.

Barbatos looked up at you, watched the curve of your neck, your jaw.  Watched every little way your muscles and tendons twitched and spasmed as the tension built within you.  His own pleasure was building swiftly, and he was determined to have you cum with him while he spilled himself inside your sensitive walls.  His thick tail wrapped around your waist, the tips of it dipping between your legs.  The tips were dexterous, wet and warm, and they tickled your clit, pressing against it, pinching, swiping.  With your eyes squeezed shut it nearly felt like being eaten out while being fucked.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” you cried.

He timed it perfectly, your orgasm cascading over you just as his crested, his load filling you as you rode him. He couldn’t suppress the grunts and groans that overtook him, couldn’t fight the way his strong hands forced you down onto him over and over again with brutal intensity as his tail tightened around you.  You cried his name, wrapped in moans of pleasure as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over, leaving wet tracks on your cheeks that dripped onto his shoulder.

He felt them, cold, wet drops landing on his hot skin.  He took your face in his hands and kissed you passionately as his tail kept you in place, helping your body to rut against him through the final stretch of your shared orgasm, his cock twitching the last drops into your cunt.

Finally, his tail relaxed around your waist, and you collapsed against him with your arms around his neck and your face buried into his shoulder.  Your entire body heaved as your lungs gasped for air. The elation pumping through your veins faded away to reveal the pain waiting beneath it in the form of burning thighs, fiery lungs, and a cunt that felt bruised and battered.

Barbatos’s hands gently caressed your back as he waited for you to recover. Once your breaths steadied and your heart no longer pounded loud enough for Barbatos to hear it, he spoke.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

There was a pause that worried him, and then you nodded your head against his shoulder.

But you didn’t speak yet, and so he continued.  “Was I too rough?”

Your response was quicker this time, your head shaking in denial.

He gave a soft, worried chuckle.  “Can you talk?”

You giggled softly and forced yourself to sit up just enough to look at him. Your face was shining with sweat, and your eyes looked tired.  “I’m okay, I promise,” you finally said.  Then you laid against him again, your body feeling like stretched out rubber.

He tightened his arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder.  “Do you feel satisfied yet?” he asked.

You laughed against him, even though the action made your ribs ache.  The richness of it warmed him, pushing his lingering worries back to the distant horizon of his mind. 

“Yes, very much so,” you replied.  “But I probably won’t be able to do that again tonight.”

Barbatos sat up slightly from his slouched position, and the action made you wince, his soft cock still nestled inside you.

He paused for a moment before making you sit up enough to look at him.

“You’re hurt,” he commented, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sore, there’s a difference,” you replied with a grin.  “Don’t worry, I promise I’m fine. I’m just... gonna move real slow for a while.”

“You will not move at all until you’re well again,” he replied firmly.

You put your forehead to his, a playful grin on your lips.  “Hmm, does that mean I get to stay in your bed while you dote on me?”

Barbatos smirked and he kissed you with a peck.  “Perhaps...”

“Then yes,” you replied. “I’m sore. So sore.  Suffering, even.  I don’t think I’ll be able to move for a week.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be able to recover so quickly if you’re in my bed?” he replied mischievously as his hands lightly squeezed your ass.

“Barbatos,” you scolded mockingly, “are you telling me that you would take advantage of me in my weakened state?  That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

Barbatos chuckled.  “I’m a demon, not an angel,” he replied.  “I told you earlier even I have my limits.”  He kissed you softly.  “But... I promise to be gentle.”

You kissed him softly in return.  Then he wrapped his arms and tail around you, and this time you were prepared as he lifted you up again and carried you once more to the bathroom.

He was dutiful in his care, his touches gentle and patient.  And when you were both clean again, he picked you up in his arms again and carried you to his bed, a gesture you were quickly growing accustomed to.  He set you gently into the plush bedding and followed after you, pulling his thick, clean covers over the both of you.  As soon as your head hit his pillow, sleep claimed you, your eyes drifting shut as you drank in the warmth of his skin against yours. They would not open again until the morning.

And as you slept, Barbatos stared at you in the dying firelight of the late night.  His fingers absently danced along your arm, your hair, your back. And as he touched you gently, the time passed, seconds into minutes, and minutes into hours.  The embers turned to ash, the room pitched into blackness, and Barbatos still could not sleep, as he battled within himself.  Finally, in defeat, he allowed himself one confession, to be spoken barely at a whisper in a language your soul would feel but your brain would not understand. The lilting, singing words spoken on a divine, immortal tongue drifted past his lips, unable to be recalled or undone.

“I love you.”

[mushroomnoodles]

Oh my goodness! I ADORE your blog! I love all your storylines!!! 🌸🌸😭😭😭🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸 I almost thought I was only person in this world who enjoyed Petrikov mpreg, I’m so blown away right now!!! T o T

Oh, and can I ask? What was Marceline and Simon’s bond like during Simon’s pregnancy up until the birth? And also, what was Morrigan and Marceline’s sibling bond like before Simon eventually passed and they become distant?

I see a very anxiety-ridden Marcy through those 4 months but also a super happy big sis by the end of it.

Maybe she was the type to sing songs to them…? Maybe when she’s tasked with babysitting them and they are all fussy, she calms them down by singing… “Everything Stays”?

thank you so much, it's really touching to hear that since.. i always kinda feel like i'm flailing with storytelling! i felt the same way before i started posting my stuff but now i see there's a little group of us chillin'.

despite marceline's worries she was very much present for simon during the pregnancy. she visited a lot and simon knew if he ever needed to talk she was a phone call away. plus, she had the honor of being the only person morrigan actually got excited to hear.

tw/cw for sfw and nonfetish mpreg

simon is. sooooo sentimental w marceline when he's pregnant.

marcy also would fly simon to the candy kingdom at night a lot so pb could try and get a reading on the baby. they did it at night so nobody would be awake + marceline didn't have to hide under all her sun gear.

simon had those moments where he just felt... like a freak, almost? and while pb tended to exasperate the problem by how she treated the baby as a threat (sorry simon) marceline helped him feel more normal and tried to adapt to his needs. and yeah, she was still pretty stressed- pb and marcy both were, and they also held onto each other a lot through this uncertain time- but she tried to bottle it up around simon, and in the end it was all worth it and marcy got a really cool little sibling to flaunt.

plus, she got to deliver them. she got to be the first thing they saw! how gnarly is that?

morrigan was actually a pretty amicable baby. very aware. very intelligent. and if they did fuss, the mere sight of marceline was enough to cheer them right up. marcy still taught them how to sing everything stays, though! i like to think simon and marcy are both pretty musical folks, and morrigan was no different.

morrigan really looked up to marceline and wanted to be like her. they loved hearing her stories (especially about the events in obsidian) and marcy loved having someone she could be a mentor figure to. she taught them EVERYTHING she could think of and knew, and absolutely relished in how much morrigan loved her. plus, they got to sass each other as all siblings do. morrigan was a pretty smart kid off the bat and they could bounce off each other for HOURS.

[ellisgirl]

Ellis Twilight — I Want to Know Every Inch of You Collection Event

Seperate Bodies 🔞 tw: suggestive, NSFW

I do not own any contents of Ikemen Villains. This story being uploaded in this blog belongs solely to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading their games and buying their stories. Both English and Japanese are not my mother tongue languages, please keep in mind that there will be mistakes and added words for my own preferences. I translate for my personal entertainment and for my own practice only.

Victor asked me to take the Crown's physical measurements for the purpose of health management and research—

I visited Ellis, who was easy to ask first, and it turned out to be the right decision.

Thanks to his great cooperation, the measurements proceeded very quickly.

Kate: “Thank you for your cooperation, Ellis. This concludes the measurement of your upper body."

Ellis: "That's good. By the way, Miss Kate, there's something I was curious about......"

Ellis: "Can you lend me a hand?"

Kate: "......? Yes, sure."

I held out my hand, wondering what he was going to do, and Ellis's hand came to rest on mine—

My hand was guided and touched his chest, which was bare…..for measurement.

I feel his moist skin all over my palm.

Ellis: ".….If you're interested in my body, you can touch it."

Kate: "Eh!? Uh, how.….”

Ellis: “Because I felt like I could feel your eyes piercing through me while you were measuring for my chest. ……Was it my misunderstanding?"

Kate: "You misunderstood..., there was nothing.”

Ellis looks slender when he's dressed, but when he takes his clothes off, he has an unexpectedly masculine body.

Although the measurements are taken seriously, I couldn't help but admire his thick chest and his well-defined abdominal muscles.

(I thought I was keeping a level head, but he knew.... How embarrassing……)

Ellis: “As much as you like, Miss Kate, go ahead.”

Kate: "E-Even if you ask me to go ahead….."

Even if I'm interested in touching another person's body, especially a man's body, my reservation and embarrassment will prevail.

(I know you're saying this for me, Ellis, but....I'll say no.)

I tried to take his hand away, saying It was fine if I didn’t touch him.

However, Ellis is holding my hand tighter than I imagined, and I can't get away from him even a little.

Ellis: "You don't have to hold back on me, so feel free to check with your hands."

You noticed I tried to take my hand away, your hands are literally so strong.

(If you've told me this much, it's not right to say no.….isn't it?)

(If I reject him excessively, then it seems like I'm being weirdly conscious of Ellis.....)

Deciding to accept the kindness, I slid my hand over his skin.

Kate: "....Muscles are softer than I thought. I thought it was harder."

Ellis: “When you're relaxed, yes. When you're exerting yourself, though, it gets harder......"

Kate: "Wow, that's amazing...!”

(Still, I think people are reluctant to have their skin touched...)

(Is Ellis used to being touched by other people…..?)

Even though the fun seems to rise, my heart is in turmoil at the defencelessness of Ellis, who let me touch him without any odd hesitation.

Ellis: "What's wrong?"

Kate: “Well......I was wondering if you do this to anyone who asks you to.”

Regret comes immediately after speaking out.

I knew Ellis was kind to everyone, but I speak as if I’m blaming him.

Ellis: “…..Don't worry, I didn't do anything that you would be worried about.”

The reply was ambiguous, as if it were an answer, but it wasn't.

I also notice a strange pause before the reply.

(What are the things that worry me? Have you ever let some else touches you, if only a little?…..)

Ellis's trivial words and actions have stuck with me, and I don't feel refreshed, as if a lees has settled in my mind.

(There's no reason to feel like this, but why am I.….)

Ellis: “If it still bothers you... Do you want to try touching somewhere else?”

Ellis: "....I really haven't shown this place to anyone, I haven't let anyone touch it."

Ellis: "Only for Miss Kate, special"

Kate: “Eh….”

Ellis pulled my hand again.

The hand that was touching his chest went down through his stomach.....and stop at his waist.

Kate: “….Ellis?”

Ellis: “No one touches it from here down, so go ahead.”

What Ellis is showing is below the bottoms... his lower body.

Kate: "Ah, uh..... This is not usually a place to let people touch, is it?"

Ellis: “What would you like to do, Miss Kate?”

Ellis: "Rather than normal or common sense, I want to do what you want to do."

Ellis: "I've been thinking about how to make you happy."

Even if that feeling of Ellis is one that is poured out without division to all.

I was the only one in his eyes right now.

Kate: "I, am......"

(......If there is a place on Ellis's body where only I am allowed, I want to touch it.)

The sweet sound of "special" made me forget to reply and my throat started to throb.

Ellis: ".....You can do whatever you want."

I finally gave a small nod as my gentle forgiveness.

Ellis: “Shall we proceed slowly? Let's start with........to the first joint of your finger."

Is Ellis pulling my hand, or am I proceeding with my own will? I don't know anymore.

My fingertips slip under his bottoms without any sense of reality, as if I were in a dream.

Ellis: "Second joint........”

Kate: “Ah.”

My advanced fingertips feel the rough texture of the skin. It's hot and humid inside.

Ellis: “Hmm. …..fufu, I’ve gone all the way in to the base of your fingers, haven't I?"

Ellis smiled like a child whose prank had succeeded.

Contrary to that innocence, I felt like I was doing something I shouldn’t...., I was scared.

Kate: "Uh, I guess..."

I came to my senses and pulled out my fingertips, grazing the deep part of him.

Ellis: “Nn…gh”

(……!)

Ellis: “Sorry..... I was so ticklish, I made a weird noise."

Kate: “N-no, it’s not….”

Ellis's sweet voice, which leaked a little, remains in my ears.

(The fact that I'm the only one who can touch Ellis here...)

(And that lovely voice I just heard, is that just for me?)

The thought of it is irresistibly lovely and makes me want to touch and listen to it again.

(But, as expected, no more...)

Ellis: "....More touches if you like, Miss Kate."

Taking my hesitant hand again, Ellis let me touch it through the bottoms.

Kate: “……Uh”

I gasped as I felt something passionately insisting on the area I touched.

Ellis: "This is what happened, so...I would like you to lend me a hand."

Kate: "B-but...I already had taken your body measurements.….”

I finally remember my job and give my opinion with a voice that seems to disappear.

Ellis: "Well then..... Do you want to check here with your hands? If it's a measurement, then there's no problem."

Kate: "...............I got it."

(It's just an extra of his body measurements, just to make sure......)

Like a butterfly lured by sweet nectar, I slipped my hand there again.

Ellis: “Ah... Haa….."

As I stroke him slowly while watching him, Ellis lets out a hot exhale of aggravation.

Ellis: “Miss, Kate…..”

(.....I'm weird. I can't take my eyes off him.)

He is so lovely, so cute, so disturbed by my hand that I want to see more of him.

Driven by the impulse, I moved my fingers with a strong and weak pressure so that Ellis could feel good.

Ellis: “……Nngh”

Kate: “Here…..is it?”

Ellis: "Nnm..... There, it feels good...."

His hips swayed loosely as he rubbed against my hand.

I was happy to know that I wasn't the only one who wanted to be touched.

(.....I want you to feel even better with my hand.)

At first, it was only my fingertips, but gradually I used the whole palm of my hand to wrap it up and continued to stimulate it.

Ellis: “……Nngh!”

Kate: "I-I'm sorry. Did I push too hard...?"

Ellis: “No... I'm fine. I just felt so good I was about to lose it."

Ellis: “You can touch me however you like. ....I'll make my place exclusive to you, Miss Kate."

(I, exclusive….)

The haze in my mind that I felt when I thought Ellis might have let someone else touched him cleared up.

(I see….. I wanted to monopolise you.)

(I didn't want anyone else to touch or see Ellis...that's what I thought)

If you know your feelings, there is only one thing to do.

As time permits, I continued to touch where only I was allowed and stare at Ellis, who exhaled shallowly.

Fin.

Masterlist

———————————

tagging+* @yonaaaahowell

[atom-writings]

Hii I love your blog ♡ I dont know if you're still taking asks but if yes how would France, Germany and England react to a s/o telling them they had been abused and have ptsd?

hetalia france, germany, and england with a s/o who has ptsd

1.8k words ~ gender neutral headcanons / scenarios

tw: obvs. mentions of trauma but nothing specific

a/n: sorry for being gone so long. my life is like a poor little weasel getting hit by a big hammer rn. hope this lives up to ur expectations anon !!! <3

France

- When you tell him, he's not surprised. He's spent so much time around you that he had always had his suspicions.

- But even so, when you first revealed the details of what you had gone through... Francis couldn't stop himself from crying. Seeing you now, knowing how you had been hurt, just broke his heart.

”No one will ever treat you like that again, ok?“ Francis told you, his voice shaking as he held you tightly against his chest, ”Never. Not as long as you live.“

- Considering how soft he already is around you, his behaviour changes very little after that.

- But, now, whenever he has the inevitable urge to run away, he just can't. He remembers how people have treated you before, and realizes that he can't be selfish like that to you ever again. So, fights with Francis are going to be more like discussions in a therapist's office.

- He'd never raise his voice to you or blame you for anything you didn't intend to do. Having gone through similar trauma himself, he remembers how long it took for him to fully move on from that; so any emotional outbursts on your part are easily forgiven.

- But in general, he's just very forgiving.

- Although he may be a great boyfriend to someone with PTSD, he might also become a little more controlling. Events that he wouldn't have batted an eye at you attending before might become a problem, as he worries about you being able to protect yourself.

- Friends who he used to mildly dislike, he suddenly insists on you cutting off. It's like he thinks of you as some delicate flower. It's all with the best of intentions, but it will be annoying for a while.

- Other than that though, he'd be such a calm, comforting presence to a S/O with trauma.

It had been such a long time since you'd had a nightmare about being back there. You couldn't even remember what the dream was about, all you knew was that you were back there. Which was more than enough to rip you from your slumber, sending you into a panic you hadn't experienced in months.

But as you shot up, sweat dripping down your forehead and heart pumping, Francis was right there beside you. In a flash, he turned on the bedside lamp and shook himself out of his sleep, immediately turning to focus on you.

”Mon chéri, did it happen again?“ He asked softly, adjusting himself so he gave you plenty of space on the bed.

You nodded, and he only sighed, ”That's alright, Y/N, you're gonna get through this.“

Your hands still shook even as he tried to calm you down, your gaze flicking from side to side.

”Breath with me,  amour, breath with me...” He chided, resting a gentle hand against your chest.

“1... Breath in,” He took a deep breath,  making sure you followed along, ”Breath out.“

For the next few minutes, not a word was exchanged between you two other than Francis guiding you through slowing your panicked heart.

”You did so good, Y/N...“  Is all he says as your hands finally stop shaking, ”I'm so proud of you. That wasn't easy, alright? But you did perfectly.“

You can't help but smile at his incessant praises, ”Can we just go to sleep now?“

”Do you want me to hold you while you sleep?” He chuckles, leaning closer to you.

“Maybe...”

Germany

- Ludwig wouldn't be angry, he wouldn't be sad, he wouldn't get upset at all when you tell him about your abuse. At least, not outwardly. Internally he's about to stab someone, but to you, he's completely calm.

- He doesn't push you to explain more, but he does make it very clear that you can tell him everything. He won't judge you, he won't blame you, he won't invalidate anything, he just wants to exactly what happened so he can better help you.

- (He actually went to medical school, as well as getting a degree in psychology, so he knows what he's doing.)

- After that, he puts a lot of attention towards your triggers so he can help you deal with them as well as remove them as much as possible.

- He's coping with his own PTSD too, so any outbursts or instability is completely fine with him. He understands. He'd never take anything you say in the heat of the moment personally.

- Plus, he's like, never tired, so you can always call on him in an emergency. You're his top priority. Whatever you need to feel safe now, he doesn't mind helping with.

- He becomes a lot more protective as well. Whereas you two were a lot more independent from each other before, now he makes an effort to accompany you to anything that might make you upset. He just worries so much...

- If anyone or anything DOES upset you, he's releasing absolute hell onto that person. Normally he'd never make a scene, but with you? He is completely ok with making EVERYONE uncomfortable, just to make a point.

- Your problems and trauma don't bother him at all. If anything, he's glad to have a partner who can understand his struggles as well. You're both just moving past something as best as you can, and that's all that matters.

“It's been three years?” You thought to yourself as you sat still, staring out the window, ”It must've been less than that. No, it was just last month wasn't it?“

That's what you'd been telling yourself since you woke up. That day, it'd been three years since you had left. But it must've been some kind of trick. Some lie you'd been told. No, it couldn't've been.

So you sat, your dry eyes fixed on a swaying bush outside the window. If it had really been three years since then, then you must've been sitting for months. The house was quiet, and the weather was dreary. You hadn't eaten. Ludwig would be frustrated about that. But he wasn't here, so... it was alright.

Or at least, he shouldn't have been.

“Y/N?” Ludwig called out from somewhere else in the house. You didn't move. Even as his footsteps came closer and closer to where you sat, you didn't move.

“Liebling, are you ok?”

No response. He sighs, crouching down next to your chair.

“Is this because it's been three years?“

This time a response, as it seems like your body nodded involuntarily.

”Ah. I understand, my dear.“

He stood up again, setting down his bag from work.

”How long have you been sitting there?“

”I dunno...“ You croaked out, your voice clearly being out of use for quite a while.

”Do you want to keep sitting there?“

No response.

“Would you want to come walk Berlitz and the boys with me?“

A small nod. Ludwig walks over just to open the blinds a little more, just as the sun begins to shine into the room through a gap in the cloudy sky.

“Nice timing, isn't it?”

“Yeah...”

“Take your time getting ready. I'll be waiting downstairs whenever you want to go. I missed you today, Y/N.” And with that, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and walked downstairs.

England

- When you first told him, things didn't go... perfectly. Arthur is not a very comforting man in general, but when it comes to you, his love tends to manifest in, well... not the best ways.

- He became quite angry when you told him. Not because he was angry at you, but angry that someone could ever do that to you.

- But after he realized how that anger would have come across to you, he tried to explain away why he had reacted so harshly.

”Love, I- I didn't mean to... well, I'm not angry at you, ok? I promise. It's not like it was your damn fault! You're the victim! Of some- some twisted cunt-”

“Ok- but y-you're still yelling!”

“I'm not yelling at you- I'm yelling for you!”

- Don't worry, that's probably the last time he'll ever yell around you.

- After the initial panic and hatred, he remembers what's important. You. And protecting you, in every way he can.

- Whenever he's around you, he makes sure to regulate his emotions as much as he can. He'll get all of his anger out at Alfred, just so you never have to worry about him coming home pissed. He wants his home to feel safe for you.

- He tries to be as consistent as possible. If you ever need anything, he won't ask questions, he'll just do it. As much as he wants to be snarky, he'd stop making those kinds of comments to you entirely.

- But if you still know your abuser, he's taking out all of that anger onto them. In his opinion, any person who could traumatize you like that should suffer just like you have.

- Basically, he just becomes a lot more protective. In public, he'd hold your hand constantly, so you always know that you're not alone. In private, he'd lay off any questioning. Whatever you need to do to feel comfortable, he'd push his own curiosity aside.

- Although, he struggles with talking about what you went through directly. He's likely gone through something similar, and an honest conversation about either of your problems freaks him out a little bit.

- He can comfort you, bringing you back from the brink with no problem, but don't expect him to have any meaningful ideas on how to help you cope.

- (His only idea is what he does. Which is to try to ignore it. Which is bad.)

All Arthur had to say was “What's wrong with you?” for the spiral to start. He wasn't even serious, but the smirk plastered on his face seemed to turn sinister within a second. The smell of the room, the direction of the sun, the feeling of your socks, all of it was too familiar. All of it was exactly like that time long ago.

You started to breathe heavier, eyes darting for something to save you from the situation you had just been cast into once again. Something must be different, this can't be happening again.

“Y/N?” Arthur asks, his voice distant and muffled within your panicking mind, “Y/N, look at me.”

When he reached out gently to rest his hand over yours, you completely drew away within an instant. Shaking, cowering in fear against the couch, as far away as you could get from...

“Y/N, is it happening again?” He said, his words barely registering. You nodded, still looking at everything and nothing.

But you watched intently as he got up. He walked over to the thermostat, his footsteps nothing like you remembered from back then. It suddenly became colder than it used to be... and a blanket was draped over your quivering body.

“It's over. They're not here... ok? I promise it's over.”

“You promise? Y-You promise?”

“You're safe. There's nothing here that can hurt you. I promise.“

[talesofesther]

sweet and warm

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You and Eddie are spending Christmas together, and he wants to steal a kiss from you.

Requested by multiple anons for my Christmas Special event.

A/N: Again, a lot of people requested this, so if you wanted prompt 13 with Eddie, this is for you. <3

Masterlist

"Darling I think your lasagna is ready."

You had just succeeded in finding a good radio station as your mother called. The old radio that had been in this house almost as long as you, started playing a classic Christmas song; the melody resonated through your house and created just the atmosphere you'd been after.

"I'll get it in a sec," you called back to your mother.

The living room was a sea of golden and red, with the knitted socks pinned to your fireplace and the blinking lights on your Christmas tree; all warm and cozy just the way it should be.

You wore a comfy white and red sweater, it had reindeer and pine trees on it, just about matching the one of a certain metalhead.

This was the first Christmas that Eddie was spending with your family and you couldn't be happier.

Turning around, you walked to your kitchen, but before you could fully cross the threshold two arms caught hold of your waist and pinned you in place.

You were already laughing as your back hit his chest, he planted the ghost of a kiss by the nape of your neck that got you shivering; "Eddie, come on..."

Eddie turned you around in his arms, he had a goofy grin on his lips as he looked down at you and held you close.

"If my lasagna burns..." You warned, winding your arms around his neck anyway.

"Burned food is not that bad, sweetheart," he pouted.

It got you raising an eyebrow at him, your fingers twirling and playing with one of his curls. The slow blinking of the Christmas lights reflected perfectly on Eddie's chocolate eyes, the golden glow making it easy to believe he held the universe by his fingertips; maybe for you, he did. His hair fell in gentle waves and stopped by his shoulders, tangling with the knitted sweater you made him wear — which was totally worth it because he looked adorable.

"Besides," Eddie clicked his tongue and glanced above you, "you kinda owe me something now."

You followed his eyes and looked up as well, only to see a small mistletoe haphazardly hanging from the archway.

Tracing his cheekbone with your thumb, you hummed, "I don't remember that being there."

"Oh, it was there, promise," Eddie told you with utmost confidence, furrowing his brows in a silly manner as his arms pulled you closer still.

You sighed, fighting a smile that wanted to form on your lips, "I mean, if it is tradition."

Eddie's eyes crinkled on the sides with his own smile just before he kissed you, all sweet and warm, his lower lip getting caught between yours and his hands tracing your back.

And you only broke apart after your mother called from the kitchen saying that your lasagna was starting to look a bit too dark on top.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

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[tangledbea]

You've been running this blog for eight years, and that's a long time. Long enough for the series to come and go, and have been gone for years. Long enough for me to grow from a tween to a technical adult (who can drink almost anywhere that's not the states. I don't know why I'm so hung up on this fact since I'm not american and don't drink.) Anyways that's a long time. Even though I've been lurking in this fandom and by extension your blog since Dec 2017, I never saw the very beginning of your blog. What was that time like? Did you always intend to answer people's seemingly random questions about Tangled? If not, how did we get to this point?

Hey! If it makes you feel any better, I recognize your URL from my likes! So thanks for talking to me!

The beginning was interesting. I expected this was going to be primarily an archival blog. As in I'd post (or reblog) facts about the (then) upcoming series as they were dropped by entertainment news outlets, and then screencaps, analyses, gifs, fanart, concept art, etc about the show, and people would look things up on my blog using my detailed tagging system. I learned how to make gifs so that I could gif the show. Honestly, for years I'd been following @artoftangled (not to be confused with @theartoftangled though they're doing stellar work), and I saw that they got asks about the movie a lot, and I was hoping this would be that kind of blog, too. That people would come to me for my years of experience and hyperfixation so that I could answer questions for them. I didn't expect it, but I hoped.

No, the most surprising turn of events for me was when crew members were popping up on Tumblr, posting info and sometimes art, answering the questions they were allowed to answer during pre-production, including the executive producer (who, at the time, we didn't know what he was like). So, on a day when I was actually a little depressed and knew I had literally nothing to lose, I started reaching out to people. I reached out to CS, Stephen Sadoval, and Kay Ritter (now Hayes) at first, and started talking to them here on Tumblr. Much to my surprise, they talked back, started answering my questions, etc in private chats. And the next thing I knew, they knew who I was at the studio. I was genuinely friends with people who worked on the show.

And honestly, I think they found me so trustworthy not just because of my enthusiasm and long-standing presence in the fandom, but because of my age. I'm a grown-ass adult, and was when the movie came out. There are a lot of people who worked on the show who are younger than me, and of course several who are my age or older, so I was the crews' peer. And my excitement for the show was honestly free publicity, and the kind that shows need these days: buzz on social media.

I'd say that with as hard as I worked, I deserved to be paid, but I kind of was. I got a tour of the studio, various crew members gifted me with crew-exclusive gifts (I wish the art book was among them, but alas), I was introduced to Roy Conli, I had crew who were excited to meet me, like I was some kind of celebrity, and had their respect and praise.

I also got thousands of followers who not only ask me for facts about the show like I hoped, but my opinions and interpretations of characters and events. I think the opinions and interpretations was far less expected by me, because that implies a level of popularity that I wasn't anticipating achieving. So, go me, I guess? lol

Anyway, yeah! That's how it all began! I knew I wanted to create a blog for the show, but I held off until we had a title. The day that the name Tangled Before Ever After dropped was the day I snagged this URL.

[gunilslaugh]

hi! super huge fan of your blog, I absolutely love love love how you write!!

would you be able to write an xdinary heroes reaction where they’re princes? (this is very much based on the fanmeet content hehe) maybe how they meet and/or fall for the reader?

if not I completely understand!! thank you and I hope you have a wonderful day/night <3

Thank you do much for loving my writing that means a lot to me! Also when I first read this request I misread princes as princesses and my mind when to some Princess Wayv type situation lol. Then I realized it said princes and thought that makes more sense.

All members * \ ^-^ / *

Summary: How Prince Xdinary Heroes met and fell for you.

WC:3.4k

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Gunil’s family were holding a ball for his birthday, this was normal they held one for it every year. Meaning it was one of the busiest times for your family. Your family were bakers and the royal family hired you every year to make all the desserts for Gunil’s birthday ball. This year was no different, you were currently packing up all the desserts to transport them to the palace. 

Upon arriving at the palace you and your family were greeted with Gunil’s parents and workers to help bring in and set up the food. Gunil’s parents started a small conversation with yours while you joined the workers, helping to bring the food inside of the palace. You were currently setting up some pastries on a platter when a certain prince graced you with his presence. 

“The precious cargo has arrived,” Gunil stated. You look up from the pastry adorned platter to see Gunil standing next to you.

“Yes, the desserts have arrived safely,” you informed him.

“I was talking about you,” Gunil clarified, lifting you hand in his to press a kiss on the back of your knuckles. Gunil has always been flirty with you ever since you first met when you were sixteen. It was a situation much like this one. You were at the palace to deliver desserts that were ordered for some event. You ended up meeting Gunil in the kitchen, where he totally wasn't trying to sneak some food. To which you totally didn’t help him sneak some tartlets before running off into the garden. Ever since then Gunil would flirt with you anytime he saw you.

“You’re still flirty. When will that result in us baking you a wedding cake?” You teased him. 

“Nonsense, my future wife shouldn’t have to bake her own wedding cake,” Gunil responded with ease. His sentence shook you up a bit. You never took Gunil’s flirting too seriously. How could you? You were a baker, he was a prince. Certainly his parents would want him to marry someone of a high status, but that didn’t stop your heart from dreaming.

“You shouldn’t say that. My status isn’t worthy of marrying a prince,” You said lightheartedly to conceal the tinge of pain in your heart. 

“I’ll marry who I want. Status is irrelevant,” Gunil declared, holding your hand more firmly, making you realize that he never let it go.

“You think that way, but what about your parents?” you spoke, not wanting to get your hopes up.

“My parents want me to be happy. To marry someone I love,” Gunil answered. 

Truth be told after the two of you parted ways on the day you first met Gunil went running to his parents about how he wanted to marry the pretty baker girl. His parents were definitely surprised, but supportive. If you made Gunil happy then that’s all they needed from you. 

“Why are we even talking about marriage? You haven’t even taken me on a date,” you rushed out, cheeks feeling heated. 

“That can easily be fixed. Accompany me to my birthday ball tonight,” Gunil says. 

“Ok,” you agreed with a smile. “I have to go home and get the flour out of my hair first though,” you chuckled. 

“Of course, I’ll see you tonight then,” Gunil finally lets go of your hand. 

“Yeah, see you tonight,” you returned. Best birthday ever, Gunil thinks.

Jungsu

Yours and Jungsu’s mothers were both friends since their teenage years, so by the time you and Jungsu came along you guys were basically destined to be friends. You practically grew up in the castle alongside Jungsu. Now unlike how Junngsu had the title of prince attached to his name, you were no princess, just a lifelong friend of Jungsu’s. When you were kids though, Jungsu swore that he would marry you and make you a princess one day. He even pinky promised you about it. 

Throughout your teenage years the feelings you felt for Jungsu developed into a crush. That pinky promise he made you when you were kids rang fresh in your mind, but you were just kids then. There’s no way Jungsu was actually serious about it right?  

Jungsu was indeed very serious about it. Jungsu has been in love with you since you were kids. He specifically remembers at age five making flower crowns with you in the garden. The sight of you with the flowers in your hair took his breath away and when you leaned forward to place a flower crown on his own head his little heart skipped a beat. He may have been young, but he knew that it was love. He was right because those feelings never went away, they only grew deeper as the two of you got older. 

Now the two of you had become young adults and had more responsibilities to tackle, but dealing with your romantic feelings towards each other was not one of them apparently. To everyone else it was clear to see that you and Jungsu liked each other, but to yourselves each of you feared rejection and thought that there was no way the other felt the same.

“How long are our children going to helplessly pine over one another?” Jungsu’s mom sighed to your mother as they were both drinking tea together.

“Trust me, I wish the two of them would just confess to each other too. This has been going on for years,” your mom sighed as well. 

“Should we give them a little shove?” Jungsu’s mom asks with a special glint in her eyes.

“I think that we should,” your mom agreed, eyes holding the same glint.

“Jungsu your getting older and I think that it’s time for you to start looking for special lady,” Jungsu’s mom announced while you all were gathered around the table for breakfast. Making you and Jungsu simultaneously choke on your food. 

“M-mom, what are you saying?” Jungsu sputtered out. There was no need for him to look for a special lady when you were literally sitting right next to him. 

“Oh it would be fun! We could hold a ball!” Your mom adds excitedly. Betrayal, that's what you felt. How could your mom suggest that?

“Ooh yes, yes. Let’s go plan,” Jungsu’s mom states, getting up with your mom to leave. The silence at the table quickly became uncomfortable. 

“So a ball?” You broke the silence. 

“No, there’s no need for a ball,” Jungsu states. He’s finally ready to risk it all. If his special lady isn’t you then he will have no special lady at all. 

“What?” You question.

“Y/n, you’re the only special lady I want. I’ve loved you since I was five,” Jungsu admits. The moment feels unreal and you think your heart might explode from happiness.

“I love you too Jungsu,” you say. 

Gaon/Jiseok

“I’m not here,” a young man hurriedly told you as he entered an empty stall at your stable. 

“Why are you not-” you began to ask the stranger.

“Excuse me miss, have you seen the prince run by here?” A place guard asks you.

“The prince?” You say baffled. Was that who the guy hiding in your stall was? “You mean a young man, about this tall, dark hair?” You described the stranger.

“Yes, that sounds like him,” the guard nodded.

“He went that way,” you pointed in the direction that led deeper into town. “Seemed to be a real hurry,” you added.

“Thank you so much,” the guard thanked you, going on his way. 

“So is there any reason in particular why Mr. Princey is hiding in my stable stall?” You asked the stranger who you now know is the prince. He stands up double checking the coast is clear.

“My coronation is coming up and my mother has basically put me on castle lockdown cause she’s worried that something may happen to me. I appreciate that she cares, but it’s been really suffocating, so I snuck for a bit of freedom,” he explained to you. “Now why did you help me? Cause it sounded like you didn’t know that I was the prince before,” he takes his turn to question you. 

“You’re right I didn’t know who you were and I guess I was just feeling nice,” you answered. 

“Well thank you,” he told you.

“Wanna go for a ride?” You asked him. You're not entirely sure why you did either, but some part of you wasn’t ready to part ways with him yet.

“A ride?” He inquires.

“Yeah you said you were feeling suffocated. Riding always helps me feel free, clear my head. It’s just a suggestion though. You can say no,” you informed him. Jiseok smiled.

“Let’s go for a ride,” he agreed. You saddled up two horses and began to lead Jiseok out of the stables. 

“Oh wait just a sec,” you said before going back into the stables to grab something. You returned with a cloak in hand. “Wear this, so it will be harder for people to recognize you,” you handed the cloak over to him. 

“Thanks,” he takes the cloak from your hands and puts it on, lifting the hood to help hide his face. After that the two of you set off with you leading the way to one of your favorite trails. Jiseok indeed did feel freer. He even momentarily forgot that was currently a runaway with palace guards after him. The two of you stopped by a stream, letting your horses rest for a bit.

“Feeling better?” you asked him.

“Much,” he says, taking down the hood, it was only the two of you and the horses around anyway.

“Good, but we should get heading back. The sun is gonna set soon and I’m sure your mother is worried sick,” you brought up. Jiseok sighed, you were right, it was time for him to go back. The two of you mounted your horses and rode back to your stable. 

“Thanks for today,” Jiseok tells you.

“No problem Mr. Princey. I had fun too,” you tell him. 

“Jiseok, my name is Jiseok,” he informs.

“Ok, Mr. Princey Jiseok,” you corrected, making him laugh. “I’m y/n” you told him your name. 

“KWAK JISEOK WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” His mother angrily shouts at him.

“I met someone,” he replies with a lovesick smile.

O.de/Seungmin

Your father was the gardener for the royal palace and you would often help tend to the garden with him. You trimmed the shrubs, watered the flowers, planted seeds, picked vegetables/fruits. You also found yourself having late night conversations with the prince quite often. Seungmin didn’t really have friends, either his princely duties didn’t allow him the time to, or people didn’t actually want to be friends with him, but the prince. You weren’t like that though you liked Seungmin for Seungmin not the royalty that came with him. In fact you were the only person who could make Seungmin forget that he was a prince. Whenever he was with you he felt like just another person. Don’t get him wrong it’s not like he hated being a prince, but it was nice to be seen as a person rather than his position. 

“Even tending to the plants in the late of night,” Seungmin’s voice successfully startles to causing you to jump. “Sorry,” he apologies, but his laugh takes away from it’s meaning.

“It’s not funny, what if I hurt Blossom?” You scold him.

“You named the shrub?” He asked you. 

“This was the first plant I planted here. She's special to me,” you explained. “What brings you out to the garden tonight?” You quizzed him.

“Just wanted to see you,” he replied casually. You hate the way it affected your heart so much.

“You saw me during the day though, when you had your archery lesson,” you pointed.

“That was different. I couldn’t talk to you then,” he reasoned. Again your heart is pathetically affected. 

“What do you want to talk about then?” You acted like your heart didn’t just skip a few beats.

“Anything, I just like talking to you,” he answers. Does he know what he’s doing to you?

Ironically you were the one with no clue about what you did to him. You were oblivious to how Seungmin spent the better half of his day waiting for him to finally be free and find you in the garden. Unaware about how hard it was for him to focus on archery when all he wanted to do was stare at you. Unknowledgeable to how he would gladly spend the whole night talking to you, not even caring about how tired it would make him the next morning. Ignorant to the way your smile alone made his heart skip a beat. How even when you had dirt smeared on your face, hands covered with soil, that you were still the most ethereal person in Seungmins eyes. It was shocking how oblivious you were to Seungmin being head over heels in love with you. 

“I like talking to you too,” you responded and Seungmin swore he could see the stars twinkle in your eyes. The two of you then lost yourselves in conversation for a while before deciding to finally call it a night. 

“Goodnight,” Seungmin wished you, although a part of him didn’t want to.

“Goodnight,” you wished him back. You always felt a bit sad whenever your late night talked came to an end.

The next morning you came to work in the garden like you always do. You were doing your daily watering when you noticed a piece of paper stuck in Blossom’s leaves. You pulled it out. It read, You’re the first person to treat me as Seungmin and not Prince Seungmin. You’re special to me &lt;;3.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

You didn’t really know much about prince Hyeongjun, although most people outside of the palace didn't. Hyeongjun was known to be reserved and that he didn’t leave the palace often. It was a rare occurrence for him to leave and people usually made a big deal out of it when he did. You felt apologetic towards him there, he probably hated how big of a deal people made it. 

The royal family was holding a banquet, so of course there was a rustle about whether or not Hyeongjun would be making an appearance. You weren’t even planning on attending, deciding that you would rather spend time tailoring clothes at your shop. It looks like your plans would be changing a bit though as a royal messenger entered your shop. 

“Their majesties are requesting that you tailor a new suit for Prince Hyeongjun for the upcoming banquet,” he informs you, handing you an envelope. You opened the envelope and read its contents. The messenger summed it up: the royal family indeed was asking you to tailor a suit for the prince. They told you to be at the place tomorrow so that you could do a fitting, to get Hyeongjun’s measurements.

“A guard will be here tomorrow to pick you up and here’s your pay ahead of time,” the messenger hands you a pouch filled with money. Just as briskly as he entered he left. You figured that it would be best to keep this quiet. You didn’t feel like being badgered from people who had what you found to be an unsettling obsession to learn more about the quiet prince. 

The guard arrived the proceeding day like the messenger told you they would and you were escorted to the palace. You were led down a big corridor till you reached a set of doors. The guard knocked on the door.

“The tailor is here your highness,” the guard alerts. After waiting a few seconds the guard opens the door and leads you into the room. 

“I’m prince Hyeongjun,” he introduces himself. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m y/n, the tailor,” you introduced yourself back. 

“You may go,” Hyeongjun tells the guard and he exits the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Shall we begin?” You asked.

“Yes,” he answered simply. You got to work taking his measurements and writing them down in your notebook. 

“Any special reason why you’re attending this banquet?” You asked.

“Oh um..i,” he stammers.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. You’re just known to be reserved and your public appearances are a bit rare, so I was curious, but I can just shut up and take your measurements if that’s better,” you rambled. 

“No, it’s ok. It just takes me some time to warm up to people, so I struggle with public appearances,” he reveals to you.

“I don’t really go out into public much either. I prefer to hide in my shop,” you offered, hoping it might help Hyeongjun feel more comfortable.

“Really?” Hyeongjun asks.

“Yeah, guess I need some time to warm up to people too,” you chuckled.

“So you aren’t going to be attending the banquet then?” He infers.

“I wasn’t but if you’re gonna be there,” you left your sentence partially opened.

“I’d like to see you there,” Hyeongjun says.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you told him.

Jooyeon

You first met Jooyeon when you were thirteen. You and your parents had just moved into town a few days prior. Your mother was looking for work and the palace just so happened to be looking for new maids. This resulted in you being lonely though. Your mother only returned home in the later hours of the evening and your dad was busy with his work for the better hours of the day, so you spent a lot of time alone. That was until one day your mother brought you to the palace with her, saying that they needed some extra hands for the day. You mainly remained by your mother’s side helping her with whatever task she was doing unless you were ordered to take care of something else. You just so happened to be ordered to bring the prince his tea. You were supposed to go into his study, set the tea down and leave, simple. Only Jooyeon wouldn’t let it be that simple.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” he states as you enter his study setting down his tea. 

“I’m just helping out for the day,” you informed him, turning to leave.

“Wait!” He calls you. 

“Yes? Did you need something else?” You asked him, freezing in your place.

“You look young. How old are you?” He questions.

“Thirteen,” you answered.

“Hey me too!” He says excitedly ‘Come sit,” he tells you.

“Oh I don’t think I’m supposed to,” you started to decline.

“Don’t be silly. I’ll order you as prince if I have too,” he sternly prompts, so you sat and that’s where your friendship with Jooyeon began. You were no longer lonely and now spent most of your time in the palace. When Jooyeon wasn’t busy he was right by your side or sometimes even if he was busy he still found his way to your side. 

There were some talks about how could the royal highnesses let their son hang around with one of their maids' daughters, but Jooyeon never paid any mind to it, saying he can hang out with whomever he pleases. Plus looking down on maids was stupid anyway, without them the palace would not function. His parents actually valued your friendship with Jooyeon too. They saw how you made him better, more mature. Prior to befriending you Jooyeon would whine and complain, be stubborn about doing the tasks assigned to him. Aftering becoming friends with you he did his tasks just as he was told no ands, ifs, or buts. He’d still complain here and there, but it was much less. His parents saw you change him for the better and were no fool to look of love in his eyes when it came to you either. They approved of you though, you had proven yourself to be a bright and dependable young woman, so they would wait until Jooyeon realizes his feelings and confesses to you. 

“You know I was lonely before you,” Jooyeon tells you one night when the both of you are drinking tea in his study. It has become your thing.

“I was lonely before you too,” you told him. Mayhaps it was your shared loneliness that brought you two together. 

“Great, so that means we can never leave each other,” Jooyeon states.

“Why would we?” You asked rhetorically.

“Exactly, we wouldn’t your stuck by my side forever,” he proclaims.

“Does that mean I get a crown?” you said jokingly.

“I’d give you all the crowns you want,” he’s serious.

[mcytblr-archive]

Early MCYTblr Interviews: leftistgnf

today's interviewee (after far too long letting this sit in my drafts) is leftistgnf/marg, also known for running the gnflegalteam blog! they were kind enough to answer my laundry list of questions, and i'm excited to finally share them with you all!

Q: What do you remember about the mcytblr awards?

A: omg i hope this isn’t a disappointing way to start but i actually remember very little about these. were these the ones angie markets did? i just remember attempts to make mcytblr-wide events like this usually got complained about because the fandom was too big lol.

Q: What was the gnflegalteam blog?

A: probably the most poorly-aging part of my digital footprint 😭sometime in late 2021 i started doing a bit on my blog where i’d roleplay as a lawyer defending george from the gay allegations. on april fools day 2022 i made a sideblog with this fake press release about how we lost our case and needed help with the appeal and people started sending asks and it became a whole little side project. it was honestly pretty fun! people who already didn’t really fuck with me called it parasocial, but so was everything we were all doing all the time. unfortunately it is gone forever now…. after the story about george sexually assaulting caiti became public i made a final post telling him to kill himself and someone reported it and tumblr deleted the sideblog LMAO. it was a pretty fitting way for it to go out.

Q: What was the "drama stream" that you and Hari streamed?

A: HAHAHA okay this was like, summer 2022 i think? i had made this channel with the gnflegalteam username just to talk in sol’s twitch chat, with no intention of ever streaming, but hari and i began kicking around the idea of doing a “””drama stream””” where we’d mostly talk about cc drama. i’m not sure how to best describe this but: we, and our friends, tended to disagree with the dtblr majority on a lot of controversies. and dtblr could be really vicious when you had differing opinions! even on inconsequential stuff like lore takes! so people already saw me and hari as being toxic and controversial, just because we held those differing opinions, and i guess i felt like i didn’t have anything to lose by talking about it all at once.

admittedly we clickbaited it a lot and probably flew too close to the sun and hari made a very uhhh.. inflammatory advertisement for it. but looking back i don’t think we actually talked about anything THAT crazy. like i said, most of the “drama” was related to creators or the dsmp and not other tumblr users. there was a group of blogs who specifically planned a stream at the same time as ours and made posts about choosing positivity or something, which blew what we were doing way out of proportion and created its own unnecessary drama. but the stream itself, after all the angry anons we got leading up to it, was a lot of fun. it attracted a lot more attention than i ever expected. i infamously got connoreatspants to react to a raid from a channel called “gnflegalteam,” which was probably one of my favorite moments of my whole mcytblr experience.

Q: What was it like to be in 404blr?

A: 404blr, especially in the earlier days, was nice because there were so few of us who actually considered themselves “”george mains.”” george never streamed and was barely even active on social media so a lot of the community bonding happened over content droughts. i remember a lot of thinkpieces on the trajectory of his career and these floods of desperate “i miss george” posts. also, i know you didn’t ask about 404cord but i want to mention it briefly because basically everyone on 404blr ended up joining in the first couple of days. before all the drama it was really just 404blr people, plus a couple dream stans who also really liked george. it used to be very fun and normal!

imo most of the conflict surrounding 404blr happened when we fought with other subblrs. there was definitely a clash between dream/dnf mains and george mains, because they would really mischaracterize and over-sexualize george in ways that felt weird to us. in the context of shipping, george was always portrayed as this blushing virginal twinkish nymphomaniac. in general a lot of self-proclaimed dnf/dream team mains were really just dream mains who liked george as the other half of a ship and didn’t really care about him as a person. honestly, we were always just on a soapbox trying to convince people that george was a fun interesting good streamer.

it’s complicated to look back on because obviously i think george is really fucking gross now, which colors all my memories of being a fan of his. i don’t know that i still agree with my past self about him being particularly good at streaming either. but i met a lot of friends through 404blr and generally think about that specific community fondly

Q: Why was Hari in people's blocklists?

A: hmm i won’t say too much about this just because it’s not my exposé to give. but like early 2021, when i had just joined mcytblr, there was this discord server that hari was in, and they had a conflict that escalated to the point of some members putting her and “her supporters” in their dnis. it was really bizarre because they talked about her like she was a problematic content creator and not a friend they fought with. i was mutuals with a couple of the people who were mad at her and they were vagueposting like she killed their entire family. iirc everyone involved was very young at the time, which i think explains a lot of how that went down.

Q: Do you think there was an overlap between inniters and 404blr?

A: yes thanks to me! JUST KIDDING. i personally was a big clingy duo fan so i followed a lot of inniters and ended up being friends with a lot of inniters, but most of them didn’t really gaf about george. a lot of inniters (sbi fandom in general) didn’t like dream and really didn’t like rpf so we were a little star-crossed… i can’t speak for innitblr as a whole but there were definitely jokes among my mutuals about a couple of us being token george mains or token dnfers. because george (at the time) was kind of controversy-free and also interacted a lot with the uk dsmp creators, i think it was easier for them to let 404blr into their hearts than like, dreamblr or dtblr.

on the other side, a lot of dtblr people hated inniters because they were critical of dream, or because they had such different opinions on lore. i was constantly getting anons asking me why i was friends with certain blogs who had made fun of dream before. so i guess idk if crossover is the right word because it was more like, three or four dnfers who really liked tommy and shamefully showed up at the doorstep of innitblr asking not to be softblocked. thank you spider enclosure for extending that grace to me.

Q: What was it like on the inniter side of Tumblr?

A: my personal experience with innitblr was great! obviously a lot of them felt apathetic or negative towards george or the dream team but that was never really an issue for me i guess -- all my mutuals’ criticisms were pretty fair, even back when i disagreed with them. i remember the community itself being really funny and a lot less volatile than dtblr or even 404blr. they were also way more invested in lore, which was another draw for me because i was always a huge lorehead. tbh i probably posted as much about clingy duo as i did about the dream team so i was basically a part time inniter anyways. that being said, innitblr skewed a little younger than dtblr so i was never as involved in the community. but i always loved interacting with them and i’m still friends with a lot of my (ex-)innitblr mutuals. most of spider enclosure (for example) are still on tumblr and just post about like doctor who and shit.

Q: What were some positive things you remember from that time?

A: like i’ve mentioned: i made a lot of really really great friends who i still talk to often, even a year and a half out from leaving the fandom, which is easily the most positive outcome for me. i could write a million words on how grateful i am for those relationships. it’s kind of sweet to think about how these random blogs i befriended during a crazy minecrafter hyfx are now people i’ve hung out with in real life, or who send me instagram reels, or who i watch timothee chalamet movies with. mcytblr also had some of the most talented artists and writers i’ve ever met! i also think the culture of liveblogging was a LOT of fun, especially during like big lore streams or mcc. an all time favorite memory was liveblogging tommy’s love or host because i saw tommy fans, george fans, and variety fans on my dash all begging for it to end lmao.

Q: Conversely, what are some negative ones?

A: a lot of people were like… really really not nice. and i’ll be honest, most of the not nice people were on dtblr. it’s kind of insane thinking back on the stuff that was said to and about me and my mutuals. this is another thing i don’t want to get too into because a lot of the stories aren’t mine to share but in addition to run-of-the-mill suicide baiting i got a lot of lesbophobia in my ask box, and my friends got anti-semitic and islamophobic and racist and transphobic hate anons. i’ve been on tumblr for like 10 years and it was my first fandom experience that was that vitriolic. it was also really easy to get swept up in that kind of toxic culture -- i’m certain i said some things i wouldn’t be proud of now, especially in defense of dream or whatever.

after october 2022 when dtblr self-rebranded as “dtblr 2.0,” there was a lot of gossip and hate posted about those of us who had left. i don’t like admitting this but it really fucked me up for a while! and ruined a lot of my ability to look back on the fandom fondly! it sucks knowing that people who have never once spoken to you have decided to hate you.

anyways, i’ve done a lot of self-reflection on my own relationship with fandoms and online discourse and public figures and i think i’m better for it, so i guess i hope the people who harrassed us have done that too.

Q: Were there any major fandom/creator events that you remember?

A: broadly speaking, mcc will always have a special place in my heart because it was such a community-wide event. like yes it was about the creators but there was so much activity in the fandom surrounding it (posts, art, analysis, etc etc) that it felt really major for us too.

i don’t remember details about this but i know there were mcytblr elections at some point in like 2021 maybe? i just remember i endorsed the 404blr ticket. maybe you’ve already archived posts about this. i don’t think it really went anywhere, but the campaigns were fun! and it was the first “community” event in the mcytblr fandom that i remember being around for.

ALSO i’m a little nervous to talk about this one in case it’s still controversial on dtblr. but ages ago i had a friend who put a bunch of mutuals in one of those silly hunger games simulators and it became this whole thing where people accused them of only including the “dtblr 1%”. which was like, categorically untrue, but it spawned such inane discourse that it’s ingrained in my mind forever.

Q: Is there anything else you'd like to share or have archived?

A: i think you got an anon asking for 404blr perspectives in the wake of caiti’s statements, which is like… what do i even say except that george is a sexual predator lmfao. because he is! obviously i left the fandom when a lot of people did, after dream’s grooming allegations, because i think he’s also acted inappropriately with underage fans (to put it mildly). the sheer number of survivors publicizing their experiences with abuse and assault in the mcyt space proves how prevalent an issue it is, and how harmful it was to have george and dream (and wilbur, and punz, and so on) in such positions of power there. it’s nauseating to think how much they, and men like them, were able to get away with. i regret how many red flags i overlooked, even back then before the worst of it was known.

i’d like it archived that spider enclosure was technically in the washington post. they ran an article about r/place back in april 2022 and the screenshot they chose for the header included the spot where we wrote “spien” even though it’s so horribly pixelated that it’s illegible.

uhh i think that’s it. sorry if this was more focused on dtblr than 404blr, they were pretty inextricable by 2022. but i hope those people who wanted to hear from 404ers got the insight they were looking for? my parting words… subscribe to tubbo.

[rosegoldscarlet]

God this is long, oops.

Okay, I've sat down in front of my computer now. So, I think there are a lot of people here who remember when I first joined. Oh, hold on.

Ah, that's much better. It's nice to go back to an old face. Anyway I'm Sev, and let me tell you about how I started RP, how it's impacted me, and why I'm still writing Sakuya.

I first got into the RP scene because of my now long-time best friend @cruentusscarlet (Now her name is Neo). At the time, we had only just met a few months earlier. When we first met, I was super new to Touhou. Eventually, I found out about Tumblr RP from her and started spectating her blogs.

The two blogs that caught my eye the most were her Remilia Scarlet and Parsee Mizuhashi blogs. Eventually, I got motivated to try RP too. I hadn't roleplayed anything since I was a kid, so it was relatively new ground for me. I think I should count myself lucky that I had her blessing because she was so well known in the THRPC at the time, so it definitely made it easier to slide in.

My first RP blog ever was one for Sakuya Izayoi @clock-corpse created on July 10, 2019. I was 21 years old at the time and completely obsessed with her and Remilia.

Other RP blogs I've ran in the past include Yukari, Reimu, Aunn, Futo, Mai/Satono, Yuuka, Saki, Murasa, Ruby Rose, and Edelgard Von Hresvelg.

Now, I going to be honest with you people. I look back at my Sakuya years and kind of wince a little. It was very obvious that I was just gaining my sea legs in this hobby to the point where it was a little awkward.

The way I presented myself was basically a grump. I was super edgy, liked to write about blood and gore, make crude violent jokes, and was kind of a hard ass... Okay maybe some or all of those things are still true to an extent, but it still made me cringe.

That's not to say that I didn't enjoy those years though. No, I loved my time RPing as Sakuya because of the people I got to meet. I made some friends, made a few people angry, and got to witness a bunch of events both pre-planned and sudden surrounding the community and the people in it.

My personal life was in a weird and depressing era back when I first started RPing Sakuya, but looking back on it, it makes me happy to see how much I and other people have grown since then. Not just as creatives, but also as people. I've made some really good friends just from joining this community and participating in a silly little hobby. I think that sentiment is why I always end up coming back (and I can never fucking LEAVE.)

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I wouldn't still be here if it weren't for the good times I had with y'all. As corny as that sounds, it's true. You know we're doing good when we get excited to check our dashboards. I know you do, I hear it sometimes.

And speaking of checking dashboards, you're more than likely going to keep seeing Sakuya from me on it. Well, at least on this blog. Okay let's get this out of the way.

"Sev, why did you abandon your Sakuya blog only to keep writing her on this new one?"

Okay, going back to what I said about me being cringe when I was 21 years old? Yeaaaah, I wasn't happy with how I wrote Sakuya on that blog. By the time I was 24-25 years old, I wanted to change the way I wrote her but it wouldn't have been right to just do it so suddenly and retcon everything. I already had years of character built into her and I know a lot of people liked her so I held off on doing it.

So what was my solution? While creating the Remilia blog, I decided to slap Sakuya onto it as a side muse so I could have my chance to write her with my new vision. Basically, the Sakuya on this blog is a different Sakuya from my original one. I just wanted a clean slate to start over, and impulsively making a Remilia blog gave me the chance to do it.

Well, I think I've covered just about everything. I know this became more of a reflection rather than an origin story but, I just got sentimental while looking back. I hope this blurb wasn't too embarrassing or boring to read but if it was then uh, that sucks.

See you later, bitches.

[archiveikemen]

'Black Wedding' Story Event: Chapter 2

Roger's Route

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

The tests we were put through were surprisingly predictable.

I answered their questions smoothly, just like how Roger and I had planned.

(So far so good.)

Believer: It is understood that the two of you are very in love with each other.

(We did it!)

Believer: And now, for the last part, a promise kiss.

(— What.)

Roger: Young lady, face this way.

Roger grabbed my shoulders with his large hands.

(If we don’t kiss, they’ll suspect that we’re lying. But…)

While I panicked internally, I felt a kiss on my forehead.

(...!)

Roger: My lover’s a shy woman. I’d appreciate it if you would let this one slide.

Roger: I’ll give her plenty of kisses at night after this. When it’s just the two of us alone, of course.

Roger’s genuine smile was the first I had ever seen, and the believer got excited.

Believer: It’s a wonderful thing to care about the feelings of the one you love! You have now been acknowledged as a couple.

Believer: The wedding ceremony will be held here tomorrow morning. Until then, you are free to spend your time here as you please.

(That’s a good thing, but that might interfere with our mission.)

There was still information we needed to explore Amour in order to find out.

(Right…)

Kate: If it’s possible, could you let us do some volunteer work?

Kate: I’d like to be of service to you, as you’ve acknowledged our love…

Roger: …

Believer: That would be great! Please, do lend me a hand.

It would be much easier for us to enter restricted areas by saying it was for volunteer work.

(Was it selfish of me to do something without discussing it with Roger beforehand?)

I glanced at Roger and he gave me a smile that seemed to be him telling me “good job”.

(He’s smiling at me. This… makes me kind of happy.)

After watching the believer leave, I said to Roger in a whisper.

Kate: … Thank you for caring about my feelings just now.

Roger: I just didn't want you to shove me away. Look a little sexier next time, yeah?

(Wha…!)

But despite the tone of his speech, his hand caressing my head felt somewhat gentle.

(... Seriously, being with Roger really throws me off.)

…

— Roger returned after taking some time off from volunteer work to go investigate.

We made eye contact, careful not to draw too much attention to ourselves.

Kate: Did you manage to find anything?

Roger: Yeah, I was able to "hear" a lot of things while walking around.

Roger’s curse gave him extraordinary hearing abilities, allowing him to hear anything within a 100 yard radius.

Roger: This is how the serial killings were committed. Sleeping pills were snuck into the wine served to the couples during the wedding ceremony, and then they were killed while unconscious.

Roger: As per the previous investigation, the main culprit is indeed the man who calls himself the Leader.

Roger: The bodies of the victims are stored in the basement.

The solid evidence made my heart ache.

Kate: I want to think that the Leader committed those murders all by himself, but… it’s hard to do so.

(There would've definitely been someone who would notice that the couples disappeared.)

Roger: Yeah, although the believers aren't directly involved in the murders, they silently condone it.

Kate: Why…

Roger: They believe that it’s salvation, not sin.

Kate: … Is that really the case?

Roger: Perhaps something serious happened that caused them to feel hopeless and end up this way.

Kate: … Hopeless?

Roger: Feeling hopeless can easily kill a person’s heart. They will then desperately cling to something for survival.

Roger: Regardless of how messed up that “something” is.

Roger: Just because a person’s heart is beating, it doesn't mean that they're living.

The way Roger spoke sounded like he understood that very well… no, it was like he had experienced it himself.

As I listened to him speak, the words naturally came out of my mouth.

Kate: Have you…

Kate: … Ever felt hopeless?

Roger: …

Roger: No. I was unfortunately born with strong physical and mental strength.

Kate: Fufufu, that’s very like you.

Roger: Right?

Saying “that’s very like you” felt like the most appropriate response at that time.

(Roger is a strong man. As he had said so himself, he’s strong both physically and mentally.)

Ever since we met, I never once saw him waver or hesitate.

My impression of Roger was that he was an egoist who lived according to his own set of beliefs.

(But… are there really people who are strong from the very beginning?)

(If, by any chance, it's because he has no other choice…)

— Was there anything I could do for him?

(I’m acting as if I want to be helpful to him…)

…

After sunset, we went to our room and I saw a large box on the bed.

Kate: What's that box?

Roger: Judging from its size and shape— it’s a bomb.

Kate: A bomb…!?

Roger: Pfft, hahaha! Just kidding, just kidding. It’s a present I got for you. Go ahead and open it.

(Geez… that was a bad joke.)

I opened up the box and inside it was— a jet black wedding dress.

Roger: I ordered it in advance and had it delivered here. Victor recommended the shop to me.

Kate: Why did you prepare this for me?

Roger: If your dress is black, the stains won’t be obvious if you get blood on it, right?

Kate: I figured as much. But I wasn't asking about the colour, I was asking the reason why you prepared the dress.

Roger: … The reason, huh.

Roger: Kate, you’re the fairytale writer.

(Huh…)

Roger: You’ve also been helping me with my work, and earlier on you came up with the idea of having us do volunteer work to help with our investigation.

Roger: You’ve learnt how to think for yourself and stand on your own feet. This is your reward for that.

Roger: Your current self can surely pull off that jet black wedding dress.

The unexpected reason took me by surprise, I was at a loss for words.

Kate: Thank… you…

Kate: Um… I’ll go try it on to see if the size fits.

…

Holding the dress in my arms, I went out into the hallway and exhaled.

(I didn't expect to be rewarded this way for my efforts.)

I was so happy that I felt like I was about to cry.

Compared to back when I first started as a fairytale writer, I had indeed become more capable of thinking for myself.

That was because although Roger was egotistical and often toyed with me, he was there for me to help me whenever I faced problems.

He was always watching me change.

(Oh, that’s right…)

(I want to become someone who can help Roger, just like he has always been helping me.)

Roger almost never shows it when he’s unhappy, so I wanted to be someone he could lean on whenever he’s unhappy.

I didn't know what kind of feeling that was yet.

…

And so, it was time for our pretend wedding.

In the chapel, wearing my black wedding dress, I was with Roger and the believers.

Also—

(This kind looking man is the Leader, the man behind all the murders.)

The man who introduced himself as the Leader stood at the altar, looking down at us with a merciful gaze.

Leader: Your love has been recognised, and you shall be granted eternal love. Now, please say your vows—

Roger: It’s not good to say our vows while lying at the same time, right, Kate?

Kate: Yes, I think so too.

Believers: … Ugh!

The believers suddenly collapsed to the ground on the spot, one after another.

Just like dominoes.

Leader: What on earth… is going on…