#it’s so so amusing

[mn12platform]

[saixria]

The sillies

When even Athena the Virgin goddess whose most intimate encounter was stabbing her bff thinks you’re cooked, you’re definitely cooked

[luvcaleb]

EYES ON ME.

nsfw (18+). i really did not mean for this to be a whole fic but i just kept typing. and typing. and typing... anyway, here are the usual cws: blowjob, cunnilingulus, corruption kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, marathon sex (sylus is starved), more yearning than you'd expect from a sugar daddy fic, and side note that sylus is older than you here (you decide how much lol). likes and reblogs will be very appreciated!

pov: you're a barista at the cafe sylus usually orders at and he overhears you saying you want to try being a sugar baby to make more money.

sylus generally avoids interacting with ordinary citizens. for one, they live in a separate world from him, and two, he'd rather not drag other people into unnecessary trouble.

you are no exception to this rule he placed upon himself. or at least, you should be.

but he can't help being drawn to your sunny smile, undeterred despite his intimidating appearance. he can't help but relax his shoulders when you greet him “welcome!” in a warm, gentle voice. he can't help but ask you how your day went, listen to your complaints, and chuckle fondly when you say something particularly funny.

and he can't help but notice how your sunny smile has diminished the past few weeks, weighed down by late nights and endless work juggling several part-time jobs to get by and pay the debt your father left behind.

so when he overhears you saying you want to try having a sugar daddy, he moves against his better judgment.

it's not hard to track you down in a shady site. even easier to lure you with an enticing price, better than any old, rich fool can offer.

and really, sylus doesn't plan on doing anything to you. this is somewhat like a donation, he convinces himself. that's all there is to it. he's not being possessive.

he pays you for your time. feels amused seeing you sit beside him with an almost visible question mark on your face, not knowing what to do. sure, you have a general idea what sugar babies do, but it was probably not simply watching an old romance movie while snacking on finger foods.

you think it must be some sort of foreplay, but he drives you home. the next time he calls you over, you eat together in a who-knows-how-many-stars restaurant in a tall skyscraper overlooking the city, which ends in a similar fashion. in the next, he takes you shopping and fills your closet with luxury brands, yet again ending the day with a drive to your shabby apartment.

and it's nice. it's really nice. to the point it's too good to be true. from the very beginning when you learned your client wasn't going to be an old geezer, you already thought you lucked out. but with sylus practically treating you as his girlfriend, leaving nothing to be desired, things couldn't be better. you can't even consider the possibility of being sylus's side chick that he's cheating with because there's nothing for him to gain from this arrangement. if you really think about it, sylus is basically throwing you all his money.

you think you can leave things like this. after all, you have nothing to complain about.

but on one of your gigs taking up a friend's waitress shift at a fancy restaurant, you see sylus with a woman.

they're both well-dressed. sylus always is, but now even more so with his styled hair and clean, crisp suit. the woman looks gorgeous in her champagne dress, all smooth silk and beautiful curves. the men around her can't help but stare.

he leads her to a table. pulls out her chair for her. smirks at her as they exchange friendly banter, looking like the picture-perfect couple.

a cold settles deep in your chest, even if you have no right to feel bad. you don't have the right to feel upset because it isn't like you're bound by any serious relationship.

but for the rest of the night, you try to avoid their table. you hope he hasn't taken notice of you, but that's probably wishful thinking considering you've felt an intense gaze on your back all this while.

eventually, they leave, and so do you. as you walk home, you try to dissect why you felt so awful. is it because he might cut you off now that he's interested in another woman? it must be. once he breaks off whatever you have, you're going to have a hard time finding someone else to mooch off of. you'll be back to the same old dreary lifestyle; the magic has worn off, and cinderella has to be miserable again.

but it isn't just that, even if it should be. you shouldn't feel so shitty seeing him with another girl if you only saw him as a client. somewhere along the line, you've started appreciating his quiet smiles, his teasing smirk, his kind gaze. there's something soft about his innocent touches, tucking your hair behind your ear or his thumb wiping away cake frosting on your cheek.

and you hate the idea of him doing all of that to that woman he was with.

“you should pay more attention to your surroundings, sweetheart.”

sylus interrupts your thoughts. you turn to look at the street beside you where you find sylus leaning against his car. waiting.

you hesitate only for a moment. you get in, and he drives you home. the silence is unsettlingly tense, so different from the comfortable quiet you've grown used to in your past drives.

eventually, you bring yourself to speak. “let's go to your house.”

sylus says, “i haven't asked for your services tonight.” it's soft, teasing, and most importantly, it's not a no.

the familiar manor comes into view, grand and imposing as always. he opens the car door for you. asks to carry your bag. unlocks the front door.

he drops it when you push him down the plush sofa, catching him by surprise. you've never quite seen him as stunned as he is now, stock still as you press your mouth against his. clumsy. unsure. yet eager. his fingers tangle in your hair, unmoving for just a moment, but soon he manages to tear himself away.

“i didn't ask for you to do this.”

he hasn't. he probably never intended to do this sort of thing in the first place.

but it isn't like he doesn't want to. his voice is strained. he's still holding you, as if afraid you'll pull away once you realize this is a bad idea. he's staring at you like you're the only thing that matters.

and you realize that you enjoy this attention. you like having his hands around you. you like him doting on you. you like him looking at you.

you don't want him to look at anyone else.

and, you come to realize, you want this just as much as he does.

---

there's a sense of clumsiness when you wrap your hands around his cock, hesitant and unpracticed. you seem as if you've never done this before. sylus should not be as thrilled as he feels at this discovery.

perhaps he should be a little turned off. but his dick feels the hardest it's ever been when you start giving kitten licks to his tip, innocently looking up at him through your lashes like you're asking for praise.

he murmurs filth under his breath when your lips close around his head, sucking at a spot that makes him shudder. he forces his hips to stay absolutely still even if he wants to destroy your throat. he can't afford to scare you away now. not when you're finally within his reach.

yet sylus can't help but run his hand through your hair, pulling you closer. making you take him in deeper. guiding your head as you bob up and down. you're gurgling around his cock, spit dripping from your mouth, tears in the corner of your eyes. so obviously struggling but still sucking more of him in, eager to please. you choke when his cock hits the back of your throat, and still, you hollow your cheeks, licking everywhere you could.

and that does it for him, making him finish much, much quicker than he means to. his cum fills your mouth, warm thick streams that overflow from your lips. he doesn't expect you to swallow, ready to catch with his palm, but you gulp it all down like a good girl.

sylus's chest fills with deep satisfaction. he tells you well-deserved praise as he showers your face with pecks, capturing your lips in a kiss that tastes bitter but oh so nauseatingly sweet.

he wants to reward you for being a good girl, you he pulls you to the edge of the mattress, pressing down on your thighs as he digs in. the first lick on your pretty pussy makes you yelp, legs kicking out in surprise. he gives your thighs a warning squeeze, and by the second, you're obediently staying as still as you can, whimpering to your palm.

you taste as sweet as you look, and sylus hums contently as he licks up all your slick and it never runs out. you moan so nicely for him when he laps at your clit, continuously flicking his tongue at the small bud, and you all but scream when he sucks it hard, tangling your fingers in his hair and jerking up your hips.

he doesn't complain when you ride his face, staring intently at your expression twisted in pleasure. your mouth is shaped around an ‘o’, eyes rolling back as he dares to slip his tongue inside your hole. he rubs your engorged clit with a rough thumb, fucking in and out your pussy with his tongue, groaning amidst the lewd symphony of squelches.

he hasn't planned on touching you, no. but he's thought of it countless times on nights he felt especially lonely after you left. imagined you on his lap, fondling your soft chest, playing with your cute pussy. he wondered what spots made you feel good, where you'd be sensitive. what faces you'd make when he touched them.

sylus doesn't have to wonder anymore, committing the sinful sight to memory. you've always been cute, but he thinks you're even more adorable now, squirming as he gently eases a finger inside you. you're wet enough to fit two, but it's still quite tight; it might take a while before you can take him in. he presses a reassuring kiss on your inner thigh when he finds your g-spot, telling you to stay still and be good.

so sylus spends a bit of time between your legs, adding more fingers as he laps away at your clit. at your first orgasm, he fucks you through it, not stopping his hand until the spray of cum has ceased. by the second, you've drenched his sheets and his arm, but by the way you're moaning his name almost incoherently, you don't want him to stop.

on the verge of a third, a fourth finger teasing at your entrance, you're begging him to fuck you. sylus has felt close to bursting for a while, so he doesn't complain. he rubs his cock between your wet folds, tapping at your clit with the head. slicking his cock with your juices as he marvels at how tiny you seem under him, the length of him intimidatingly massive laying on your stomach.

when he pops the tip of his cock inside, you clench around him immediately, warm and so goddamn tight. he can't slide it in one, smooth thrust; he fucks it inside bit by bit, observing your face for any signs of pain, but all he sees is a dazed, drooling slut, crying out his name and for him to put it all inside her. he shushes you, reasoning he has to be slow, but he's very well on the edge of his patience.

when his cock is halfway in, you turn into a shuddering, sobbing mess. his tip has poked somewhere sensitive, and when he grinds against it, you squirt hard, spraying cum on his abs. he laughs in disbelief, meanly rubbing tight circles on your clit to make your orgasm last longer.

once sylus has finally bottomed out, he whispers endless compliments to your ear, hands roaming around your skin. he can't stop his hips from thrusting, tirelessly fucking in and out of your soaked cunt with vigor he hasn't had in years. sylus doesn't consider himself the vocal type, but now he can't shut up about how pretty you are, how good and sweet you are for him. how nice and tight your cute pussy feels, how you're made to take in his huge cock.

he uses you the way he imagines in his dirty fantasies, like a whore he pays to bed. yet at the same time, you're his precious little princess, the one person he shouldn't hurt. the one person he should treat with utmost care. the one person that should stay untainted by the filthy world.

but you're moaning so loud, enjoying being his little slut. you want to be fucked hard and fast, fingerprints on your hips and waist. you want to be bred full of his cum and do it all over again. you want to be his.

so sylus takes you in all the ways he knows how. on your back. on your knees. on his lap. he lets you ride him, fucking up into your cunt when you get tired. he takes you against the wide, clear window panes, uncaring if someone might have seen. he fucks you while standing, holding up all of your weight, making you watch yourself on the mirror as he thrusts inside. he never once pulls out when he cums, your pussy crammed with his hot, milky loads.

you make a mess everywhere, but you don't have time to worry about it. you don't even worry about the chances of getting pregnant, being pumped full of sylus's cum. even if you did end up pregnant, sylus keeps going on and on about wanting you to be his pretty wife, that he won't let you want for nothing, that he'll provide for your every need if you'll just stay with him.

and in the face of his love, bordering on desperate obsession, you don't even know why you were ever worried about him falling for anyone else.

from the moment he laid eyes on you, he couldn't look away.

[batfam-stuff-posts-0]

[fentoaster]

has this been done yet

[prlssprfctn]

AU, where Bruce accidentally gets de-aged (physically and mentally), and the first person he bumps in is... Red Hood.

To Jason's defence, he didn't connect the dots at first. He was just patrolling around his usual turf, thinking of nothing in particular, when he saw a small child in a ridiculously serious suit, sulking around Crime Alley. He looks distraught, and considering that he looks rich, it is no surprise - that is not a place for him. So, he is either lost or something happened, right?

He takes the helmet off, as he usually does when he is dealing with kids (they got scared easily) and carefully approaches a brooding baby.

'Hey, shrimp. Where are your parents at?'

That said shrimp turns around, his big blue eyes looking confused and lost, and Jason thinks he looks awfully familiar.

'I am not shrimp,' he protests instantly, pouting at him. 'And they are somewhere... here. We just left the movie theatre together!'

Jason glances at the abandoned movie theatre, back at the little rich boy with a familiar frown, and it clicks. This is his fucking dad. Suddenly, a kid - but it is fucking Bruce Wayne, for sure.

'Was watching Zorro by any chance?' Jason still asks, just to be sure that he is not going insane.

Bruce - and it must be him - beams at him.

'Yes! This is a great movie, by the way.'

Oh, hell. At least, he didn't witness his parents' death just yet. Jason wasn't sure he would be able to deal with his father being so small, and mourning his mom and dad. He would probably cry himself at some point.

'Hey,' Jason calls out for him slowly, squatting down; God, who would've thought that this little shrimp would become so tall and big in the future. 'Aren't you... You must be Thomas's kid, right?'

Okay, yeah, Jason is going to lie to this kid. Because there is no way he manages just to steal Bruce as a stranger to bring him back home; it is still a kid, even if it is his father. Right?

'You know my dad?' Bruce tilts his head, little fingers tugging on the hem of his jacket; suspicious.

'You could say that,' Jason nods. 'Alfie... I mean, Alfred called me. Asked me to pick up a kid, since Thomas and Martha got an urgent call.'

Fuck his life and stupid life choices. What the hell he was even doing? He looked like a mugger; or like a psycho. But Alfred was his best bet - he could call him, after all; ask, well, support his idiotic made-up story.

'No one calls Alfred Alfie but my dad,' Bruce pouts in a very, very spoiled manner.

'Well... I do. We served together in the army,' he blurts out.

His armour, apparently, is enough a proof for the kid to nod slowly.

'Okay. But you gotta take off your strange mask first,' Bruce folds arms on his chest.

...???

Did this kid just agree for an unknown man to take him home? Like this? Who could've thought that this pouty child would become the most paranoid man alive in the future?

'Uh, why?'

'So I can remember your face and do an identikit, if you turn out to be a bad guy,' Bruce smirks stupidly. 'Duh.'

Jason is going to cry. This kid is so cute.

'Yeah, duh,' Jason huffs, but despite his better judgment takes the domino mask off as well. 'Go on, take your time. My identikit should be the prettiest, shrimp.'

Bruce... gawks at him. His eyes are comically wide now, mouth open, and then, he jumps a little closer to him - oh, God, he is jumping when excited? - putting his hellishly cold hands on Jason's cheeks.

'Woah. You look like dad.'

'Uh,' Jason nods awkwardly, and because he is an idiot, adds a joke: 'We are brothers, actually. Just don't talk much.'

...Apparently, little Bruce can't take jokes. Because he lets out an adorable gasp, and throws himself on Jason as if they knew each other for ages now.

'Uncle? That's so cool. You look like Zorro!'

Damn this little kid, and this stupid family. Damn Joe Chill and the night he killed this kid's parents. Damn it all. Bruce might be an asshole sometimes, but he was so... cute and innocent.

'Thanks, shrimp,' Jason slides a domino mask back on, picks up little Bruce with one arm, and grips a helmet with another. 'Come on, let's go home. Alfred will make your favourite tiramisu.'

'You know my favourites?!'

Jason sniffles.

'Yeah. Yeah, I do, kid.'

If he gets so emotional over this kid, he has no idea how worse Dick is going to be once he finds out.

Oh, this is going to be one hell of a night.

[borgialucrezia]

[soupdwelling]

i couldn’t not draw this

based off of this:

[clumsypuppy]

the pullerrrrr

[chimaeraonwards]

John Cusack, the voice actor for Dimitri in Anatasia (1997), shared his statement on Palestine 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸

P.S. He has been a Palestinian supporter for years

[loveletterworm]

Here is my painfully forced meta joke, for this morning

[sprinklesharkie]

ren tapping out in the funniest way passible

[sunderwight]

Shen Qingqiu gets hit by a rare wife plot.

And it actually is a rare one because Airplane didn't even write this one down! He toyed with the idea before ultimately dismissing it as being too controversial for the tastes of his readers, and adapting only a few of the same elements for a subsequent chapter of PIDW.

But apparently the System can pull inspiration even from the author's thoughts, especially when there's nothing to contradict the concept and even a few threads of it still to be found in the original, and somehow Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of this previously-unwritten plot bunny.

The core concept was a cuck scenario, of all things. One of the Luo Binghe's wives gets afflicted by a poison that can only be cured by dual cultivation, but specifically can't be cured by by dual cultivation with anyone who has mastery over demonic qi. Something something conflicting energies, something bullshit something. Peerless Cucumber would have ripped the chapter to shreds if it had actually made it to publication, not just for the insult of implying that Luo Binghe should let one of his wives sleep with someone else, but also because why would Luo Binghe -- able to use both kinds of cultivation -- somehow not be able to keep his demonic energies from influencing the situation just in this one case?

Well it turns out that in his specific case it's because sex gets him too worked up to keep things strictly separate, and the degree of control required to treat the affliction whilst dual cultivating is extensive enough that even a little slip-up would be fatal.

Of course, in the actual chapter of PIDW, this same plot device was altered and used to create a harem orgy where Luo Binghe oversaw several of his wives "treating" one another's "afflictions", but Shen Qingqiu just had to go and get a fatal of dose of the more severe version (he didn't realize the risk, because again, this version didn't even make it into the novel).

Anyway, of course this ends up with Shen Qingqiu trying to figure out another way to cheat death, while Luo Binghe goes through the five stages of grief before accepting that he's just going to have to let someone else fuck his husband. This leads to an argument because of course Shen Qingqiu's not going to cheat on Luo Binghe, and he's especially not going to force one of his martial siblings to sleep with him, come on now, and Luo Binghe trying not to cry tears of blood while bringing himself to explain that a fair few of Shen Qingqiu's sect siblings would be happy volunteers for this task.

Shen Qingqiu's just like, well of course you think that, for some bizarre reason you think everyone wants to sleep with me. Bias is what it is. Really it's flattering Binghe but obviously every other person we know is straight, that's just statistics, and everyone in the entire cultivation world knows that Qi Qingqi would sooner chew glass than have sex with a man!

Luo Binghe, weeping now: Shizun please. This is serious. I need you speak words that make sense in the order you're saying them.

They argue, they reach an impasse, the clock is ticking. So Luo Binghe reluctantly turns to the most reliable source of information (outside of himself) on Manipulating Shen Qingqiu to Do Things That Are in His Own Best Interests -- Shang Qinghua.

At first Shang Qinghua is like, well I'm flattered Junshang but I don't think I could shoulder the baggage of fucking Cucumber-bro for you. But then Luo Binghe is like no I need someone who is way hotter and more capable than you, if Shizun is going to fuck someone else at my behest they're going to be TOP TIER so that when I fuck him better afterwards he's really impressed with me. Liu Qingge, obviously.

Not Yue Qingyuan, Shang Qinghua asks? (He'd take the insult a little more personally but honestly he's just relieved that he's not being asked to navigate this social minefield.)

No, Luo Binghe says. He's not 100% sure he could beat Yue Qingyuan in a fight even to this day, which in his mind also translates to not being 100% sure he could do sex better than him either, so Yue Qingyuan is an emergency last resort. He's way more likely to cry on Shizun too and Shen Qingqiu is into that shit, it's too risky.

Alright, says Shang Qinghua, and he thinks about it, and then he comes up with the beautifully simple solution:

Luo Binghe has to fuck Liu Qingge first.

Because of course the crux of the issue is that even with permission, Shen Qingqiu doesn't want to cheat on Luo Binghe. But in the twisted annals of his mind, Luo Binghe himself is still entitled to a harem, even if Luo Binghe is also happily monogamous in this life. So if he shacks up with Liu Qingge first then Liu Qingge essentially joins Luo Binghe's harem, at which point if Shen Qingqiu sleeps with him it's not an affair, it's the gay version of those fanservice-y 3P scenes that the wives in PIDW did. Shang Qinghua translates the concept as best as he can to Luo Binghe, who -- though slightly dubious -- must accept that so far Shang Qinghua's wisdom hasn't steered him wrong with regards to his shizun's eccentricities.

Luo Binghe's mission: seduce Liu Qingge, or at least convince him to have sex, or possibly to lie and (convincingly!) tell Shen Qingqiu that they had sex. That last one is the longest shot so he's probably going to have to just fuck him (Luo Binghe still underestimates how willing his husband is to believe that just about anyone would have sex with him).

Shang Qinghua's mission: convince Shen Qingqiu that he owes his husband steamy threeway gay sex or something so that this plan he pulled out of his ass doesn't backfire and get him killed.

[themissinghand]

Genshin Impact Marked by the Sea

Summary: In which Neuvillette is your soft husband, a loving one with some dragon tendencies. 

or, here are snippets of a domestic dragon husband. 

Pairing: Neuvillette x GN! Reader! 

Note: Going through my drafts and yes, I had a Genshin phase

Warning: Lots of fluff >.< because we love our hydro dragon sovereign. 

★・・・・・・★

“You’re staring again,” you murmur sleepily.

Every morning, you wake up to long white messy hair on your face and sometimes, even purrs coming from your beloved husband. 

Neuvillette tightens his arms around your waist. 

“I’m simply…appreciating.”

“You’re very clingy for someone who acts like the world’s most composed man in public,” you tease, turning in his arms.

He presses his face into your neck. 

“You’re the only place I feel at peace.”

Your fingers comb gently through his hair.

A soft whine escapes him. 

“Stay with me a little longer.”

“Love, you have to go now.” You managed to sit up and let out a small yawn. You eyed the clock, and realized that it’s time to get ready for the day. 

“Must we get up?”

Neuvillette’s voice was muffled against your hip, arms still around your waist.

You laughed, gently tugging him upright. 

“You’re the Chief Justice. Pretty sure pajamas aren’t court-appropriate.”

You quickly pull him out of bed and help him wash his face and teeth. Help him clean up and look like the respectable Chief Justice everyone knows. 

He blinked at you, bleary-eyed, letting you button his shirt. 

“Now arms up.”

He obeyed, now a bit more awake, but his head thunk on your shoulder. 

“You’re too good to me.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you teased, guiding him to the kitchen.

He sat, still drowsy, while you went to make a quick breakfast. His eyes lit up the moment he saw the carefully packed lunch.

“You made soup again…” he murmured, picking up his spoon. 

“You know me too well.”

You peck his cheek.

“Someone has to make sure you eat something that isn’t stressful.”

Neuvillette caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“I don't know I would do without you.” You raised a brow. 

“Dramatic.”

“Truthful,” he said, giving you that soft look that made your chest ache. 

“I’d be lost without you.”

You poured him water, leaning in close. 

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere then.”

He hummed, content, and smiled softly.

“Thank you.”

The courtroom echoed with voices, petitions, disputes, and lies dressed as truths.

Neuvillette listened, silent and unreadable as always, yet the weight of it pressed heavily on him today.

Humans, no feelings are difficult to understand for Neuvillette. 

During a short break, he retreated to his office. He didn’t expect peace, but when he opened the simple wooden box you'd prepared for him that morning, the tightness in his chest eased.

Carefully arranged: poached fish, soup, soft rice, steamed greens. And nestled beside it, a folded note.

“Don't forget to eat. And breathe. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

You’d drawn a little doodle of him, half-asleep with his hair floofed.

He stared at it for a long moment. Then, slowly, a smile touched his lips.

He took a bite of the fish. Light, clean. Just the way he liked it. His heart unclenched, if only a little.

You always knew what he needed before he did.

He tucked the note back into his coat pocket, among the many others.

Then he returned to the courtroom, still weary, but a little steadier.

You found him hunched over his desk, buried in paperwork. Rain tapped on the windows like it was echoing his mood.

Silently, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

"...You always find me,” he murmured after a pause, voice tight. “Even when I don’t want to be found.”

“You don’t really mean that,” you whispered, resting your cheek against him.

When it got late, you knew Neuvillette was stuck at work, being the workaholic he is. 

He didn’t argue. Just exhaled shakily, fingers clutching a paper like it had wronged him personally.

“Why are they like this?” he asked. “Humans. So much… cruelty and lies.”

You held him tighter. You knew sometimes these cases could be too much to listen to, after all, people only go to court for frustration, guilt and confessions. 

“Because we’re messy. But we’re capable of kindness too. You don’t have to understand all of it. You just have to be you.”

“But I’m not human,” he said, looking up at you. “How can I judge them if I don’t understand them?”

For a moment, you hesitated because you remembered the time he told you about his true identity, but even then, you never cared for it because you truly loved this man dragon from the moon and back. 

“You don’t need to be them to care,” you said gently, brushing his hair back.

“You’re already doing more than most. That’s enough.”

A deep breath before he turns in his chair and buried his face into your chest. 

You didn’t speak. Just stroked his hair, kissed his temple, and held him. 

“…Thank you,” he whispered. Then he tipped you down and you let him. He kissed you, slow, tender, like you were sunlight and he hadn’t seen the sky in days.

When he finally pulled back, he glanced toward the window.

“…The rain stopped,” he said, almost in disbelief. You smiled, running a finger along his jaw. 

“Told you. You just needed to let someone hold you for a while.”

He smiled, really smiled, and leaned in for one more kiss.

“My heart listens to you more than it does me.”

Another day, another migraine as you would sometimes say. 

"Neuvi, you need a vacation."

He had meant to protest, he always did, but the look in your eyes had silenced him more effectively than any decree. It wasn’t disappointment or frustration. 

It was care. Concern. Love.

He sat at the edge of the bed, fingers absently tracing the letter you had slipped into his coat earlier. He unfolded it now, reading your familiar handwriting:

“You are allowed to rest, Love. You are allowed to be more than the Chief Justice. Let me take care of you.”

He closed his eyes.

For centuries, he had carried so much. 

Dignity. Duty. Distance. 

And yet you, gentle, persistent, loving you, had chipped away at his solitude like water to stone, reshaping him with kindness.

Perhaps...just this once...

He let out a slow breath. And then, deliberately, he stood, walking to the open balcony. 

The moon was dim tonight, and the streets were empty except the automatons guarding the city. With one smooth motion, he shifted, scales rippling over his skin, horns glinting, wings unfurling into the night air.

A dragon once more. It felt liberating despite only showing his half dragon form. 

And as he looked down at the palace below, a deep, low growl rose in his throat. He wanted to take you far away from this place. 

From politics. From judgment. From all the noise.

He wanted to keep you close. Closer than ever.

He took to the skies and took a deep breath.

Perhaps...a vacation has been long overdue. 

After months of court and chaos, Neuvillette finally, finally, listened to you.

You had never been so excited as you pulled out your notes and forgotten plans of just hanging out without work looming over your heads. Still, you wanted it to be relaxing for your dragon husband because you wanted this to be all about him! 

He deserves rest and you would make sure he gets spoiled! The first thing you did was just take him away from the palace and into the Fontaine wilderness, where it would just be you, him, and the sea.

What you didn’t expect was to see Neuvillette showing off in his half dragon form.

You watched as he shifted, wings unfurled, silver-blue scales gleaming in the sun, and you swore you saw him breathe for the first time in weeks. 

No courtroom. No robes. 

Just Neuvillette, in all his dragon majesty, curling his massive body around you in a protective sprawl. 

“You’re hovering,” you teased when he kept nuzzling you every time you moved an inch too far.

A low, rumbling growl vibrated through his chest. 

“You wandered out of sight for two minutes.”

“You sound like you were ready to drown someone.”

“I was.”

Each day, he softened. The weight on his shoulders lightened. 

You massaged the tension from his back, whispered reassurances into his neck, and watched him melt under your touch.

But as the days passed, something changed. His touches grew bolder. His gaze lingered longer.

At night, in human form again, he’d pull you close, hands trembling just slightly. 

“Tell me I’m allowed this,” he murmured once, voice rough and low as his fingers trailed your spine. 

“Tell me I can want you.”

“You’re allowed everything, Neuvi,” you whispered against his lips. “Especially me.”

He kissed you slowly, starting off with gentle kisses before turning desperate, with whispered promises.

By dawn, you lay tangled together beneath his draped wing. His breath is warm at your nape. His arm locked around your waist.

“You’re not letting go, are you?” you murmured, half-asleep.

A hum. 

“Never.”

You could say the same. 

The sky was streaked with pink when you tugged Neuvillette’s hand. 

“Beach walk,” you said. “Doctor’s orders.”

He let you lead him, fingers laced with yours, quiet as ever, but relaxed. Peaceful.

The sea air suited him. Personally, you liked that he was out of his “judge” outfit, and in a more shirt and pants. 

Then you spotted them.

“Otters!” you gasped, pointing excitedly at the group rolling around in the surf. One, in particular, caught your eye, blue-gray fur, an almost regal posture, and sharp eyes surveying the world.

You burst into laughter, as you quickly led Neuvillette to them. 

“Wait, look! That one looks just like you.” Neuvillette blinked. 

“You think I look like an otter?” You nodded as you looked back and forth. 

“Same dignified vibe. Same colours. Same mysterious energy. Very composed. Very you.”

He gave you the most bewildered expression. 

“I...see.”

You giggled and crouched near the water’s edge, where the otters now swarmed, squeaking little “kyu” noises as they playfully nuzzled you.

Neuvillette stayed behind, watching. Silent. Still.

One of the otters nestled into your lap, eyes closed in bliss. You cooed at it.

And he frowned.

“…They’re quite clingy,” he muttered, barely audible.

You looked up. 

“Are you… pouting?”

“I am not,” he said, a touch too quickly. 

“Merely observing. They seem rather… attached.”

You tilted your head, biting back a smile. 

“You are jealous.”

“I am not jealous of an otter,” he said stiffly, before stepping forward and sliding his hand into yours, gently pulling you up and into his side. 

You laughed, letting him pull you close. 

“Jealous much?”

“I prefer ‘protective.’” 

You smiled up at him. 

“Don’t worry. No amount of adorable otters could ever take your place.”

He exhaled slowly, brushing a hand through your hair, gaze softening. 

“Good.”

Still, you made him take photos with otters anyways. 

And now Neuvillette sees it all the time on your nightstand. 

While he judges it all the time, you know that Neuvillette could never be mad at otters forever.

One night, you lay on deck beside Neuvillette on a ship. The lakeside is quiet, with the moonlight catching in his eyes, stormy and somehow intense. 

What was he thinking about even on vacation?

His fingers traced your skin slowly, pausing at your neck.

“You always touch there,” you whispered.

He leaned in, brushing a kiss to the spot.

“It’s my favorite place,” he murmured. Then softer, with a hint of hesitation. 

“May I leave a mark?” Your breath hitched as he leaned over you, staring at you intently, making you feel like you were in the eyes of a dragon.

“A mark?” You asked, breathless. 

“A symbol. A promise.” His eyes didn’t waver. 

For a moment, you simply stared into his eyes, a little pensive. Neuvillette caught your hesitation but did not falter. 

“In dragonkind,” Neuvillette explained softly, “a mark is a symbol, but also a bond. One created from instinct, will, and power. When a dragon marks someone, it means they’ve chosen them as mates.”

“Mates?” You blinked, your heartbeat fluttering.

He nodded. “More than that. It’s a soul-deep tether. A dragon only marks once in their lifetime. Once we do… that bond cannot be undone. No matter time, distance, or circumstance, our hearts remain bound.”

Your lips parted slightly as you looked into his eyes, searching. 

“So…you can’t ever choose someone else?”

“No,” he murmured, “Even if you walked away, even if I never saw you again…I would remain yours. That is how dragons love. We don’t fall often. But when we do, it’s forever.”

You were silent for a moment, taking in the weight of his words. Then, with a soft smile, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his.

“Forever sounds nice.” You leaned back, exposing your neck to him. 

“I trust you.”

You heard him suck in a breath before he swallowed.

“I love you.” You widen your eyes in surprise, he had never said it so explicitly before, which made it all the more special.  

He kissed your neck, warmer this time, and whispered something ancient, words that shimmered like falling rain. Then, he bit down, making you shiver and gasp, but he held you close, making sure you felt comfortable yet safe in his arms. 

A pulse of hydro energy flowed through you, cool and comforting. You felt it settle, and when he pulled back, a glowing symbol remained, blue and silver, delicate yet powerful.

“It’s done.” He looked so relieved, content and satisfied before kissing the mark again. 

You touched it, awed. 

“It’s beautiful…”

“So are you,” he said, reverent. 

“It binds us. Now and always.” You met his gaze. 

“I was already yours.”

“As I am to you,” he said, pulling you close. “But now the world will know too.”

He kissed you then, deep and slow, as if sealing the bond with his very breath.

From that night on, the mark stayed. And every time Neuvillette saw it, his eyes would soften, and he’d kiss it again, like a quiet vow, Mine.

[yuuchama]

"My most regal liege! Why, he is the mightiest, most elegant, and breathtaking being in all the land. None would dare even dream to be on his level!"

"Sebek," Malleus warned, "that is enough."

"Yo, it's Hornton, the dudest of bros. Hails from Bro-ar Valley. Probably has a tail, but he's hiding it and won't show me. Mr. Haunts-my-garden-in-the-middle-of-the-night. I mistook a squirrel for you the other day."

"Ah, Prefect," Malleus greeted. "How you amuse me so. Do continue."

[gibbearish]

just saw on the hbomb subreddit that james somerton briefly reactivated his twitter and changed the name to agayraconteur, then 8 hrs later deleted it again because people were noticing, so. everyone who went all in on "he'll keep popping up again and again in new forms" cash your bets in now LMAO

edit: hey yall this post is very out of date but has been getting spikes of notes since the second apology video so i'm gonna be marking it unrebloggable