#neutral pronouns / 2nd person
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pockets-full-of-roses · 4 months ago
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Staring At You in a Room Full of Art
brief summary: regulus arcturus black would rather stare at your beautifully painted face than loads of artwork in that museum
[regulus black x reader; little to no use of y/n; just him thinking your attractive and drooling over you; modern AU; if i post this after the sunseeker one, it’ll be hilarious]
divider credits !!
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Regulus Arcturus Black loved going to museums. Especially art museums. As an artist, he would take weekends to study art and get better at his techniques. He’d change styles every time he found an artist he liked better, drawing to perfection.
Sometimes he’d need a break, going to the library to read up on his favorite genres. Regulus was balanced. Sometimes he and Pandora would go on “art dates” where they would pass around their sketchbooks every twenty minutes. Evan and Barty had joined once, but they kept drawing.. inappropriate things on the papers.
As a reward for helping Evan successfully put cat ears on Barty, the two of them (one reluctantly) gave Regulus a day pass of a new art museum that opened a couple months ago. He pretended that he wasn’t internally fangirling, and thanked them accordingly.
You? You absolutely loved art. Each painting had its own story to tell, strokes full of emotion and color. You had gotten a great paying job working for the museum as a tour guide. They had noticed how often you came to that since the grand opening, and couldn’t help but give you a job.
Of course, you were working a shift the day Regulus decided to use his day pass. Perfectly enough, he had stumbled across a sign on their website that read, “TOUR GUIDES AVAILABLE TO VISITORS,” and booked one of your sessions.
Needless to say, your breath was taken away from you in the instant he walked toward your group. You were conversing with some high school kids about your favorite exhibits and why, catching his stare from the doorway. You looked away, turning back to the kids in front of you. Your heart pounded faster when you realized he was coming toward you.
You checked your watch to keep yourself from staring. 11:21 AM it read. Nine more minutes. You were about to call out that there would be nine more minutes until the tour would start, but carefully (and beautifully) sculpted, slender hands brushed against your arm. A man, the same one from before, had just tapped you.
“Excuse me, sorry. Is this the tour for 11:30? Or am I in the wrong spot?”
“O…oh.. No, no! You’re in the right spot, don’t worry. I was just about to announce that actually.”
The man gave a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He had a French-sounding accent, simply amplifying how great he looked. You had to admit, this man was good looking.
Trying to spark some conversation, you nervously cleared your throat. “Is this your first time here? I haven’t seen you before.”
“Oh, yes. First time,” the man smiled politely, inclining his head ever so slightly toward you.
Taking the opportunity to earn a bigger paycheck, you quickly told him about other exhibits that would be mentioned in the tour and interactive gimmicks that he could find and use. The man simply nodded and smiled. You shared your name at the end of your vocal advertisement.
“That’s really interesting. I’ll be sure to enjoy it,” he nodded, deciding to share his name in response. “I’m Regulus Black, it’s a pleasure to meet such a kind tour guide. I’m quite the art lover.”
You laughed, sharing in his interest. “Me as well.”
The time simply went faster than ever, your watch signaling to start the tour. You wrapped things up with the extremely nice man — Regulus — and called everyone else over. “Everyone for the 11:30 tour, please follow me.”
As planned, the tour went off perfectly. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered as you felt Regulus’s eyes gazing at yours as you spoke your memorized script, a flutter hitting you in the stomach.
The art portion had to be your favorite part. Some of the visitors provided you with their insight on some of the paintings after your public inquiry. Regulus had been asking many questions, always looking at a painting whenever you glanced his way.
Afterwards, you dropped everyone near the beginning, wishing a happy day to all of the visitors. The man you had spoken to before lingered. Regulus.
“Another question for me Regulus?” you asked politely.
“Erm.. yes. I hope you aren’t too.. weirded out by the question. You seem to share quite a lot of interests with me and I was hoping if I could get your number? Friends or whatever..” he seemed embarrassed, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced away.
You smiled. “I would love that.”
After a quick exchange of phones and a click of a photo, you were acquainted. “I hope to talk to you soon,” he spoke again, bidding you goodbye.
As Regulus walked away, he grinned in triumph. Thank the gods for his love of museums.
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credit for dividers (above) made my @saradika-graphics . all writing by pockets full of roses. please do not repost without permission. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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discount--dracula · 1 year ago
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appreciation post for you mfs who's pronouns are widely not considered "grammatically correct" by your main language. you're cool af keep being you kisses you kisses you kisses you kisses yo
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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 2 years ago
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Idk what the hell just happened but I think I made a sequel/prequel to that Ben Hanscom one shot I did forever ago,,, so anybody interested ?
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formula-nyoom · 7 months ago
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Rookie Reflections | LS2
Platonic! Logan Sargent x Rookie!Reader
Summary: Being the only new addition to the grid, it may seem intimidating to try and introduce yourself to the other drivers. Logan remembers exactly what it's like to be the new rookie and doesn't want a repeat of what happened to him to happen to anyone else.
A/N: Pronouns weren’t specified so I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible. I still haven’t decided if I want to write in 2nd or 3rd person, it really depends on the fic/request. Previous reader inserts I have written have been done in 2nd person so I defaulted to that with this fic, but do let me know which one you prefer. Logan, my favorite driver, I’m glad my first request is for him. Also I have no hate towards Daniel, it just made a lot more sense to me for the reader to take his seat. 
Silly season didn’t come with a lot of shake ups like people expected it to. The only team to switch up their driver line up for the upcoming season was RB, with Daniel being replaced by the newest Formula 2 champion after not delivering the results Red Bull had wanted from him.
You had met Yuki for the first time during the car launch before pre-season testing, but with all the cameras, interviews, and excitement surrounding the new car launch, you were unable to find the time to properly get to know each other. You had hoped to get a chance to maybe sit down with Yuki and get to know your new teammate, but now in Bahrain with all the drivers in one place it seemed that all of them had already split off into their pre-established friend groups that had been built up over years of racing alongside each other, Yuki included. 
That’s the thing with being the only new driver for the season: All the other drivers already knew each other well enough that you felt too intimidated to approach any of them. Going to Formula 2 where you knew almost all the drivers to Formula 1 where you knew no one, it was like being the new kid at school. And that seemed even more evident during the pre-season photoshoot. 
Yuki still had some last bits of data to go over with his engineer so you arrived at the photoshoot without your teammate. While you did arrive early, most of the drivers were already there, either talking with each other or members of their team. A few gave you curious glances, maybe an awkward smile or two, but none felt the need to approach. Not wanting to risk bothering anyone, you decided to find a spot secluded from the various groups of people while you waited for either Yuki to show up or for the photoshoot to start. Maybe when the photographer started to position people for the photos, you could possibly strike up a conversation with whoever was placed near you. But for now, you felt content standing off to the side where no one would really approach you. Or so you thought.
Logan had forgotten something in the Williams garage, making him arrive at the photoshoot after Alex. And while he could have walked over to his teammate, who was currently chatting with George, he noticed you standing off to the side. You were away from everyone to where you wouldn’t get in the way as you scrolled through your phone.
Logan knows that move. He did it many times during his rookie season because of how out of place he felt. But he also wasn’t the only rookie during his season, unlike you who was the only new person to the grid. He can probably guess how nervous or out of place you may seem. Logan knows that feeling. He hates that feeling and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. 
Maybe that’s why he had decided to approach you. Or maybe it was because he didn’t have anyone else to talk to since Alex was busy talking to George, and Oscar was busy talking to Lando. Either way, he thought it was a good idea to introduce himself.
 “Hey,” Logan said, getting your attention. “You’re the new RB driver, right?”
Logan already knew the answer to that question, but he thought that was a better question to ask than pointing out the fact that you’re the new rookie. 
 “Yea, I am.” You said. Guess you were wrong about people not approaching you as you looked at the man standing before you.  
“I’m Logan.” He said, holding out his hand for you to shake. You already knew his name before he introduced himself. Hell, you knew all drivers names on the grid but that was another intimidating reason why you hadn’t tried to approach anyone. 
 “I’m (Y/N).” You said, shaking Logan’s hand. 
“So, are you excited for the upcoming season?” Logan asked. 
 “Yea. The car seems to be a good contender with the testing we’ve done so far. Hopefully I’ll be able to score some points by the end of the season.”
 “What makes you think you won’t get points at the beginning?” Logan asked.
“Well I am the rookie this season. I’m still getting used to the car, it’s a huge difference from the F2 car I was driving last year. Plus everyone else has been racing longer than I have. It's gonna take me a while to catch up.” You explained.
 “Oh come on, don’t doubt yourself this early. Trust me, it doesn’t help.” Logan said. You shrugged.
“I guess you’re right. I mean, I’m gonna try my best no matter what, but the highest I can see myself getting for the first race is P15.” You told him.
 “That’s a good start. “ Logan said. He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The two of you ended up talking about what you both did over the winter break and your expectations for the season until the photographer called for the photoshoot to start. You hadn’t even realized Yuki had arrived until the photographer positioned you two next to each other.
 “I saw you and Logan talking earlier. I hope it was a good conversation.” He whispered as you waited for the photographer to take a picture.
“He was just introducing himself. We talked about our expectations for the season.” You told him. Yuki smiled a bit.
 “Logan’s always been nice. I’m glad you’re getting to know some of the other drivers.”
~~~
“Come on Yuki, pick up!” You mumbled as the call went to voicemail again. After pre-season testing had wrapped up, you had finally managed to get to know Yuki by going out to get dinner together with the rest of the team. He had promised that the two of you would walk together through the paddock on the first day of the season, but after arriving at the entrance you saw no sign of your teammate. And the fact that he wasn’t answering his phone didn’t help either. But looking around towards all the cars pulling in towards the entrance, you did however see Logan arriving.
 “Logan!” You quickly walked over to him as he got closer to the entrance.
“Hey. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with your team?” He asked, noticing the lack of anyone from RB with you.
 “Well me and Yuki were supposed to walk in together, but I can’t find him anywhere and he’s not answering my calls.” You said. You looked past the turnstiles at the entrance to the paddock. “I don’t really want to walk in by myself.”
 “Do you want me to walk in with you?” Logan asked. You looked back at him.
“If it’s not too much to ask.” You said. Logan just shook his head and smiled.
 “It’s no bother.” He said. He gently ushered you towards the entrance and the two of you walked through. It was an understatement to say that you were nervous to greet the cheering fans that stood by the barriers with things to sign. But knowing that Logan was right next you signing things as well and taking pictures with fans made you less nervous. You even got to take some pictures with him and fans as well. 
 “If I wore all these friendship bracelets in the car, I think I would add an extra pound.” You joked as the two of you walked past the various team garages.
“Soon you’re gonna end up having a full storage closet at your house just full of stuff that fans have given you.” Logan said. You smiled at that idea.
 “Hopefully I won’t develop carpal tunnel from all the stuff I’m gonna have to sign over the year.” Good thing being a Formula 1 driver consists more of driving cars than signing things.” 
 “You say that now, but just wait until the RB merchandise team sits you down in a room filled with driver cards you have to sign. Your wrist is going to be so sore afterwards.” Logan said. You let out a chuckle. 
 “(Y/N)!” You turned to see Yuki, coming from the RB hospitality, running over to the two of you. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry. They put me in the press conference at the last minute. I had to come early.” Yuki explained.
 “It’s ok Yuki. Logan walked in with me.” You said. You turned back to Logan. “Thank you, by the way. I should probably go see my team.”
“Like I said, it was no bother. I’d be happy to walk the paddock with you anytime.” He said. “I’ll see you two on the track.”
He waved goodbye and then headed to the William’s garage as you headed with Yuki back to the RB hospitality to get ready for the upcoming practice sessions. 
~~~
“Ok (Y/N). We’ve been knocked out of Q1. You are P17.” Your race engineer said through the radio as the qualifying session ended and you slowed your car down for a cool down lap. 
 “Not the result I had hoped for, but it’s something I can improve upon. Did Yuki make it to Q2?” You asked, making your way into the pit lane.
 “Yes, Yuki did make it into Q2.” Your engineer said. 
“That’s good. Hope he can make it into Q3.” You pulled into your designated pitlane and flipped up your visor to let some air into your helmet as the pit crew pulled your car into the garage. 
After changing out of your race suit and fireproofs, you put on a pair of headphones and joined the crew in watching Q2. You were happy to see that Logan made it into Q2 as well, and was secretly hoping he would make it into Q3 along with Yuki. Both of them did good laps during Q2 but Yuki unfortunately was only able to place P11. Logan barely managed to get by into Q3, but couldn’t place any higher and ended up in front of your teammate, placing P10 for tomorrow’s race. After congratulating Yuki on his placement, you left the RB garage to go look for Logan to do the same thing. You didn’t have to look far, as the American driver was exiting the William’s garage as you approached.
“Hey, nice driving today!” You said, giving Logan’s shoulder a congratulatory pat. 
 “Thanks. I’m shocked I was able to make it into Q3. I thought I was going to get knocked out in Q2, I didn’t expect Lance to get his lap time deleted.” Logan said. “Where’d you place?”
 “P17. I wasn’t able to gain enough speed on my last lap to get myself to a higher placement.” You said. “But that’s ok. I just need to overtake the 7 cars in front of me to get to P10 and get into the points. How hard can that be?”
You laughed, your last sentence meaning to be a joke. Logan let out a small chuckle, but he was taking what you said seriously.
 “I think you can do it. But only do it after I’ve overtaken a couple cars myself. I’d also like to get some points during the race.” He said.
 “Deal!” 
~~~
It was officially race day and your nerves seemed to be bouncing as fast as the cars that would be on track soon. You had felt confident throughout the week, being on the track and going over data with the team. But with the race starting in a couple hours, the fact that you were about to debut in your first Formula One race was starting to become very real. 
 “You squeeze that water bottle any tighter, it’s gonna explode.” You were brought out of your spiraling thoughts by Logan as he approached you from the side. Looking down, you did see that the water bottle you were holding was almost ready to burst from the steel grip you had on it.
 “Sorry, I’m just thinking about the race today.” You said, loosening your grip on the bottle.
 In a similar scenario to pre-season testing, the two of you were waiting to start the drivers parade.
 “It’s ok to be nervous about your first race. Every driver is.” He said.
“What if I crash the car?” You asked. Logan shook his head.
 “You won’t.”
“What if I can’t overtake any cars and finish last?”
 “You won’t finish last.”
“What if-”
 “Hey.” Logan placed his hands on your shoulders and made you look at him. “You’re going to be fine. You drove well during testing and practice. You can overtake the cars in front of you. And even if you finish last, so what? It’s your first race. You’re going to make mistakes and that’s ok.” Logan said. His hands on your shoulder and the speech he just gave you seemed to steel your nervous a bit as you took in what he said. 
 “Just try to have fun. Can you promise me that?” Logan asked. He held up his pinkie and you almost laughed at the childlike implications. But the serious look on Logan’s face stopped you.  You linked your pinkie with his and nodded.
 “I promise.”
The two of you ended up staying next to each other during the drivers parade, waving to fans as the truck drove by. Interviews were also happening during the parade, and with you being the new rookie, you had to be interviewed.
“So (Y/N), you're about to make your Formula 1 debut in your first Formula 1 race. How are you feeling?” The interviewer asked.
 “I’m both very nervous and very excited. I’m starting at the back of the grid, but I’m gonna try to do my best.” You said.
“I know, with being the newest addition to the grid, you may feel like you stand out. Besides your teammate Yuki, have there been any other drivers that you’ve gotten to know during pre-season testing or this weekend?”.
 “Logan actually introduced himself to me during pre-season testing and we’ve gotten to know each other a bit.” You told the interviewer. “It feels a bit intimidating being surrounded by these great drivers that I’ve always hoped to have a chance to drive alongside, so I’m really grateful to Logan for being someone on the grid that I can talk to and get to know, besides Yuki of course.”
 “Have you guys talked about anything in particular? Any expectations for your first race?”
“Logan actually gave me a really good pep talk before the drivers parade. It really helped calm my nerves down a bit. I’m gonna take Logan’s advice and try to have fun.” You said with a smile. The interviewer thanked you for your time and moved on to interview a different driver as you made your way back over to Logan. After waving to a bunch of fans, the parade concluded and you and the rest of the drivers got off the truck.
“What are you going to do during this race?” Logan asked you before the two of you departed to get ready for the race.
 “Have fun!” You said. 
“That’s right.” He gave your shoulder a reassuring pat and left for the William’s garage while you headed back to RB, your nerves seemingly having lessened. 
Logan’s pep talk seemed to be exactly what you needed. You ended up finishing the race in P11, just out of the points but only two spots behind Yuki. 
 “(Y/N) that was a fantastic first race! Well done!” Your engineer's voice came through the radio as you waved while driving around the track.
 “Oh my god! Thank you so much! That was so much fun! I couldn’t have done it without you or the team!” You said enthusiastically as you pulled into parc ferme. You sat in the car for a couple seconds, taking in the feeling of making it through your first Formula One race. Then, you took the wheel out and stepped out of the car.
Some of the pit crew workers gave you pats on the back or the shoulder, congratulating you on making it through your first race. As your eyes scanned the pit lane, looking for your team, they landed on the familiar America-decorated helmet of Logan.
 “Logan!” You called as you jogged over to him. His eyes lit up at your approach and met you halfway.
 “Nice one champ! P11 on debut!” He said, raising his hand for a high five before bringing you in for a brief congratulatory hug. 
 “I was so close to getting into points but I couldn’t catch up. You drove amazingly though! Congrats on P5!” You told him.
 “Hey, don’t put yourself down for being “just” out of the points. Next race, you and I are going to be in the top 10.” He said. “Did you have fun?”
 “Yea!” You exclaimed. Both your smiles seemed to grow.
“I told you! Come on, let’s go get weighed and you can tell me everything about the race.” Logan slung his arm over your shoulder as he led you over to the weigh stations. 
The two of you spent the rest of the night recounting each of your guys' events of the race, every overtake and every mistake either of you made. Eventually exhaustion started to hit both of you and the two of you decided to head back to your hotel rooms.
“Thank you.” You said to Logan as you stood infront of your room after Logan offered to walk you back.
 “For what?” He asked. 
“For introducing yourself to me during pre-season testing. I honestly didn’t think I would be able to get to know anyone on the grid this season. All the other drivers seem to know each other really well or are just really intimidating.” You said, fidgeting with your fingers for a bit before looking back up at him “But I’m really glad to say that you're the first friend I’ve made on the grid.”
Logan’s smile seemed to lower and you grew concerned. But he noticed this and quickly change his expression to reassurance.
 “I know how hard it is to make friends in this sport and I also know how isolating it can be. I didn’t want what happened in my rookie season to happen to you.” He told you. “I’m glad that you’re my friend too.”
You smiled, touched by what he said and happy that he considered you a friend as well. You held up your pinkie towards him.
 “Promise that we’ll both be in the points next race?”
He linked your pinkie with his and matched your smile.
 “I promise.”
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luvrbug · 1 year ago
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Honkai Star Rail Men ; where do they lie on the pathetic man scale?
includes ; Sampo, Welt, Jing Yuan
A/N ; sorry everyone ive been playing hsr, and it has COMPLETELY captivated me. i will maybe write about one piece more buuuut I cant be too sure :[ i change like the wind sorry guys. also my first time writing in like Months so apologies if this is poopy
Warnings; literally the smallest amount of spice, no allusion to sex. reader is not the trailblazer, Gender neutral reader with 2nd person pronouns
«────────«⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅»────────»
Sampo Koski
Sampo is such a failboy. it's not even funny. He embodies a pathetic man.
You get word of Sampo scamming someone once again; and to make it even worse, it was the kids that literally saved the entire planet.
So, you sentenced Sampo to a week of sleeping on the couch, which landed you in this unsightly situation.
"Baby, please, you know i didn't really mean to make them do my work," he pleads, grabbing your leg and squishing his face into your stomach. "I had urgent business to attend to somewhere.. else in the mine,"
Sighing, you run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Sampo begins to rise, hoping that he's swayed your iron heart, until-
"Two Weeks on the couch,"
"Baby!"
«────────«⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅»────────»
Welt Yang
Out of all the men on this list, I'd say Welt is the least pathetic man. He has fatherhood skills and absolutely does his half of the chores.
... But he still is completely whipped for you.
Welt has never forgotten an anniversary. Without fail, he brings the biggest boquet of flowers, plans the best date night, and manages to keep your little troop of mischief makers pacified for the night.
So, when this year's anniversary rolls around, and nothing has happened yet, you begin to worry.
Did he want you to plan the events today? Did you miss some subliminal messaging? Are you losing your spark?? Is he-
"Ah, there you are," Welt's voice alone is enough to completely silence any rebellious thoughts running around.
"I was starting to get worried, i wouldn't want your surprise to get cold," You perk up instantly at the mention of a present, quickly gathering the book on and gold quality black tea you'd bought a few weeks prior.
Welt pulls out.. your favorite dessert from your favorite bakery on your homeworld. That is thousands of lightyears away. "I managed to understand enough about this dessert from your stories, and i managed to make something close to it with my powers and a little help from Himeko,"
You practically launch yourself at him, covering his face with kisses. Best anniversary ever.
«────────«⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅»────────»
Jing Yuan
In the middle of the pathetic scale. Proper, courteous, and flirtatious, but also the most pathetic, clingy man ever when you're alone.
It's Saturday morning, the sun is shining, you have a romantic lunch reservation in an hour, and Jing Yuan is refusing to allow you out of bed.
"Honey, we have to get up or we'll miss our reservation. You know how hard it is to get on their waiting list, especially for the lunchtime rush," You whine, attempting to wriggle out of his hold.
Jing Yuan simply squeezes you tighter, making a muffled "hmmph" into your stomach. "Your cooking is better anyway," he mumbles, stretching and yawning not unlike mimi.
You huff, lying back in bed with your eyebrows scrunched. "I'm not going to cook for a week unless you get up and we make it there on time,"
This finally gets Jing Yuan off the bed and rummaging through his closet. "Well, hurry up, we wouldn't want to be late,"
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wordstome · 1 year ago
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kingdom come - iii
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king König x princess & assassin reader
2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, romance, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kind of age gap because König has been king for a good chunk of time but it's not really much of a factor, fantasy/medieval setting
7.7k words
tw: explicit smut, animal death, mentions of child death, violence, mild body horror, ableist language (use of the word "cripple")
[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]
"I'm not going to sleep with you." -quote from woman who is about to sleep with him
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There’s a portrait of a woman in your room.
Of course, König offered to have it removed or replaced, but you’ve procrastinated the decision because you never thought you would be here long enough for it to matter. Yet here you are, staring up at this lovely young woman on the wall.
You tilt your head, studying her. Her expression is neutral, almost pensive, but the artist captured a playful sparkle in her eyes, as if she’s keeping some sweet secret.
It’s the first queen, of course. König’s first wife. The one who died many years ago. It’s strange that after so long, he hasn’t gotten rid of the portrait.
What happened to you? you wonder. If someone had asked what you thought when you first arrived here, you would have said, without hesitation, that König had her killed. All your life, you had been taught that he and his father were evil, unfeeling tyrants. Now, this conviction has wavered.
You keep trying to tell yourself that it’s ridiculous, to be thinking better of his character. You only ever wanted to know him better to kill him. But the more you understand about what makes him tick, the less you think that he would do such a thing. Perhaps it’s true, then, that she died in childbirth.
Your eyes travel all over the portrait, poring over every detail of her features. Did you know him? Did you understand him? Did you love him?
Did he love you?
What did that feel like?
“Good. You haven’t left yet.” Calliope comes into the room, bustling with energy even before the sun comes up. You don’t know how she does it.
“We’re about to.”
“That’s why I’m here.” You notice she’s wearing gloves, but more importantly, she’s holding a necklace: a silvery chain with a small, intricate pendant. Vine-shaped pieces of metal hold a white, almost clear jewel in place, its various facets reflecting the candlelight in vivid colors.
“Jewelry? I’m going to be living in the woods for the next few weeks,” you tease as she lowers the necklace over your head. It does look quite durable, but you’re not exactly dressing for a costume ball here.
“Consider it a reminder that I await your safe return,” Calliope responds, securing the necklace behind your neck. “Look at it and remember me. You’re not to do anything reckless out there, am I understood?”
“Understood.” You give her a soft smile as she arranges the necklace on your collarbones. You’re grateful for the gift: though she can’t come with you, a small piece of her will always remain with you.
“Good. And don’t let that handsome husband of yours distract you and get yourself killed.”
“Calliope! What happened to ‘something’s not right with him’?”
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t handsome!”
You snort and roll your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face.
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You used to think that living in König’s home already exposed you to an exhausting amount of the man. As it turns out, going on a journey with him is even worse.
There’s nobody else to talk to, nowhere to run or put distance between you two when he frustrates you. It’s not so bad for the first few days: the towns surrounding the capital are still populated enough to provide some respite from him. But once the two of you have made your way outside the bounds of civilization, it doesn’t take long for things to become stilted and awkward.
“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the last town.”
“I don’t feel talkative.”
“Really? I’m out of my mind with boredom right now. Come, you’re not in the mood to get to know each other a little?”
You give him a look. “What else is there to know? I’ve lived with you for several months.”
“But we don’t talk.” König nudges his horse to walk closer to yours. König is such a large man, his horse is massive too: comically so, next to your normal one. You let out a sigh.
“There’s nothing to know about me.”
“I doubt that. All I know about you is you’re a princess trained to be an assassin. ‘Your whole life’, according to yourself,” he says with a touch of mocking.
You purse your lips, determined not to let him get under your skin. “There’s nothing else to know.”
“Truly? Nothing about what you like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like…your favorite food. Or hobby.”
“Hobby? …I suppose I spend a lot of time at target practice.”
“That’s not a hobby.”
“It’s relaxing to hone my skills.”
He gives you an amused look. “You remind me of myself as a young man.”
Something about that irks you. “We’re nothing alike.”
“I used to have the same mindset as you, at least. I held one objective in my mind and didn’t seek purpose outside of it.”
“I…”
As much as you loathe to admit it, he’s right. You have been focused on one objective your whole life. If you probe deeper, you can’t remember having any friends outside of Calliope, nor any interests outside of the curriculum your father set for you. “It wasn’t as bleak as you seem to think it was.”
“Oh?”
“It’s not like I never had fun. I had my own way of finding it.”
“Such as?”
“Well, when my training progress stalled, I’d be sent to bed without dinner. Naturally. I eventually learned how to climb out of my window at night and go foraging in the woods for something to eat.” A smile curls your lips as you reminisce. “Eventually I even worked my way up to hunting—little things, like squirrels. I spent many a cozy little evening cooking for myself over a fire.”
You turn to find an abject look of horror on König face. “What? What’s wrong? Is there danger?” You turn around to scan your surroundings, but nothing immediately jumps out at you.
“No. No danger. I just…he sent you to bed with an empty stomach so many times you learned how to crawl out of your room and hunt squirrels to eat?”
You blink at him. “You’ve never had squirrel before?”
He looks scandalized. “Of course I have! That is not the issue with what you just said.”
You shrug. “It was important discipline. Besides, it gave me hunting experience at a young age. Squirrels are hard to skin, but I could do it in twelve seconds flat if you gave me one now.”
König looks like he wants to say more, but instead he looks up at the sky. “We should make camp soon.”
“Is it that time already?”
“It needs to be set up before it gets dark. We should also start hunting while it’s light out—not all of us can catch things in the dark, squirrel-girl.”
“Hey!”
Later, you’re both chewing on a rabbit when he speaks.
“You know, when you said you wanted to travel with me, I was quite concerned.”
“Yes, I know. You didn’t think I was capable of handling myself.”
“Not just that. I was worried you would be…unaccustomed to living rough.”
“You thought I would be a spoiled princess.”
“I wouldn’t have put it that way, but yes.”
You snort. “Well, now you know. I can handle myself in the outdoors.” You toss the rabbit bones you’ve just picked clean into a small hole dug into the dirt. When you leave, you’ll cover it with dirt to prevent predators from smelling the remains and following you on your journey.
“You want the other leg?” you ask. König seems startled, for some reason.
“You caught this one.”
“Yes, but you’re bigger than me. You need the food.” You reach up to pluck a leaf from a nearby tree and wipe your hands. Rabbits sure are greasy…
There’s a strange look in König’s eye as he regards you. You raise an eyebrow at him in response. “What?”
“…nothing.” He reaches for the rabbit while you shrug and walk off to find some water. The back of your neck prickles as you go, as if his stare is physically touching you.
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You can’t stand to be near him nowadays, and you don’t know why.
Of course, you have no choice but to. There’s a tension that feels weighty, forbidden. You know he can tell, because he’s been more cautious around you, giving you as much space as he can afford to. Somehow, that irritates you even more.
Tonight, the two of you are camping in a dense, thick part of the forest not far from a road. It’s quiet, secluded: even the usual soundscape of ambient animal noises is silent.
The fire crackles and pops as you stare into the flames, as if you’ll find any answers in it. Instead, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as König returns from washing himself in a nearby stream, approaching you from behind.
“This won’t work if you’re constantly upset with me for some unknown reason.”
You don’t turn to look at him, though some invisible force compels you. “Why? Because it makes you uncomfortable?”
“I’m worried about your comfort too, you know. If you just told me what I’ve done wrong, then we can resolve it before it breeds resentment.”
“I’m just stressed.” Everything he does or says seems to irritate you nowadays, but you know in your heart of hearts that it’s not his fault. It’s your own problem—you assume camping outdoors for so long has taken its toll on your psyche.
He frowns at you, but doesn’t pry any further. You can’t help but watch as he walks around to the other side of the fire, drying his hair with his shirt. God, he is a work of art: all chiseled muscles and glowing skin. Your eyes travel down his torso, drawn by the line of his abs, down to the happy trail leading to the slightly askew waist of his trousers.
“You’re drooling, princess.”
Your eyes snap back up to his face. His eyes are dancing with mirth as he realizes he’s just caught you ogling him. You make a face at him, but it only makes him laugh. “Was not.”
“Incorrect answer. You should have attempted to strike at my ego. Now I know you were looking.”
“I think I’m just being driven mad by spending so much time alone with you in the woods.”
“I know several ways to drive you mad, sweetling.”
You slouch against a tree, your face hot—and not from the fire. In a blink, he’s standing before you, with a gleeful expression on his face like he’s just discovered a cure for dropsy.
“I know what’s making you sour as vinegar. You need to be fucked.”
You bury your face in your hands, unable to look at him. “I thought we had moved past this,” you groan, trying to ignore your rapidly quickening heartbeat.
“What, your ever-growing carnal lust for me?”
“You being a pervert.”
“I’ve never made a secret of it. You, however…” You suck in a startled breath as he leans down, trapping you against the tree just like he had the day you sparred with him. “You’ve been denying yourself.”
Your breath is ragged as he looks you in the eye, the tension between the two of you as taut as a bowstring. A familiar sense of panic rises in you, the same way you feel every time he’s close to you like this. Before, you thought it was because it felt dangerous to be so close to your enemy. Now, you’re second-guessing yourself.
“So what if I have?” you mumble.
“There’s an easy way to fix that.”
“…The last time you had me in this position, you were threatening me.”
He tilts his head slightly, a wicked gleam in his eye. “You don’t feel threatened now?”
You don’t respond immediately, and heavens forbid, he takes it as hesitancy, his demeanor instantly transforming. “One word. One word, and we will never speak of this again. But if you tell me you want this, I will fuck you senseless.”
“Yes,” you whisper, and his lips on are on yours.
It’s a strange sensation, considering half of your mouth is pressed against the cold, smooth surface of his mask. You don’t even ask him about removing it—it’s become a part of him in your mind. And maybe part of you even finds the mystery of it alluring.
You all but melt into the kiss, against him. It’s different, everything is different than that first awkward kiss from when you were younger. It makes you ache, makes you long for him in a way you’ve never wanted someone before.
You have to separate to breathe, but your reluctance to break apart from him is clear by the way you chase his face with yours. He laughs at you, but it’s not condescending at all. It settles in your chest, warm like honey.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you murmur.
“Luckily for you, you’re in good hands.” It’s the cockiness in his voice that does you in, what makes you let go and give yourself over to him.
You feel flustered, awkward, and like the least desirable creature on earth, but he looks at you like he wants to devour you. Like there’s nothing else he wants more than to have you right now.
“You can trust me,” he says softly. You try to respond, but suddenly find you’ve gone mute. All you can manage is a small nod.
To your surprise, he lowers his mouth to your neck. You gasp, a full-body shiver running through you as he kisses you there, sucking and nipping at you as he goes. “W-wait, I’m—”
“Sensitive? I can tell.” You squeak as he continues to lavish you with attention, his fingers trailing down the front of your torso to undo your pants. His movements are deliberate but slow, giving you plenty of opportunity to stop him. But of course, you don’t.
You let out a quick little breath as he finds his way to your pussy, his deep chuckle reverberating against your throat. “You’re so wet…did I do that to you, liebling?”
You’re about to respond, but instead let out a sharp gasp as he dips a finger into your pussy. “How are you ever going to take me into this tight little hole of yours…” he taunts.
Oh, God, you hadn’t even thought about that. Your mind flashes back to your wedding night, and the first time you tried to kill him. You had mostly been shocked by his audacity, but only now do you recall how big he had felt between your thighs.
He’s gentle with you at first, patiently stretching you open as you whine and beg in his arms. You just about sob when he finally pays your clit attention, circling it with his thumb, and in what seems like no time at all, you’re cumming, hard.
“That didn’t take long at all,” he says with that awful smirk of his.
“Th-that’s not fair,” you stammer. “You know…”
“I’m only teasing you.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead as you come down, shivering with pleasure.
He makes you cum twice with just his hand. Your legs are trembling by the time the two of you properly get undressed. You’re soft and pliable, helpless putty in his hands as he lines the tip of his cock at your entrance.
“Ready, liebe?” he asks.
“That is not going to fit,” you say, eyes wide and fearful. There’s absolutely no way, you think, staring down the absurdly thick and long monster between his legs.
“Trust me, remember? We’ll take it slow,” he reassures you. You bite your lip and nod, giving him the go-ahead to sink into you.
Instantly, you realize that no matter how well König could have prepared you, there was no chance that it would have been enough to ready you for the stretch of him. You feel like you can hardly breathe as he splits you in half with his cock, your mouth dropping open in a wordless cry.
“Fuck, you are tight,” he groans, but he keeps his promise to go slow, feeding himself inch by inch inside you until he’s sitting snug up against your cervix.
The two of you stay there, suspended in a moment in time, connected to each other in the most intimate way two people can be. It makes your head spin, makes you dizzy with the sensation of his body pressed against yours.
You nod, and he starts to move.
If you had thought before that his fingers felt good inside you, then his cock is something else. The delicious stretch of him is almost electrifying, and you wonder how you went all your life without it.
All you can do is let him take control—you don’t have the presence mind to do anything but hold onto him, gasping and moaning. He’s all around you, above you, inside you, and it feels like nothing else in the world matters, or that there is a world other than König, König, König.
Your third orgasm surprises you, waves of pleasure flowing through you as you cry out, your pussy sucking him in as if it wants him to stay inside forever. That’s what seemingly pushes him over the edge too, a string of expletives bursting from him as he floods you with his cum.
You’re limp and weak, all but purring as he shifts to lay next to you and pulls you into his chest.
“You are sweet when underneath me like this,” he purrs.
You swat him in the chest, but it must feel no heavier than being hit by a branch, because he just laughs.
“There’s no reason to be shy now. I’ve seen everything at this point.” You pout at him—something that only seems to bring him delight, because he pulls you in for a kiss.
“This isn’t how I wanted to take you the first time,” he says, a hint of shame in his tone.
Your heart twinges with affection. This isn’t how you imagined your first time, either, but the idea of him wanting you so badly he thought about it beforehand, fantasized about it even…“I’ve slept in trees before, this is nothing,” you reassure him.
He shoots you a concerned look. “You continue to share alarming events from your childhood.”
You sleep together that night, curled up against him with your legs tangled with his. He falls asleep first, the slight rumble of his chest as he sleeps against your cheek. You lay awake a little while longer, watching him, breathing him in. Now, you have no choice but to be confronted with the truth that you’ve been refusing to acknowledge this whole time.
You don’t hate him anymore. You don’t even dislike him now. And you certainly don’t want to kill him.
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On one hand, things are easier. Crossing the line feels more like having torn down a wall, with no more need for pretense. On the other, König is somehow even more insufferable than before. Or perhaps insatiable is a better word for it. You go from having daily sexual tension with him to daily sex, period.
It’s like the floodgates have opened. He’s always loved to tease you, but it gets a hundred times worse now that he knows just how to make your cheeks feel warm.
“I was thinking…” he muses one night as you cuddle by the fire. “You may have to start riding on my horse.”
“Don’t I already do that?” you ask, sleepily playing with his hair.
He snorts. “Your susceptibility to my corrupting influence is truly something to marvel at.”
“You’ve been enacting psychological warfare on me for months.”
“Anyhow, as I was saying.”
“Your horse is quite large, but I don’t think it could handle me astride it as well.”
“Well. Certainly something else that’s large could handle that…”
You sigh. “Get to the point.”
“It’s becoming quite distracting, watching you moving up and down with the horse’s stride.”
“I cannot believe you. Innuendos twice in a row?”
“This is a legitimate grievance!”
“Riding on your horse would not fix the problem. Unless you plan for me to sit behind you in the saddle, which I refuse to do.”
“You’re no fun.”
You lean forward to kiss the corner of his mouth instead of responding.
Your newfound…activity, however pleasingly distracting, can’t eclipse what comes next.
The mood is somber as you arrive in the village: it’s a quiet, sleepy place, just a scattering of simple houses dotting rolling hills and one singular street lined with buildings in the center of it all.
In sharp contrast to his playful, almost jubilant mood on the road with you, König instantly snaps into his authoritative persona. It especially suits him when he puts on the hood: it makes him seem that much more intimidating and threatening. Almost inhuman.
The first order of business is to hold counsel with what passes for the leader in this tiny village: a local merchant patriarch. He’s a sturdy man in his older years, face lined with both wrinkles and scars. He must have been quite the warrior when he was young: you can tell by the way he carries himself.
He gives both of you the lay of the land, and it’s a grim predicament indeed. Herding the livestock is a job most often given to the children, as it’s a relatively safe job with less skill required than the tasks the adults take care of. That’s changed, of course, with the arrival of the beast a few weeks ago. He confirms the most gruesome details that have been brought before König by previous messengers, and it turns your stomach just to imagine it. Those poor children…
The two of you set off early the next morning, with directions from an experienced hunter who had been keeping track of the beast and reporting its movements. At first, it feels normal: just another walk in the woods with König. The solemn silence between the two of you serves as a stark reminder that this isn’t like normal—followed promptly by increasing signs of a presence in the woods. Snapped branches, giant pawprints, and worse, streaks of blood.
Then you break though into a clearing, and your blood runs cold.
The beast before you could only be described as a wolf for lack of a better descriptor. It’s monstrously large, being König’s height and half again, with all of its proportions just slightly wrong: its legs scrawny and just slightly too long for its body, the snout lean and far too sharp to fit the rest of its head. Dried old blood crusted into the fur of its muzzle and chest belies the savagery of the creature, even streaking onto the fur along its neck. And the most obvious tell-tale sign of an unnatural creature is that fur: a dark, rusty blue that shifts with impossible pinpricks of light, like the night sky is ensnared in this feral animal’s coat.
You heard its growl before you saw it. But now when it lays eyes on you and König, it opens its snout and…speaks.
“What do we have here?” The voice comes out as a broken, reedy croak, as if stretching vocal cords that haven’t been used in a long time.
Something about it raises your hackles, like your body’s responding to an ancient, ingrained fear. Fae.
“Don’t listen to anything it says.” König’s voice is suddenly soft, dangerous. “None of it is trustworthy.” Slowly, deliberately, his hand moves to his back and draws his sword.
“Ah, the boy king,” hisses the beast. “You simply couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“You’re eating my subjects,” König responds. Your eyes flit to where his hand tightens its grip on his sword. “This is not personal.”
“But it always is, is it not?” The beast and König circle each other, like two combatants in an arena. “You are as ever driven by your past mistakes.”
“König, what is it talking about?” You feel like you’re witnessing a conversation you shouldn’t be, but you feel helpless to do anything about it. If you tried to make a move towards the beast now, it would have its jaws snapped around you in an instant.
“It’s lying, liebling. It’s what they do. It’s trying to throw you for a loop so it can catch you off guard.”
“Liebling now, is it?” The beast lets out an awful, barking laugh. “My, the two of you have come far. But not far enough, it seems.”
König gives you a quick, sidelong glance, then tilts his head back towards the beast. The message is clear. We need to distract it. I’ll keep it talking.
“From her response, it seems you’ve been keeping secrets from your lovely little bride.” The beast shakes itself, its fur puffing up to look larger and more intimidating.
“There’s nothing to keep. None of that is important.”
“I would beg to differ. And if your liebling knew what it was, she would disagree as well.”
“You know nothing about us,” König growls. Yes, you’re in a life-or-death situation right now, but the viciousness in his tone sends an excited shiver up your spine. You’re opposite König now, almost completely hidden behind the beast’s monstrous form.
“You know nothing about each other!” Before either of you can react, the beast whips around. Its glowing-white eyes are fixed on you. “Not that it matters any longer.”
You barely have time to scream before the beast is upon you.
“No!” König’s voice rings in your ears. You can feel the creature’s hot breath, its vile drool spilling onto your clothes, its teeth closing around your neck—
Time slows to a crawl, the events unfolding one after the other in sequence. The first thing you’re aware of is the beast’s roar of pain, booming deafeningly all around you. I’m inside its mouth, you think numbly. The second thing you notice is your necklace: it’s glowing red, as if the metal has become molten hot. But you don’t feel any burning sensation, just a faint tingle.
The third thing you see is König shoving himself between the two halves of the beast’s snout, physically holding it open with his body.
It’s truly an impressive sight, like watching Atlas hold up the sky. For a brief moment, all you can do is stare up at him in awe.
“What are you doing?! Get out!” he yells, and you snap back to your senses.
You roll aside out of the beast’s range, scrambling to get back on your feet. König dodges out of the way just as the jaws snap shut.
“Is that..?” the thing wheezes. You rush to help König up as it glares balefully at you. Its beady eyes focus on the pendant around your neck, narrowing in disgust.
“Calliope,” it spits. “I should have known. This bears marks of your meddling all over.”
Your blood runs cold. “What did you just say?” What does your lady in waiting have to do with this?
“You—” The beast doesn’t get a chance to finish its sentence, because König takes advantage of its consternation to stick his sword into its neck. The creature bellows in pain and lunges at König, who barely manages to dodge the strike but loses his grip on his sword in the process. The monstrous animal whips around and around, attempting to grab hold of the sword with its teeth.
“Strike, now!” König calls before promptly getting clocked in the head with the pommel of his own sword as the beast thrashes and screams.
You don’t hesitate to spring into action, unsheathing a wicked-sharp blade as long as your forearm and sprinting towards the creature. König’s left you a perfect opening: as long as the beast is trying to get ahold of the sword, its chest is wide open for attack.
You don’t waste the opportunity. With the running start, you leap forward, sinking the blade into the wolf’s chest, right where its heart lies. The long, keening wail that the beast lets out is confirmation that your blade has struck true.
You have to throw yourself into a roll to get out of the way before the massive body crashes down on top of you. It lies on the ground, its heaving breaths growing shallower by the moment, its wounds staining the ground with a faintly shimmering golden ichor. So the fae do have golden blood, just like the old legends said, you think, watching the macabre scene with stunned terror.
“Brought low by two fae-touched mortals with barely a fight…” the beast huffs. It sounds weary and resigned to its fate, strange for a creature that had seemed so deadly and menacing just moments before. “Fate is cruel.”
“Fae-touched…what do you mean?” you ask, eyes widening. “Wait! What do you mean by that?!”
The beast doesn’t respond, its chest now hardly moving with its breaths. It’s not long for the world, now.
Behind the hulking, dying animal, you spot König staggering into a standing position. “König!” You gather yourself and rush towards him.
He’s visibly unstable on his feet, swaying slightly and looking dazed. The sword must have hit him hard, because his hood has been partially torn away. Despite everything, though, you can’t see any visible blood or injuries from this angle. Until he turns.
A bloodcurdling scream tears its way out of your throat. König cringes slightly at the sound, but you can’t help yourself. The sight is terrifying.
The skin above one half of his mouth is simply gone. He has no lip, not even any flesh up to his nose. His upper teeth and gums on one half of his mouth are just exposed, giving him a grim, unnatural appearance. He looks like Death itself, resembling the skeletal depictions in the manuscripts.
You should be afraid—scratch that, you are afraid. But you realize quickly your fear is not of him, but for him.
“Did it do this to you?!” you say, panicking. You dash forward and grab ahold of his face, turning it so you can examine the injury more closely. The act seems to startle König, who simply looks down at you in confusion.
“What are we going to do? There’s no way this village has a healer who could dress this wound…” you fret. An injury on this level is almost certainly a death sentence if he doesn’t receive adequate attention immediately, and he certainly won’t last the night if you’re forced to travel by horseback again—
“Schatzi…” König grabs your hands with his and removes them from his face. “I’m fine.”
You stare at him in shock for a moment. “You—how can—you—”
He heaves a heavy sigh, as if a massive burden has been placed on his shoulders. “I’m alright. The wound is…not new.”
“How can it not be new.”
König screws his eyes shut for a moment as if trying to gather his composure. “It’s been this way since I was young. Look,” he says, touching the area with a finger. “There’s no blood.”
On closer inspection, you realize he’s right: not only is there no blood, but the skin around his mouth and nose appear to be completely healed. And not even as if it were a true wound: there’s no scarring, no uneven flesh. The skin and muscle are simply…missing.
“What…how…” You’re at a total loss for words. Since he was young? What happened? How had he survived such an injury as a child? You have a million questions, but you find yourself unable to ask any of them.
You watch him, stunned, as he walks past you towards the beast’s body. It lays completely still now, all semblance of life having fled from the corpse. With one hand on the grip and one foot braced against the beast’s body, he wrenches his sword free, then bends to pull your knife out.
“I know you must have questions,” he says, wiping the blood off of both weapons onto the wolf’s fur with a grimace, “but I can’t answer them here. Please, if I promise to explain, will you…will you wait until we’ve left the village?” He turns to look at you beseechingly.
“I…” Now that the adrenaline and initial panic is beginning to fade, your whole body feels heavy and exhausted. You don’t have the energy to be angry, or afraid, or demand an explanation now. You have no choice but to agree, nodding quietly. König seems relieved at your calm response.
“So that’s why you always wear a mask or a hood,” you say numbly as you watch him take the ruined hood off, shaking his head to get the hair out of his face. He gives you a sad, regretful look.
“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”
“Did you mean for me to find out at all?”
“I never meant for anyone to find out.”
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The villagers throw a celebration. A modest one, to be sure, but the relief on the peoples’ faces is enough of a reward for you. You can tell König is glad to see it as well—though every time you look at his face, hidden once more behind his mask, you feel a twinge in your heart as you remember what lies underneath it.
You can’t find it in yourself to enjoy the celebrations, even as excited children and grateful parents swarm you to give their thanks. You give them all a smile and a kind word, but that’s all you can manage. Dread and curiosity mix to form a terrible feeling in your gut.
The days between your defeat of the beast and your departure go by in a blur. You’re grateful for the rest, but you can’t stop thinking, worrying, about König’s condition. You manage to stop being petrified that he’s going to drop dead of infection at any moment, but you can’t look at him anymore without thinking about it. About the secret that he’s kept from you, from everyone who’s ever met him. You can’t even wrap your mind around what it all means. You have no point of reference for what could have happened to your husband’s face.
Husband. What a strange thing, to be wed to someone whose full face you had only seen a few days ago, months into your marriage. You haven’t thought of him like that at all. He’s always been König: the king, the enemy, the annoyance. And your lover, you suppose. For the first time, you start to wonder exactly what kind of man you’ve bound yourself to.
Because it’s exceedingly clear to you now. You can’t kill this man. Not just because you don’t want to anymore, but because he might be unkillable.
The village hasn’t yet vanished in the distance behind the two of you when you speak. “What the hell?”
König’s eyes slide to you, then back to the road ahead. “Language.”
You sputter in indignation. “Lang—that’s not what I want to hear!”
“Forgive me. I couldn’t resist.”
“König, this is serious! You promised an explanation.”
“I know what I promised,” he says, a slight edge creeping into his voice.
“Well?”
König takes as deep breath. Inhale, exhale.
Then he begins.
“Well. What do we have here? You’re awfully young for this, little prince.”
He’s fourteen. He’s about to make a decision that will shape the rest of his life.
He had done as the crone’s old tome instructed. Bone from an animal slain in its youth. Flowers bloomed under the cover of pitch black night. A blade whet on the summoner’s own flesh. He’s knelt under the light of the full moon, round and blindingly white.
The ethereal creature standing before him is easily twice his height, with an unearthly glow to their skin and hair and a smile that could almost be mistaken for kind and benevolent on their unnaturally beautiful face.
He’s done it. He’s summoned a fae.
With no small amount of difficulty, he rises to his feet, leaning heavily on the cane that helps him walk. The fae lets out a noise of amusement as they watch the young boy struggle.
“Usually, mortals don’t gamble away their lives until they’re older, and greed begins to dictate their actions.”
He glares at the fae but doesn’t respond.
“Come, now. Do not look at me so. Give me your name, little prince.”
“…you may call me König.”
The fae’s expression sharpens, ever so slightly. “Clever boy. ‘König’…don’t you think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself?”
“I want to make a deal.”
The fae sighs. “Straight to the point, I see. Well, I can’t fault your efficiency. Or is it desperation?” They smirk at him, their eyes taking the rest of him in. He knows he must make for a pathetic sight: a cripple with a harelip, spine curled and legs thin and spindly.
He doesn’t care. This is the last day he will ever be this pathetic.
“Let me guess. You wish to no longer be a cripple.”
“I want to be able bodied. I want to be strong enough to defeat my enemies. I want to be rid of my harelip.” Clear, concise language. He’s spoken these words to himself in the mirror countless times.
“You’ve certainly done your research. Then you know what price I will ask for such things.”
He swallows nervously. “Yes.”
“Very well then. Let us begin.”
It starts in his toes, the strange sensation that flows up through him that he will know all his days. He can feel the strength rushing into his limbs, feel his spine straightening, withered muscles coming to life.
Then comes the pain.
It’s white-hot torment, as if his body has become a living coal. He falls to the ground again, screaming and writhing as his bones crack and realign themselves. Somewhere, in the distance, he can hear the fae’s cruel laughter as they watch him suffer. For a brief moment, some primal, animal part of his brain thinks he’s going to die.
“Fret not, boy king. You won’t perish—I won’t let you until you give me what you’ve promised me,” the fae says, as if they can hear his thoughts.
He’s not sure how long he lays there on the ground, body wracked with agony. It feels like hours pass before he regains use of his limbs. But the pain does eventually fade away, leaving him dazed but still alive. Slowly, he manages to stand up again.
He stares at himself in wonder, legs and arms stretching. For the first time ever, he’s able to stand tall and straight on his own, his cane discarded to the side. And he feels strong. At last, he doesn’t feel weak for once.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” The fae’s face has changed: they still look the same, but there’s a beastly, ugly quality to their lovely features that chills him to the bone.
His hands fly instantly to his face. The harelip is still there, he notes with displeasure.
“You forgot something,” he says, frowning in his lopsided way.
“Oh, I didn’t.” Before König can react, the fae’s eyes hollow and grow dark, becoming two pools of endless void. Their teeth sharpen, their face grows gaunt.
“Remember what you owe, boy king,” they remind him. “On the day and the hour your first child is born, I will come to collect.”
He doesn’t even have time to scream before the fae reaches forward with black talons and tears off his mouth.
You’re rendered speechless by his story. Where do you even start?
Your first thoughts are of the way he described himself as a child. König, weak and crippled? König? You look at him now, eighteen hands high astride his horse, the picture of raw strength and dominance. You can’t imagine it at all.
Your second thought is— “You made a deal with the fae? Do you know how foolish that is? Fae never give you what you want, and the cost is always far too high!”
“Don’t lecture me,” he says tightly. “I know what I was getting myself into. I had no other choice.”
“What do you mean, no other choice? You were the king’s son—you are the king! You could have had servants carry you everywhere if need be!”
“You don’t understand what it was like,” König snarls, turning to you with fire in his eyes. “Nobody would have accepted a cripple as their king. My life would constantly have been in danger, having to rely upon others. Unable to even defend myself if an assassin set upon me in my bed.” He’s getting angrier, more worked up as he goes.
“I told you that I was once poisoned as a child with nightshade berries. Did you wonder why there was such a plant in my mother’s garden? Why the royal heir was unsupervised for so long in the first place?” König’s expression is twisted, his voice turned bitter with betrayal. “It was a plot against me by some of my father’s advisors. They conspired with my nursemaid to make it seem like an accident…they expected me to die.”
“I…I’m sorry, König. I didn’t think.”
He glances at you and takes a moment to collect himself before speaking. “I was lucky. My father sent for the best healers he could find. My mother cried at my bedside for weeks.” His brow furrows. “My lot in life could have been worse: my parents loved me, at the very least. But it made me hate myself even more—that I was such a profound disappointment.
“My mother had a difficult birth. Some whispered that it was penance for what my father did: that the spirits of those slain during his campaigns had cursed my mother’s womb. She never was able to conceive again…so all their hopes rested upon my shoulders. My crippled, useless shoulders.”
The venom in his voice when he talks about himself makes your heart ache with sympathy. You move your horse closer to his and put a hand on his arm, squeezing him in what you hope is a comforting manner. His expression softens as he looks down at you.
“It would have been easy for you to kill me if I were still like that, liebe.” You feel your face grow warm again at the term of endearment.
“It makes sense, your strength being fae-given…Calliope said there was something not right about you.”
“Calliope is a perceptive woman.”
You study his face, eyes regarding his mask in a new light. “It really doesn’t look so bad. I only reacted that way because I thought you were injured.”
He shrugs. “Never was that good-looking anyway.”
You make a face. “Are you suggesting I sleep with ugly men?”
“You’ve only slept with me.”
“I’m trying to compliment you.”
“You think I’m handsome?”
“When you’re not annoying me.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Well, now you know.”
You study him. He seems relieved to have finally gotten this off his shoulders. “Do you regret it?”
He gets a faraway look in his eyes. “…No.”
The village’s leader had advised an alternate path back home: it might take you a day or two longer, but it was less remote and lined with other villages. You arrive at the first inn just as the sun is about to duck beneath the horizon, the sky streaked with orange.
It’s a serene part of the wood, and the inn is quite quaint as well. Whoever runs it has done well for themselves, you think absentmindedly as you and König dismount and prepare to unload.
A side door swings open, and a quite frankly huge man walks out, facing away from the two of you. Your sense of scale is attuned to König now, so he’s of course not the biggest man you’ve ever seen, but he’s broad-shouldered and thick with muscle. You can’t see his face from this angle, but you can just about spot his blond hair—
“Shit. Shit.” König instantly spins around so his horse is between him and the man who’s just walked out of the building. You squint. Is he…hiding?
“What’s going on? Should I be worried?”
“No. Yes. Maybe.” Is he cringing? “Do you think it’s too late to set up camp?”
“Set up camp? When there’s a perfectly good inn right there?”
“Yes!”
“What has gotten into you? That man is quite big, but he’s not that sc—”
“I’m not scared of him, I just recognize him. And I don’t particularly feel like seeing him.”
You’re agog at the scene before you. “You’re the king.”
“Even kings have their hangups, alright?”
“I am not sleeping in the woods.”
“As your husband and supreme ruler, I demand it.”
“Come now. I know you’re tired of fucking me outside.”
That gives him serious pause, which almost makes you giggle. Ridiculous man. You could probably lead him onto an executioner’s block if you held him by the cock.
“Please,” you beg, stepping forward to hold his hand and giving him the biggest, most wide eyes you can muster. “I’m not ready to go back to sleeping on the ground yet.”
His face scrunches up in a hopelessly endearing, almost childlike way. “Fine. But you have to go in and talk to the innkeep. I’m going to stay out here.”
“I don’t know what all the fuss is, but fine. You big baby.” You hand him your horse’s reins and make your way to the front door of the inn.
You’ve barely pushed the door very far at all before you hear a friendly voice from inside. “Welcome, traveler! Come on in.”
“It’s wonderful to make your—” You stop in the doorway, frozen with shock.
“It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, your highness.” A pair of familiar sparkling eyes look back at you. “And you can tell his majesty that he can come inside, I’ve already seen him.”
König’s first wife stands before you, watching your reaction with clear amusement.
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Forgive me for that smut. It's been years since I've written anything nsfw, and I wrote this at like. 5AM after a very long day because when I'm not exhausted, writing smut becomes impossible. It's quite the pickle.
Well...I did say that part 3 was going to be a doozy! I'm looking forward to all the reactions...🤭
Comments and feedback are of course always appreciated <3
@kneelingshadowsalome @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @keiva1000 @catluvwr @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @channelsoph @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @lexuria @complexivelovely
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mariacrow · 1 year ago
Note
EEEEEE someone who’s taking transformers requests!
If you have the time, could you maybe write up something with Bumblebee and a gender neutral reader who loves to climb the bot?
Just one of the ways the two bond and playfully flirt-what with Bee being able to easily scoop up the human with both hands. But the human keeps insisting: No no I can do this I’m quite capable. And Bee just finds it endearing. ^^
Gotchu ;)
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Bumblebee x reader who loves to climb the bot
2nd person
any pronouns
fluff
bonding time, cuddling, soft flirting
AU where Bumblebee is reader’s guardian
takes place in reader’s garage
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I know the gif is from Bumblebee (2018) but I had to add it! It’s too cute! 😭
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A hot July afternoon. You were in your garage along with Bee in his Chevy form. A gramophone was on your working desk, 70s and 80s biggest hits spinning. Bee loves old music.
You were working on his paint job.
“Bee, you need to be more careful, this is the 3rd time this week I’m repainting your bumper”
He buzzed, talking back like a kid. He made you giggle.
“Almost done. There we go!” you straightened and wiped the sweat off your forehead.
“Now let it dry.”
“Sir, yessir!” he spoke over the radio.
You left the can of yellow paint where it belongs, cleaning your hands with a rag. In the meantime Bee transformed.
“Bee! I told you to be careful!”
“I am being careful!” he sat on the floor.
He made you chuckle and shake your head. Then you got an idea.
“You know what? I know how to make your paint job look even better! Wait here.”
You ran inside, to your bedroom, grabbing your sticker album. Then you ran back to the garage, all excited.
“Tadaaa! Stickers!”
Bee buzzed in excitement, his eyes wide. He happily clapped and adjusted his sitting.
You giggled and started climbing him. It wasn’t that easy with the album in your hand.
“Woah-“ you almost lost balance. Bee flinched, having fast reflexes, ready to catch you.
“You need help there buddy?” he asked over the radio.
“Nono, I can do it alone.” you reassured him.
Bee’s optics were spinning and expanding at the sight of you. A low loving buzz hummed in his chassis, you’re too adorable. You made his spark flutter.
You managed to climb onto his shoulder, sitting there, opening your album and choosing stickers that would match his color. Bee was helping you with holding you in front of him as you wanted to decorate his whole helm. He was not taking his optics off of you.
“What’s up?” you chuckled, noticing the way he’s looking at you.
“You’re beautiful…”
“Thank you, Bee..” he made you smile and blush, “There we go!” you put yellow flowers and stickers of bees and honeycombs all over his helm.
He looked at his reflection in a mirror in the garage. He made a chuckling buzz sound as he hugged you tightly. He made you laugh as you hugged him back, giving him a smooch between the optics.
He was literally looking like this “🐝💛^^💛🐝”, buzzing like the happy bumblebee he is.
He took a sticker of a yellow flower off his helm and gently sticked it to your forehead. You both laughed.
“Oh Bee.. I love you..” you said softly while lovingly looking into his beautiful, blue orbs.
“I love you too…” he said as another low loving buzz rumbled in his chassis. He closed his optics and snuggled, gently holding you while enjoying the tenderness of your tiny hands caressing his face plate.
He slowly started cradling you from side to side to the music. Both of you enjoyed the cute little bonding time.
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Dividers belong to @cute-sushi-roll , @tex-treasures 💛
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bg-brainrot · 7 months ago
Text
The Night They Slept Together
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Summary: Tav pines, and their relationship with Astarion shifts ever so slightly. (They literally do just sleep)
Tags: 2nd person POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Pining, light hurt and angst, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, coping with feelings, act 2, pre-confession
A/N: some light angst as Tav comes to term with their feelings but we already know where they end up, so it's okay, right? :D
Word count: ~2.1k
--
Your tryst with Astarion should be over by now.
It was supposed to be a one off moment of passion, a way to destress after all of the danger you’d thrown yourselves into. He’d asked so easily, you’d agreed just as readily– a quick celebratory moment after defeating that goblin camp, when your spirits and libido were running high.
The second time? Well, that was easy to write off as well. You’d just fought off an entire creche, moving through it like a pair of practiced assassins, a synchrony you haven’t felt since– well, you’re not certainly you’ve ever felt so in sync with someone. Either way, it was another easy nod to his sly, questioning look. 
You’d had similar excuses for your first night in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, for the handful of midday, afternoon, midnight romps since.
It’s just a way for us to cope with the situation at hand, nothing more, nothing less, you’d told yourself.
That is, until you’d realized that it wasn’t just that. Not to you. 
Oh gods, I love this insane vampire.
The night you’d realized that everything had changed.
What had begun as a distraction for you both, had turned into a poison– one slowly working its way through your system, incapacitating you piece by piece at the thought of another night falling into his arms, sinking deeper into the throes of an impossible love. 
After all, what is this other than convenient? And if you continued to be a mere convenience to him, well, you doubt that this would end well for you. It’s high time that you cut off the source of this poison before it festers too far. Before it grips your vulnerable, aching heart.
That’s what you’d told yourself, but you’re finding it so much harder to cut off the source when he’s standing right in front of you, waiting for you with a smirk toying along the edge of his mouth, an eyebrow raising suggestively as his voice lowers to a sultry invitation. 
You’d come by his tent to say goodnight. Maybe, ‘Good job today.’ Any excuse to see him really, but now you’re met with a challenge.
Astarion’s words don’t make it much easier either.
“Oh my dear, you look positively wound-up after today’s bouts. Care for a little… unwinding?”
His voice drips with promise, with want, with a feeling that echoes through your own traitorous core. But, like a sweet that’s overstayed its welcome, it seems too tacky, hardening into something utterly indigestible.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask, eying him carefully, fighting down your own building desires.
“Why shouldn’t it be?” he asks, a raised brow lowering in uncertainty. 
You hesitate, unsure how much truth you’re willing to part with. Certainly not, ‘Because I may have accidentally fallen in love with you.’ And you don’t want to shove him out of your life unceremoniously either. Just… to slow down, allow your heart time to adjust– to get over him, if need be.
After a pause that goes on for a second too long, you finally settle on, “It just seems as if we’ve already had plenty of ‘fun’, don’t you think?”
Astarion’s small smirk drops, a dark look entering his eyes as he registers your words, how they directly counter his own from your first night together. How they fall between you with the full weight of rejection. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown shy now, darling?” he says, voice a bit sharper than what you’re used to.
You’d known that trying to slow down wouldn’t be easy, but his downturned lips make you want to take back your words, dive back into the intoxicating miasma of his cold embrace. But you also know that if you don’t stand your ground now, you’re liable to fall too far too fast.
“Not shy per say,” you respond, measuring your words carefully. “Merely wondering if that’s what you want.”
Astarion seems no more placated by these words than your earlier ones. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t want this?”
Fear born of your heart, insecurity born of your nerves, damned logic born of your head– there are really so many reasons he wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want you. But you don’t want to be too transparent, not when this adventure could all be over very soon. You say as much.
“Well, our days could be numbered.” Then your lips continue. “Perhaps there is someone else you would rather be unwinding?” The question slips out of you, an unbidden, unwelcome concern courtesy of the fear building in your chest.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, response quick, tone biting. His lips are pressed in a tight line, the muscles in his neck tense as he clenches his jaw.
Gods, you’d known your heart would lead you astray. Here you are, facing an Astarion unlike any that had made a home in your bedroll. An Astarion made of sharp edges and cutting words. Expression closed, mouth a tight line, you find his change in demeanor aggravating. You bristle at his accusation. “No, Astarion. I don’t want that. If I did, I wouldn’t be here, speaking with you. Though you’re making me regret doing that much now.”
He tilts back at your words, leaning back on the heels of his feet as if thrown off balance. “Then why did you even come over? To reject me then to–to taunt me?”
You had meant to do none of that. Really, you’d only come over out of habit, to see him, to… spend time with him. But it’s hard to say so without being entirely too forthcoming with your feelings. You wish that you could put your feelings into words, however it’s your burden to bear, not his. He has more than enough on his plate between the Absolute and Raphael’s deal. 
So you shake your head at him. “I didn’t mean to reject you, Astarion. I hadn’t come here for sex at all.”
Once more, he asks the question you do not want to answer. “Then why did you even come over?”
You could lie. It’s as easy as breathing for you– it’s how you and Astarion had grown so close so quickly. You should lie, you tell yourself. But one look into his crimson, pleading eyes and the lie dies on your lips.
He looks hurt. So genuinely confused at your presence in front of him, deeply convinced that you could only be here for one thing and one thing only. And you know then that you can’t lie.
“I wanted to see you,” you say, the honest words tightening your throat on their way out, You haven’t told him how you feel, but you may as well have, with the way the words sound utterly, sinfully soft, a secret lost on the cold wind of the Shadow-Cursed night.
“You… wanted to see me?” he repeats, tone losing all of its edge, losing any of its structure at all.
You nod silently, uncertain if more words would help or hurt the situation.
To that, Astarion only blinks. His mouth opens, head tilting in that cautiously inquisitorial way, as he asks, “And then what?”
There was no ‘and then’ in your mind. Merely the need to see him, spend time with him, even after spending an entire dark, dreary day with him. But you suppose he wouldn’t understand that if you said it. So you need to come up with something concrete, a reason to be here beyond words…
“I was wondering if you wanted to share a bedroll tonight. To sleep,” you say, infusing enough confidence in your words that you can hardly note the nerves. You expect Astarion wouldn’t notice them at all. 
His defenses noticeably drop, his shoulders sagging in relief, and a sigh escapes him as he shakes his head at you wryly. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, darling? I understand that not everyone has my stamina, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
You want to roll your eyes, defend your honor as it hangs on by a thread, but you’ve narrowly avoided disaster and you’re not proud enough to ruin that. Instead you play into the role, ignoring the dull twinge that twists through your heart. “I wasn’t sure you would be so magnanimous,” you say, giving him the slightest bow of your head. “I should have known.”
“That you should have,” he says with a breathy laugh and he sounds almost… relieved?
More than anything, you want to ask him, why? Are you relieved that my feelings have stayed silent? That this thing between us remains uncomplicated? That you don’t have to find yourself a new distraction?
But your questions stay just as buried as your feelings do.
Your damnable feelings, which seem to threaten to burst out each time his eyes linger too long, with every touch you weren’t expecting. It must be a talent, holding them in as you do now.
They stay hidden as he extends a hand to you, inviting you into his tent with a warm smile and a, “Shall we?”
You keep them dormant as you follow, tucking your head into the now-familiar red structure, narrowly avoiding the mess he’s left inside. 
They almost slip to the surface as he pulls you down onto his lap, and a heat rises between you as natural as steam from a hot spring.
It’s an invitation, of course. One last effort from Astarion for something more tonight, for you to be won over by his beauty and charm. But there’s nothing to be won over because you are already his.
You wish he could tell, from your drunken declarations, from the way you’ve made a second home in his arms. Maybe he can tell, but refuses to acknowledge it– you could hardly blame him if that were to be the case. But you also can’t blame yourself for barely holding back.
Even now, seated in his lap, staring into his mesmerizing red eyes, you’re not certain you could trust a single word that comes out of your lips. So you throw every word you’ve ever known, could ever know, to the wayside. And simply kiss him.
You press your lips to his slowly, contact feather-light as you balance on his thighs. Bracing yourself with a hand on his chest, you lean in, locking your lips together fully. 
They move together easily, dance partners on a familiar dance floor, to a practiced tune, but when you think of all of the things you wish you could say, an urgency rises in you– a deep-seated need to tell him how you feel, even if only through this.
So you kiss him harder, your hands holding him all the tighter. You kiss him with every word unspoken, every intangible feeling rising in your chest, every single ounce of you that he’s already won, if only he were willing to claim it.
Astarion moves to deepen the kiss, placing a hand on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back, not understanding where your desperation comes from. Misunderstanding your intent altogether. 
Of course, what was I thinking? you wonder to yourself as you pull away, panting lightly. That some magical kiss could make this man realize my feelings, could make him love me back?
But you’re not in some copper novel. This man harbors no hidden feelings for you. Only a deep need to lose himself, and you happen to be the person he’s chosen to do that with.
So, despite the confusion in his face, you crawl off of his lap. Despite the way his hand trails along your side as you lay down, you don’t get back up. You merely say, “It’s getting late, we should get some rest.”
Astarion murmurs his agreement, but you can hear the reluctance in his tone, see the bewildered expression on his face as he lies down, all of his clothing still covering his body. 
You could laugh at the absurdity of it all, how unnerved he is, how deeply your chest aches– gods, this didn’t go well at all. But you don’t laugh. Only a sigh escapes you as you wrap your arms around him, as you press your body to his with all of the affection you cannot contain.
His arms stumble, they falter, but they find their way around you as well. An awkward embrace from a man who has no clue how he’s arrived at this point.
It’s difficult at a moment like this to remember that you shouldn’t love this man. That there are a dozen reasons to tamp down your feelings, a dozen more to run away. This was never supposed to be more than a single night of fun.
But, face tucked into the crook of his neck, hands clutching his loose shirt, nose filled with his carefully curated scent– you can almost pretend that this is real.
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twstbookclub · 7 months ago
Text
Sharp Teeth, Tough Love
Summary: You caught Floyd's interest the moment fire and chaos erupted in the Mirror Chamber. One chance meeting gave you the nickname Shrimpy, and another left Floyd sinking deeper into the depths. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Floyd Being Floyd, Slow Burn, Minor ADeuce and Grim Shenanigans again, Unrequited Feelings, Floyd's POV (I hope yall remember whose nickname belongs to who) Word Count: 3, 044 If yall needed to know, I wrote this on the same day I wrote the Riddle fic. My brain is spent on these two, and I couldn't be any happier. I wish I could end this another way, though. Poor terrifying and violent Floyd. One thing to note, it's really fascinating how he only calls someone by name if he really respected them. Also, if yall catch that reference to one of Floyd's lesson chats, I will love you forever. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy again 💕
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Floyd could never forget the first time he saw you.
Your face was twisted into a flabbergasted frown, mingled with distress, confusion, and exasperation. The cat monster—he’ll call it Baby Seal since its tiny height and gray fur reminded him of one—ran amok and spewed fire everywhere. Kalim’s screams rang in the air, followed by Crowley’s indignant shouts. He watched the chaos unfold with intrigued eyes and a widening grin, revealing sharp teeth and a thirst for more wreckage.
Amidst the smoke that billowed and swirled in the Mirror Chamber, you stood in the middle of it. The harsh glow of the fire pierced Floyd’s eyes, but all he saw was your silhouette surrounded by dying embers and crackling flames. Just as his gaze landed on you, your head swiveled around to look back at him. As if some invisible force compelled you to find the eyes that burned into your figure.
He wanted to see you again.
The next time he saw you, you were with Baby Seal and those two freshmen in Heartslabyul: Crabby and Little Mackerel. Even Goldfish and Sea Bream were with you. The six of you lurked in the courtyard, as if trying to spy on something. Whatever you were doing, it caught his attention.
“Careful, Floyd,” Jade simpered after he followed his brother’s line of sight, “don’t scare the fish away.”
Of course, Jade already knew what Floyd was thinking with one look. There was a reason why they chose each other and survived the coldest, harshest waters.
“Yeah, yeah.” Floyd flippantly waved away Jade’s words with a languid grin, before he snuck on the group. It was laughable, how they didn’t notice his tall and gangly figure slink in front of them. The six students spoke in hushed whispers, too engrossed in their conversation to see the shadow that loomed over them. His eyes roamed each freshman, checking the fresh meat, but they lingered on you.
You looked so small, and he had to tilt his head down to see your eyes. Back then, during the entrance ceremony, you hunched over as if to curl into yourself. Small and weak and afraid.
Floyd’s lips stretched from one ear to the other. He’ll call you Shrimpy.
“Oh ho ho! What is up, Lil’ Goldfish?”
Goldfish jumped, sputtering and floundering like a fish caught by its prey. The rest showed varying degrees of surprise. Sea Bream’s smile became strained, and Floyd could see the junior sweat a little. Crabby flinched, while Little Mackerel took a step back with wide eyes. His fists were raised to his chest, and Floyd’s eyes narrowed at that.
Huh, one of them was ready for a fight. Interesting.
His attention shifted to you, wide eyes fluttering in disbelief. You craned your neck to look up at him with parted lips. As Floyd engaged Goldfish in a conversation more like interrogation, he felt like he was floating. It’s as if he could run around the track field without breaking a sweat from the look you gave him.
He wanted to see more of that. He wanted to see you more.
Your gaze drifted to Jade, and you froze. Floyd brushed it off as fear. That was how people usually reacted to them, anyway. It was nothing new. He focused on the conversation with Goldfish without sparing your reaction another thought.
One sunny day, a few days after that chance meeting, Floyd saw you in the courtyard again. You were with Baby Seal—he always was—along with Crabby and Little Mackerel. The latter two stood in front of you, who sat on the edge of the fountain. Baby Seal was standing next to you with this annoyed look. Meanwhile, the Leech brother was lounging on the grass. Alchemy class bored him, so he decided to skip and bathe in the sunlight on the courtyard.
None of them seemed to notice him. Floyd watched, still bored out of his mind. He was debating on whether to spook the group or otherwise, when he heard you laugh.
You tilted your head back, letting the sun illuminate the smile on your face. It was a toothy grin, one that crinkled your eyes and emphasized the chub of your cheeks. He barely saw the color of your irises, and your unrestrained laugh echoed in the desolate courtyard. You even snorted.
You tilted your head back so much that you tipped over and fell into the fountain with a loud splash. Floyd snickered, ignoring the warmth in his chest and the flutter of his heart. Howling laughter followed your fall. Crabby clutched his stomach and doubled over. Little Mackerel held back a smile as he flailed, unsure of how to help you, in front of the fountain. Baby Seal was laughing his ass off, belly flopping on the edge of the fountain.
He decided to stand from his spot and help you, since the entire thing entertained him. Although, when he stood tall and took a step towards the fountain, he paused. You were drenched in water, from the top of your head to the tip of your leather shoes. Locks of hair stuck to your forehead and cheeks. Your uniform clung to your skin, and it looked uncomfortable. Despite all that, your smile remained.
“You assholes!” You laughed with a loud wheeze, happy and carefree with that toothy and blinding grin. He could clearly hear you laugh and sputter, even with Crabby’s and Baby Seal’s loud snickers and laughter. As he watched Little Mackerel help you—and fail, because you slipped back into the fountain—a thought nagged at his mind. 
What should I do to make Shrimpy laugh like that again?
“Hey, Shrimpy!” Floyd chirped, grin too wide and sharp to be considered friendly. Little Mackerel and Crabby stepped back, as the sophomore grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the fountain. Your hand shot out to grip the edge, while you stood from the water.
“Need a lil’ help?”
“Oh merciful Seven—” Floyd pretended not to notice how your vocabulary changed in just a few months— “thanks, but how much did you see?”
The fact that you nonchalantly accepted his help, that you didn’t flinch from him, made Floyd’s heart do somersaults and cartwheels. The corners of his lips stretched towards his ears. He squeezed your arm and watched you step out of the fountain.
Water dripped from your uniform, and Floyd observed the droplets fall from your hair and fingertips. He briefly wondered what you’d look like if he dragged you into the sea. Would you be surprised? Would you scream?
Would you laugh and call him an asshole, like what you did earlier?
“What answer do you wanna hear, Shrimpy?” He teased, still grinning and holding your arm. For some reason, Floyd didn’t want to let go.
“The one that doesn’t embarrass me, thanks.” You chuckled, despite the other three freshmen being silent spectators of this interaction. As you thanked him again and flicked the water off your hands, Floyd couldn’t help but grin wider.
Another month passed. After that admittedly hilarious outburst from Azul, you became a regular at Mostro Lounge. You visited during the weekends, even if you were wary at first. You fell into a routine, just as fast as how you picked up on the lingo in Twisted Wonderland.
You walked in during the weekends and stayed for as long as an hour and thirty minutes. (Yes, Floyd kept count.) You’d talk to either Jade or himself, depending on whoever was waiting tables at the time. Azul passed by at times to make sure you were having a good time, obviously to maintain Mostro Lounge’s good reputation. After a few visits, Floyd began to monopolize your attention by literally taking over server duty during the days you visited.
Even if he had to subtly threaten Azul with profit loss via property destruction and sabotage.
“Hey Shrimpy,” Floyd drawled, sitting across from you in one of the booths. It was a slow day today, and all you ordered was a fruit shake. A history book was opened to some page Floyd didn’t care to know. Notes littered your table, and your penmanship occupied his attention a little.
That was, until he grew bored of the sounds of pen scratching paper and the clinking dishes in Mostro Lounge.
“Hm? Yeah, Floyd?” You asked, flipping a page and jotting down something on your notebook. The tall merman pouted, before he reached over and snapped your book shut. Before you could even react, he snatched it away and lifted it far from you.
“I’m boooored. C’mon, play with me!”
Floyd grinned when you stuttered and glared at him. Your reactions always amused him, moreso whenever you were irritated or angry. Something about the way your brows furrowed and your nose scrunched made him want to tease you more. When you began to flail your arms and make animated gestures, that was when he knew you were really fed up.
“You—” You sighed and stood up, trying to reach for the book. Floyd only lifted it higher, and he didn’t even need to stand up. The corner of his lips twitched, while he watched you struggle and stretch to snatch the book back.
“Floyd, give it back! Please? I promise I’ll—”
There was a reason why he always tried to annoy you. You’d always promise him something in the end: treat him to lunch, hang out with him in the Lounge, watch his basketball matches (even if you were there for Crabby, too). It was the only way he could spend time with you without outright asking for it.
Floyd wasn’t an idiot. He knew he liked you, and it all began with that incident involving the fountain. Even Jade pointed out the many times Floyd’s face lit up every time you were around. He couldn’t ignore how much his heart pitter-pattered every time he saw you. He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t grinning every time he caught sight of you. The way his name rolled off your tongue made him giddy enough to want to throw you over his shoulder and skip class with you.
If he had a choice, he’d drag you to the deepest parts of the sea and keep you to himself.
The book was plucked out of his hand, but your own hands were empty. You owlishly blinked, and so did Floyd. Both of you stilled, until another voice broke through the quiet hustle and bustle of the Lounge.
“It’s not nice to play with the food in front of you, Floyd.” Jade smiled, the kind he usually wore that fooled anyone into thinking he was the safer option between the two brothers. It was still funny to Floyd how everyone gravitated towards Jade, only to realize the jagged teeth behind that fake smile of his.
You took your book from Jade with an awkward smile. “Ah, thanks, even if you said something subtly backhanded…”
“It’s my pleasure, Prefect,” Jade answered, his smile never wavering in that moment. Careful hands gripped the book and slipped it off his gloved one.
Without missing a beat, you set the book aside and asked, “How are you then, Jade? You and Floyd are usually together, but I haven’t seen you in a while.”
The book remained shut, as if you weren’t trying to get it back from Floyd to study earlier. The lazy smile he had dropped into a thin line. His eyes drooped as he watched the conversation between you and his brother. On the other hand, Jade still wore that perfected smile of his with a hand over his heart.
“I’ve been doing fine. Thank you for asking.” Jade hummed before adding, “I found this lovely new specimen—another species of fungi—while on a hike recently. You were interested in mountain hiking and foraging, am I correct?”
“Oh, yeah.” You laughed, light like tinkling bells. It was a stark contrast to the boisterous laugh you usually had. Floyd’s chest tightened, and his hands clenched into fists under the table.
Letting your laughter die down, you continued with a smile, “Can I join you next time? If not that, you have terrariums, right? Can I see them some time?”
Your smile was small and practiced. Whenever you smiled, it was always toothy and the corners pushed your cheeks up. Now, it reminded Floyd of a prissy princess who had been sheltered all her life. You smiled like a noble that faced the aristocrats in hopes of a good impression. You smiled like the guests his parents had, trying to curry their favor, while he and Jade grew up.
You solely focused on his brother, as if Floyd wasn’t sitting right in front of you for the last hour. Your book and notes laid forgotten on the table. Condensed droplets began to drip from the glass, and the fruit shake was forgotten as well. Even when the edge of one of your transcripts became wet, you didn’t bother moving it away from the glass.
Floyd wasn’t an idiot. Of course, he wasn’t.
His eyes flitted towards the smile you had, softened with an emotion he didn’t want to see. Your own eyes appeared brighter, livelier than whenever you were with him. Even when you sat down, your body was angled towards Jade as you leaned on the table with crossed arms.
His mood soured in that instant, and the pitter-patter of his heart dulled into silence.
Floyd scowled, standing from the booth and shoving his hands in his pockets. You jumped a little, while Jade watched him with that carefully crafted smile. He didn’t bother explaining himself. Jade knew already, and he didn’t owe you anything. You’d only take this as Floyd sulking because his brother ruined his fun.
“Whatever,” he mumbled and trudged out of the restaurant with an air of annoyance. Everyone who happened to be in his way immediately skirted around the Leech brother. One wasn’t fast enough, and Floyd’s arm knocked the tray out of the poor student’s hands.
His scowl deepened. He loomed over the terrified boy with his jaw clenched and eyes glinting ominously. The aggravated tone rang clear in his voice when he threatened, “Watch it, or do you want me to squeeze ya, huh?”
The Heartslabyul student silently despaired about his lunch. He was too intimidated and afraid of Floyd to even squeak. The merman left Mostro Lounge with a scowl and his fists in his pockets, like a child throwing a tantrum. He didn’t bother looking over to see your reaction.
Floyd was growing irritated at the thought that you’d give all your attention to Jade. He’d rather not see you make goo-goo eyes at his own brother. He didn’t want to think too much of it. Maybe he’d find something to do; something to get rid of this itch in his chest and fists.
If he couldn’t, then Azul would just have to deal with Crowley later. He wasn’t going to sit in that cramped office and get lectured by a headmaster that preened over his and the academy’s reputation.
As Floyd stomped through the portal that led back to Night Raven College, his thoughts veered towards you and Jade. His mind conjured every memory he had of you: how you perked up every time you saw Jade; how you always asked about him, even if you thought you were subtle about it; how you subconsciously gravitated towards Jade every time he was there—
A pair of Pomefiore students skittered towards the wall as Floyd passed by. A shadow loomed over his scowling face, which accentuated the dips and curve of his mouth. His blood boiled, and his footfalls grew heavier with each step. If he went on like this, Floyd would dig potholes in the corridors with his feet alone.
He always saw your smile brighten and look dainty around Jade. Your laugh grew softer, restrained and freakishly refined. It was as if you deliberately controlled yourself to look more appealing to his brother. It was annoying Floyd more than it should.
He liked you, even when your body tipped back and doubled over from laughing so much. He liked you, even if your laugh sounded like a dying whale. He liked you, even when you snorted so hard that it hurt your nose. He liked you, even when you smacked him on the shoulder out of exasperation. He liked you so much that he was tempted to tickle you in front of Jade—just so he could hear your loud and carefree laugh again.
He wanted all of you, even if you were weak and frail and helpless. He just wanted you.
He already hated how cheesy he sounded, but his heart called out for you with each waking moment. The image of your smile overlapped with his memory of your laugh. Your name was scrawled in his mind, his heart, his lips, his very soul. Floyd already knew it was bad if he was being poetic, sappy, and romantic like Seagull.
So, why’d you like Jade? His brother could care less about you in that sense. Floyd was already annoyed that Jade moved things behind the scenes: making sure that you were alone with Floyd as much as possible. They were brothers, but none of them would ever admit that they cared for each other out loud. That didn’t stop people from thinking Jade was the more capable and reliable brother than Floyd, cunning and mischief aside.
Floyd was the one who helped you out whenever he could. He was the one who spent the most time with you in Mostro Lounge. He was the one who made a beeline towards you every time he saw even a glimpse of your head. He was the one who made you laugh and smile, especially whenever he noticed that you were down in the dumps.
He found himself in the courtyard, and his mood soured more at the sight of the fountain. The memory of you, laughing and sitting like a drenched duck in the water, overlapped with the image. Grumbling, he kicked a pebble off the path and clenched his jaw.
“Ah…” Floyd sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before ruffling the locks on the back of his head. His feet halted right in front of the fountain, with its clear and burbling water. Looking down at his reflection, he saw your face beside his—all smiles and eyes hiding behind your cheeks. His heart felt weird, as if being strangled by some invisible force that Floyd couldn’t punch nor squeeze.
He clicked his tongue and looked away from his reflection. With a frustrated groan, he mumbled to himself, “Why did it have to be Jade, Shrimpy? I’d fight tooth and nail for ya, but it’s Jade.”
With that, Floyd kicked the base of the fountain like a petulant child. A dull crack echoed in the desolate courtyard, before water gushed out of the broken stone. It spilled through the fissure, and Floyd took a step back to keep his shoes from getting drenched.
He frowned again and stalked off to find something else to occupy his time with. The afternoon sun showered the courtyard with a golden glow, which only reminded him of the time the sunlight illuminated your grinning face as you laughed.
“Why’d it have to be you, Prefect?” Floyd mumbled, shoulders sagging and foot kicking another pebble in the way. Maybe, in the near future, he’d get bored and forget about you. His heart wouldn’t do that weird pitter-patter, and his lips wouldn’t twitch into a grin with one look at you. His chest wouldn’t grow fuzzy and warm. He wouldn’t get the urge to run to where you were whenever he wanted to see you—which was every day, honestly.
Floyd hoped he would forget about you, but you were so difficult to forget. He’d never find someone else who captured his interest this much. He’d never find someone who looked so beautiful, even if the noises that left them were unattractive and childish. Even if their smile was too wide to be natural. Even if they were fascinated by him at first sight, rather than scared and intimidated.
No one else would be like you, but you just had to like his brother instead.
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givekennyabreak · 1 month ago
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You got a friend in me. (Platonic!Victor Kavanaugh x gn!reader)
Summary: Victor had no one to count on, but then - you arrived in town.
Word count: 1.39k (oops again)
Request: "Fantastic! Okay, in that case: maybe something with a twentysomething female reader (maybe someone who’s been there for a while with him to look out for her/vice-versa). I don’t really have any specific prompt in mind, but I do remember that when I saw the scene where Julie calls out Jade for the way he speaks to Jim for the first time, I immediately thought “I’d love to see something like that, but with someone standing up for Victor.” I dunno—it’d just be nice to see someone really caring about him. Most of the others all have their little pockets of found family, and he’s pretty much by himself."
Rating: T
Warnings: canon compliant cursing, mentions of death, spoilers from s1 and s2 (up to episode 3), jade calls reader "mama bear" but there's no use of pronouns or anything defining gender, 2nd person pov ig
Note: I ended up making this gender neutral without noticing lmaooo, this gif of victor is everything. give my dude a break pls
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Victor was your friend.
Ever since you got in this nightmare-like town, in your mid-twenties, fresh outta university, after a trip to a new city with better job offers in your area of study, Victor has been a breath of fresh air.
Everyone had a role in town – be it to feed everyone, like Tian-Chen, or be a leader like Boyd and Donna (in Colony House, at least); everyone had a little part to play, usually worrying about whether you’d get home safely before nightfall, or if the crops were healthy, if the animals were fed.
But Victor didn’t.
He did worry, but his brain wasn’t the same as everyone else’s; he stayed alone for far too long, way too young – call it a self-defense mechanism, but his mind stayed in a perpetual child-like state, as innocent as possible in a place like this personal hell. He had a good heart, was a little awkward (again, stayed alone for too long. That’s understandable) and cared about his friends, even though they were few – you, Fatima and Ethan included.
So new people tended to look at him a little weird.
Jim Matthews was one of them, but he quickly noticed Victor wasn’t a bad person.
(You had just eaten a couple of fluffy pancakes, sitting at the counter of the diner; Victor came in and started talking to the kid who arrived with the new family. It was nice seeing him make more friends, even if it was a kid – they had similar ways of thinking, anyway.
Then, his dad stormed out of the bathroom, nearly shouting at Victor; rightfully so, it was understandable he’d find it weird an unknown middle-aged man sitting and talking to his son, but this – it was too much. You stood up, walking up to the commotion; Jim was red in the face, threatening Victor.
“You don't come near him. You don't talk to him. Do you understand me? Stay the fuck away from him.”
“Hey.” You interrupted, staying beside Victor. “Hi. I know you’re new here and all, but you don’t know us, any of us. So maybe don’t be too quick to judge others based on what you know – which is nothing.”
You smiled down at the kid, who looked so fucking lost.
“Victor is a good person, and I’m pretty sure your dad is too, right?” You looked back up at the man, who had become silent. “Set a good example for your kid – don’t threaten people.”
Jim scowled. “Come on, time to go.”)
It was good to see his development (even though it was minimal).
And then, Victor didn’t come home. And that other new guy invaded his room while you were in town – this batch of newbies wasn’t so great -, ignoring Ethan’s pleading (which he told you about later that day, cheeks red with anger. He is a good kid.), so the next morning you went down the road towards the place he was staying at.
And saw Victor right outside his door.
Relief flooded your mind and body at that; he was alive, of course he was – he was smart, he figured out a way. As you got near the house, you could hear their conversation; Jade sighed out a breath, somehow also relieved.
“Oh, you're back. Holy shit. This is great. This is great.”
“That's mine.” Victor pointed at the violin, reaching out to the wooden instrument. “Give it back to me.”
 “Yeah. Uh...”
“Give it back to me.”
“I'm sorry, alright.”
“Give it back to me.”
Jade looked down at it, blinking.  “I was just thinking I could just play it for a little bit...”
“Give it back to me!” He shouted, startling the younger man.
“Okay! Alright. Calm down, man. Here.”
The violin was handed back to Victor, who turned around on the porch. “That's my room! You don't go in my room!” He shouted and walked away, leaving a baffled Jade on the doorway. You stood still, waiting for him to come up the dirt road.
“Okay. Wait! Oh, hold on. Hey!” Jade ran out of the house, flipping through the pages on the notebook. “Slow down! I'm sorry, Okay? I shouldn't have gone in your room. I thought you were fucking dead. I've been looking everywhere for you.” He ranted.
“There's this symbol that I keep seeing. I mean, I keep seeing things that aren't actually there, but every time I do, there's this symbol, and there's this book that Kenny's mom gave me. Some guy kept drawing the same symbol and there's a picture- would you please just fucking stop!” Jade shouted, and Victor stopped in his tracks, hesitant.
 “Look at this. Look at this.” Jade displayed the drawing in the little notebook. “There's gotta be a reason I'm seeing this everywhere.”
He held up a polaroid. “This guy. He must've been seeing it too. Right? And look, right there. Right in the back.” His index finger pointed at a small boy in the back of the picture, right in front of the diner. “That's you, right? Maybe in some fucked-up way, this could be the key to getting the hell out of here. I mean, Jesus, all this time. Don't you wanna go home?”
Your heart squeezed at his words - that wasn’t fair.
Victor frowned. “You shouldn't have touched this. It's not yours. Stay away from me!”
“Well, fuck you too! Wait, uh... Fuck.”
Your friend walked right past you, still frowning, and you let him go back to colony house – you’d have the whole afternoon and night to talk with him. Right now, your attention was settled on the curly-haired man a few meters away from you, wide-eyed as he noticed your form approaching.
“Oh fuck, it's mama bear- wait-”
“Do you have any fucking idea,” You walked up to him, poking him on the chest – he walked back a few steps, wincing. “how long he stayed here? Alone, scared, as a fucking kid?”
“I’m-”
You interrupted him again. “No, you don’t. You DON’T. Because we all got to grow up in a world that isn’t so much as a sliver of the shit we see here. We want to go home, I want to go home, but this place is ALL he got to know. As heartbreaking as it is,” You closed your hands into fists, jaw set so tight your teeth might snap. “this is the home he knows. This is what he knows as normal.”
Jade went silent. He didn’t think about it this way – it didn’t even cross his mind.
“So think hard before you talk to him again.” You turned around, brows furrowed. “And fucking apologize, you asshole.”
 When you got home, the first thing you did was go up to Victor’s room; you knocked on the door, four slow raps so he’d know it was you. And so, slowly, the door opened, and you invited yourself in.
Victor sat on his bed, head hanging low and violin on his desk.
“Hey, bud.” You sat down beside him, and he threw his arms around your shoulders almost instantly. Your own arms circled his chest, and your head placed itself on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay. I got really worried.”
“’m sorry. It took me a while.” He mumbled, cheek resting on your head.
“I know. It’s not your fault, I’m really happy you’re back in one piece.” You said, patting his back the way you knew would calm him down. “And don’t mind what Jade said, okay? He’s stupid.”
Victor nodded. “Yes, he makes me angry.”
“He makes most of us angry, don’t worry.” You finally let go of him, and he drew back from the hug as well; he looked tired. “I know what’s going to make us feel better.”
You stood up, pointing at your own room. “I’m gonna get some blankets.”
He brightened up. “Blanket fort?”
You nodded your head in affirmation. “Blanket fort.”
He smiled. “I’ll help.”
Victor was a good friend.
Sometimes he made you worry; most newbies looked at him weird, some people didn’t like him – but he was your friend, he was your little found family in this nightmare town.
And, even if you never got out of here, it was okay – because you had a good friend by your side, and Victor would never let you down.
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homunculus-argument · 1 year ago
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I think George R. R. Martin brushed past something similar in concept in ASoIaF, with a few characters referring to themselves in ways like saying "a man has no name" to say "I have no name", and later on in some interview saying that's actually a thing somewhere in the setting, but I think it would be fun to have a worldbuilding thing of a people whose language straight-up doesn't have personal pronouns, or where the line between pronouns and simply nouns is so blurred that technically speaking you could say that the amount of words you could use as pronouns is infinite.
Like in finnish, lacking gendered pronouns, people occasionally refer to someone who isn't present as "the/that girl/boy/man/woman" for clarity. There's a specific word ("tytötellä/tytöttely") for the thing where adult women are referred to as "girls", and if I recall right, the varying Japanese first person pronouns depend on one's gender and status in whatever situation they are in, so you can draw a lot of conclusions about a character by whether they say "I am" as watashi wa or boku wa in the same external context.
But what if you took this kind of a thing and wrote a language where there are no pronouns? A language that does not have words for "I", "you", "he/she/they", or even "it", but where whatever word you choose to use to refer to yourself or other people, and whom you are addressing is only distinguished by a prefix or suffix. So there is no "neutral" way of saying "I want to see you", but sapphic poetry is full of sentences like "a woman(myself) wants to see a woman(you, whom I address now)". And you cannot say a thing without showing how you see yourself and others.
It's an observable part of growing up to notice when a kid stops referring to himself as "a boy" and starts using "a man", someone raising into a new status takes a moment of adjustment to learn how to refer to themselves at work as "the supervisor", or someone revealing their past by slipping into an old form of address by saying "a soldier" when they should have said "a passenger" on a train.
Many people go through their whole lives not really thinking about it, going from referring to themselves as "a child" (there is no common use of "baby" as first person, as babies naturally don't know how to talk yet, so as soon as a child starts talking in sentences, they'll just use their name or the word for "child"), and move on through age, gender, and social role words through their life arc, but some people do get creative with it, such as making a pregnancy announcement by unexpectedly referring to themselves as "a mother", or someone who royally screwed up sending a text
"A disaster(1st person) is coming home, hoping that a wife(2nd person) can forgive."
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syd-vixious · 1 year ago
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“I Need a Big Boy!!”
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(Picture credit to @akavendeta on twitter)
Pairing: König x gn!reader; “Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader; König x gn!reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley
Warnings: Groping, language, strong men being strong (not proofread)
2nd Person POV
A/N: Hey everyone! I’m so, SO sorry that this took so long. I’ve been having a lot of stuff going on and haven’t gotten the chance to finish this. Sorry if this sucks too. Also I was thinking about instead of doing just the biggest, sweetest boy, I figure I’d add the other big boy. This is definitely gonna be cringe but whatever, I need to get this out of my brain. My apologies if there’s any spelling mistakes, it’s been a minute since I’ve written anything lol. Also this is going based off of my personal headcannons for these guys, which I do plan on posting in the future. For now just a heads up König is Pansexual and goes by he/him pronouns. Simon is Bi and goes by both he/him and they/them pronouns. Obviously they’re in a poly! relationship with the reader. I’m going to try my best with making it gender neutral and not have it just be non-binary!afab!reader, which is fine on my end but I’m trying to be as inclusive as possible.
Anyway, enough of my ranting, I hope you enjoy!
(Btw italicized words is anyone thinking unless it’s in quotations.)
It’s been about two weeks since your partners have come home from deployment. Simon was out running errands for the house while König was getting the kitchen set up for dinner. Thankful for both of them letting you relax on your day off, you were watching the most recent episode of SNL that you missed last weekend on the sofa in the main living area. The episode had Keke Palmer as the host and SZA as the musical guest. After watching the episode for about 20 minutes, SZA and the other actors that were a part of the SNL crew began singing a song about wanting a “big boy,” or “big girl,” for the holidays. A brilliant idea popped up in your mind while you were reaching for your phone during the commercial break.
If I recall my bluetooth speaker should still be in the kitchen from this morning. Hm, let me check.
You went to the settings on your phone to see of the speaker was on to connect, even though it was on the charger.
It was.
You smirked, hitting the button to connect your phone to the speaker. König was still preparing everything when he heard the noise from the device. 
“Schatz?”
Shit... “Yeah..?”
“Were you connecting to the speaker?”
You quickly turned down the volume on your phone in case it accidentally played anything. “Uh no, why?”
“It just made an odd.. boodoop noise? I guess you could call it...? I’m not really sure.”
You smiled softly at the curiosity in his voice, even though he couldn’t see your face from the other room, “It just makes that noise sometimes when it’s charging, babe.”
He shrugged and continued prepping any veggies that he wanted to add to dinner.
You sighed in relief and quickly pulled up Youtube on your phone and found the video within typing the artist’s name in the search bar. You turned your volume back up and began playing the song. 
He jumped from the sudden song playing on the device, startled by the heavy beat it was erupting. 
“Uhh... Schatz...?” He asked as he heard voices and heavy bass coming from the speaker.
You walked into the kitchen on the beat of the song singing out loud, “It’s cuffing season and now we got a reason,
To get a big boy,
I need a big boy,
Gimme a big boy!~”
You slowly made your way towards him while pointing at him whenever you lip-synced “big boy.”
Meanwhile König froze and looked at you with wide eyes. You could begin to see red spread across his face as he started to get flustered. “(Y-y/n)... w-what’s happening...?”
You smirked and continued “singing” the song,
“It’s cuffing season and all the girls are leaving to get a big boy, I need a big boy, gimme a big boy.~”
You couldn’t really remember the rest of the lyrics but kept on dancing as you made your way to him on the other side of the kitchen. He was flustered and began stammering, “W-What’s all this about..?”
You pulled a cheshire cat grin and simply hugged him, resting your head on his torso with your arms around his slutty waist. “Just singin’ about one of my big boys is all,” you slowly slid your hands down to grab his ass, causing him to yelp and jump slightly in your arms. 
You could hear his heartbeat racing, it began pumping even faster when you two heard the front door open, signaling Simon was home. “Ohhh Siiii.~” You sang from the kitchen. 
He heard you call and walked into the kitchen, not really paying any mind to the music, until you pointed it out...
“It’s cuffing season and everyone is leaving to get a big boy, I need a big boy, give me a big boy.~”
Needless to say he was confused, “how and where did they find a song like this?” he thought to himself as you sauntered over to him, once again wrapping your hands around his waist and slowly moving them down. He glanced up at König for some sort of answer, but the gentle giant only shrugged, red still tinting his cheeks.
“Love, have you been drinking? Are you horny? If so, it’ll have to wait because we haven’t even had dinner yet.” He asked, pulling off his face mask from running to the store earlier. 
You sighed and smirked a little, pinching one of Simon’s cheeks, “No, it’s just a song that I heard on a show and it reminded me of you guys.”
He quickly snatched your hands off his ass, “Oi!”
He quickly picked you up and placed you on an empty part of the island countertop. He leaned over to your ear, “Love, you better watch it, or you’re just gonna have to watch us eat dessert tonight...”
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o-pandora-o · 9 months ago
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Hello, Pandora! I saw that your askbox is open for WHB (hopefully still is, and if not, please ignore this 🙇)
I just thought of this one: what if MC is kidnapped during a battle? I know the angels would kill them on the spot, but for the sake of the plot... 😂 How would the 4 kings react/feel and go about saving MC?
I don't know what would be better - headcanons, drabble, whatever strikes your fancy and inspiration if you feel like doing this ☺️
Thank you and have a great day/night!
Kings React to MC being Kidnapped
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Warnings: Profanity/curse words, used gender-neutral pronouns. I didn't write Lucifer because I don't want him to be OOC. I used MC instead of 2nd person POV since I know some people don't wanna see MC and reader/you/your name(y/n) in a similar manner.
a/n: Thank you for this request anon! Sorry if it kinda took some time 😔. Nonetheless, hope you enjoy this! I hope I answered your request correctly 🥺 if not, please do say so. Thank you so much again! For those asking, requests/asks are open!
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Satan
🩸Everything happened too fast, he was busy battling Cherubs, he didn't notice the Angel slipped by him and got MC. All he heard was Sitri and Ppyong screaming "SOLOMON!!!" "MCCCC".
🩸Next thing Sitri and Ppyong heard was crunching sounds from His Majesty Satan.
🩸Satan emitted a red smoke, the next thing happened all the Cherubs and Angels were lifeless on the cold floor.
🩸Satan was so mad, but he was very focused. He followed the angel so fast he managed to catch up. The angel and MC were almost at the border of Gehenna until Satan stopped them.
"What do you have there huh? Stealing what's mine?" Satan said with a bloody grin on his face.
🩸The angel held the MC hostage. "Get back or they die" oh boy was it a bad thing to do.
🩸MC was so pissed and tried to headbutt the angel, but it was to no avail. But MC's wrath is filling up Satan though.
" 'Get back or they die' ? What if you go first, huh? " Satan was speedy enough and punched the angel so hard that they fainted. Satan went near MC to check possible injuries.
"That's fucking right. You get what you deserve for taking hostage what's mine." The angel woke up and tried to self destruct but Satan threw the angel far enough.
🩸Satan looked at MC and kissed them. "What was that for?" MC asked. "My reward for saving you" Satan replied with a grin.
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Mammon
🪙MC was roaming around Tartaros when angels invaded the country. There were around 3-4 groups of 77 angels with some cherubs and Michael blasting building per building.
🪙MC was with Bimet but the angels were too many. Bimet told MC to run but an angel caught you and flew away.
"You think you can run away? You filthy human!" the angel said as it clutched to MC's arms and torso.
🪙As the angel talked, they didn't notice the giant gold hand in front of them. The giant hand manage to catch both angel and MC.
"This is what happen when I don't keep my treasure for myself. Someone steals them away..." MC heard this voice and immediately recognized that it was Mammon's.
🪙The angel tried his best to cut down the golden hand but it was useless. The golden hand opened, the angel and MC immediately saw Mammon.
🪙The angel saw Mammon and tried to self-destruct. Mammon was quick enough to get MC, and turned around while kind of hugging them protectively. "I should have kept a close eye on my treasure or else they'll steal you again" Mammon said as he was still hugging MC.
🪙MC could feel Mammon's strong hands on their rear though. All's well that ends well ig?
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Beelzebub
🕶️It all started when Beel kidnapped MC leaving an angry Satan screaming "BELLLLLL BRING THEM BACKKKK"
🕶️When Beel and MC are midway to Avisos, some angels came up and so Beel had no choice but to put them down to kill angels at the speed of light.
🕶️There were too many, and apparently one speedy angel got MC, earning a scream from them.
🕶️You think the angels were fast? Think again.
🕶️Beel was actually running so fast he was actually looking at the angel with closed eyes and a grin!
"I see you have my food there! Thank you very much for holding them!" Beel said, still eyes closed and grinning like a madman
"Oh! And thank you for being my dinner for today!" Beel said, as he beheaded the angel and caught MC on his arms.
🕶️MC didn't notice Beel actually looted the angel.
🕶️Well, if MC and Beel went to dinner with food he cooked himself after that battle... *Coughs* MC please find a new dish to eat.
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Leviathan
⚰️Angels have invaded Hades yet again, this time with several groups with Seraphs involved.
⚰️MC was eating in the palace with Leviathan. Foras reported angels invasion and it seemed that the angel groups targeted the Palace. Foras and the others will be engaging in battle.
⚰️Few moments had passed and several explosions in the palace had happened. The last straw was the main hall had a hole and one of the speedy cherubs almost grabbed MC but stopped by Leviathan.
⚰️Leviathan now engages in battle, angels of many ranks keep swarming the main hall, targeting MC.
"How did these fools get inside?" Leviathan glares, as he battles the angels.
"Apologies, your Majesty. Some of the angels were long ranged explosive shooters..." Foras said as he hurried inside and battled off some angels.
⚰️Leviathan pushed MC into the coffin but Seraph's power kept MC from teleporting to a safe place. Making Leviathan glare even more.
"Can't teleport little Mx. Prey now can't you?" One of the seraph exclaimed. "Thank you for making this easy for us!" A cherub added.
⚰️Leviathan was really mad, however, he didn't notice another seraph approached and grabbed MC. The Seraph's ability is pure invisibility. When he saw it, he was too late.
"Oopsies! Looks like I got the Prey Gabriel marked! Thanks for the me-" the seraph exclaimed but it was cut when Leviathan uttered a "Haaaah? Who said that you could talk to me like that!".
⚰️The seraph's neck was strangled by tentacles, and each of the tentacles were killing angels one by one. Levi got MC back after the bloodbath.
"All of you! Useless! Hang for an hour!" Leviathan uttered to all of his attendants.
⚰️Levi also hanged himself despite MC saying they're alright. But they also think Levi likes to be hanged anyways.
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fndmfrenzy · 1 month ago
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I rewatched Death Note focusing on the japanese 1st person pronouns the characters use (because I'm an otaku and I find it interesting). I'm not an expert, so I'm mainly going to point out everyone's pronouns and add a little analysis/opinion based on what I know or read online about their usage. Some characters probably won't get explanations because I have nothing to say. Also: since this is a piece of fiction the pronouns can tell us more about someone's personality. Also: I can only analyze the formality of the pronouns not the rest of the speech, because I don't know japanese that well!
Warning: like half of this post is about Higuchi because he's funny to me. And I included all of Yotsuba, who are pretty minor characters.
Kira Task Force:
Light Yagami Starting with Light as the main character, his pronoun of choice is 僕 (ぼく/boku). Boku is typically used by boys and young men. It's considered polite and humble. If I'm not mistaken only 2 other characters in Death Note use boku (Matsuda and Hatori from Yotsuba). It's a fitting pronoun for the perfect student and son, Light Yagami. It also gives a funny contrast to his ego-driven Kira speeches.
There is a couple of situations when Light uses 私 (わたし/watashi) (because it's gender neutral, and more... neutral in general). It's when he acts as L or Kira on the phone with someone, so in situations where he's trying to hide his identity.
L L uses 私 (わたし/watashi). It's gender neutral and usually used by men in formal settings. L comes accross as wanting to sound polite (he always uses honorifics for people, even correcting himself one time when he forgets to do so with Matsuda).
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He yells out "Matsuda", but then corrects it to "Matsuda-san". He also calls Light "Light-kun" or "Yagami-kun". It's a funny contrast that he cares about this, because otherwise he isn't very polite (especially to Matsuda).
In the anime (sadly I don't think he uses any pronouns in that scene in the manga) when he calls Matsuda (who's in Yotsuba building) and pretends to be his friend he uses 俺 (おれ/ore).
Matsuda As I said earlier, he uses the same pronouns as Light - boku. He's the youngest member of the Task Force (save for Light and L) and his pronoun gives him that youthful feeling.
One situation I've heard him use a different pronoun was when he got busted by the Yotsuba Group, and introduced himself with 私 (わたくし/watakushi) - an even more polite version of watashi. Oh, he also uses watashi on Sakura TV, for similar reasons to Light's usage of watashi.
Soichiro Yagami 私 (わたし/watashi). I don't think he's ever shown using a different one? We only see most of the Kira Task Force at work, so it's expected that they all use formal pronouns.
Aizawa 私 (わたし/watashi). Except for when he's quitting the Task Force, then he switches to 俺 (おれ/ore). Ore is a masculine informal pronoun, considered more rude and rough. He's angry at L and it shows.
Mogi 私 (わたし/watashi), I think, but he doesn't talk much.
Team Kira:
Misa Amane Misa's main pronoun is her name. She basically talks about herself in 3rd person, which might sound silly in english, so most translations don't include it. It's cutesy and childlish and she probably does this as part of her idol persona.
She also uses 私 (わたし/watashi) at times (which is basically the most common pronoun used by women). As I mentioned before, it's considered formal when men use it, but for women it can be both formal and informal. Well, she uses it formally (when it's weird to just use Misa) for example in the Yotsuba interview. And of course, just like Light she uses watashi when posing as Kira (on the tapes in Sakura TV, on the phone in the 2nd part of the series).
Here's Misa using watashi during the interview:
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Teru Mikami 私 (わたし/watashi)
Kiyomi Takada 私 (わたし/watashi)
Shinigami:
Ryuk 俺 (おれ/ore)
Rem 私 (わたし/watashi)
Yotsuba Arc:
Most of my research comes from Yotsuba arc (like all the specific examples above...) so I'm including the Yotsuba Group guys. But first, others from this arc.
Aiber 俺 (おれ/ore) usually, 私 (わたし/watashi) when acting as Eraldo Coil.
Wedy 私 (わたし/watashi)
Yotsuba Group: First I have to say that we see them most of them only at work, so they're going to use formal pronouns.
Hatori 僕 (ぼく/boku), but he uses watashi once when keeping watch on Matsui.
Takahashi He doesn't use any in the Kira Meetings (because he doesn't talk much). I'm pretty sure I heard him using ore (maybe at the party?), but I couldn't find it in the manga.
Namikawa 私 (わたし/watashi)
Mido 私 (わたし/watashi)
Shimura He actually is only shown using 俺 (おれ/ore). Even at the meetings. He's a very unassuming guy, so I feel like there's a contrast with him using the informal ore with his coworkers, when most of the others use watashi.
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Namikawa and Mido still use formal watashi, even when the three of them are hanging out at Mido's house. The only one using ore is again, Shimura.
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I think thanks to his kind personality his usage of ore gives a sense of familiarity, instead of sounding crass.
Ooi 私 (わたし/watashi) in the meetings. In a call with Kida, he uses 俺 (おれ/ore). I want to add that in a work setting ore can be used by people that are either older or in superior positions. Ooi is the oldest in the group, and de facto leads the meetings, but idk if it means anything. Maybe he uses watashi with the group, but ore one-on-one? Maybe that's the etiquette?
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Kida 私 (わたし/watashi)
Higuchi We get more scenes with him and we get to see him switching pronouns. One of them is 私 (わたし/watashi). He uses it in those situations: - talking to Rem (and/or himself). He seems to respect her so he's usually formal when talking to her. This might be also him talking to himself, but since Rem's there let's assume it's at least half-aimed at her... Anyway, here Higuchi talks about marrying Misa:
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Even when giving this ego-driven speech (again, about marrying Misa and some more...) he uses watashi:
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Talking with Rem in the car:
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- thinking. He's kinda inconsistent because he thinks with both watashi and ore. Mostly watashi though. Maybe he uses ore when he feels more confident? Here after confessing to Misa he's Kira:
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And some more:
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At least in two of those he's like "my life is over, i'll lose my job... oh and go to jail and maybe die... but my job...!"
- in formal/business setting. Ok that's a stretch, but before making this post I was convinced he used it more in the series. We can assume he would in a formal situation, but it doesn't happen in the manga so I have no proof. Huh. Here he pretends to be a lost businessman before shooting Light's dad:
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Then there's 俺 (おれ/ore). It's typically used by men around family and friends. It can sound cocky, and indicates a sense of masculinity. Situations where Higuchi uses ore include:
- talking to coworkers. Higuchi doesn't talk that much during meetings and if he does he doesn't use any pronouns. I was wondering if he's more like Ooi (watashi during meetings, ore outside meetings) or Shimura (always ore). I think it's the second based on these two panels:
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At least I think it's him talking to Shimura? This moment was cut from the anime so we don't know who's saying it, but it fits Higuchi (and the person saying it uses ore so that excludes most of the people there). The panel below it shows him responding to Mido with ore.
Below are other moments he uses ore with coworkers, during the Misa interview and on the phone with Mido:
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Like with most things Higuchi does I think he's going for nonchalant, but it comes across as sloppy and disrespectful. Just look at him here:
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His chair is so far back, he's leaning in it with crossed arms. He's trying to show how much he doesn't give a fuck about this interview... Even if it's in his interest to get info about L from Misa! Talk about posturing.
- date with Misa, including his Kira confession. I think it's common for men to use ore when talking to women they're pursuing? I've read about a shoujo manga where the male lead usually uses watashi, but it's a big moment when he switches to ore with the female lead to show he's serious about her (/interested in her romantically).
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- thinking. This one happens before he confesses he's Kira:
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And he uses ore after making the eye deal when he's like "I'm invincible" (lol). I don't know what to get from this, but there's like 3 panels where he thinks with ore as compared to 6+ with watashi.
Wammy's house:
Near 私 (わたし/watashi)
Mello 俺 (おれ/ore). He's the odd one out when compared to formal L and Near. Well, he is a thug and works with the mafia.
Matt 俺 (おれ/ore). I was surprised to find it so easily considering his lack of screentime.
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blusherbaker · 7 months ago
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Some extra thoughts about the Octavinelle boys' kinks
Minors/ageless blogs DNI; all characters are 18+ for these scenarios
I'm back with few more ideas I had, expanding on this post of mine
Warnings: Smut, 2nd person and 3rd person neutral pronouns, discussion/mention of multiple kinks of different varieties, including those related to D/s dynamics, feeding and stuffing, lactation, etc.
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It is somewhat dependent on how he feels at the time, but Azul usually finds bondage to be incredibly soothing. The sensation is comforting, and it gives him a sense of security and safety, especially since there is so much trust involved. He’d be likely to even give mummification a try at some point, and would almost definitely like it. (He finds it cozy/safe, as well as arousing.)
I'm 95% sure that the Leech twins would like something to do with feeding and/or stuffing. They both (canonically!) have a focus on feeding others, and watching others eat - especially Floyd - and Jade often talks about eating, and/or is shown eating huge quantities of food. It’s a little wild, actually! Chances are, Floyd prefers to feed his partner, whereas Jade prefers being fed (though he also enjoys feeding too), and it seems likely to me that Floyd would be more interested in feeding, whereas Jade would be more interested in stuffing. 
I'm certain that Jade likes seeing people cry. He'd find it not only amusing, but in the right situation, incredibly arousing as well. It wouldn't matter if his partner was a "pretty" or "ugly" crier, just watching them break down sobbing from emotion or sensation - seeing the effect he has on them - would excite him greatly. And if the tears were accompanied by babbling or begging? Jade would be in heaven. 
Floyd's lactation kink is mostly in the realm of interest / curiosity, rather than pure desire. While all three of these men don't have nipples in their original forms (since they're... y'know, not mammals), I think Floyd stumbled upon the concept of lactation, and simply found it to be especially fascinating. Like… people just make milk? And it's technically possible for anyone to do it? He finds the thought pretty hot, and would love to experience it in some form or another at some point. Whether that’s working towards you lactating, or possibly even inducing it in himself, Floyd may end up quite interested in this kink for a period of time!
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I'd love to hear your thoughts / opinions on this, or anything in the original post ^v^
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kani-miso · 4 months ago
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hngngngnggngn guyss what if the dude in the ending of the t2 summary, will influence es even further into their warden role (and maybe something really bad will happen)
we all know that the dude used "watashi" instead of jackalopes "ore-sama", this is really important. since we know in the novels, jackalope's aren't technically "jackalopes", they are technically "human", sort of. maybe, the dude who used watashi could be jackalope off of work, or the dude in the novel (the boss). the identity of that man isn't really important in this discussion, but i just want to find out ig.
what's important is, do you remember about the aviot collab? es' last test line is the main topic. (im to lazy to take the image). the line, "i(boku wa)... i(watashi.. wa..)...." iirc. the 1st "i", uses boku, their usual 1st person pronoun. boku is usually used by young boys, but in this case they're using it since boku is used by workers (boku is also gender neutral). the 2nd "i" uses watashi, they have NEVER used this 1st person. what if, the reason why they used watashi, is because of that dude in the ending of t2 summary using watashi. only we can hear that dude since he appeared when es is put to sleep, if they are taking reference off of that dude, how did they hear it? the viewers mind and es' mind is sorta connected (the reason why es can hear our thoughts).
before es is put to sleep, jackalope is awfully manipulative i will rip my guts out. "and anyway, whatever happens to them, none of it can be taken back. its not for the guard to worry about. that's right, you are the guard. don't doubt it. that is your job. as long as you dont forget that, it's fine. now that you understand, go to sleep, es."
its not for the guard to worry about : jackalope knows that es has their full trust on him, he's using that as a chance to take advantage of their own feelings, making them slowly lose empathy for the prisoners. also, maybe jackalope said this because he knows es feels guilty for what happened to the guiltied (…I'm sorry. I'm responsible for the fact that you've ended up like this.) ig he is supposed to be the representation of the all seeing eye in the panopticon.
that's right, you are the guard. don't doubt it : in some occasions, es doubted their role of being the warden (ex: "Guard-san"... Is that really... me?). since they're doubting their role, i think jackalope is trying to push the warden role onto them so they wont ever give up and become a vulnurable target of "manipulation" for the prisoners.
as long as you dont forget that, it's fine : yeah ig its self explanatory.
also, the last line, "oh yes, just as i predicted, you have all turned out to be...." its so smart. in the original milgram experiment, there are three results: 1. those who followed the rules but blamed themselves for what they did 2. those who followed the rules and felt great for what they did (because they thought they actually hurt the person) 3. those who rebelled and halted the experiment. in the back of the undercover cd, there's 3 es'
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and i think they can be connected to each of the results. the one on the top could be the 1st result, the one on the middle could be the 2nd result, and the third one could be the 3rd result.
i love how they just cut it off before he says what we all turned out since there's three results that could happen. because we technically have the idea of what es could end up after t3, i wonder how much farther would they go to be the ideal warden (especially with how jackalope is persuading es to not worry about what happens to the prisoners).
(+edit: a jp person translated the ending part where it glitches, its "you have all turned out to be psychopaths who enjoy other people's misery", which is technically the result of the real milgram experiment, even stanley milgram himself was horrified of the results, "a very high proportion of subjects would fully obey the instructions, with every participant going up to 300 volts, and 65% going up to the full 450 volts.".
i might be reaching too far so take this with a grain of salt
tldr; the dude at the end of t2 summary will worsen es
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