#sorry I hoarded this ask for years

[wrathofrats]

good morning wrath. imagine zephyr conditioning ifrit to cum on command

Kinktober day 8: hands free orgasm

Prompts by @kroas-adtam

Once for the father, twice for the son, three times for the Holy Ghost

Zephyr/ifrit

1.7k explicit, Warnings for: op doesn’t know what she’s talking about so don’t take this hella seriously, clicker training, it’s kinda manipulation, ifrit doesn’t really know he’s being clicker trained, exhibitionism

“My sweet boy, love making you feel good dragonfly” zephyr mumbled into his mouth. Ifrit gave a small whine of approval from the praise, earning another click. It had been going on for some time, small clicks here and there whenever zephyr touched him or let him fuck them. It made him feel good, the extra reassurance that he was doing something right making his head feel a relaxing sort of fuzzy.

Zephyr sat on top of his thighs with their hand around his cock. Slow strokes, a sweet smile on their face. They said they wanted to spoil him, loving being able to give their dog a treat. Ifrit heard a faint clicking sound as zephyr thumbed over the tip and precum dribbled over his shaft.

Zephyr could be sickly sweet when they really wanted to be. Cunning, something more sinister under their loving actions even if ifrit knew that Zeph only had his best interest in mind. Even the clink of the metal on his neck had his brain fizzling randomly, in the middle of conversations just remembering that zephyr made him wear it made him feel a little ditzier. A smile would plaster on his face, radiating sunshine practically, which always warmed zephyrs heart when they got to see and know what caused it.

Ifrit reached for zephyrs hair and dragged them forwards into his mouth, pulling them into a filthy opened mouth kiss. Another click. Zephyrs hand worked faster on his cock as ifrit shoved his tongue into their mouth. He was almost overwhelmingly hot like this, taken out of his usual rationality to completely submit to zephyr. It was hard to control his temperature.

“My sweet boy, love making you feel good dragonfly” zephyr mumbled into his mouth. Ifrit gave a small whine of approval from the praise, earning another click. It had been going on for some time, small clicks here and there whenever zephyr touched him or let him fuck them. It made him feel good, the extra reassurance that he was doing something right making his head feel a relaxing sort of fuzzy.

Zephyr trailed their free hand down his chest, squeezing at the soft muscle of his pecs. Ifrit gave another hum of approval as he bit at zephyrs lip, taking it between his teeth. His hips bucked up as his cock twitched in zephyrs hand.

“Close baby,” ifrit whispered out, his mouth barely still on zephyrs as he panted with need. The familiar warm feeling bubbled in his abdomen, ifrit whispering out small curses as he waited for zephyrs approval to be able to cum.

Zephs movements slowed, becoming more pointed as they watched ifrits face. He looked pathetic, desperate for approval as zephyr was rapidly pulling him closer to the edge without truly giving him that push to topple over.

“You really wanna cum for me? Really wanna make a mess all over my hand?”

“Please” zephyr had him squeezed at the base, looking straight into his fiery red eyes with a small smile pulling at the corner of their lips.

“Go ahead then, cum for me ifrit”

A double click, zephyrs hand stroking him in earnest for just a second before ifrit cried out. His claws dug into the sheets as he threw his head back with a loud groan, shooting hot and thick all over zephyrs fist. They squeezed more on the upstroke, practically milking it out of him before ifrit gave a pained whimper and tried to pull away.

Zephyr gave him loving praise and a small kiss before getting up to wipe off their hand that was starting to get tacky. The clicker was shoved back into the drawer, ifrit almost none the wiser to what zephyr was doing besides being able to associate the noise with pleasure.

The piece of plastic was kept in zephyrs pocket when they weren’t in bed. Taken from the bedside drawer to toy with just in case they were feeling risky, or if they thought ifrit needed that kind of reality check. The temptation was mouth watering, wondering exactly what he would do upon hearing it out of context, left horny and confused as to why all of the sudden he was straining against his jeans.

Ifrit sat in the corner of the couch with zephyr snuggled into his side. Their head rested on his shoulder as he spoke, one arm on the rest of the couch and one wrapped around Zeph. They weren’t fully paying attention to the conversation, aether and dew complaining about siblings faking illnesses to stay in the clinic or something.

The plastic felt almost heavy in their pocket, calling to zephyr just to conduct a simple experiment by giving the button a press.

The noise was faint, only being able to be heard by ifrit and zephyr. Ifrit gave a confused look down like he thought he had misheard something before continuing his conversation. The grip he had on zephs waist tightened a bit, his lip caught between his teeth.

His brain started to go slightly static at the edges, almost feeling as if he was tired more than anything else. Another small click went off beside him before he could examine the feeling any further. Ifrits breathing picked up slightly, a heat forming in his cheeks while his pants became tighter.

“You ok wildfire?” Zephyr whispered, looking up at him. Ifrit pulled the blanket further up himself in an attempt to hide whatever was happening. Maybe it was just one of those things that happens due to being topside.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you” his hand moved from around zephyrs waist to play with their hair. Long gray strands swirling around his fingers, he always wondered how it never got super tangled, especially since they usually had it up or braided. It helped calm him down a little bit, helped even out his breathing.

Another click bore itself into ifrits mind. His eyes felt heavier, the static starting to surround his thoughts and making it hard to speak or participate in the conversation fully. He tried to nod along and not let his eyes glaze over but he felt like he was truly starting to become stupid.

Ifrits cock was starting to get painfully hard trapped in his pants. He almost felt perverted, being so hard and clearly horny in front of dew and aether while zephyr laid into his side. The dumb temptation to shove his hand down and relieve some of the pressure was overwhelming. The fuzz around his brain truly made it seem like a good idea even as he tried to keep the last grip on his consciousness in order to not completely embarrass himself.

Ifrit gave a small squeeze to zephyrs hand, an almost cry for help as he started to lose himself to the feeling. It was nice, a sweet and comforting haze but it was hard to continue to keep up. Zephyr piped up immediately, inserting themself into the conversation so ifrit could relax a little and truly succumb into submission for them.

The metal collar felt heavier the more he slipped into the headspace. Cool metal against hot skin, still inconspicuous but the fact that only zephyr and ifrit knew made it that much better. There was another click, ifrits cock blurting precum from the head, no doubt about to make a small wet spot on his jeans.

He shifted slightly, trying to maybe get some friction in order to pull him back from the deep. He squeezed zephyrs hand again, just for reassurance. Zephyr held onto him tightly. They tried to keep him grounded enough to get through the conversation before they could whisk him back to their room to take care of him properly.

Ifrit grabbed zephyr tightly, biting his lip as he heard a double click from beside him. The heat in his abdomen grew, his eyes crossing as it ramped up in intensity. His cock twitched, shooting thick all over the front of his boxers before ifrit even had another second to think about it. Zephyr could feel him twitch, saw how he immediately flushed in embarrassment as he tried to figure out what just happened to him.

It was cute watching ifrit, waiting for him to shamefully admit he had just cum untouched for no good reason that he would know about. His eyes darted around, seeing if anyone had noticed beyond zephyr squeezing his hand back.

“I think I’m starting to get tired” ifrit finally mumbled out, staring at Zeph with wide eyes, hopefully convincing them to cut the conversation off so he could drag them back to their room.

“Think I am too dragonfly, sorry guys, think we are going to head to bed” zephyr gave a fake yawn before sitting up, grabbing ifrit to drag him away as he bashfully attempted to cover where he was sure there was a stain on his pants.

Ifrit closed the door behind him, his hands still shaking as he turned to look at zephyr. They were already reaching for his cheeks, dragging him down to pull him into a sweet kiss.

“What happened to you baby? You didn’t seem tired” Zephyr mumbles against his lip, pulling him closer.

“I… um”

“Seemed fidgety on the couch, something on your mind?��

Ifrit shifted his weight from one leg to the other, trying not to look zephyr in the eyes. He didn’t know what he was so embarrassed, they were mates after all. But he was still confused, head feeling fuzzy and not fully satisfied.

“Talk to me my love”

“I… think I came.. I don’t know-“

Zephyr gave a small giggle. They pressed their palm into ifrits clothed cock, kneading down and smiling when he hissed from the sensitivity and pressure.

“Could practically smell it on you, you get so red when you’re turned on dragonfly” ifrit whimpered at the words, putting his head on their shoulder and letting them touch him as they wished. His hips jumped forward into their hand, sensitivity melting into pleasure.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why” ifrit breathed, “need you so bad whisp”

Zephyr kept their little secret to themself, more than happy at being able to get ifrit all stupid and desperate with just the click of a button.

“Give me one more then I’ll clean you up dragonfly”

[muzzlemouths]

Were the DMD boys ever witnesses to a baby's firsts? Like first words or first steps?

Superstar Shopping Center, circa 1977

“Did you need help with that?”

Sun moseys up to a mother who looks like she’s got her hands full – literally. Four shopping bags balanced on one arm and a baby in the other. A second child — five or six, if he had to guess — clings to the tail of her mother’s jacket in lieu of a free hand, dressed in her Sunday Best. She ducks behind her mother’s arm as Sun nears and addresses him with a look tied between awe and apprehension.

Contrarily, her mother regards Sun with nothing but relief, handing over all but one of her bags the moment his hands extend to take them. “Well, thank you!” She reorients the remaining bag to sit at her elbow so the little girl at her side has a proper handhold and gently scolds her for continuing to hide.

“It’s quite alright,” Sun assures her with a kind smile. He crouches to be more at eye-level with the child and offers her a little wave, taking no offense to the way she peeks only slightly out from behind her mother. “That’s a very pretty dress,” he says. It’s a Carter's collared plaid, Christmas-time red, with a white dog-eared collar and rabbit embroidery. Perfectly suited for the season. “Are you headed somewhere special?”

“Just down to Shutterbug,” the mother laughs, answering Sun’s question when her daughter doesn’t budge. “I know it’s still early in the season, but I have an endless list of things to get around to before the month’s end, so we’re just going to get our photos done now, and the family will just receive their cards a little early, this year.”

“Oh, certainly,” he nods sagely, as if he’s even once sent a Christmas card himself, “better to get it over and done with before everyone and their mother realizes they’ve forgotten to sign and seal their envelopes!”

“Exactly!” She laughs again. “I figure, well, I might as well get some gift shopping done since I’m already here, but–”

Right on cue, the infant in her arms begins to wail his poor little head off, and she grimaces.

“Finding it hard to get anything done with your hands full?” Sun asks, waiting for her nod before continuing. “Well, that’s nothing I can’t fix! I could carry your other bags for you, or–”

“Could you babysit?”

He straightens with a jolt, nearly dropping the bags he already carried in the process. “Oh! Well, um, company policy doesn’t exactly allow me to–”

“It would just be for a few minutes. An hour, at most.” She gives him a pleading look. “You’re coded with childcare protocols, aren’t you?”

“I–” Sun scrambles for an answer. “My training extends to some childcare etiquette, but–”

“Perfect!” She lofts the infant into his arms like he is nothing more than a small sack of potatoes. “This is George. He’s nine months old as of last week, was just changed, and ate an hour ago, so he should be an angel for you.”

“W-What about his shoes?” He tucks the child against his shoulder and gestures worriedly towards his itty little toes, clothed in nothing but the navy blue footie he wears.

“Oh, don’t be silly, he’s still too young!” The woman insists, “George has only just learned how to crawl, I doubt he’ll be walking any time soon. You have nothing to worry about!”

“But–”

“I’ll come find you in an hour when I’m all finished up. Thank you again!”

The mother turns on her heel like she’s being chased out by fire, leaving Sun there in the center of the mall aisle, still as a statue and stunned into silence.

There was a kernel of truth to his words. Both he and Moon had been programmed with the know-how in terms of child rearing basics, and in fact it was the very first frame of coding that he recalls having. For what purpose, he isn’t sure. It has lied dormant beneath layers of more relevant protocols for years and only ever makes an appearance when he’s interacting with the few children the mall sees from time to time. Even still, it is nothing in the way of proper training for how to care for an infant so small, and for so long.

Needless to say, he was panicking.

The first thing he does after quieting the infant’s cries is find another employee and hand off the bags, instructing them to be brought to Shutterbug and kept behind the desk for the time being.

With his hands freed he can focus all of his attention on the child who, for what it’s worth, has been a perfect angel in the short time since he was haphazardly carted into Sun’s arms. Quiet as a church mouse after that first little outburst, and just as cute, too, the little bundle of joy looking up at him with big brown eyes full of wonder.

Sun returns his gaze with a long sigh. “Now then, what are we going to do with you?”

The protocols that once were dormant now rose to the surface and screamed at him to engage the child in “stimulating activities“, whatever that meant. Instructions for playtime involved everything from games like peekaboo and patty-cake to more developmental activities, such as playing music, coloring, or toying with building blocks. Sun doubted that Bee Gees’ hit single “Stayin’ Alive” was anything in the way of educational for the tiny tot as it played over the speakers, and — to the best of his knowledge — he can’t recall ever having access to building blocks or coloring books. That left nothing but the traditional baby games, tried and true, and easy enough!

He borrows a small blanket from a store nearby and finds a cozy spot on the floor, tucked safely between two plant boxes, to set him down. Sun finds that playing these games comes almost naturally to him — but that’s a given, isn’t it? He follows the instruction manual in his code to the letter, pride and joy overwhelming his stint of uncertainty each time he comes out from hiding behind his hands to the sound of shrill laughter, every “Peek-a-boo!” earning him a motley of giggles and a baby-toothed smile.

Distraction arrives in the form of an employee struggling to carry a stack of boxes into the store behind him. He’s on his feet and across the room in an instant as one protocol briefly overrides the other, and it’s only for a moment — just a moment — but when he turns around again it is to the sight of an empty blanket.

His charge has gone missing.

Panic overwhelms every one of his sensors, rushing along his circuits like adrenaline through veins gripping him with a fear so potent it threatens to shut down his system right then and there.

No, think! His mother said he had only just learned to crawl, which meant little George couldn’t have gone far. Unless the infant hadn’t gone anywhere by himself at all, and rather, someone had come along and–

Sun shut down that train of thought the moment it struck him. He would never forgive himself if something so terrible happened on his watch, saying nothing of what management would do to him if a child was abducted right from under his nose.

He decides the best course of action right now is to follow the same protocol he would use for any other “lost” child. Yes, lost, that’s all they were. It’s so easy to get lost in a mall as large as this one. Sun comforts himself with the knowledge that he has never let a lost child go unfound before. His success rate is a perfect 100%, and he intends to keep it that way.

First, he scans the security cameras for any sight of the child. He is sure to look in every nook and cranny, and he deflates with growing dread when that little navy footie doesn’t appear anywhere on the screens. His voice cuts through the employee radio a moment later and describes the child with every possible detail he can think of, asking that any sighting of the little straggler be reported to him immediately. He hopes against every star in the sky that the mother doesn’t happen to overhear from an employee nearby.

Lastly, he heads out in search of help.

Moon is meant to be working on the upper floor today, helping Sun handle the usual holiday rush, and his lack of response to the radio call is concerning. Not too concerning, though, given that Sun finds him right where he’d been expecting to.

That is, sprawled atop the lockers in the employee break room, one arm dangling over the side, the other resting casually over his waist, and a VOGUE magazine draped over his face.

‘Lazy’ doesn’t even scratch the surface of the words Sun wants to use. They’ve talked about this, the bad habit having put Moon in trouble a number of times already, but that’s an argument for another day.

There’s no time to mince words right now, and so he doesn’t. Instead, Sun stalks across the room and slams his fist against the lockers beneath his sleeping coworker, who sits upright with such force that his head makes contact with the ceiling and crashes through like a train into glass.

It might have been funny if Sun wasn’t as whipped up into a panic as he is, but as it stands he can hardly even keep from raising his voice when he addresses Moon with a scowl. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Sun hisses, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. “I take it you didn’t hear my radio call?”

Moon serves him with a glower of his own, snarling deep within his voicebox as he runs his hand over the glassy side of his faceplate to ensure that it’s still intact. He has the decency to look a little guilty, if only for a moment, cerulean blue eyes lowering to the radio attached at his hip that is visibly turned to OFF.

“Of course not,” Sun tuts.

Griping, Moon dusts the ceiling powder from his shoulders. “What could be so important that you had to–”

“I lost a baby.”

The words render him speechless, a long, uncomfortable silence taking up the space between them for all of a minute before Moon blurts out, “Sun, you don’t have a baby.”

“That’s because I lost him!” Sun shrills, beginning to pace. “I was helping a mother with her bags, and she asked me to babysit, a-and I know we aren’t technically allowed to, but– but it all just happened so fast!” His arms flailed for emphasis. “She said he wasn’t even walking yet, I thought it’d be easy! Everything was going so well, too, we were playing a game of peek-a-boo and then – then someone needed help. I only had my back turned for a minute, Moon. Maybe even less! But then I turned around, and…”

“You lost a baby,” he mutters to himself. Moon runs both hands over his face, sighing into his palms. “You lost a baby,” he repeats. “How do you lose an entire child?”

“I don’t know!” Sun answers, voice cracking with guilt. “Will you help me find them?”

“Obviously.” Moon hops down from the lockers (pointedly ignoring the massive hole in the ceiling – he’d come up with an excuse to tell management later) and is already crossing the room when he speaks again. “Management will take it out on both of us if they find out, so you need to get a grip. Your face looks like you just watched someone plummet to their death, for fucks’s sake.” He pauses at the door. “Did you get a scan of their face?”

“O-Of course!”

“Good. Transfer the image to me along with any other information that might be helpful. I’ll search the exits, you take the first story department stores.”

“What about the second floor?”

He fits him with a quizzical expression, going as far as to form an eyebrow with the stars on his faceplate screen and arch it pointedly. “You said this kid wasn’t walking yet,” Moon reminds him. “If someone ‘napped the little guy, they aren’t going to stick around, much less be caught shopping. They’ll head for the exits, first.”

“I guess that’s true…”

“And if you just coincidentally happened to have been babysitting the world’s fastest crawler, they would still be stuck on the first floor,” he continues, “which is why we’re checking there first.”

“Right. Right. You’re right.” Sun’s nod is shaky at best. His hands wring together with a tension that threatens to pop the joints out of place with each anxious tug.

Moon sighs and crosses the room again to place a hand on Sun’s shoulder. “We’ll find him,” he comforts, giving the shoulder a gentle squeeze, “but we need to go now. You won’t fix anything by standing here worrying.”

“Right,” he repeats, working to smother his nerves for the sake of focusing on the task at hand. “You check the exits, I’ll check the department stores. We’ll meet up at the fountain in thirty minutes if neither of us find anything?”

“Ten minutes,” Moon asserts. He wastes no further time, leaving Sun with only that and a firm nod before pacing out of the room.

Sun hopes they aren’t already too late.

-

Their search yields nothing but more disappointment. Ten painfully long minutes of searching that ends with them meeting at the fountain equally empty handed and with no further leads.

“We’re too late,” wails Sun, already catastrophizing. “How am I going to explain this to their mother? She’ll never forgive me, I’ll never forgive me–” His fingers hook around the rays beside his chin, the thin metal groaning beneath the force and threatening to snap right then and there, “–and management — stars, Moon, we’re going to be dismantled over this!”

“Lower your voice!” Moon snaps. He looks around, ensuring that that their crime — Sun’s crime — hasn’t been overheard. Luckily, it appears the fountain has drowned out their conversation sufficiently. “You need to calm down,” he continues. “I’m sure they’re somewhere around here.”

“We’ve checked everywhere!” His left ray bends under the pressure, molding to the shape of his fingers, slowly but surely. “I should have never let this happen. What was I thinking, turning my back on them? Now they’re all alone, o-or hurt, somewhere, or–”

“Hey, hey.” Moon takes him by the wrist, careful yet firm as he pries Sun’s fingers away from his mangled ray then holds his hand at a distance, so he can’t hurt himself further. “You made a mistake,” he agrees, “but it’s not fair to hold all of that blame yourself. You have no frame of reference for this sort of thing, we aren’t meant to be taking care of children in the first place.”

“I should have known better!” Sun insists. “How can I be expected to run a daycare if I can’t even look after one kid?”

Moon freezes, his optics flickering in a blink. “We–” slowly, he releases Sun’s wrist, “–we aren’t a daycare, Sun. We’re a mall. Are…are you feeling okay?”

“I…” Alarms and notices flood his screen, blocking Moon from view. Corroded files long since forgotten behind firewalls and newly instated protocols. He looks for answers in their overwhelming code and finds nothing but more questions; a lingering sense of awareness always just out of his reach. Then they’re gone, swept away all at once as his system tidies itself up, and he can think clearly again. “We’re in a mall,” he echoes, nodding to himself, “we run a mall. We’re mascots, not – not–” He faces Moon with a calmer disposition, forcing a smile, “I’m alright, now.”

“I always preferred the term Icon,” says Moon, “’mascot’ makes us sound like those people in animal suits waving around signs outside of businesses.” He laughs, and Sun laughs, too, but it’s strained. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He sighs with the last crumb of uncertainty. “I’m fine, just…confused, I guess. I think the anxiety is getting to me.” When he straightens again it’s with newfound gusto, a determination to make things right. “None of our employees have reported seeing anyone carting off with a baby that fits George’s description, so he must still be here. Do you want to try the second floor after all?”

“I guess it’s worth a shot,” says Moon. He takes another look around, eyes scanning the area for any possible lead, until his star-studded eyebrow arches downward. “You said he was wearing a blue footie?”

“Navy blue,” Sun nods his confirmation, “with a little white pocket on the front.”

“Like that?”

He follows Moon’s point all the way to the escalator, where good ol’ George is sat, halfway up to the second story, already, suckling at his thumb like this is any other Tuesday.

“That’s–” Sun feels like he’s going to scream, “that’s him!”

“Huh. Baby on an escalator,” he mutters inquisitively. “Never seen that before.”

“Moon!”

Not wanting to risk any more dillydallying, Sun rushes past him and beelines through the crowd, anxiety pulsing through him tenfold as he gets caught up in a group of customers gathered on the escalator themselves.

Moon takes an alternative route, opting to skip the escalator steps all together. Instead he leaps directly onto the handrail, steady and practiced, and carefully avoids his customer’s fingers as he races upward.

Sun meets him at the top an excruciating few seconds after and feels his composure slip further upon seeing him empty handed. “Where–?”

“I don’t know,” Moon interrupts, looking just as confused. “He was already gone when I got up here.”

“Seriously?” He braces both palms across his arms, hugging himself tightly so he doesn’t just rip out his rays all together. “He’s a baby, for Pete’s sake. How far could he have gone? How does this keep happening?”

“There!” Moon points a little ways off, where little George — somehow, someway — is spotted riding a runaway janitor’s cart, its wheels spiraling uncontrollably forward and headed straight for the wall.

“Stop that cart!” Shrieks Sun, already halfway across the room and hot on the cart’s tail.

The crowd is thick, clusters of customers all aiming to get their holiday shopping in before the real chaos begins, and it makes the already out of hand situation that much harder.

Sun hears the crash before he sees it, and feels his battery operated heart sink. The sight he’s met with upon finally reaching the end of the balcony is disastrous at best. The cart rests in a broken mess on the floor, having evidently bounced into a pair of trash cans rather than collide with the wall. One of said cans has toppled onto its side from the impact, and the trail of garbage leading out of it paints a perplexing picture.

Moon catches up with him a minute later, fans whirring like he’s out of breath. “Is he–”

“Gone,” Sun answers, aghast. He points to the breadcrumbs (literally) that trail out of the toppled can. “I think he fell into the garbage.”

“Well, that’s better than the wall,” hums Moon. “Maybe it cushioned his fall? And then the trashcan fell over…” he trails off.

“And he just…crawled out?” Sun finishes the thought, then raises his chin. The two share a dumbfounded expression.

“Sun, what kind of mutant child did you agree to babysit?”

“Don’t be rude!” He chastises. “George is just…special.”

“Yeah, specially designed to outwit us. They should have called him Curious George.” His eye follows the garbage trail until it peters out a few feet down. “Where do you suppose he went now?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sun groans. “Should we split up?”

“Good idea. You take the east wing, I’ll go west. Reconvene in thirty minutes?”

“Ten,”‌ corrects Sun, grimacing at the deja vu. “His mother promised an hour, and it’s already been over half of that. If we can’t find him in ten minutes, then we - we–”

“We are going to find him,” Moon assures, bolstering Sun’s confidence as best as he can. “We just need to focus, alright? No more running around like chickens with our heads cut off.”

Sun nods his agreement. “Right, okay. You’re right. I won’t let a baby run me in circles around my own mall.” His frazzled expressions calms, at that, and he smiles. “Just a nine-month infant who crawls a little faster than normal, that’s all he is. Easy peasy!”

-

What happens next is neither easy nor peasy. In fact, calling it ‘running circles’ is an understatement. In the next ten minutes alone, little George sends both of them out on nothing short of a wild goose chase, appearing in nigh impossible positions each and every time and always just out their grasp.

Sun is the first to find him. Tucked into the one corner of a store that the cameras don’t reach, donning a pair of sunglasses of all things (upside-down, mind you), and playing with a silicone whisk from the kitchenware section. Sun is only a short distance away when a customer taps him on the shoulder and asks where they can find the bathroom. Of course, the little tot is already gone when he turns back around.

A few meters down, Moon discovers some discarded sunglasses on the floor. He spots a familiar pair of white padded feet a moment later and finds George climbing the side of an information kiosk. The employee inside is busy with a customer and doesn’t even notice the little rascal scaling the grounded kiosk sign like he was born to climb Everest. They notice Moon, though, and are all too eager to introduce one of the mall’s very own mascots to the customer who is, apparently, visiting for the very first time. It’s all Moon can do just to act polite in front of the woman as his guest-orientation protocols take over, keeping him paralyzed there even as the infant merrily drops from the sign and disappears from his sight.

Five minutes later Sun hears a shrill of laughter and turns around a corner to see George playing in the plant trough like it’s a sandbox, his navy footie all but smothered in dirt. An internal scream rips silently through his system as he grapples with the knowledge that he’s now going to get an earful even if he does successfully get his hands on the kid.

True to character, George is nowhere to be found when Sun winds up in front of the planter. He calms his nerves and protocols alike by fixing the poor flowers back into their proper position from where they had been carelessly plucked out and thrown aside. He knows there’s no saving a few of them, and he’ll need to reorder more seeds to make up for it, but that’s a headache for another day.

The current source of his vexation appears to have shown some mercy, at least. Sun finds a trail of muddy footprints leading out of the trough and down the aisle. An employee glances up from their storefront desk upon seeing him and points to the right, towards the candy store, knowing exactly what he was looking for, already. For the life of him, Sun cannot understand why they — or anyone else for that matter — hasn’t thought to stop the runaway infant. Apparently, a nine month old crawling around without parental supervision is nothing to bat an eye at to anyone in the mall’s entire vicinity.

Moon is passing by Waning Lights theater when he hears a small commotion inside. On a hunch he peeks in, expecting nothing in particular, and instead sees two enormous baby hands covering the screen. That is, two very small baby hands waving in front of the projector.

He’s up the steps in a matter of seconds, mechanics racing with the adrenaline of having finally caught the little devil, only — of course — the little hands have already disappeared, and the seat is empty, leaving only a confused employee where he once was. “You’re joking…” Moon whispers, exhausted. An already irritated customer shushes him from somewhere downstage. Distantly, he hears the telltale sound of infant babbling and begrudgingly follows it out of the theater again.

He bursts through the door and right into Sun, colliding with a loud clatter of metal and recoiling, each holding their heads respectively and groaning in perfect unison.

“Did you find him?” Sun asks around a wince.

“Technically yes, but–”

“He got away from you too?”

Moon nods. “What is it with this kid?”

“I don’t know, but we need to figure out a different plan soon. We’re already over our ten minutes.” He looks around once more for good measure, knowing the child couldn’t have gone too far, already, if they had both just spotted him a moment ago.

That’s when he sees it. Little George, nine months old, walking down the balcony aisle. Rather, the little tike is running like he’s off to the races.

“Well, that explains why he’s been able to get everywhere so fast,” says Moon, following Sun’s gaze. “I thought you said he was only starting to crawl?”

“He’s, um, a fast learner?” Sun answers sheepishly. He watches George go for all of one long, lovestruck moment — feeling like a proud parent himself — before the swell of pride in his chest shatters to make way for circuit frying terror.

See, little George has shown himself to be quite the impressive little acrobat. He can walk, he can run, he can climb, and at that very moment he is making quick work of closing the distance between himself and a stack of boxes pressed up against the balcony railing.

The only thing awaiting him on the other side is a long, long fall.

Sun darts forward without a word, but Moon is faster, weaving through the crowd with a nimble speed that he cannot compete with. “We aren’t going to make it,” Sun gasps, announcing it to himself, mostly, as horror grips him throughout. Even if they reach the railing on time, George is already at the top of the stack, raising himself onto unsteady feet and peering out into the great beyond. He’ll be over the edge before they can stop him, and they won’t make it to the first floor on time to catch him there.

But then Sun hears it; the whir of a wire, quick and sturdy as it races through its ceiling track to Moon’s beck and call. He watches its metal hook begin to lower from a few paces away, just as the infant topples up and over, and his body seizes with fear as Moon leaps over the railing after him.

He hears a click, the wire latching out of sight, going taut. Sun holds his breath until the sound of giggling follows. Peering warily over the railing, hands shaking, he sees Moon dangling halfway to the floor. Little George bounces in his arms, clapping and cheering and laughing away like this is all just another game.

Moon lowers himself the remaining distance to the floor as Sun scrambles down the elevator to meet him. He looks rightfully shaken, his faceplate screen blank of even stars, but his grip remains persistent. He’s not going to risk putting the kid down for a moment, even if he feels like he’s going to bluescreen any second now. Their landing is celebrated with the undeniable sound of George taking the world’s largest shit, and though Moon wants to be angry, all he manages to come up with in response is “Me too, kid.”

A voice calls over their internal radios right as Sun’s feet hit the floor.

“Can someone ring the mascots?” Asks the employee, “I’m stationed at Shutterbug with a customer and she says they have her baby…?”

“I’m on my way!” Sun answers the radio aloud. He takes the baby from Moon, who extends George to him from a distance, grateful — now more than ever — for their ability to turn off their nose receptors.

“What about the footie?” Moon gestures to the dirt-soaked clothes once his hands are free. “I don’t think she’s going to be happy if he’s brought back all dirty – or naked. That might be worse.”

On a whim, Sun turns George over to check the footie’s tag. Relief floods his system when he reads the name. “We carry this brand – I’ll bet anything that we have this exact footie somewhere in the store. Can you go find it?” He makes a face and turns his own nose receptors off a moment after. “Maybe a pack of diapers, too,” he laughs. “Oh! Can you also pick up a rabbit from Fluff-&-Stuff?”

“What about you?”

“I’m headed to the bathrooms so I can clean the little guy up.” He holds George up, then, wielding him like a stinky little weapon. “Unless you want to try changing a diaper?”

“Navy blue footie with a white pocket, got it,” answers Moon, already turning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction.

-

Ten minutes later, Sun exits the bathroom feeling like a brand new person. A scarred, mortified person, but new all the same. Who knew baby poop could be so traumatizing?

Moon had returned a moment before, toting with him the items that Sun had requested, and together they figured out how to dress the freshly cleaned child in a new diaper. Whoever said it wasn’t rocket science was right. It was somehow worse. Still, they persevered, and at the end of it all they had a clean, happy, freshly diapered baby to show for their efforts. Now it was just a matter of delivering him back to his mother.

“Why did you want the rabbit?” Moon asks as he trades over the stuffed animal, happy to hold little George now that the little tike isn’t a stink grenade.

“You’ll see,” answers Sun, refusing to elaborate. He rounds the corner with Moon following at his heel and steps into Shutterbug, greeting the mother with his best customer-pleasing smile. “So sorry for the wait, ma’am. George here had a bit of an accident on our way back.”

The woman tuts guilty, but is happy to see them all the same. “Oh, goodness, how embarrassing. I can pay for the diapers you used.”

“Nonsense!” He tells her with a casual wave of his hand, “We’re happy to lend a hand, and it’s not like the little guy could help himself.”

“You’re a sweetheart,” she smiles. “And he behaved for you, otherwise?”

Sun glances over his shoulder at Moon, and the two share a look.

Nodding, Moon steps forward and hands the child over when his mother extends her arms for him. “He was an angel,” Moon tells her.

They had both already agreed to keep their mouths shut on the entire ordeal, including and up to George’s newfound capabilities. Aside from how much trouble they would both find themselves in if anyone ever found out about the chase this single child had put them through, it simply wasn’t their place to mention it. Sun, especially, didn’t want to take away that special moment when his mother rightfully deserved to have it to herself.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” she sighs with relief. “Thank you again for watching her. You two are a real blessing, you know that? I wouldn’t have been able to get all my ducks in a row without your help.”

“Anytime!” Sun answers. He spots a plaid dress hiding behind her, and lowers himself into a crouch. “Hello, again,” he calls to the little girl using his kindest voice, and extends the stuffed rabbit for her to take. “I noticed you had some bunnies on your dress, so I thought you might like this.”

Behind him, Moon relaxes into a fond smile.

“That’s very kind of you,” says her mother, who nudges her forward gently. “Go on, it’s okay,” she reassures her. “It’s a gift.”

The child hesitant, but eventually she peeks out from behind her mother just enough to take the offered rabbit, which she tucks against her chest in a great, big hug. “Th…Thank you,” she whispers. Then, feeling brave, she rewards him with a gap-toothed smile.

Moon clears his voice-box. “Well, we should let you get to it,” he says, full-well knowing that Sun would stay here cooing at the children all day if he let him.

And Sun, for what it’s worth, knows exactly what the vocal nudge means, and detaches himself from the family with a wave and some merry goodbyes before the two of them depart together.

“That was sweet of you,” Moon comments once they’re out of earshot. “You aren’t hoping for kids of our own, are you? I don’t think I’m ready for that level of commitment.” He elbows Sun with a smile, getting a hearty laugh out of him.

“Moon, I’ll be honest. I will be the happiest bot in the world if I never have to change another diaper again.” This time it’s Moon’s turn to laugh, and he laughs until his vocals strain with effort. “But, you know, it wasn’t too bad. Taking care of a baby, I mean. I think we make a pretty good team – and decent parents.”

“I’m the better parent,” Moon says around a wide grin. “You’re too much of a stick in the mud.”

“And you’re too spoiling!” Sun laughs, “Don’t think I haven’t seen you giving out candy to the kids that sneak off without their parents.”

“I’m teaching a valuable lesson,” Moon insists, hand flying over his heart like he’s offended by the notion. “If parents want to leave their children unattended, they have to face the consequences. It won’t be me dealing with the inevitable sugar rush.”

A gasp in the distance interrupts their playful bickering. They turn halfway, back towards Shutterbug. 

“Did you see that?” Chirps the mother, loud and clear. Her giddy voice followed immediately by the shutter of a camera. “Look – look! He’s walking!”

Again, the two share a look. Surprise becomes amusement becomes pride, then joy, and they laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

[theworld-ologist]

Are you awake? Is there breath in your lungs? Could you check for me?

-- [ Here is where this continues from, almost three years ago. The Lodger now, finally, finds himself awake in our new beginnings. Or, at least, as awake as he can believe himself to be. ]

[andromeddog]

Before I reblog even more art of yours just let me tell you...YOUR ART IS AMAZING AND I LOVE IT AND I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF IT!

There...I said it...😌 Hope you have a wonderful day and keep up the amazing work you do! ☺️

:’))))) thank u very much, this was such a nice message to receive…. i’m going through it rn and drawing the silly little war guys is a nice escape. glad you are enjoying them too :)

[pvremichigan]

love u guys :)

[magdaclaire]

sometimes i'll do a thing for someone bc i'm sorry that i'm the one they had to ask

[purpleqilinwrites]

Hello, Kaija!!!

How are you? Has life been nice to you? I really hope so, because you're too precious to be mistreated!!

Reminders: drink some water, eat something (even if it's just a little something) and rest a bit (even if you just close your eyes and take deep breaths for a minute).

Take care of yourself, I love you!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

hewwo, friend! ❤

i just wanted to apologise for leaving this sweet message you left me in my inbox for so long. i was going through some... things this past year, and i liked coming to read this in my inbox because your words are like a long and warm hug. i needed it a lot and i'm so very grateful that i had this to hold on to.

thank you for the reminders! if you're still here, please take a sip of water and have a little snacky thing. taking breaks is important for you too! treating yourself to a small joy every day is important too!

and always, i love you too! ❤

[gothbitchshit]

Match My Freak

Pairing: Eddie x plus sized girlfriend reader

Rating: Explicit — minors do not interact

Genre: fluff, kinda crack?, explicit smut, post s4 Eddie lives!AU

Word count: 5.3k

Summary: Eddie's girlfriend goes looking him Eddie and finds herself in a compromising position, and sharing some feelings she wasn't expecting to that changes the nature of their relationship forever.

Warnings: established relationship, Eddie likes his girls thick idc I make the rules, confessions of sorts, near anxiety/panic attack, lowkey roleplay that turns into not-roleplay lol, overuse of pet names, finger sucking, mentioned fingering (does not occur), choking, impact play/pussy slapping, master kink, fingering, unprotected sex, safeword discussion, d/s implications, dirty talk (these two are filthy), dumbification if you squint, Eddie being silly, these two are horny and in love – if I missed anything please let me know!

Requested? nope, but @slashersteve and @witchoftheewilds encouraged me to write this so they get credit

Authors note: so... I disappeared for like 2 years. Sorry about that lol this is written in 3rd person with the reader having she/her pronouns.

⋆ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋆

She knew exactly where she’d find him — sitting on his throne in the low-lit room, feet up on the table with his nose buried in a Dungeons and Dragons manual instead of home room. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t even flinch when she walked in; most of the Hellfire Club came and went as they pleased, and she doubted Eddie even realized the morning bell had rung. 

She’d been disappointed not to find him in the parking lot that morning, even more disappointed when she hadn’t found him waiting at her locker. But when she didn’t see him loitering outside Mrs. Brandon’s class until the bell rang, she knew exactly where he’d be. 

It was Friday, which meant he was going over his campaign before the Hellfire meeting planned for that night. He looked so excited, almost manic as he poured over his notes. She locked the door and pulled the shade down before lazily making her way over to him.

“Oh, gracious dungeon master,” she drawled seductively, Eddie’s eyes shooting up to look at her over his notes before a smirk settled on his face. She knew he’d already caught onto her game, and was more than willing to play along. “Could you spare a moment?”

“Always. What can I do for a princess, clearly lost in my domain, this early in the morning?” He asked, reaching out to take her hand, but she pulled away at the last minute, skirting around his chair. His fingers brushed the edge of the flannel she had tied around her waist but he couldn’t quite catch her.

“Well, as you can tell, I’m lost, and I’m in desperate need of answers,” she sighed, trailing a manicured finger down the side of his neck over the back of his chair.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help a lost maiden,” he replied, shivering as her nail hit the fading hickey at the junction of his neck and collarbone.

“So this sadistic, twisted campaign you’ve been planning,” she began, “What can you tell this lonely, weary traveler about it?”

“Well, princess, I can’t tell you too much. Can’t ruin the surprise,” he sighed, sitting up in his chair and making room for her in front of him, “But I can tell you that I don’t think any will survive the vicious, blood thirsty hoard that is commanded by Tharizdun, God of Eternal Darkness.”

She hummed in contemplation, finally moving to stand in front of him, remaining just out of his reach, “How can he possibly be defeated?” She asked, pushing herself onto the table, running a foot up the inside of his leg as she did.

“My sweet, kind princess,” he smiled, a slender, ring clad hand reaching out to grab her ankle, pulling it up to his mouth to place a chaste kiss on the skin. She shivered as he nearly forced her to lay back on the table, catching herself on her elbows, “I couldn’t possibly tell you that. I know the freshmen probably sent you in here to get a leg up on my campaign, but it won’t come that easily.”

She frowned animatedly, “You think I’m trying to trick you?” She asked softly, making him groan as his hand tightened around her ankle.

“I know you are, princess,” he laughed incredulously, “Why else would you be here, spread out on my table in front of my throne?”

“Can’t I just be curious?” She pouted, pulling her ankle away from him as she sat up.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he cooed, cupping her face in his hand, “If I tell you, you have to swear you won’t tell the freshmen about it and you have to come to Hellfire tonight.”

“Deal,” she smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the palm of his hand.

Eddie laughed, shaking his head before settling back into his throne, “Well, Tharizdun, the God of Eternal Darkness, is locked away, imprisoned for his crimes. But he is able to influence his cult members to act on his behalf. They are obsessed with finding and freeing him from his eternal prison so darkness can reign supreme yet again. To defeat him, you’d need someone who has magical influence to somehow stop his mid control and—“

“What if someone were to… I don’t know… stumble upon Thorzidune—“

“—Tharizdun.”

“Yes, sorry. Tharizdun. If someone were to find him and distract him…” she trailed off before locking eyes with Eddie and asking, “Could he be seduced?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped, a breathless laugh forced itself from his lungs as he stared at her, her lips curling into a smirk as she watched the wheels turn in his head. “Princess, I-I don’t think you realize what you’re—“ he stuttered.

“I mean, he’s not a zombie or anything, so he’s not immune to being charmed or whatever. So why couldn’t he be seduced?” She asked with a shrug. 

“Baby, your charisma stats would have to be insane to even—“ he began but she cut him off with a scoff.

“Excuse you, I’m a level 13 Bard and my charisma stats are off the charts,” she deadpanned, folding her arms across her chest.

“On whose authority? You’ve never played with me and you can’t just say things like that, it cheapens—“ he complained, but she cut him off again.

“Will the Wise,” she said firmly, making him freeze, “You can ask him. We’ve played extensively. Now, what would I need to roll to properly seduce the terrible, terrifying, Tharizdun?”

She could see the realization set in, his eyes going dark as he assessed her. The predatory gleam in his eyes sent a wave of arousal pooling in her core, “Well, who am I to question Will the Wise? So, you need a 15 or higher to seduce the mighty Tharizdun, princess,” he smiled, standing up to his full height to tower over her. “Here, I’ll even let you use my lucky dice,” he said, bending over to whisper directly into her ear before pressing the dice into her hand.

She felt like there was an electric current under her skin, her hands almost shaking in anticipation. She sucked in a breath and steeled her resolve, pushing Eddie backwards, back into his throne. “Thank you for the luck, oh gracious one,” she curtsied.

“Anytime, princess,” he smirked, leaning back in his seat.

“Oh,” she smiled innocently, “Will you hold this for me? It’s a little warm in here,” she asked, watching his eyes trail over her as she untied the dark flannel from around her waist, revealing the ripped black shorts. She could have sworn she saw Eddie drool a little bit as he stared at her exposed legs.

She turned on her toes, bending over the table dramatically, “Fuck, princess,” he groaned, his hands ghosting up the backs of her plush thighs. “You don’t even need to roll. Tharizdun is at your mercy at the mere sight of you.”

She turned to look at him over his shoulder, suppressing a laugh as she saw his eyes glued to the bottom of her ass. “No, we need to do this the right way, there are rules for a reason. You should know that,” she chastised, before turning back to the table. “Oh, and I’d rather be at Tharizdun’s mercy,” she teased, rolling the dice.

The moment of silence in anticipation seemed to stretch for hours, her breath caught in her throat as the dice spun before it stopped, landing on 20. “Congratulations princess,” Eddie breathed in her ear, “You got your wish.” Before she could respond, his hands were under the hem of her shorts, kneading into the flesh of her ass.

“Eddie!” She squealed, feeling the cold metal of his rings cut into her warm skin.

“Nope, that’s not my name right now, sweetheart,” he breathed into her ear, “Call me by my name, and I’ll grant you mercy.”

“‘Tharizdun, God of Eternal Darkness’ is a mouthful, and you know I’m a screamer,” She whispered back, “But because I’m at your mercy, what if I just call you master?”

She couldn’t help but feel satisfied at the sharp intake of breath she heard in her ear, followed by a low warning sound that reverberated in his chest. But the satisfaction was ripped away from her with a hand around her throat, pulling her back into his chest.

“If you call me that again, princess, you’re never getting rid of me, you got that? You say that shit again and you are mine, understood?”

Her heart fluttered and her knees went weak; she wanted nothing more than to be his forever. The simple thought of it made her break into goosebumps and her brain to go a little fuzzy. She wanted him to own her, to want her as much as she wanted him. “Please, master, I want it. I wanna be yours, only yours,” she pleaded softly, her eyes filling with tears at the unspoken promise in his proposition. 

Eddie sighed, a pleased hum vibrating through her back from his chest. His hand tightened as he scoffed, pressing his hard bulge into the cleft of her ass, making her whine. “My dumb little pet,” he cooed mockingly, “You come into my lair, batting your pretty little eyes at me, trying to seduce me for someone else’s benefit? And now you offer yourself to me, to keep?”

“Yes, fuck, I want you to keep me. I wanna be yours forever,” she whispered, her whole body trembling in his hold. “I love you, Eddie,” she hiccuped. 

His grip on her faltered, his fingers loosening around her neck, making her freeze. It had been on the tip of her tongue for weeks, always choking the words back as the insecurities echoed in her mind, all the same haunting tone that’d almost claimed her life in the upside down mere months before. And now she’d fucked it up — she should have known Eddie would never feel the same way about her as she did him. His words were just part of the game they were playing, he didn’t mean them like she did.

“Princess, I need you to breathe,” Eddie commanded gently, trapping her chin between his fingers and forcing her to look at him. His eyes were wide and wild, still half feral but also concerned, and all it did was make her cry harder. 

“It-it’s okay you don’t love me, I-I won’t be upset just p-please don’t-don’t leave,” she stuttered out between gasps, trying to stave off the panic attack that was building.

“Fuck, no, no, no, no, no, no sweetheart,” he cooed softly, cupping her cheeks, “I’ve been in love with you since the moment you slayed a hoard of demobats to save my stupid ass. Shit, I’ve probably been in love with you for way longer. Definitely before we started dating – like when you told me you liked my tattoo and my guitar and convinced me to play you part of the song I was writing, and then actually liked it? Y’know, I haven’t thought of a single other girl since then,” he rambled, the goofy grin she loved so much not leaving his face for a second. “I’m so sorry I made you think I didn’t, but holy fuck, I have been in love with you for so long princess and hearing you say it felt like a-a hallucination or something.”

“You love me too?” She mumbled through sniffles.

“You are the love of my life. I love you so much I don’t even have the words for it, which is saying a lot because I am known for my way with words.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” she smiled, pressing up onto her toes to kiss him, melting into his embrace.

His hands hooked under her legs, lifting her up so she could wrap herself around him as he carefully set her on the table. “I wasn’t joking baby,” he said, pulling away to look into her eyes seriously. “When I said you were mine, that I wanted to keep you. I want you forever because I am in love with you.”

The white hot burn of his words roared in her ears as he pressed his lips to hers again, slower this time, sucking her lip in between his teeth before giving her a sharp nip.

“Now that you’ve given yourself to me, and I to you, can we continue where we left off? Because we only have 30 minutes before next period, and while I am fully willing to skip O’Donnel’s class to claim my pretty little pet, you told me you’d kill me yourself if I don’t graduate with you.”

“And I stand by that statement,” she smiled, still feeling dazed, “But I also need you to fuck me so hard I forget how boring Bunsen’s chem class is for the entire hour. Can you do that, oh gracious one? My God of Eternal Darkness.”

“Don’t you need that to graduate?” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her neck.

“Yeah, but it’s lab day and Nancy’s my partner,” she shrugged, shivering as she felt the tendrils of his curls ghost across her skin.

“Oh, so you just fuck around while everyone else struggles?” He grinned, nipping at her neck to make her gasp. “Why am I not surprised Wheeler would let you skate by”

“Because she’s my friend,” she breathed absently, too distracted feeling Eddie’s warm hands travel the expanse of her legs and his lips working his way across her chest.

“Mmhmm, and you’re gonna sit in that class with her, all fucked out after I split you open and make you cry bouncing on my cock?” He asked.

“Yes, please,” she whispered, her eyes rolling back as he bit down on her earlobe.

“Please what, princess?”

“Please, master,” she sighed.

“Of course, my pet,” he smirked, “I’ve told you before, flattery works on me, sweetheart.” She didn’t notice he had been causally undoing the buttons that held her shorts up until he was yanking the fabric down her ass and throwing them to the side.

“Eddie, baby, please. Don’t tease me. I need you now,” she pleaded, eyes wide and glassy as she stared at him, “I’ll do anything when we get home, anything, as long as you fuck me now, and you fuck me hard.”

“Sweet princess, my little pet, have you forgotten your manners already? I’m your master right now baby, and you’re at my mercy. That was the deal,” he chuckled, “But since you asked so nicely…” He took two steps back from her, settling himself into his throne with a dark glint in his eyes. He started in her eyes as he unbuckled his belt, the handcuffs clinking as he unbuttoned his pants. “I need my girl to come ride me on my throne, seeing as you, from this moment forward, are my queen.”

She bit her lip so hard she could feel it split, the sharp metallic filling her mouth, “Yes master,” she nodded, pushing herself off the table. Eddie’s wicked grin grew even more as she took two careful steps toward him, coming to stand between his spread legs.

“I see my princess got all dressed up just for me,” he smirked, his fingers ghosting over her stomach, venturing under the hem of the Dio shirt he’d given her the night he asked her to be his girlfriend. “Do you like wearing the clothes I get you, baby? Letting everyone know that you’re mine?”

She nodded, a shy smile on her face, “It lets everyone know that you’re mine too,” she whispered, climbing into his lap. She trailed her nails up his neck softly, relishing in the hiss that came out of his mouth, “Can’t let anyone try to take you from me.”

“Sweetheart, I assure you. No one other than you wants me,” he laughed, but her hand in his hair cut him off with a groan.

“It’s because they don’t know you. If they did, every girl in Hawkins would be fighting for your attention,” she frowned, littering kisses across his face. “Well, everyone except Nancy and Robin.”

He groaned in displeasure, “Do you want to get fucked or do you wanna talk about them? It’s one or the other baby.”

“I need you to fuck me,” she smiled innocently, grinding down on him with an experimental roll of her hips. The satisfied moan caught in her throat, the friction being nearly too much to handle after the teasing she’d received.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he nearly purred, his gorgeous, massive hands holding onto her hips. The cool metal of his rings made her eyes roll back as they settled on her heated flesh. She felt herself slipping back into the hazy headspace she’d been in earlier. 

She had never considered herself very submissive —  a switch at best — but Eddie brought something out of her that she’d never felt before. And it terrified her. Being with Eddie was so different than the other guys she’d fucked. She knew Eddie would hand her the reins of control as soon as she asked, if she ever asked; he would indulge her every whim without a single hesitation. And because of that, she let herself float into it without fighting it for the first time. 

She semi consciously realized Eddie could tell exactly when she let herself go, his grin curling into one that was more smug, and deeply self satisfied. “That’s it, there’s my good girl,” he sighed, “Been waiting for you to let me behind those walls you built, sweetheart. Knew you’d be the perfect little pet for me,” he cooed, pushing his thumb past her lips.

She ground down on his erection, spit leaking from the corner of her mouth lewdly as he pushed down on her tongue with the pad of his finger, keeping her head still while the other directed her hips.

“Gonna fuck you now, s’that okay princess?” He slurred, his head tipping back as he bucked his hips into hers unconsciously. She nodded, mewls of approval falling from her open mouth making him laugh. “Alright, alright, gimme one second sweetheart.”

Without moving his thumb from her mouth, he managed to shimmy his pants and boxers down to free his cock — hard and leaking pearly beads of pre cum that made her drool and her pussy clench in excitement. “Please, my love, please,” she slurred, her hands trembling where they were bunched in his shirt.

“Anything for you,” he smiled. He hooked one long finger under the lace, pulling it to the side to expose her cunt, strings of arousal clinging to the thin fabric lewdly. A pleased hum left him as he stared at her, removing his thumb from between her lips with a pop before aligning his cock with her entrance, the blunt head pressed against her firmly. “Ready baby?”

She nodded absently, too fixated on the golden expanse of his forearms to properly retain any of the words he was saying. The veins and tendons under the skin, and the patches of dark black ink were something that captivated her attention even when he wasn’t about to fuck her senseless. But when he was — it was downright sinful. Especially when they gave way to his hands, God’s most beautiful creation. Wide, rough palms that bled into long, thick fingers, which just so happened to be holding something else long and thick, something she loved nearly as much as his hands: his cock. 

“Princess, I need you to look at me,” he said sharply. Her eyes flew to his, confusion and concern swirling in her brain, and evidently her eyes, because his eyes softened, pulling her closer for a moment to press a kiss to the space between her eyebrows, “You weren’t listening to me like a good girl, and I need you to pay attention to what I’m about to say,” he smiled, his tone soft. “If you need me to stop, you say red, got it? No matter what, if you need a break or something hurts or you don’t like what’s happening, or even if you just start to feel uncomfortable, you say red and we’re done. Got it?”

“Yes master,” she smiled, warmth filling her chest as he spoke.

He snarled in response, both of his hands finding her hips as he seated her on his cock, bottoming out nearly instantly. She choked on her groan, having to grab the elaborate headpiece of the throne to steady herself. She could have sworn she felt him in the back of her throat he was hitting so deep, and his girth was nothing to laugh at — it usually took three fingers to prepare her to take him — but the pain ebbing into pleasure was more intoxicating than any drug she’d ever done.

Without thinking, she pulled herself almost all the way off him before dropping back into his lap forcefully, ripping deep, low moans out of the both of them. “Do it again,” he ordered, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as she began riding him desperately. “That’s it, my good girl, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart,” he praised, his hips meeting her thrusts evenly.

“Eddie,” she moaned shamelessly. The knowledge they were in school, and it wasn’t even 9am passed through her brain briefly, but as soon as it came it had gone, replaced only by the thought of Eddie’s cock kissing her cervix as he changed angles slightly.

“My princess, my sweet girl. You’re mine, you got that? You’ve always been mine, but fuck, sweetheart, I’m never gonna let you go now, do you hear me? Now that I know you love me as much as I love you.”

She couldn’t find words to convey to him how much she loved him, but her head was filled with flashes of images — of their future together. Graduating together, moving into their own place, eventually getting married, and achieving their dreams together; she could see it all, in perfect color with every thrust of his hips it became more clear. She wanted to chalk it up to being cockdrunk, but she knew it wasn’t. She’d found her other half.

In the beautiful boy that had a smile that lit up the darkest corners of her mind, the same one who she’d nearly lost multiple times in the twisted hellscape that still haunted her memories. Her life had restarted the second Dustin re-introduced them, standing in the parking lot less than 100 feet away. He had protected her, saved her — loved her — in spite of it all. 

She didn’t know how she hadn’t screamed her love for him every second of the day before then, because it flowed out of her pores like a river now. She wasn’t sure she could keep it in if she tried. 

She loved his messy curls, even now as they stuck to his forehead and became frizzier with sweat. She loved his big brown eyes and the way she could read every emotion in them at a moment's glance, but especially when they sparkled with mischief like they did at that very moment. She loved his insane tangents about obscure nerd lore, his scatterbrained messiness, his compulsive need to learn new guitar riffs even if it meant staying up until 4am before they had to go to school. 

She hadn’t noticed she’d started crying until she felt his tongue on her cheek, licking away the spilled tear before his eyes rolled back in his head. “My precious little pet, cum for me,” he cooed, “Obey your master.”

She hadn’t even noticed she was close, but as soon as his words permeated her brain she was shaking as the waves of her orgasm wracked through her body, a high pitched squeal wrenching out of her vocal cords, muffled only by Eddie’s hand slapping over her mouth quickly. 

“Fuck baby, I know I told you to scream for me, but we really don’t wanna get caught,” he smirked, his thrusts shallowing as he worked her through her orgasm.

“I love you, I love you so much, I don’t even understand how much I do,” she babbled softly, her brain scrambling to put words together in a coherent fashion. “I love when you hold my hand and how you talk to me and when you play guitar. I love your scars and your tattoos and your fingers and your cock and your eyes. Fuck, Eddie,” she sobbed incoherently, “Please!”

She felt weightless for a second as he stood, not moving from inside her as he slammed her back down onto the table. He hovered over her for a moment, staring into her eyes as he caressed her face softly, “God you’re fucking everything,” he groaned before snapping his hips into hers brutally.

The sheer force of him forced the sounds out of her — desperate, whiny, needy little moans that would have made her embarrassed on any other day — the ability to speak no longer in her grasp.

“You would have told me a year ago that my dream girl would be crying because of my cock and telling me she loved me? I would have thought I was dreaming,” he muttered, his teeth grit in determination as he pounded into her. “Too fuckin’ good for me. My Luthien. I’ll spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of you, sweetheart, in this life, the next, and every one after that.”

She felt her second orgasm approaching fast, her vision nearly going black with the force of its impending devastation. Her only tether to reality was Eddie’s hands on her skin, one hand holding hers and the other wrapped around her throat.

“Kiss me, please,” she croaked, pressing her heel into his back as her free hand grabbed his neck, pulling him closer as her orgasm tore through her like a tidal wave.

He groaned, his hips stuttering to a stop as he collapsed onto her, his lips finding hers as if they were drawn together like magnets. She could feel him throbbing inside her, coating the velvety walls of her cunt.

“Fuck, I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” he laughed breathlessly after he detached his lips from hers.

“Me either,” she shivered, the sweat on her skin cooling as they came down from their high together.

He smiled down at her softly, working his hands under her back before lifting her off the table easily, settling back into his throne with her body tucked into his chest. He pulled his jacket over her shoulders, combing his fingers through her hair gently, pressing his lips to her forehead every so often.

She felt the feeling come back to her slowly, Eddie’s warmth seeping into her skin. “You doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He mumbled, making her hum happily in response. “I’m sorry pretty girl, but we’re running out of time.”

“S’okay babe, I just need to feel my legs again so I don’t collapse in the hall and have to explain to Principal Higgins you shattered my pelvis with your dick in the theater room instead of going to home room,” she sighed airily.

His rumbling laugh shook her body, “I think Higgins would croak then and there if you did that princess.”

“Who would I be to take your graduation plans away from you? Flipping Higgins the bird and all,” she chuckled, kissing his neck softly before sitting back from his embrace. “God that was stupid, I don’t know how I’m gonna stay awake the rest of the day.”

“You think that’s bad? I’m gonna be hard all day thinking about the way you looked, shit and the way you cried for me?” Eddie scoffed teasingly, leaning forward to press his lips to hers again.

She sank into his kiss easily, the tension fading from her body. Before she could get too wrapped up in him she pulled away sharply, “Hey, no, you can’t trick me. We need to get up, and you need to go to class, because I swear to God, Munson, if you fail and need to go to summer school and fuck up our plans… Let’s just say eternity will be a little bit shorter for you.”

“I know, I know,” he grumbled, “Bratty little thing,” he huffed to himself, putting his hands on her hips. He lifted her off him with a groan, quickly covering her exposed cunt with her underwear before giving it a quick tap, making her jump. “Gotta keep that in baby, don’t wanna be making a mess during chemistry class, now do you?”

“I can’t believe I’m in love with you,” she rolled her eyes, lifting herself off his lap with shaky legs.

He hummed smugly before grinning, “But you are,” he mocked her, pulling his jeans and boxers back up around his hips.

“I can take it back,” she shrugged, hiding the smirk on her face as he gasped in mock outrage.

“You said the words, sweetheart, you pledged yourself to me. You knew the consequences,” he smiled, dropping to his knees in front of her. She flushed seeing him stare up at her, big brown eyes full of love and adoration.

“My Beren,” she smiled softly, threading her fingers into his curls, and she wasn’t sure his smile could get any wider.

“I should have known, my pet doesn’t miss a detail, not even when she’s low on blood flow to her brain and fucked out,” he grinned, kissing the skin above the strip of lace. “But that’s right, angel. You’re the Luthien to my Beren.”

He grabbed her leg, shifting her weight to balance on one foot as he lifted the other, slipping her shorts up. His nimble fingers tying the ribbons to sit flush against her thighs. “Thank you, my love.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he beamed at her, standing up to his full height. “Now, we’ve got a couple minutes. How about I help you hobble to class?”

“I would be eternally grateful,” she rolled her eyes, “Seeing as you’re the reason I won’t be able to walk across the stage at graduation next week.”

“Not my fault my dick is so big,” he shrugged with a smirk, making her choke as she glared at him. “Aw, my pet is choking for me and my cock isn’t even in your mouth.”

Whatever response she had died on her tongue as he lifted her off the ground at the blinding smile on his face, his hand held out to her. She couldn’t fight her own smile as she took it, strolling out of the theater room out into the hall as the bell rang. 

He walked her all the way to her chemistry classroom, her backpack slung over his shoulder and her hand in his. He pulled her to a stop just outside the door, crowding her against an empty stretch of lockers.

She felt her cheeks warm as he stared down at her, leaning against the doorframe. He opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off with a kiss and a breathless, “I love you.”

“I love you too, princess. I’ll meet you here in an hour,” he smiled softly, pressing one last kiss to her head before turning around and sauntering toward Mrs. O’Donnel’s classroom.

She didn’t make it 5 steps before Nancy’s voice rang out behind her. “Why are you walking like that?”

“I have no idea what you’re—“

“Did you really skip first period to fuck Munson?” She deadpanned, making her smirk. “I love you, but you’re disgusting.”

“You have no idea…” she trailed off, taking her seat. Nancy simply rolled her eyes and opened her textbook. After a moment of silence she turned to Nancy with a wry grin. “So do you wanna know what happened?”

Nancy slammed her textbook shut with a snap, a small smile on her face, “Alright, I guess you can tell me everything.”

[devilisln-moved]

@spinxeret asked: “Am I safe with you?”

   “That’s such a loaded question,” Matt snorted softly. Fleetingly his composure slipped, the polite curve of his lips turning down into a faint frown. He was supposed to smile rakishly and tell her he was kidding, of course she was safe with him. Except that wasn’t exactly, accurate, now was it? “Let’s just say we’re probably both pretty dangerous for each other. I can only imagine why you chose me to address the matter.”

[dragonbarbie]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Part 1

aegon x best friend!reader ; modern!au

summary: this fic is snippets of aegon and reader's relationship as they grow up and discover new feelings. but to let himself be loved, aegon has to first do some growing up.

rating: 18+, minors dni.

tags: alcohol, substance abuse.

word count: 4.2k

series masterlist

next part

A/N: i'm so excited to share my first full fic! this series is very very lowkey inspired by one day and highkey inspired by peter by taylor swift. comment if you'd like to be on the taglist for this! hope you guys like it :)

divider credit @ cafekitsune!

Age 10

“I still don't see why we had to move here." a sullen, 10 year old Y/N replied, pouting as she stared out the window from the backseat. her father couldn't help an amused smile at the little girl as he drove towards her new school. "i told you darling, daddy’s got a very important new job here in king’s landing." "yes but why did I have to move here." the older man let out a patient sigh. this had been going on weeks leading to their move. "you haven't even given the city a chance yet, kiddo. why do you hate it already?" "because..." the little girl started with an exasperated whine. ".... i don't have any friends here!" "you have me." her father offered with an assuring grin. the unamused look he got in return was not grateful in the least. "you're dad. i want friends." the seriousness with which Y/N declared her dilemma earned her a laugh from the front seat.

her father pulled into the curb by the grand iron gates of Red Keep Academy, the best private school in the city. as Y/N hopped out the backseat, looking deflated, he lowered the car window, "hey c'mon now, you can't start your first day all sad. who knows, maybe you'll come back with a hoard of friends, even more than you had back home." Y/N only looked ahead at him, unconvinced. "bye, dad."

as she made her way towards the main archway to the school, she thought of all the things she was missing about home. not the new townhouse they had in the city, her real home, back in the reach. she thought of the swing behind her house, the smell from the bakery next door, the big oak tree she saw on the way to school every morning, the fountain in the park – when suddenly someone ran past her, fast enough to knock her down.

"ouch!" she cried out from the floor, rubbing her shoulder where she had been hit. "aegon!" a woman suddenly rushed to her side, glowering at the little boy who had pushed past her. "are you okay, honey? were you hurt?" the first thing Y/N noticed was how kind the woman looked with her big brown eyes, and so very pretty. "i'm okay." she reassured in a small voice, before turning to give this 'Aegon', the dirtiest look she could muster.

the boy had to be her age, pale blonde hair that looked like someone had tried to comb it but had not been given enough time to finish the job. he wore a matching school uniform to Y/N, navy blue blazer, white shirt and dark green pants. his shirt though was untucked and seemed to already have mud stains.

she thought he seemed mostly unbothered by his own actions, but stood there attempting to look sheepish nonetheless for his mother.

"apologise to this young lady." his mother demanded. "sorry..." he mumbled almost incomprehensibly. already upset and now physically hurt, Y/N wordlessly got up and hurried away, trying to stop hot tears from spilling out.

as she walked away she heard the boy's mother scold him, "that was not an apology, Aegon. go say sorry, properly this time." she heard a childish groan in response, "do I have to?".  his mother must have given him one hell of a look, Y/N thought because she heard her say nothing else but small footsteps came jogging up to her.

as the blonde boy walked next to her, she waited for him to say something while she kept walking ahead, but he seemed to just wordlessly fall in stride with her. After a minute he suddenly asked, “do you even know where you’re going?”

now that he mentioned it, she didn’t.

she suddenly stopped and looked around herself, confused. He stopped with her and studied her for a second. “I don’t know you.” He observed. “are you new?”. She decided to stay silent, hoping he would go away if she ignored him but she was wrong. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “you’re going in the wrong direction, new girl. That way –” he pointed to where she had been headed “—is the middle school building. Primary school is this way.” He started walking down a hallway, and Y/N took hurried steps to follow him.

He gave her a sideway glance, “what grade are you in anyway? Third?” he smugly asked, proudly looking down at her as a mature fifth-grader. “fifth.” She snapped at him. “oh”, he responded, surprised. “who’s class?” “Miss Reyne.” “no kidding!” he gave her a toothy grin. “so am I.”

Y/N didn’t like this Aegon, she decided. As he kept chatting away about how boring Miss Reyne was, she gave him no replies and generally walked as if she were alone and had no association with the silver haired boy beside her. As they settled into class, she was determined to avoid him for the rest of her day. Aegon though, was determined for quiet the opposite.

He took a seat next to hers, kept making comments, providing her a running, private commentary about each teacher and student. He wasn’t affected by Y/N’s lack of a response, or if he was, he didn’t let it show. Y/N had to admit though, he was funny. she couldn’t help but crack a smile when he told her about the time Jason Lannister got gum stuck in his hair, and had to suppress a giggle when Aegon impersonated Mr. Bolton falling asleep mid-way through teaching a class. At these small instances of Y/N’s guard breaking, he flashed her a bright smile, pleased with himself.

Y/N though, didn’t utter a word to him. Until Art class that was.

They had been asked to paint an animal, and when Y/N looked up from the goldfish she had been painting, she saw Aegon’s work. “a dragon isn’t a real animal.” She disproved. The boy merely shrugged, “that’s not an animal either, it’s a fish.”

“a fish is an animal.” She frowned at her work. “it’s just an animal under water.”

“oh well, let’s add some of its natural habitat then.” He smirked, grabbing the bowl of water they’d been sharing to clean their brushes. “NO! stop!” in an attempt to block him from pouring water on her work, the brush in her hand smeared some of the yellow paint on his face.

He froze in his action immediately, bringing up his fingers to feel the paint streak running down from his brow to across his nose. This time Y/N couldn’t suppress her laughter at the sight, his blinking expression making it all the more funnier. “well, if that’s how you want to do this!” he declared as he scooped some of the red paint on his two fingers before smearing it on her cheek.

Within five minutes, their respective art works had been abandoned and both sets of uniform utterly ruined. The two had to be separated by their teacher, then ordered to walk down to the washrooms and clean themselves right up.

The second she left the girls washroom though, Y/N found the silver haired boy waiting for her by the door, some green paint still visibly stuck in his pale locks. “race you to class?” he mischievously suggested. “Hmm” Y/N pretended to think about the challenge for a second, before saying “okay” and dashing towards their class.

With a self-satisfied smile at having beaten Aegon, she took her seat. Sulking at his defeat, Aegon slinked back in his chair, “you cheated, didn’t wait for the ‘go’…”

“win’s a win.” Y/N declared, grabbing golden glitter for her fish. 

He didn’t stay grumpy for long though, before she knew it he was back to his talkative self, this time with Y/N chiming in with her own comments. The hours flew by with Aegon by her side, and as the day came to an end Y/N realised she’d enjoyed herself after all.

As they walked towards the school gate to leave, Aegon suddenly changed the topic. “you like video games?” “yeah…?” she hesitantly replied. “great, you’re coming over tomorrow to play some.” He beamed. At the end of the sentence Y/N observed he hadn’t actually asked her a question. “okay.” She found herself agreeing.

“cool, see you tomorrow.” Aegon had started running in the direction of one of the cars, when he suddenly stopped and turned around. “never asked your name.” he sheepishly realised.

 “Y/N!” she distractedly answered as she sped up, having found her mom’s car in the parking lot.

“Y/N…” Aegon muttered to himself as he walked away, liking the way the name rolled of his tongue.

Age 15

“You’re late.” Y/N didn’t even bother to look up when she heard the window to her bedroom open, but did glance at the subsequent sound of someone falling face first onto her carpet. “have you been drinking? Its 2pm.”

Down on the ground laid her best friend of five years, with his messy platinum hair and stick-thin lanky limbs, carrying in the distinct smell of smoke when he entered her room. Though they were the same age, aegon looked more boyish still even as he had started to race towards every vice of the adult world he could get his hands on.

Aegon merely rubbed his now injured nose, as he lifted his head off the ground. “No I haven’t been drinking… still drunk from last night. Big difference.” Y/N sighed and shook her head in vexation before returning to her homework.  Aegon had recently taken up drinking and despite Y/N’s repeated rebukes, he seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much to stop. He continued to wave off her concern and she was starting to tire of voicing it.

“Let’s say I believed you… you wanna tell me what made you so late, then? I do have other things to do with my day than wait around to teach you biology, y’know.” Aegon grabbed a chair and dragged it to sit next to her at her desk. “I was actually busy being taught biology as it happens… albeit of a different kind.” His smug, self-satisfied grin as he pulled a cigarette from his front pocket  and placed it between his teeth, told Y/N all she needed to know. “Elinda Massey was the most enthusiastic of teachers.” Y/N couldn’t help but grit her teeth at the mention of Aegon’s latest distraction.

With a swift motion she grabbed the cigarette and threw it in the bin, ignoring his protests. “you know you’re not allowed to smoke in here, my parents would kill me if they smelled it.” Aegon snorted at the statement, “yeah but, that’s never stopped me before.” The casualness with which Aegon dismissed her, pinched Y/N. It was certainly true that Y/N usually found it hard to say no to Aegon, no matter how the consequences might harm her; but she didn’t like how he took the same for granted, as if it was a given.

“What’s got you all prissy today?”

“you. You wanna pass biology this year or not?” Y/N replied, visibly irritated. “yeah like there’s a chance in hell they’ll actually fail me. Grandfather would have the place shut within the week.” “then why do you even need a tutor? Go off with Elinda or whoever.” Y/N huffed, her eyes remaining trained so hard on her textbook that she was half certain she was going to burn holes into it, her hand clutching around the pencil in her hand.

“Elinda? That’s what you’re so annoyed about?” aegon snickered. Y/N turned to now glare directly into his blue eyes, a blush creeping up her cheeks and her nostrils flaring. In that moment she wanted nothing more than to push aegon right out the window he came from so she could be alone instead of having to deal with this. “No, I just think you’re wasting your time here right now, when you could be doing…. Biology with Elinda instead.” Aegon brow furrowed at her reaction, but instead of another retort his hand reached out to gently grab her arm. “hey…” his features softened from their usual impish nature to highlight his concern “…what’s actually up with you?” in the face of such kindliness from him, she couldn’t muster any more scathing replies.

He’d seen right through her, like only he could. For weeks now she’d been stressed, but found the topic too awkward to discuss with Aegon. But she knew she’d have to open up to him sooner or later about her problem. Keeping secrets from Aegon was simply not something she did. Or even possibly could if she tried, she thought.

“promise you won’t laugh.” She first demanded in a nervous tone. Raising his three fingers, her best friend solemnly confirmed, “scouts honour.” She swallowed, her eyes looking beyond Aegon’s shoulder rather than at him as she slowly admitted. “I’ve not had my first kiss.”

Aegon merely blinked back at her, “what, is there supposed to be more to that or…?” “I’ve not had my first kiss.” She repeated as if those words were supposed to be self-explanatory. “yeah and I’ve never been to the Summer Isles, what’re you on about?” Y/N couldn’t help a groan as she momentarily hid her face behind her hands, thinking the more she would explain herself the more embarrassed she would get.

“It’s just, I’m 15, and I should have had it by now, I’ve never even been on a date.. and… and… and you’ve got Elinda and Maria before that, and Jeyne and, and…. I just can’t believe you’ve gone to third base before I’ve even had my first kiss!” her words came out rushed in the end, out of frustration and a need to just get the shameful confession over with.

She had expected Aegon to laugh it off, or worse, agree that her situation was absolutely the height of shame. Instead, he looked confused that such a thing was bothering her in the first place “what, that’s it? why didn’t you just say so before?”

nonchalantly, aegon put an arm behind Y/N’s chair. Eyes closed, he suddenly leaned in towards her, lips puckered, causing her eyes to go wide. “what the –” as a reflex response she pushed back at his shoulders, making him fall of the chair.

“the fuck was that for!” he shouted from the floor, his ego and back bruised.  “why did you try to kiss me?” Y/N was shocked, horrified even, at the prospect. Aegon was her best friend, she couldn’t even imagine looking at him in that light. it was Aegon, he was simply too familiar for her.

Aegon raised his hands out as if the answer was obvious. “you said it yourself you wanted to have your first kiss!”. Y/N’s nose scrunched up, “not with you!”.

“well how was I supposed to get that! Fuck me, I’ll never understand you women”

“‘you women?’” at that, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. This scene before her, this response by her best friend was too ridiculous. Yet, she noted as she offered a hand to help him back up which he grumblingly took, this was very much in character for Aegon. She knew he always wanted to help her, he might not have always understood how to go about it, but his heart was in the right place.

“I don’t need you to fix it, aegon.” She affably told him, a faint grateful smile on her face for her friend’s valiant effort nonetheless. “yeah, no-shit, because there’s nothing to fix. You’re not broken, Y/N.” Y/N didn’t know that she needed to hear those words until Aegon said it and it felt as if a burden was lifted off her shoulders.

“Don’t get me wrong. Doing all this, the kissing and the more-than-kissing, it’s fun. Honestly it’s so, so much fun, like I can’t even—” “you wanna get to your point?” “–so it’s great and all but, not doing it doesn’t mean you’re any less for it. You’re still Y/N, you’ll always still be Y/N to me.”

The anxiety she had been feeling, the fear of being left behind and the worry about other’s judgement, even her own – it all started to look so small and insignificant when Aegon told her she was still the same to him. This was her only constant in life, this bond between her and Aegon, the one person she couldn’t hide who she was from. In that moment, she felt glad to have him by her side.

“Besides if you were ever truly that desperate, you could always just try Jace. he’s had a thing for you like forever” Aegon revealed, rolling his eyes in apparent annoyance of the fact. Y/N though, couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Jace… has a thing for me?” The thought of it seemed to please her, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as a red blush started to creep onto her cheeks once more.

Aegon looked disgusted at her response, and grimaced, “yeah okay, no need to flatter yourself too much …. It’s Jace.” He stuck his tongue out at the distaste of the thought of his best friend with his nephew. Y/N didn’t pay him any attention, having taken to doodling hearts in the margins of her notebook while engrossed in thought. Aegon immediately regretted having said anything, snatching the notebook from under her hand, “alright are we going to do some biology or what?”

Age 17

Y/N had been fast asleep when the familiar sound of pebbles against her window awoke her. she looked at the time on the watch as it read 2:17 am, quickly rising from her bed. there was only one person who had to be out there, and she knew why too. her heart sank, knowing already that aegon must have had another fight with his father. she opened the window and as expected, aegon targaryen precariously balanced his steps on the tree branch just outside.

"aegon, what are you doing? It's late," she whispered-shouted, trying not to wake her parents but already held out a hand to help him in. "Needed to see you," he slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol. She wanted to chide him for endangering himself by climbing up so high when he’d drunk so much, but looking at his condition she decided to stay quiet. He climbed into her room, stumbling slightly as he landed. Y/N caught his arm, steadying him. "You've been drinking again," she said, more as a statement than a question.

aegon’s normally sparkling blue eyes were unfocused, his silver hair dishevelled. He'd grown taller of late, she missed the days when she could stand shoulder to shoulder with him. she now had to look up at him, as she put one of his arms around her shoulder to guide him towards the bed as his own steps fumbled.

“He doesn’t get it, Y/N. None of them do. To him, nothing i've done or will do matters for shit. i'm just not the son he wanted. he regrets me, i can see it in his eyes, I—”  a sob escaped his throat, cutting him off mid-sentence.

She gently sat him down on the edge of her bed, his weight pressing down on the soft mattress.  As she looked into his sad, bloodshot eyes, she harboured such hatred for Viserys as she thought impossible for anyone else to hold. she kneeled down in front of him, her heart breaking to see him so.

"I know, i know. But you can’t keep doing this, aegon. If you keep drinking like this, you could seriously hurt yourself one of these days." and she didn't think she could survive that.

she reached out to hold his hands in her own. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you. Always." if aegon heard her, he gave no indication, instead staring at their intertwined hands.

"can I crash here tonight?" he suddenly asked, looking more innocent than she'd ever seen him as he lifted his eyes to look up at her. Gone was the bravado and arrogance that was usual of him, even expected. In that moment he looked more lost than ever, and was looking to her as if she was his only hope for shelter.

she knew her parents wouldn't be thrilled about this impromptu sleepover, but then again she'd never had the ability to deny him anything. "of course," she tenderly smiled.

he kicked off his shoes and moved back up the bed, still holding onto her hand, pulling her with him. he lied down on her pillow, refusing to let go of her hand as he closed his eyes to fall asleep. he looked so peaceful, Y/N couldn’t help but reach out her free hand to run it through his hair in admiration. She wasn’t blind, she knew how handsome he looked, causing the girls to flock to him like moths to a flame. But his looks were just an objective fact to her, she never found herself attracted to him in the same way as the girl at school. But somehow in the pale moonlight, he looked more beautiful than she’d ever seen him, and it caused her chest to swell overwhelmingly.

she looked down to notice he'd opened his eyes again. "Don't leave," he mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion.

"I won't" she promised, pulling the blanket over them both. he nodded in satisfaction of her reply, nestling against the crook of her neck, his breathing evening out as he drifted into a fitful sleep.

Sleep evaded Y/N though, on the one hand she was wracked with worry over Aegon and his drinking habits, on the other.... she could feel his breath tickling her neck, as his one hand held her own while his other wrapped around her waist, his feet entangled with hers. his body pressed to her own under the covers, making the cramped space on her single bed too hot. Aegon had never been this physically close to her, this vulnerable. she thought how his safe space, the place he ran to when he wanted an escape was her, same as he was for her. it had always been this way, yet, in the darkness of the night she sensed something had shifted between them. she couldn't name it yet, though.

The next morning, when the first light of dawn seeped through the curtains, aegon stirred. He blinked, confusion clouding his eyes at his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the familiar face inches from his own "Y/N?" Y/N merely hummed in response, only now starting to stir awake. "what... how did i get here?" he asked looking around the room, startled. He lifted his head as he realised he was all but laid out on top of her, before moving away to lay on his back. He looked down to find his hand had cramped from holding onto hers all night, immediately releasing it. Y/N rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she responded, "what d'you mean?"

"i mean what am i doing in your bed at the crack of dawn." aegon looked earnestly confused, Y/N realised, which worried her.  "You came here last night," she slowly replied, watching his face carefully. "You were drunk. Do you remember?"

aegon frowned, rubbing his temples. "No... I don't." he suddenly looked at Y/N, "Did I do something... did we...?" he motioned to the space between them, his brow raised. Y/N sat up from her bed in alarm, "oh, no, nothing. of course not." she reassured him. she tried not to look too wounded at his relieved expression "good, good." he nodded, staring up at the ceiling.

"you had a fight with your dad and wanted to crash here. do you not remember coming up here last night?" "I don't remember anything really. last thing I do remember is opening one of the bottles from the wine cellar and then" he shrugged. Y/N frowned at his response, "Aegon, have you started blacking out?” her stomach tied itself in knots, feeling anxiety over this new development. But she felt as if she was the only one who understood the gravity of the situation.

she searched for any fear in aegon’s eyes, but only found apathy and disinterest. he seemed unconcerned, merely rolling onto his side and closing his eyes, lazily stretching himself out to get comfortable to fall back asleep.

“do you understand what that means? it means this is getting dangerous. This is no longer all for a good time, Egg.” She attempted again, this time raising her voice to catch his attention. It seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"wake me up for lunch, yeah?" he yawned, drifting back to slumber within minutes.

A wave of anger washed over her, she wanted to knock him off her bed or  hit him with a pillow in frustration over his own self-destructive ways. Did he not understand the ending he was currently headed towards? Did he not care how this going to affect him, affect her? She was tired of being the only safety harness keeping him held back when all he seemed to want to do was jump into the abyss.

“fucking… suit yourself.” She stormed off the bed to head out of her room, shutting the door behind her loudly.

[bluegiragi]

FAQ + COD series masterpost (MONSTER AU + SOAPBOX UNDER THE CUT)

CONTENT WARNING: This blog contains explicit 18+ content! If you are a minor, please do not follow or interact!

(This counts for people who are 17 as well, 18 is truly the minimum age I'd be alright with.)

Commissions: [CLOSED]

Twitter

Patreon (NSFW and early access)

--

Frequently Asked Questions:

(read through the #askbox tag before asking to see if I’ve already answered! repeat questions and spam will be deleted.)

1. What program and brush do you use?

Clip Studio Paint, and I alternate between two brushes: fat sketcher 2 from stealthnacho’s brushset, and short vertical bar (dual brush) from sparth’s art pack 1

2. What tablet do you use?

I use a Surface Pro 8, which is a laptop where you can draw directly onto the screen. However, this is a really pricey purchase and before I had it, I used an Intuous Tablet for 6 years and loved it.

3.Can I repost your art on other platforms?

You can, but please credit me every time!

4.Can I write a fic/make fanart/ make an OC based on your AU?

Yeah sure!

5.Have you thought of what monster [insert character] would be? / Will you be adding [insert character] to the monster AU?

If I haven’t talked about certain characters already, I probably won’t at all. And I don’t have anything against these characters, but it’s more like I’m largely indifferent and have 0 thoughts. Do what you will, I made my AU as a sandbox for others to play in too, so you decide what to do with these characters!

6.Will you ever draw Konig/Soapbox again?

If I feel like it, probably! But the brainrot where it was the main focus has definitely passed <3

7. Can I use your art for c.ai/ character bots?

I'd really prefer it if you didn't, sorry! I take a largely anti-AI stance on most things now.

-

MONSTER 141 AU

extra | team 141 character introductions

extra | konig + horangi character introductions

extra | las almas crew + graves character introduction

part ? | price/gaz rooftop talks

part 1 | bag of tricks

part 2 | ghost/soap muzzle

part 3 | price+ghost check in

part 4 | ghost + soap + gaz in action (part 1)

part 5 | ghost + soap + gaz in action (part 2)

part 6 | ghost + soap + gaz in action (part 3) 

part 7 | sketchdump 1

part 8 | ghost/soap chasing tail

part 9 | soap/fantasy!ghost (full vers on patreon)

part 10 | ghost/soap docile

part 11 | ghost/price due diligence

part 11.5 | ghost/soap due diligence (nsfw - only available on patreon)

part 12 | ghost/price holding back pt 1

part 13 | ghost/price holding back pt 2

part 14 | soap/gaz doing things blind (only available on patreon)

part 15 | konig/horangi clear

part 16 | sketchdump 2

part 17 | debrief

part 18 | ghost/soap work it out (part 1)

part 19 | ghost/soap work it out (part 2)

part 20 | cockatrice (part 1)

part 21 | cockatrice (part 2)

part 22 | sketchdump 3/puppy playtime

part 23 | new moon (part 1)

part 24 | new moon (part 2)

part 25 | new moon (part 3) 

part 26 | open book

part 27 | face to a name

part 28 | before

part 29 | that’s an order

part 30 | diplomacy

part 31 | mr riley

part 32 | human

part 33 | wraith part 34 | sitting ducks part 35 | negotiations part 36 | monster part 37 | bloodsucker part 38 | the lieutenant's arrived part 39 | he keeps his promises part 40 | i'm sorry john. part 41 | mutt part 42 | limitations part 1 part 43 | limitations part 2 part 44 | limitations part 3 part 45 | hoard (full comic on patreon) part 46 | hoard part 2 (full comic on patreon) part 47 | mask off part 48 | aware part 1 part 49 | aware part 2 part 50 | reward (part 1) (suggestive) part 51 | reward (part 2) (nsfw - full comic only available on patreon) part 52 | reward (part 3) (nsfw - full comic only available on patreon) part 53 | catchup part 54 | brief part 55 | group huddle part 56 | quid pro quo part 57 | wing thing part 58 | generous part 59 | learning moment (part 1) part 60 | learning moment (part 2) part 61 | shy part 62 | the viper and the vampire part 63 | easy pickings part 64 | bogey part 65 | trapdoor

SOAPBOX SAGA (SOAP/GHOST/KONIG SERIES)

part 1 | konig/soap first meeting

part 2 | ghost/soap kid and a cookie jar (full vers on patreon)

part 3 | ghost/konig spar pt 1

part 4 | ghost/konig spar pt 2

extra | ghost + konig facecanons

part 5 | ghost/soap heart to heart

part 6 | ghost/konig grow a pair

part 7 | konig/soap do something

part 8 | konig/soap/ghost rough part 1 (full vers on patreon)

part 9 | konig/soap/ghost rough part 2 (full vers on patreon)

part 10 | trio feat. price mission start

part 11 | trio feat!unmasked konig

part 12 | trio feat! unmasked konig pull yourself together

part 13 | konig fantasises (full vers on patreon)

part 14 | ghost/konig feat. soap private lesson

part 15 | ghost/konig/soap lieutenant’s room

part 16 | ghost/konig/soap good for us (full vers on patreon)

[theglamorousferal]

Sorry if you already answered this but I can't stop thinking about DPxDC Samantha al Ghul and I just! Would love to hear your thoughts. Please tell me everything about this AU because I love it so much!

I mostly just have notes on it so far, I haven’t really come up with a plot quite yet, but here’s what I have so far!

Sam is the older twin, born 13 minutes before Damian.

While Damian was more skilled with the sword, Sam's skill lay in long range and poisons. She likes blow darts and meteor hammer, but when they learned guns, she excelled.

She spent a lot of time with the poison master learning about the different plants in the garden. This is where she gets her love of plants. She becomes a poison specialist.

They got separated on a mission at age 8 somewhere in North America when she let go of his hand and fell to a river below so he could pull himself up and survive.

Damian kept trying to get missions nearby to try and find her body, but was unsuccessful.

She got swept downstream and wandered onto a beach on a lake by a lake house that the Manson's were staying at.

They took her in and she went along with whatever they wanted because that's what you did in the League to escape punishment, especially if you weren't the heir.

Pamela was happy to have a little girl she could dress up and seemed to have impeccable manners.

Eventually she realized when they went to the Mason's home in Amity Park, that she had more freedom, that she wouldn't be punished for speaking up and wanting things for herself.

Sam became more comfortable asking for things from the Manson adults. She adored Ida, she was a wonderful adopted grandparent, much better than her bio one. Jeremy found out about her interest in plants and for her 10th birthday gifted her the greenhouse.

One day at after that birthday, she took off with her allowance that she had been hoarding and went to thrift and craft stores and locked herself in her room and figured out a wardrobe that she felt suited her.

Pamela was ecstatic that little Samikins was interested in fashion and helped her find ethically sourced outfits that she could wear to galas. She thought that all these dark clothes was just a phase and so allowed it, but became shocked to realize that it's just how she was going to be.

That school year, she met Danny and Tucker when she started at Casper Middle School. They ended up assigned together on an English assignment. They meet at Tucker's house to work on it and Sam ends up leading the group and they become close.

When Danny becomes Phantom, she trains him as best she can without revealing that she was raised by assassins. The boys don't really ask questions, they just think of Sam as tough and that she probably got into fights before she met them.

That's about all I've got for now. Again, I have ideas, but not really a plot to go with it. Feel free to take and run with it!

[writeaboutit]

Silly Abby Candy’s for Kids

Abby tries sneaking candy before Halloween and reader is not having it

Hellooo I’m in the mood to write some halloween themed stuff the rest of this month so stay tuned for a couple more stories!! Anyway just quickly wrote this which means there are deff mistakes on there. I’ll do my best to edit as I catch them but sorry in advance. Hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: Mainly fluff, tini tiny bit suggestive

Part 1: Donation Boot

Part 2: Damn the Chief

You grabbed yours and Abby’s dinner plates off of the dining room table and headed into the kitchen to deposit them in the sink.

Abby followed suit rolling up the place mats and grabbing both wine glasses, now empty.

There was a warm ember in your stomach from the alcohol just waiting to strike into a roaring fire.

At the sink you quickly rinsed the lingering bits of food off of the plates and slotted them into the dishwasher.

Before you could walk away from the sink however you hips were pined to the counter as Abby moved into the space behind you.

You giggled at her closeness, constantly feeling like a bumbling teenage version of yourself around her.

Your wife however acted if nothing was out of the ordinary. She went about her business swirling a bit of water in the bottom of the glass to rid them of the dried red line and placing them ever so gently onto the top was rack of the appliance.

Chills broke out across your neck as you felt her warm breath fan across your shoulder with each movement. This was seriously not helping the alcohol buzz.

You needed to clear your head before you both got distracted and wasted the rest of the night away. The idea of it was too enticing. Dangerous.

You bumped your bum back towards her hips, “Give me some space Anderson,”

She chuckled and placed a quick peck to your cheek, “Never Anderson,” though she complied and backed up and leaned against the opposite counter.

Next to her sat a big black bowl, or not really a bowl you guess, more of a cauldron. In it was mini individually wrapped candy bars.

Halloween was only a few days away and you had to get some treats before the grocery store shelves were bare. You’d hate to disappoint the neighborhood kids the night of.

Abby however thought it was dumb to buy all that candy. For some reason she was convinced you guys would only get two trick of treaters this year and then be stuck with three months worth of candy.

It wasn’t true of course, you were usually out of candy by 10 pm on Halloween night but Abby was more or less… a halloween Scrooge; at least when it came to kids taking the candy she was hoping to eat.

She complained about the candy but secretly she hoped no one would knock on that door come the 31st so she could hoard it all to herself like a dragon with gold.

She was already reaching into the cauldron as you dried your hands, trying to sneak a piece.

Not on your watch. You whipped the towel in her direction hitting the side of her thigh.

The movement made her jump in surprise. She looked over at you, the picture of innocence.

“What the hell was that for?”

You raised your eyebrows at her, “That candy is for the kids this weekend.”

“Oh come on one piece won’t hurt.” She tried to use her best begging eyes.

It was not going to work, at least not when it came to the candy but the wine was getting to your head now and other ideas came to mind.

You walked past her only slowing to grab her belt loop and drag her behind you.

“Where are we going?” She asked as the pair of you trailed over to the staircase.

You stopped at the base and turned to look up at her, “You can’t have the candy as dessert,” you paused for dramatic effect and whipped your baggy t shirt over your head. What can you say you have a flare for the dramatics, “but I have a better one for you, if you want it of course?”

Abby’s mouth hung open in surprise before she finally gathered herself, “Hell yes.”

You spun around to run up the stairs, giggling as Abby chased behind you.

[yiiyiiwrites]

🗡️ | Relics and Ruin | 2 |

Part Two [Previous part] [series masterlist]

Summary: you're a mender in the dawn court, tasked with fixing cursed and broken relics. Azriel x dawn court reader 2,546words

Two days of staring at the truth-teller and it kept repeating the same word. Lies.

The dagger rattled on the table, your older sister pacing the free space in front of you. If you didn't know any better you'd think the relic wasn't fond of her hurried speech or tone either.

"Mother above," she snapped, her hand steadying the truth-teller. "You can't even talk about it, yet you're going down there with those people."

"I think they're more than capable to go there," you said swatting her away from the table.

Truth truth, the murmurs somehow reassuring your fears. You wondered what other energy surrounded the dagger, the thought pulling you to pick it up. The hilt warm against your skin, surprisingly light and it moulded to the curve of your palm as if it were meant to be.

Your sisters words were muffled, the sharp blade drawing your attention. The hold it had on you, intense. A dull twinge pierced your chest and you recognised the aching tug of longing. You'd felt it under the mountain, the burning desire to feel the sun upon your face and breeze washing over you.

A gloved hand circled your wrist and you gasped, truth-teller clinking to the table. Blinking back the blurry vision, shadows swarmed around you, the wind tracing your cheek. The hold on your wrist acted like an anchor, firm but light as you calmed your racing heart.

"Hello," a low, smooth voice spoke beside you. If there wasn't a weight clutching you, you'd think it was the shadows speaking.

Just like the truth-teller, it's owner seemed to tug and draw you in. His touch oddly welcome and familiar, it had been years since you'd allowed someone so close. You stared up at him, hazel eyes focused on your sister.

You slipped out of his grasp and stepped back, your hand shooing the wisps of darkness. Of course he'd look at your sister, so much light and love.

Lies, lies.

The difference was startling as Lena, your sister stood in the golden light of the sun. Her bronzed skin held a warmth you denied yourself, keeping yourself in your studio. Hair that reminded you of rising sun, long and swishing halfway down her back. You on the other hand had chopped your hair off as soon as you were free from under the mountain.

As Lena spoke to the Illyrian, you took the opportunity to study him. He's quiet, but his gaze focused on Lena's as he listened to her rambling on. His gloved hands tucked behind him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if he knows you are admiring him.

He didn't say a word to your sister, but she's leaning closer and smiling up at him as if he's inviting her. Maybe that's why you feel a pull towards him, he's magnetic and drawing anyone in.

Lies, Lies.

Lena placed her palm on his arm, "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name." She'd been weaving through the court, denying her hand in marriage until she either met her mate or someone with high nobility.

You couldn't help but feel the burn, brows furrowing at your sister and the smooth action, something you'd never dare to do.

"Azriel," he said, stepping back and bowing his head slightly.

His gaze met yours and you looked away, finger following the woods grain of the table. The relics hoarding your studio were quiet, truth-teller the only one seeking your energy. The silence all too consuming, your thoughts flowing freely. Multiple energies were dulled since the dagger had been left in your possession, commanding you to face your mind or maybe your own truths.

Bidding your goodbyes to your sister, eyes trailing after her to make sure she left. As you turned back to your desk, you flinched away from the shadows. You hadn't realised how close he was, didn't hear him approach your workstation.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, regretting the harsh tone of your voice.

Azriel picked up his dagger, turning the blade over and inspecting it. His shadows snaked around his gloved hand and to the scripture on the hilt as if reading it aloud. "Just wanted to see if you'd familiarised yourself with the energy."

Lies,lies.

He tensed, wings twitching briefly, but you caught it. Could the truth-teller speak to him too? Truth, truth

"You lie." The words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.

His brow arched, "so you have familiarised yourself. Truth-teller rarely calls or speaks to others, you must be special." You didn't say how his energy matched, how you felt the same tug to him. A reason you couldn't hold his gaze, didn't want to get lost in the possibilities of your emotions.

You shrugged, "I'm not, just merely open to an objects energy and have a well trained ear to seek them out." The one advantage of rotting under the mountain meant you could hone your mending abilities, not that you had any choice. Fifty years tethered to cursed objects and magical relics, haunted by touch alone.

"And what do the other relics tell you right now?" Azriel asked, once again distracting you from your thoughts and memories.

The energy you used to seek comfort in was nothing but a withering buzz. Even the cursed relics usual shrieking, underwhelming. “Truth-teller calls above them all, draws me in as if it’s the only thing that matters.”

Two sides of the same blade.

The boundary of the dawn court and the beginning of the middle was somewhere you vowed never to step over again. You glanced over your shoulder at the rising sun, as if you’d never see it again for another fifty years.

Your body moved on memory alone, legs carrying you through the large stones entrance hidden beneath the weaving branches of trees. All source of natural light vanished as you stepped over the threshold. Your boots squelched in the trickling water that ran down the caves wall.

A small ball of light floated in front of you, but you were the one guiding them through the maze of passageways. Your head tilted to the side, pointed ears straining to hear of anything beyond your path.

Under the mountain was a place no one had mapped out completely. This entrance however led to the least desirable section. Not intricately carved out like the main area or the throne room. Granted, you’d never been out of this quarter, only three times had you walked the narrow passageways. You’d always remember though, your memory being something you trained as well as your mending skills.

No one had uttered a single word, afraid to hear your voice echoing back to you or summoning something from the depths of the darkness.

As you rounded the corner, your steps faltered. The familiar dingy hallway, doors lining each side. It felt just like before, the deep rooted knot in your stomach twisting. You expected to be shoved forward, but a light touch pressed against your lower back and you leant into the warmth.

“Rhys will go in if you cannot face it.” Azriels whispered breath fanned against the shell of your ear. You’d gone over the plan with them over a hundred times, each time Azriel had reassured you that you were not alone. That you did not have to do anything you were not comfortable with.

You shook your head, retreating from his touch and away from the warmth. Seven doors down, you stopped outside and glanced to the one opposite, the one that still haunted you at night.

“This is the relic room, I will check the other.” Your hand hovered over the broken chain, the ward spelled over the wooden panel zapping your fingertip. Thesan had warded the room so that no one could steal the relics, Rhys learnt how to break and remake it from entering his mind.

Rhys nodded, “we’ll meet back out here, try to keep it quiet. Don’t want to wake anything lurking,” he said, his magic making easy work of dropping the ward. The energy of the spell fell like a sheet of liquid gold, particles disappearing into the gravel.

Halfway through the door opposite you paused, “oh, stick to the shadows and if you hear screaming do not follow the light. Stay in the darkness and do nothing.”

The floating light whizzed past you into the room, it followed your gaze and lit up the areas you searched. You took the gloves from your pocket and shoved them on, the one thing they never allowed you under the mountain.

Touch meant more to menders than any other fae. It being both creation and destruction. Normal fae were more inclined to destroy something they did not understand, whereas you studied and mended. Just couldn’t mend all the destruction they’d done to you.

You tried not to remember this room, the contents still exactly how it had been when you’d last been there. The bed unmade, desk strewn with papers and his messy cursive writing. He’d always have ink staining the side of his fingers, sometimes it’d transfer to your jaw or cheek.

“This was your room?” Azriel asked, sifting through the papers on the desk. His hazel eyes glistening in the dull light as he glanced to you.

Those eyes, you couldn’t quite hold for longer than second. “No, this is someone else’s.” You dropped to your knees and pressed your cheek to the ground, arm sweeping underneath the bed. A small silver box scraped towards you, lock sealed shut.

You didn’t miss the scrunch of Azriel’s brow or the burning gaze that trailed your movements. It’s like he’s in a trance, that or he’s trying to figure you out in a room that isn’t, wasn’t yours. You removed your gloves, the leather too stiff, the constant squeak unbearable in the silence.

He sidestepped you as soon as your hands traced the side of the desk and opened the drawer. Vials of ink rolled to the front, a set of keys jingling on a metal ring. You took the keys, knowing what each one was for.

“I have what I need, let’s go to the relic room,” you said, glancing over your shoulder one last time before you leave the room for good.

Azriel’s hand hovered behind you, but you can feel the warmth and energy alone without his touch. It calms your racing heart and gives you the strength to the meet the relics again.

Cassian’s gaze flicked from the box in your grasp and to Azriel who remained close to you. Rhys staring at the hoards of relics, eyes glazed as he tried to listen for the murmurs of the desired object.

Dark wisps tumbled over your shoulder and twisted around one another as they travelled towards a glimmering spec of light. You would have missed it, if it wasn't for the pesky shadows whirling around the hilt.

The moment your gaze latched onto the relic, a high screech tore through the room and you dropped the box, silver slipping through your fingers. You heard the echo of voices, they merged with the swords energy as if they were connected.

"We've got company."

Azriel spoke, but as you turned to look at him you were met with nothing but shadows. Rhys vanished in a blink of an eye, Cassian crossing the space between you. He balanced a small dagger, blade between his fingers waiting for you to take it. You shook your head and picked the small silver box from the floor.

You grabbed his wrist, "stay in the shadows, don't go to the light." The lock clicked open with the turn of the key, you hesitated with the clasp, steadying your breath for what was to come.

Before you could open the box, Azriel's heavy hand slammed into yours keeping the lid closed. "Together," he said, giving you a slight nod, keeping his promise of not doing anything alone. His shadows swarmed around the two of you, those Illyrian wings curling in as you opened the lid.

You did not know, nor did you ask what spirit lived within the box. Only knew that when you closed it again, you would summon it back to its dwelling it was contained to.

A grey mist snaked out of the top and dove towards the remaining light through the gap between Azriel's wings. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, goosebumps rippling your bare arms. An icy cool breeze hung in the spirits wake, but it seemed to drag Azriel's shadows with it.

The darkness cloaking Azriel and you faded, his grasp on your hand loosening. "Go, help your friends," you whispered. You don't know what possessed you, but your finger smoothed the line of tension settled on his forehead. Blue ink stained his forehead, your fingertips painted the same colour.

"Autumn guards are here, the darkness devours them," he said, more to himself than you. The screams in the passageway filtered through to the relics room, high pitched shrieks tugging at Azriel like his shadows were trying to draw him out to the destruction.

He moved as quick as the shadows, the floating ball of light flaring in front of you. You saw the darkness shift, felt the breeze knock you back a few steps.

Stumbling back, you crashed into a firm chest. Scorching heat enveloped around you, burning touch forcing your hands to close the lid before the spirit devoured your light. You leant into the embrace, eye's closing as you savoured the thousand sparks of energy spreading like wildfire through your body.

"Do not touch her," Cassian spat.

You opened your eyes, the three Illyrian's scowling at the one behind you. The one you knew so well, the one that knew you too well. He let go and you turned to face him.

"Vanserra," you whispered. Eris Vanserra smirked down at you, his hand picking yours up. Ink smudging his fingers, he glanced between your stained hands and the blue smeared across Azriel's forehead.

"It's good to see you," Eris crooned, lifting your chin with his ink splotched hand. "My little mender."

You hated the way your body betrayed you, the mark on your chest burning at his silent command. The tethered bond coaxing you to lean into his touch, despite the stinging burn. You couldn't bring yourself to look at the shadow-singer or his friends, but you knew from his silence that whatever he thought of you before, was nothing now. Why did it bother you so much though?

Before your lips could touch Eris's, he'd winnowed you away in a blur.

taglist: @rcarbo1, @st4r-girl-official,@azrielswhore, @cynthiesjmxazrielslover, @shizukestar, @wolfbc97

I'm already writing the next part, sorry for the long wait between the first part...I was sick so only just getting back to writing now -Yiiyii

[familyvideostevie]

hey! do you think you could do a steve x reader fic that's grumpy x sunshine? ty in advance!

i have truly had this in my inbox for over a year, so i am so very sorry for hoarding it. i've twisted it a little -- here we've got what happens when you, usually the sunshine to steve's grumpy, has a bit of a bad day yourself. hope you like! sunshine!reader and grumpy!steve on a day when you're the grumpy one | fluff, 1.2k

Steve notices immediately. It's kind of weird, actually. He leans heavily against your door as he shuts it behind him, toeing off his shoes. The plastic of the takeout bags digs into his hands a little but he's just glad to be here, glad to finally see you after a long day. He likes your place better than his and he likes you best of all.

But something is off. There's no music, no familiar smell of that beachy candle he bought you burning. Are you napping? It's possible, but you sounded pretty excited when you called him at lunch asking him to come for dinner. And Steve, sue him, kind of expected you to greet him.

It's kind of an asshole thought, he can admit that, but you always do. You're always nothing short of thrilled to see him, your boyfriend, like he's been away for years rather than a day of work. You throw your arms around him and sing-song his name and kiss him sloppily because you're smiling so wide. Your love for him is infectious and he feels it all the way to his bones.

Because he's not exactly known for being a nice guy, right? Sure, he's not like, a jackass, not anymore, but he's not exactly cheery all the time. He's quieter than he was, a little more serious. It just comes with the territory. Getting older, dealing with shit. God knows he's dealt with a lot of shit.

But you? You're fucking sunshine. There's no other way to put it. He has no idea where you get your endless smiles for him, the laughter that bubbles out of you like sheer goodness personified. And you're with him. You love him.

Steve doesn't get it but hey, he's not going to complain.

So, something has to be wrong. "It's me!" he calls into the apartment. "Steve," he tacks on a bit lamely, hoping it'll make you laugh.

"On the couch," you call back. You don't sound sick or anything so that's not it. He pops into the kitchen to set down your dinner before shucking off his jacket and padding to the living room. When he spots you something in his chest loosens. God, he's so gone for you.

"Hey," he says lightly.

You look up at him from your book with a small smile but it's dimmer than he expects. "Hi, Steve," you say. You're pressed against the arm of the sofa with your legs stretched out, a book in your lap. You reach for him with one hand over the back of the couch. "Did you bring dinner?"

"Sure did," he says. He twines his fingers with yours and leans over to press his lips to your forehead. You sigh. "Nah, screw it," he says. "I'm coming over."

You know what he's going to do. "Be careful --" you try to say but he's already hoisting himself over and onto the couch. You pull your legs to your chest just in time as he bounces on the cushions a little bit.

Steve likes to be close to you. Everyone gives him shit for it when you're out, how he's always on you so much. Arm around your shoulder, thigh pressed to yours at the table. Hand in your pocket or holding yours. You've told him you like it, too, that it's grounding, so that's what he's aiming for. You shove your socked toes under his thigh and he wraps a hand around your ankle.

Time to see what the hell is going on with you. "So," he says. "Who do I need to beat up?"

You look moderately amused. "What do you mean by that, Steve?"

He reaches for you with his free hand. You've got a crease between your brows and he smooths it with his thumb. "You seem...down."

You hug yourself with your arms and sink deeper into the couch and lose his gaze. "Do I?" you say softly. "Sorry."

"Woah," Steve rushes to say. "Woah, no, hey, don't apologize. I just want to see what's wrong."

You say no more. His thumb strokes your ankle lightly and he wonders what the hell he's going to do to make you feel better. He's not very good at this part. You're always the one to bring him out of bad moods, to remind him of all the good stuff he's got going on. He can do this for you.

Steve gently pulls the book from your lap, folding the corner of the page before he puts it on the table.

"I was reading that," you say lightly.

"Yeah, well," he says. "You know I need attention to survive." You huff a laugh. Okay, progress.

Steve reaches for your face again. He lets go of your ankle this time so he can cup your cheek, your knees pressing into his chest a little. It's not a great angle but he can work with it.

"Baby," he says. It's your favorite thing he calls you other than your name since he saves it for moments like this -- when it's just the two of you. "Can you tell me what's wrong? So I can help?"

Your eyes shut and you lean into his palm. You take a deep breath and it shudders a little in your chest.

"I don't know, Steve," you whisper. "I know I'm usually so -- so -- happy, but I just got kind of sad this afternoon." You pull the words from yourself like a confession and Steve hates it. He hates how you sound disappointed in yourself.

"That's okay," he says. "Christ, that's more than okay. You can feel however you want. I mean, come on, you know I'm grumpy basically all the time." He hopes yet again it will make you laugh but he fails miserably as you sniffle. "Okay, come here."

You pull your feet from under his thigh and he hauls your legs over his lap so he can give you a real hug. He can feel your nose in his neck as you inhale deeply. He rubs his palm up and down your spine. He's had bad days, too. Hell, he has lots of them. It just happens, he just never realized it could happen to you, too.

"So, and correct me if I'm wrong here because you know me, but what I'm hearing is you just feel like shit and there's not much more to it."

You nod into his embrace. "That's about right."

"What can I do ?" You pull back at his question and give him a real smile, brighter than anything in the room.

"Just this," you say. "I'm sure it'll go away." Your fingers trace the line of his nose, his chin.

"It's okay if it doesn't," Steve reminds you. You tell him the same thing all the time. "Seriously. I know we have this whole dynamic or whatever but you can feel like shit forever, if you want. I hope you don't, obviously, but I'll take care of you if --"

You press your fingers over his mouth. "It's okay, Steve," you say. "I'll be fine. But I know you would."

Your own lips replace your fingers and you kiss him sweetly. He isn't ashamed to say he melts into it a little. He wanted to kiss you the second he walked in the door.

He's about to turn this into something a little less sweet when your stomach grumbles between you and you both pull back with a laugh. "Okay," he says. "Well, that I can fix."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[kthecritter]

Welcome to my kin care blog!

name(s): Elliott, Eli, K, Kai (for me; the host)

pronouns: they/them, it/its, he/him, xe/xem, meow/meow, bark/bark

This is a side blog for @elliott-the-creature !

More about me here!

spam is ok, but not encouraged :/

here are the requirements for requesting something from me!

↑ pls view this before requesting ↑

anything I make is EXCLUSIVELY for the person/people who requested it (unless stated otherwise). please do not use anything that you didn’t request

requests are open from 2:00pm to 9:00pm on weekdays, and 10:00am to 10:00pm on weekends (pacific standard time). I may be late closing/opening them though, sorry!

here is what I use to make my stuff!

❗️DO NOT INTERACT/FOLLOW❗️

Basic dni

Anti contradictory queer labels (like mspec gay/lesbian, gaybian, lesboy, turigirl, nonbinary boy/girl, etc.)

Nationalist

Pro-cop

Pro-military/warmonger

Anti cringe

Anti kin (includes those against physical alterhumans, otherlinks, fictionkins, etc.)

Anti age-regre/pet-regre

P0rn/nsfw account

14 years or under (I’m almost an adult and feel weird interacting with people significantly younger than me)

Right-winger

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Anti objectum/POSIC+

Political and/or war related blogs. And yes, this includes blogs related to world conflicts like russia/ukraine and israel/palestine. I do not enjoy seeing war and genocide, and I obviously want it to stop and for people to stop needlessly killing and dying, but it can be distressing or frustrating to see, so don’t interact if that’s the main thing you post. this also includes asks related to donations for war efforts and support like that.

Anti self diagnosis (fakeclaimers will NOT be tolerated though)

Accounts with no content (idk if you’re a bot or side account for potential spam)

I only have content under the cut for things like violence, gross stuff, blood/gore, bright colours/eyestrain, and weapons/weapon-like objects. I tag for most things that would be fears/phobias for other people, but I won’t put them under a cut. I do NOT put tags for things like food, swearing, all caps, and other minor stuff like that.

massive (and constantly growing) hoard of userboxes (all made by me). DO NOT USE THESE FOR YOURSELF ⬇️

I hope you enjoy my content! 🩷