#than with my funky jaw

[familyofpaladins]

So I went to the dentist yesterday

(it's really funny because I've had a note on my file for YEARS that says my jaw pops (mostly so it doesn't freak whichever hygienist out), but it's normally not too loud/ I'm able to move my jaw just enough while they're cleaning my teeth that they don't notice it too much. but when I went to demonstrate it for the dentist it was one of the loudest it's ever been lol. And their faces immediately after that was so funny I had to draw it.

He asked me if i wanted a specialist recommended, but I said that it usually didn't bother me, and he said he'd go ahead and put a note on my file in case I ever change my mind. And maybe I will once I actually get insurance figured out with my job.)

[aza-trash-can]

Having a breakdown today and I just got therapised by a Cosmo Sheldrake song

Yeah, maybe I shouldn't make a mountain out of this molehill, let's get my shit done

[pucksandpower]

A Crime Against Fashion

Charles Leclerc x fashion designer!Reader

Summary: you love Charles more than life itself, but everyone has a breaking point … and yours is those damn pants

You stride into the spacious open-concept living room of the luxury apartment you share with your boyfriend, tossing your leather tote onto the couch with a huff. Another long day of design meetings and fittings for your upcoming spring collection has left you completely drained.

But your frustration isn’t just from work stress this time. No, it’s those blasted pants again.

As if on cue, Charles emerges from the bedroom wearing the dreaded blue and white tie-dye atrocities that have been your nemesis for weeks now. You can’t hold back a small groan of exasperation.

“What’s wrong, mon cœur?” Charles asks with his trademark lopsided smile, those warm emerald-colored eyes crinkling at the corners.

You gesture helplessly at the offending garment. “Charles … those pants. They’re just … how can I put this delicately? A crime against fashion.”

He glances down at the loose-fitting psychedelic nightmares, seemingly oblivious to their ugliness. “What do you mean? I think they’re kind of funky.”

“Funky?” You echo incredulously. “That’s one word for them, I suppose. Hideously unstylish is another.”

Charles pouts, sticking out his full lower lip in that irresistible way he knows gets you flustered. “But chérie, I really like them. They’re so comfy and casual.”

You shake your head adamantly, trying not to get distracted by how criminally attractive he looks even in those ridiculous pants. “No, nope. As your girlfriend and a designer, I simply cannot allow you to go out in public wearing those any longer. It’s a matter of principle!”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh? And just what do you plan to do about it, hmm?”

A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Well, I do have a few ideas …” You lunge toward him playfully.

With a yelp of surprise, Charles dodges out of the way, those long legs carrying him across the living room as you give chase. You laugh breathlessly, finally managing to catch him and wrap your arms around his slender waist from behind.

“Quit running away from me, Leclerc!” You tease, nuzzling against the back of his neck. “You know this is for your own good.”

Charles twists around in your arms until you’re face to face. His expression is one of feigned indignation but you can see his warm green eyes are dancing with amusement. “I will not be bullied about my clothing choices by you, Y/N Y/L/N! These pants are staying and that’s final!”

You answer by promptly planting a line of teasing kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, making him shiver. “Is that so? We’ll see about that, pretty boy.”

That evening, you make a point to avoid looking at or even acknowledging the offensive pants for the rest of the night. At one point, Charles good-naturedly tries to get a rise out of you by draping the tie-dyed nightmares over the back of the couch right in your line of sight. But you simply turn your nose up with an overdramatic harrumph, refusing to take the bait.

“Very mature,” Charles chuckles from beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours in that casual yet intimate way.

You shoot him a pointed look from the corner of your eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m simply refusing to lend any credibility to those … those …” You wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the pants hanging over the couch.

“You mean my pants?” Charles supplies helpfully, that infuriatingly charming grin stretching across his full lips.

“Ugh, don’t even call them that! Actual pants deserve more respect.” You lean your head against the back of the couch in exasperation.

Charles scoots closer until his side is flush against yours. He cups your jaw in one of those large, calloused racing hands and gently turns your face until you’re meeting his molten gaze. “You’re just jealous that I look better in them than you ever could, mon amour.”

His teasing words further ignite the spark of competitive spirit smoldering in your chest. With a surge of determination, you press a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Challenge accepted, Leclerc.”

Two nights later, as Charles arrives back at the apartment after a grueling day of training, he immediately notices that something is … off.

He pads through the living room toward the bedroom, brow furrowed in confusion at the odd scattering of fabric scraps and loose threads on the floor. Your sewing machine is set up on the dining table, various rattles and clanks echoing from the bedroom.

“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly. “Everything okay in there?”

You poke your head out from around the bedroom doorway, cheeks flushed and hair slightly askew. But your eyes are bright with mischief. “Charles! You’re home, perfect. Come in here for a second?”

With a shrug, he follows you into the bedroom. Only to stop dead in his tracks, jaw dropping almost comically. There on the floor in a tattered, unrecognizable heap of fabric are … his beloved tie-dye pants. The ones you had so vehemently loathed.

“Y/N, what … how … why …” he splutters, seemingly at a loss for words as he crouches down and gingerly runs a finger over the ragged remnants.

Resting your hands on your hips, you try not to look too triumphant. “What can I say? The cat got to them.”

Charles’ brows knit together in confusion. “We don’t have a cat, mon ange.”

Oops. Think fast.

“Well, uh, I was actually cat-sitting for Max today! You know how crazy Jimmy and Sassy can be. Those little balls of fluff must have gotten a hold of your pants and just went to town on them.”

You shrug innocently, the very picture of wide-eyed virtue. “Who can blame them, really? I warned you those pants were a crime against nature itself.”

For a long beat, Charles simply stares at the remains of his pants, then at you, eyes narrowed. You can practically see the realization dawning on his stupidly handsome face. Before he can call you out, you pivot on your heel.

“Anyway!” You clear your throat. “Since those pants were so adamantly beloved by you, I decided to give the fabric a little … redesign. Just to prove my point.” You turn back toward him, dropping the robe you had wrapped around yourself, to reveal your new creation. “What do you think?”

Charles’ breath seems to catch in his throat as you reveal the vibrant blue and white tie-dye fabric, repurposed into a sleek mini-skirt that hugs your curves in all the right ways. You punctuate the look by posing with one hand on your cocked hip, letting the skirt’s flirty hem swish teasingly.

“Well?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly, unable to keep the triumphant smirk from tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I believe you said something about looking better in those pants than me?”

To Charles’ credit, he recovers his powers of speech relatively quickly, running one hand through those tousled chestnut curls. “Y/N, you … you look …” He seems to struggle to find the words, green eyes raking over your figure appreciatively. "Incroyable. Magnifique."

You feel your cheeks warming at his praise, suddenly grateful for your impromptu redesign. “So I’ll take that as a point proven then?” You prod teasingly.

Charles finally tears his heated gaze from your body to meet your eyes, crossing the room in a few long strides until he’s crowding into your personal space. You catch your breath as his calloused hands settle on the curve of your waist, fingers brushing tantalizingly over the tie-dye fabric.

“More than proven, mon amour,” he rumbles in that low, gravelly tone that never fails to make your pulse kick up a notch. “I stand corrected — this fabric was absolutely meant for you and you alone.”

Before you can react with more than a breathless giggle, he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you dizzy and melting against the hard planes of his chest.

As you slowly break away trying to catch your breath, a wicked grin curves your lips. Placing your palms flat against Charles’ chest, you lean back just enough to meet his lidded, lust-blown gaze.

“You know …” you murmur, trailing a fingertip down the taut line of his throat and relishing the way his eyes darken further. “Now that I’ve refashioned those pants into this skirt, I believe that means they’re officially off-limits for you to wear. Unless …”

You bite your lower lip coyly, letting the implication hang in the air. Charles cocks an eyebrow, a rakish smirk of his own playing about those full lips as he catches your meaning.

“Unless what, ma belle?” His voice is thick with undisguised longing as he pulls you flush against him once more.

Stretching up on your tiptoes, you brush a feather-light kiss to that sharp, stubbly jawline. “Unless you’d fancy giving this skirt a spin for me sometime, Mr. Leclerc,” you practically purr into the heated space between your bodies. “Because I can absolutely get behind that look on you.”

Charles throws back his head with a rich peal of laughter, the sound reverberating through you. As his hands roam possessively over the tie-dye fabric now molded to your curves, you decide you’ll have to put in a request to see that particular fashion show very soon.

[lemon-lime-behavior]

Do you have any tips for drawing noses? Sorry this is out of nowhere but I'm wanting to improve on my art, specifically the faces, and it's always the nose I find myself struggling most with.

I really struggle w making it fit the face if that makes sense? Every time I try to add it it just throws the whole face off, especially the eyes, not to mention how to make different nose types and the angles </33

I love your art style so bad, it's so smooth and satisfying to look at and the way you draw noses like it's nbd (and anatomy in general like damn) baffles me so I was just wondering if you maybe had any tricks or not, Ty either way for sharing your art in the first place <33

@extravagav Well I can try! First off thank you very much, I often feel like I still have a very long way to go in regards to proportions and anatomy so I really appreciate your kind words <3

Hokay, so, noses. I do love noses. To start off when it comes to drawing noses I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you the most annoying advice in the world which is just to practice a lot. Find a lot of pictures of noses in a bunch of different shapes from a bunch of different angles and just draw them until your brain melts out of your ears. Pay particular attention though to the nose as a 3D object!

It's of course trickier to do than I'm making it out to be but the more you practice at imagining the nose as a 3d physical form the easier it becomes to make a nose model in your mind that you can rotate like a microwave.

This is my personal very very basic understanding of the nose's construction:

it's like three circles and a taco shell.

Okay so now that you've got a basic understanding of the nose's construction, how to put it in the middle of the god-dang face??

So the funky thing about noses is that they tend to change shape the least out of all our facial features when we're making expressions. Our eyes change shape, our mouths move, our eyebrows, our cheeks, our jaws, they all go all over the place. the nose, however, tends to be pretty stationary and doesn't deform much (save in one important way I'll get to later). So because of all this, and here's my biggest piece of advice when it comes to making the nose fit in the face, I like to draw the nose first! I do a very loose head construction, draw the nose, and then sort of "hang" the rest of the features off of it:

Two very different expressions, same nose!

Now when it comes to noses interacting specifically with the eyes the greatest thing to remember is that the part of the nose that sits between the eyes sticks out farther than you might think, and will likely be obscuring one of them, the extent of which depending a lot on the angle and how pronounced the nose bridge is.

for someone with a pretty flat nose bridge you'll be able to see most of the eye except in a more extreme angle, while someone with a protruding ridge might obscure the eye entirely. but the nose will likely be interacting with at least one eye if we're not facing the character head on. Really making your brain think in 3d is gonna most helpful here.

Finally! The nose being expressive! So the main way the nose plays in to expression is by wrinkling. the muscles that pull up your top lip and the muscles that pull down the middle of your forehead are almost all connected to the nose, so the nose tends to develop a lot of wrinkles whenever brows are furrowed or teeth are bared.

Adding those wrinkles can add a lot of impact in the expression! And not just angry ones neither:

Sooooooooooooooo yeah! noses! They're weird and they come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and they can do a lot to add character to a face and they can also make you want to tear your hair out in big clumps! I'm still learning myself when it comes to noses (and most other things) and I'm faaaar from a master at it, but I hope I've been able to provide at least a little bit of help. If you do use my advice going forward please let me know! Good luck!!!!! (And here's all my nose "headcanons" for the strawhats. The ones who actually have human noses, anyway):

[thatgenericwriter]

The Proposal || Gregory House

Paring: Gregory House x fem!reader

Summary: House is going to propose to you but your nail color is not what he was expecting

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 0.5k

P.s. based off a request by anonymous

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"Bright fucking green! Out of all the colors she could have chosen, she chooses bright green!" Wilson could only watch as his best friend loses his mind.

"Why would she choose now to venture out of her comfort zone! She's had some funky colors before, but BRIGHT FUCKING GREEN!?" House paces the room, as best he can, occasionally swinging his cane around wildly.

Wilson can only feel pity for his friend and a tad bit of guilt. He was the one who told House to make sure you got your nails done before he proposed to you. He was scolded by his ex about not warning her before and he just wanted his best friend to have a better proposal than he did.

He never thought this would be the outcome. "Why don't you just tell her to get them done again? This time something a little more tame.'" House stops mid-pace pondering the suggestion before shaking his head and collapsing onto Wilson's couch.

"I can't. She likes them too much and she was so proud of herself for going outside of her comfort zone. It would crush her if I told her to change to her normal color." Wilson shakes his head at his friend, glad that he actually is considering your feelings, but knowing House is going to find an elaborate way to make you change them. Most likely hurting your feelings even more than if he was to tell you.

Luckily, House did not have to create an elaborate plan as you walked in with a fresh new set of nails. "There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!" House sits up as you come bounding over to him holding up your hands to show your very natural looking nails. "What do ya think?"

House looks from your face to your nails before pulling you down onto his lap. You yelp in surprise and try to avoid his bad leg as you are manhandled into a straddling position on top of him.

"I love you so much." Another yelp leaves your mouth as House smashes his lips onto yours. You pull back slightly panting and questioning his actions.

"All I did was change my nail color." He pulls you back in for another kiss that continues until Wilson clears his throat. "As much as I love to watch you guys make out, I would rather get back to my work." Taking the hint you shimmy off of House's lap and start for the door.

"Why did you change the color?" You turn back to face House who hasn't moved from his spot on the couch.

You smirk at him, "I couldn't let you propose to me while I had bright green nails, duh." House lets out a little chuckle and you watch Wilson's jaw drop before opening the door and bidding them goodbye.

[just-an-anon-reader]

The Forgotten Sister

Chapter II

Pairing: Ekko x Fem!Reader

Tags: Minimal use if Y/N, no specific description of the reader, friends to lovers, CW swearing, CW blood, CW injury, CW violence, CW guns, TW death

A/N: This took me forever to figure out how to not make too dialogue dependent 😰

Chapter III

...this is Caitlyn?

You thought to yourself. Watching her glower and glare from her spot on the dirty steel floor. This, even though she was, quite literally, free. Free from both the dirty rag bag over her head and the rusty but well-oiled cuffs that would have kept her hands behind her back. She continued, saying something that, paired with her low tone and your lack of focus, you missed. After all, rather than listening to an untrustworthy Piltie enforcer prattle on about heroics, your attention shifted to the subtle movement from the corner of your eye instead. Vi, who opted to lean against the wall just far enough to stay hidden from view while being within earshot, had the most shit-eating grin on her face. She slapped a hand over her face as she tried to stifle the silent giggles that shook her shoulders violently.

"...it's me you want," you catch Caitlyn say as Vi, as if on cue, finally steps into view. Leaning against the door frame with the same shit-eating grin as before.

"My hero~" Vi swoons playfully.

Caitlyn stutters and stammers, flustered and exasperated but relieved all the same. You would have found the banter between them funny, adorable even, except for the fact that your brain couldn't wrap around the fact that your sister...Vi!...had fallen in with a Piltie. And, to add salt to the wound, said blue-haired Piltie, also happened to be an enforcer! It left a funky aftertaste on your tongue just thinking about it.

"Vi says we can trust you," Ekko interjects, eyes hard and icy as he glares at the woman still seated on the floor.

"You get a pass back topside, that's it. Let's go,"

Ekko stands up from his spot on the door's edge and nods at you, then at Vi, before maneuvering between you and moving back towards the tree. You look towards Caitlyn, letting your eyes roam over her features. You study how her shoulders tensed, her breathing slowed, her eyes twitched, and even how her brows knitted in the middle of her forehead. No blatant deception...at least, not yet. With a huff, you turn to hobble after Ekko.

"Who are you!? " Caitlyn asks, her voice bouncing off the steel wall of the makeshift prison, vibrating and echoing.

You stop, slowly turning slightly. The sun shining against you, casting a shadow of your side profile on the floor, you say, almost in a whisper, "Ironic, isn't it? The same group your people have been hunting for for years now welcomes you into their hideout. You'd be black and blue if the other Firelights had their way. But you got to my sister first. Our leader trusts her more than you..."

Slowly, you shuffle your way toward Ekko, who waits with his hand outstretched, ready to catch you should your knee buckle and you stumble. You smile at him, gently...lovingly, sliding your own into his, letting him guide you to stand beside him. The two other girls moved slowly towards you. Vi kept pace with Caitlyn as she took in her surroundings with awe and wonder. It's not an unusual reaction, but one that is more than welcomed. Everyone who ever stepped foot in the hideout for the first time always had the same look of amazement plastered on their faces. And every time, it never failed to make you proud. Knowing that seven long years of pain, effort, and hard work had paid off with each "woah" that would leave their jaw-dropped mouths.

"It's beautiful..."

"If your people had their way, it'd be a pile of rubble and ash..." Ekko says bitterly.

Your hand gently squeezes his, trying to keep him calm, as the words falling from Caitlyn's lips fuel his anger. Tension begins to rise as he squares his shoulders in rage. But your touch does little to stifle Ekko's furry at Caitlyn's next words.

"That's not possible...you're wrong."

Ekko pulls away from you, marching towards the taller blue-haired woman before him. Ready to butt heads and let fists fly at the sheer bullshit of her words. You try to call his name, but it falls on deaf ears.

"You say that one more time..."

Heat builds as both sides stand their ground. Each glaring at the other before Vi finally steps in between them. Pushing the two a few spaces away from one another. Quickly, you take hold of Ekko by his elbow, pulling him closer towards you. Increasing the distance between the two hot heads. You'd rather avoid a full-on brawl if you can. Being on the ground doesn't allow easy access to a med kit from the infirmary on the third floor of the tree. Looking towards you, Vi sighs your name before turning to Ekko and doing the same. Calling his attention

"Guys...she believes in what she's saying, okay? She's not your enemy," Vi says defensively.

"Oh, yeah?" Ekko scoffs, "Then what's this?"

From the glass canister hanging on his waist by the sling over his shoulder, he pulled out a beautiful blue orb no bigger than the average marble. It was strange-looking, yet it felt ethereal. It glowed this beautiful hue of blue as streaks of glittering lights swirled within like a galaxy of stars. You've never seen the likes of it before, never even heard of it. And, judging by the expression on Ekko's face, neither has he. Shuffling closer, you press against his back as you peer over his shoulder with curious eyes. Watching, mesmerized as the orb shimmered where the sun's rays would refract from its smooth, round surface as Ekko rolled it between his gloved fingertips. However, you were roughly jostled out of your reverie as Ekko recoiled, almost accidentally elbowing you in the process, from something Caitly said that you failed to catch.

"What is it?" you and your sister ask in unison, albeit with varying tones and intentions. While yours was asked more out of curiosity, Vi was her usual aggressive self. Almost angrily demanding an explanation.

"It's a gemstone...it was stolen during the attack...by your sister," Caitlyn explains delicately. Quite hesitantly. An understandable approach, considering Vi's very pissed-off rebuke.

"You just forgot to mention that?!"

Jinx...

That was twice now that you've heard of her in one day. And from two separate people from two opposing ends. Something big had to be happening. You hadn't the slightest idea what, but with her, it could be anything. And anything with Jinx was always spelled with trouble...the messy kind of trouble.

"With this, someone with the right knowledge could build any hextech device," Caitlyn continues, "If the enforcers are becoming more aggressive...that's why,"

...hextech...

If this small stone is the key to building hextech, it may be your ticket to saving lives. Saving the hideout, the Lanes, Zaun! If Ekko could find a way to manipulate it, use it...

...we could beat Silco with this...

You thought to yourself...or at least...you thought that you did. Apparently not, though, as all faces turn to you. Ekko, especially, nodded in agreement. Apparently, you said that out loud and maybe a bit too loud.

"That won't solve things," Caitlyn replies to you somberly.

"That's easy for you to say..." You grumble, "You aren't the one with blood on your hands...watching it drip down your fingers as people you promised you'd save die all around you!"

"Look, it's wrong what's been done to you..." Caitlyn says, "You'd be within your rights to keep it. I couldn't blame you. But...if you do, this cycle of violence will never stop."

She speaks of "setting the record straight", Zaun needing "healing", and how she just so happens to have a friend on the council who would "listen". The same sob stories you'd heard before. The same exact words that people would throw around like a ball in a game of catch. Toying with you, who worked hard to make these words a reality. The only difference now was the leverage Ekko held in his fingertips. The gemstone...hextech...maybe...just maybe...they'll finally listen. They'll finally see reason, the truth, and put a stop to all the shit that Zaun and its people were left to deal with on their own. Beside you, you catch Ekko giving you a sideways glance. A familiar expression, one that you have come to know very well. He's made up his mind.

"One condition. I'm the one who gives it to them," He says resolutely.

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed chapter 2!!

@silas-222, @scarletrosesposts, @f1nnfyuu, @rinisfruity14, @vicurious28, @thebiggestsimpoutthere, @miharuki, @mirophobic, @sundaybossanova

[nvuy]

an ode to a nightingale — sunday

summary. you were never anything. sunday begs to differ, in his own twisted way.

notes. a thing i did as an experiment and also as a little gift to a special someone (you know who you are) because we both enjoy staring at this guy's face. he's a funky little dude and a massive green flag. 100%.

i redownloaded hsr and i’ve started penacony. i have no idea what’s going on. it’s probably because i’ve been stuck staring at dr ratio’s boob window the whole time. i’m like a toddler watching cocomelon. i cant look away.

warnings. mdni, for safety. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is a controlling dickhead, you’re an implied streetwalker, yandere themes, insulting, threatening, possessiveness, mentions of kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessiveness, lots of nice stuff like that. please let me know if i've missed anything!

“What do you want from me?”

You looked in the mirror as you spoke, and you saw some pathetic state of a person staring back at you. Behind the edges of the golden vanity was the outline of the filled bathtub with steam wafting from the surface.

And him.

You watched as he sank into the water with a satisfied gleam on his face.

You refused to linger on the scratch marks that left gorgeous red and white lines down his arms, and his chest, and his spine.

It smelled like coconut. Coconut and dusted sugar on creamy pastry. And the clogging smell of mascara.

It smudged down your cheeks, and your lips were ruined and swollen, and your skin was painted in purple bruises and teeth marks.

And you were sore. Every part of your body was aching.

Sunday was leaning against the edge of the tub, staring at you through his lashes. He always preferred his baths boiling, as if he wanted to melt his skin off. Usually, he’d bring a book with him and read it during his off time when given the chance.

He didn’t answer.

“You’ve changed,” he said instead. His voice echoed off of the white tiles in the bathroom.

“I look the same as the night you took me off the streets,” you murmured. “Like a whore.”

Sunday hummed. “Is that how you see yourself?” The wings extending from his ears dipped below the water for a moment. “A ‘whore?’”

You didn’t want to turn to face him.

It was difficult enough to hold his unwavering gaze in the mirror.

“You’re not denying it.”

“Because I think you look damaged.” He was honest this time, and there was bitterness swelling with his tone. He instinctively fluttered his feathers to dry them off.

“By your design.” You were speaking of how he made it his duty to ruin your skin with his teeth.

“What I’ve done to you is nothing. You had already ruined yourself by offering your body to those disgusting animals before I had ever even laid my eyes on you.” He waved his hand as if he meant no harm with his words. “I’ve merely saved you.”

Your jaw clenched.

He fluttered his lashes at you in the mirror and sighed.

What a pretty sight.

“‘Saved me?’” you repeated hoarsely. You tried not to claw at your skin in frustration. You willed yourself not to lunge at him and puncture his eyes from his skull. “Do me a favour and save me from your arrogance next. You’re deluded if you think trapping me in your bedroom is praiseworthy.”

He smiled.

“Think of it this way: a bird is much safer trapped in a cage than free to the winds.” The smell of coconut and sugared powder made your head spin. Of course, he would use the soaps and creams you wore when he first met you. The smell was engraved into his mind like a branding.

Although covered by a robe, you felt vulnerable. His gaze held strong. You weren’t sure if he was even blinking.

Sunday seemed too relaxed. Your freedom was a joke to him; what is freedom if you’re too busy giving your body to strangers? Did you want to go back to that life?

“You want me to get in the tub just so you can humiliate me,” you accused with a dangerous flash of your teeth.

You wanted to sound angry. You wanted to sound furious, but it was only a pitiful whimper of a phrase. You felt pathetically weak.

He was quick to answer, “I did not request your company.” He patted the book with golden edges that sat on a ledge of the bathtub. You didn’t want to ask of its contents. “You came here of your own fruition. You felt lonely.”

“You think you know everything about me.”

“But of course.” Sunday plucked the book from the ledge, careful not to wet the pages as he turned to the page he’d marked. “You are mine, after all.”

His tone was light. Confident.

Your face was burning. “Fuck you.”

Who even were you? Who were you next to him?

Nothing, was the appropriate answer. He insisted otherwise, though he’d never given you a definitive answer of what you were. He’d never explicitly stated you to be a whore, disobedient, disrespectful, too independent for your own good.

Everything you hated to hear about yourself, even if it was all true.

He’d only tut and usher you away with a wave of his hand.

You’re his, as well.

His teeth in your skin, his feathers tickling your neck, his wandering fingers that crept below your navel. He’s stained your skin with his. It’s hard to wash off—even harder when he shares the same soaps as you.

Perhaps he knows this, and that’s why he hopes you share a bath with him.

So you’re reminded that there’s a chain around your ankle.

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, y’know. You think you’re so high and mighty, and yet you’re naked and pining after some street whore. And then you insist that I belong to you, but also beg for me beneath your own sheets.” But that wasn’t true.

As soon as the words left your lips you screwed your eyes shut and you leaned over the vanity.

His smile only grew, and the tip of his tongue touched the sharp edge of his canines.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the marble countertop.

Here he was, vulnerable. Susceptible to a swift slice of a blade to his neck, to being held beneath the surface of the water until he stopped flailing.

And you’re still so afraid of him.

He reads you like the book in his hands.

Sunday cooed. “Just like water, you are destructible, easily poisoned, and ever changing. You are lost, entrapped within four walls, so desperate to escape, but you cannot think for yourself.”

You furrowed your brows.

He turned the page of his book. The water sloshed as his arms moved.

The smell of coconut was hurting your head.

“You speak in tongues because you’re scared of ruining your perfect image,” you said. “You’re just an insecure little boy who's stuck in a daydream.”

That forced his head to turn. He almost snapped his book shut. Instead, his fingers froze on the edges of the crisp paper.

Then, he let out a hearty laugh.

“Allow me to rephrase: your beauty is wicked. It is rotten, vile, and evil.” The sweet scent of sugar was a cruel joke. It juxtaposed everything that spilled from his filthy lips. “Your blood is muddied and ruined. You’ve allowed strangers to see your skin.

“You’re lucky I’ve tolerated your behaviour for this long. If you were anybody else, you would have lost your foul tongue after our first night together.”

The way he said it all made you feel so much smaller than you were.

You finally turned around to face him. The reflection in the mirror made the bathtub seem further away than it actually was.

The tub was in the centre of the room, craved meticulously from a blue crystal. To you, it closely resembled aquamarine. It was big enough to be considered a swimming pool if you removed the golden faucet, but you refrained from insulting his fussy craftsmanship and adding fuel to the fire.

Sunday was particular about everything; sizing, shapes, colours. Everything had to match, everything had to make sense, everything had to be perfect and presentable. Any faults or flaws were dealt with swiftly, whether that be a person or an object. You weren’t sure if you were considered one or the other.

Then came the specifics. A ledge for placing things, voids in the walls for storing soaps, adequate cupboards, flooring, walls, forms, everything.

Aeons forbid you dropped a glass and scratched the precious tiling.

And he was particular about you, though he never clearly stated what he wanted from you.

He wanted you. That was clear from how he would coax you to join him with gentle words and fleeting touches. How he would stain your skin and leave an imprint of your body on his bedsheets.

Anything other than that was muddled, muddied, lost in his own deluded mind.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him again.

Sunday fluttered his lashes at you. “Nothing at all.”

“Have you ever told the truth?”

You had instinctively drawn yourself closer to him. You leaned over the tub, fingers curled around the rim of crystal.

Sunday sighed. He looked sick, like delusion had twisted through his mind like poison ivy crawling along the walls of the gardens outside. “You are afraid of the truth.”

“You’re lying again.” He wasn’t lying, but you refused to make him feel as though he was in control.

That was he fed off.

Your fear, your touch, your taste, your words, every inch of your skin. His. All of it.

“I want everything,” he stated.

You wanted to break the tub and slit his throat with the shards of crystal.

“I want you to give yourself to me. All of yourself.”

How selfish of him.

He still views you as an offering.

You turned away and moved to storm out of the bathroom. You would wait until he was finished. You couldn’t be in the room with him.

The steam was burning your skin, and your scent on him was making your head feel like it was splitting apart.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look back.

You would have described his eyes as beautiful; golden irides with hints of plush velvet and a deep sapphire. But all he did was stare. He’d never look away, and he never wished to.

He saw things you did not.

“I want undying loyalty.” When you squirmed, he held your cheeks harder. “I want hopeless devotion. I want compassion. I want to see the silhouette of you in my bed first thing every morning.”

Your nails were frozen digging into his wrist, still wet and hot from the water.

He seemed as though he wished to say more, though refrained when he let go of your face. He’d abandoned his book now, his gaze remaining locked onto you.

Your cheeks stung from his fingerprints. You feared the patterns would be burned into your flesh.

“I want you to stop,” you whispered.

You knew what he was doing.

“Oh, I will.” This time, when his fingers raised for your face, he simply grazed them along your sore cheek. “Join me.”

You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t even move from your spot, frozen as if he’d drawn ice down your spine.

You breathed out. Your fingers were trembling.

“I’m not stupid,” you said. You were trying to convince yourself it was true.

Sunday only tilted his head. “No, you’re not stupid.”

He was already pulling the string of the bow around your waist. His wings bristled.

“I know what you’re doing,” you insisted, holding onto the fluffy material when he undid the knot holding the robe together. “I know what you’re doing.”

He smiled playfully. His hands pushed away the robe. “What am I doing?”

Your eyes welled with tears.

You don’t know what he’s doing. You are stupid.

You wished you’d never met him. You wished you’d never let soft hands and kind words and those pretty eyes of his draw you into his bed.

You shouldn’t have ever crawled back to him.

You let out a pathetic sob.

“Oh, you sweet thing.”

Sunday tutted pitifully and offered his hand.

Almost instinctively, as if it had been written in your blood since the moment you were born, you took it and leaned into his embrace.

His hair smelled of sugared tea. The feathers of his wings grazed over your face, now soaked with your tears.

He gently drew you into the water, murmuring something bordering on praise. You didn’t even hear what he said.

“I will make you all better.”

The water was hot. His lips on your cheek made you dizzy. The mirror had completely steamed up by now, and your chest pressed flush against his.

You tried to push him off you. You tried. You really did. You’d done this before, many times. Letting him break you down and watching as you lost control of your limbs and clawed at him until he held you.

He was good at that. Predicting. Letting things form the way they always did.

You were so angry. Angry at yourself, at him, at everything. Weakly, you curled your fists and hit his shoulders defeatedly. You heard him laugh.

All you did was betray yourself, surrendering and stilling as his cold hands dipped below the water.

“I will make you whole again.”

[writing-with-moss]

Saw your post, and thought: why not?

Ok ok, imagine reader is a sleeper, and they like to sleep in most mornings. But one day they decided to wake up in the devil hours of the day and bake apple pie, waking up the 141 and they're generally concerned about reader's sleep schedule and health lmao.

If you understand what I mean.

thank you anon! I really appreciate the ask. My inbox had been really funky these last few days so I'm sorry it took so long!

Poly!TF141 x F!reader

TW/CW- mentions of anxiety and pregnancy, reader wears glasses and is called American, but nothing more than pure fluff!

It was dark when your eyes fluttered open. The warmth of the bed almost pulls you back to sleep. But you manage to get your eyes to stop drooping, your body lazily rolling over and glancing up at the clock.

3:20 a.m

You groan, might as well get up and start the day. So you sit up and swing yourself off the warm covers, leaving your comfy safehaven to maneuver through the dark room. Your hip brushes against a bookshelf and your hands enclose around your pair of glasses.

Finally able to see, you stumble into the kitchen, stretching out with a hum of pleasure, shivers running your spine. The gentle lamp light of the kitchen and the rumble in your stomach kept your socked feet moving along.

You settle on a book, wide open to a certain page. Apple Pie. Warm saliva filled your mouth at the thought of what you had been craving for weeks now. It had been so intense your boyfriends thought you might've been pregnant.

You open up the cupboards and drag out a few bowls, cutting up a few apples.

You must've been too loud because you were halfway into pouring the filling when a large form fills the doorway.

"Wha' da 'ell ya doin' Bonnie?" A sleepy Scottish man grumbles, stumbling towards you in just his boxers. "Cant feckin' sleep with so much bloody ruckus-"

He pauses at your baking, raising a brow. You turn and give a weak smile. "Sorry....Didn't mean to."

"Wha' da 'ell are you makin'?" A rougher voice came from the doorway, a man in matching black sweats stood behind Soap, tilting his head to watch you work.

"Apple Pie." You curtly answered, smiling as you hummed along, popping the dish into the oven.

"Yer so feckin' American." Soap wraps his arms warmly around your waist as he pecks a few kisses to your jaw. His stubble brushing against your cheek, causing a giggle to bubble in your chest. Ghosts warm hand landing on the back of your head to scratch at your scalp before gently tugging at Soaps Mohawk.

Johnny sticks his tongue out at him, before smiling. Ghost responding roughly. "Yer hair makes ya look like a fecking rooster."

Before he could reply, another man walked in.

"American apple pie huh?" Price came in with an almost concerned expression, pouring a mug of steaming coffee. "Yer up early baby. Somethin' goin' on?"

You shake your head. "Don't think so. Just had some cravings and got up early." Soap buries his head a bit deeper into your shoulder as he chuckles.

"You sure you ain't pregnant?" You elbow his side and he laughs, pulling back with a grin. Hopping onto the counter.

"I am not!" Ghost side eyes you and you huff, laughing. "Trust me, I would know. I already took a test. I. Am. Not. Pregnant."

"What about pregnancy- Oh is that apple pie?" Gaz suddenly pops into the kitchen, scratching his chin. "You okay babe? You're up really early."

"Yeah, I just woke up weirdly early. I dunno."

Price tilts his head, wrapping his arm around Gaz' shoulder as they cuddle up. "You anxious?"

"Maybe? I think I'll be okay." You respond, sighing as you cross your arms over your chest. Ghost gently pulls you a bit closer, enveloping you in warmth.

"We're always here for ya. Our sweet girl." He pecks a firm kiss to your forehead and they all nod.

Soap grins slightly. "But are you sure you aren't?-" You throw your towel at him before he can finish.

(Hopefully this is good enough! Thanks for the ask Anon! Requests are open!)

[38riku]

𝐁𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐓.𝟐 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🎂 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

includes ace and deuce (i was gonna add more but i hate it when i have a lot of drafts) this is part two. you can read part one here

warnings // none.

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀

Hey, Prefect, guess what day it is. I'll have you know it isn't an unbirthday—it's MY birthday! Which means I'm the star of the day. Wonder what kinda fun things are in store.

to his surprise the two of you had a similar idea of fun. in hindsight it isn't that much of a shock. you guys are together 24/7! as a group, not one on one like now.

there's really nothing different about it.

sure, it's nice having your undivided attention without a pesky feline hogging it. plus he can actually hear your laugh when he jokes. was it always like that? a funky yet endearing sound? probably.

he's starting to notice things that he should've a long time ago and it makes him feel weird.

you're thoughtful, to the point it makes him wanna gag.

"this place better be good. it's my birthday after all so i'm head honcho!" he exclaimed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the booth you shared.

"cater recommended it. i asked him what place in town had the best burgers and viola." you were too busy looking over the menu to see his face, and thank the seven you were, otherwise, you would've notice him gaping like a fish.

"oh! and they serve cherry pie! you think it's as good as — what's wrong with your face?"

jaw on the floor.

he was positive he only mentioned his favorite foods once or twice, yet, you remembered it.

and for a second time, he brushed off the odd feeling bubbling in his chest.

the last time was hard to ignore. you sprung a gift on him last minute before entering campus. it was, ironically, a deck of cards.

"learn a new trick other than a basic sleight." you joked, nudging him slightly. "oh! and don't let riddle see these. all the aces are an ace of hearts." winking, you bid him one more 'happy birthday' before leaving.

they were just a deck of trick cards. it wasn't anything special.

so why was his heart racing?

𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐄

Do you have plans later? Actually, no, I should get straight to the point. We're celebrating my birthday at Heartslabyul today. Would you come to the party?

he did it! he asked you, personally.

it may not seem like a big deal but riddle threatened to off his head if he didn't stop pacing. apparently it's against the rules to have inner turmoil on your birthday.

ace asked him why he was nervous. 'it's the prefect, we hang out all the time!' and yes, why that might be true, deuce had never invited done something like that.

delinquents don't have many friends. let alone birthday parties.

"happy birthday deuce-y!" the nickname ricocheted off the walls as you successfully stole the spotlight. "sorry i'm late but riddle said i had to be properly dressed or whatever."

your rant went in one ear and out the other.

he's never seen you dressed up and wow, you cleaned up nicely.

was it shock? freezing up, cheeks flush, trouble speaking, sweaty palms — his symptoms all align with shock. that has to be it.

"thanks for still showing up." he spoke after regaining basic functions. it didn't last long because you hugged him. arms around torso, face to face, lasting more than three seconds hug.

friends hug all the time. he's shared a similar embrace with ace, albeit riddle forced them to, but this is was not like that.

"course I showed up! fancy clothes wasn't gonna stop me from celebrating one of my best friends." your smile reach ear to ear and he struggled to remember if it was always that bright and pretty.

"we both know you're more tenacious than that."

deuce now understands why he was nervous.

© 2024 — 38riku. Do not copy or repost or plagiarize my work. All Rights Reserved.

[wonysugar]

birthday party | annyeongz

synopsis : your favorite couple, yujin and wonyoung, come over and give you a personal birthday party.

this is for the beautiful woman that is ena, one of my bestest friends, happy birthday to @pupyuj<33 here’s your gift mwah eat well i hope you had a wonderful day today i love youuu

pairing : gp!yujin x wonyoung x birthdaygirl!reader

genre : smut!!

tags : it’s your birthday!! birthday sex, drunk sex, daddy kink, mommy kink, threesomes, blowjob, g!p yujin, clit play, dirty talk, yknow, that funky stuff, annyeongz are dating! they call you a whore, bitch in heat, all of that stuff yippeee

a/n : this is not proofread sorry if there are any spelling mistakes~~

warnings : none! :]

word count : 1.2k

dingg!

you excitedly jump upon hearing your doorbell and rush over to your front door to open it, immediately greeted by your two best friends, wonyoung and yujin, grinning widely. 

“happy birthday!” they yelled in unison as wonyoung went and hugged you, the both of them completely unaware of the fact that they’re still very much in the hallways of your apartment complex. you panicked, gently let go of wonyoung then dragged the couple into your home, quickly.

“not so loud???” you giggled, checking to see if any of your neighbors heard before closing the door instantly as your friends laughed with you, “but thank you so much guys, i’m so glad you could make it.” you smiled softly.

“of course y/n! how could we miss your birthday, c’mon now.” said yujin, settling the cake they bought you down on your living room table. wonyoung, as for her, she gently put down the huge bottle of alcohol on that same table. you stared at her in joking disbelief. in response, she guiltily smiled back at you.

“what? it’s your birthday, you havee to get wasted.” she tried justifying, but you saw past her tricks.

“oh be serious, you totally brought that just so you could get drunk out of your mind.” you responded, earning a joking eye roll from her, and a laugh from her girlfriend. 

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like getting drunk that night, though.

-

“ughh stop sulkinggg i already said that i was sorry. i’m sorry i forgot it y/nnn, i’ll bring you your gift tomorrow i promiseee. come on, how can i make it up to you??” affirmed a tipsy yujin as you narrowed your eyes at her, also very intoxicated. wonyoung, on her side of the table, was sat down just like all of you and was quiet as a mouse as she watched it all happen, clearly amused by the scene.

don’t be fooled, though, she was drunk too.

“hmmmm… only way i’d forgive you is… if you and your girl fucked me really well, to be honesttt.” is what unintentionally slipped out of your mouth. they were not lying when they said that the truth comes out when you’re not sober. yujin’s expression changed, her smile dropping by the millisecond.

shit.

shit?? yeah, you were drunk enough to let that happen, but you were also sober enough to grasp that saying that was not something you could just say.

“ahahah– sorry that was.. that was a bad joke-”

yujin laughed as she finally stood up from the ground, unzipping her jeans’ bracket– what the fuck. what the fuck was going on? was she actually gonna fuck you?? why the fuck was she hard??? already???? huh?????

whatever it was, wonyoung liked it, cause when you looked at her with a confused expression, she seemed even more amused now. 

“guess we gotta give the birthday girl what she wants, right?” 

no seriously what.

“wh– yujin, what are you doing–”

she approached you, then grabbed your jaw, her drunken gaze piercing through your, also very drunken, gaze,  “it’s daddy to you now, got it?”

okay. maybe you could get behind this. whatever was going on, you liked it more than you’d like to admit.

you nodded reluctantly. as soon as you did, she smirked and quickly took off her belt, her pants and pulled down her boxers right after, her hard cock springing out. dear god, was it girthy. would it be whorish to say that you drooled a tad bit at the sight? well, even if it was, it was the truth.

“take off your skirt and go sit on mommy’s lap.” she coldly ordered, throwing a glance watching you look up at her as she lightly stroked the whole length of her dick.

with how drunk you were, you tried connecting the dots. since she was daddy, you could only assume that the ‘mommy’ in question was her girlfriend; wonyoung. you looked back at the latter, she was smiling at you with hooded eyes, patting her lap, indicating for you to take a seat. you enthusiastically took off your skirt and crawled over to her, already getting used to the role of the whore they wanted you to be for them. 

once you got to wonyoung, her lips immediately met yours, the kiss hungry and passionate. she grabbed you and sat you down on her lap as she kept kissing you from behind, immediately feeling your slick coat on her thigh.

“so needy already, hm baby?” she asked you, moments before tossing aside your hair and planting wet kisses down your neck, earning eager nods and soft whimpers from you. “don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you, right my love?” she added, looking at yujin with lustful eyes. yujin only got closer to you and watched as you melted under her girlfriend’s touch. she was so turned on from the scene, staring back into wonyoung’s eyes like she wanted to eat her whole, and it showed. she eventually looked down at you, slapping her rock hard dick onto your face.

“come on, open your mouth, darling, she’s got a birthday gift for you, you’re not gonna reject it, right?” whispered softly wonyoung into your ear moments before nibbling on it, placing her hand and gently rubbing on your clothed cunt as encouragement.

immediately, you obeyed and took yujin all at once, looking up at her. she didn’t waste any time, either. she forcefully shoved her cock into you, her tip hitting the back of your throat as she grunted, earning multiple, and i mean multiple, gags from you. as for, wonyoung was still teasing your clit through your panties.

“oh you just love daddy’s cock, don’t you, princess?” she asked you, biting her bottom lip as she tried suppressing her low moans, watching you nod as you moaned shamelessly, mouth full, “look at you, sucking me off like a– mmh— fucking whore. tell me you like daddy’s dick, come onnn.. i wanna hear you say it.” she added.

“honey, her mouth is full of you, she can’t even respond to you.” responded your best friend for you, her hand already inside your panties, twirling and playing with your throbbing clit while her other hand was on your waist, helping you ride her thigh. 

“do you think the slut’s enjoying— fuckk– having her mouth used, baby?” she asked her girlfriend whilst caressing her soft hair.

“hmm.. she is really drenched, and she is grinding on my thigh like a bitch in heat, sooo… i think she does enjoy it. maybe she even wants you to fuck her throat rougher, don’t you think?”

you felt used, you felt good, you felt... theirs. it was like, at the end of the day, they were just a couple playing with you like a toy on the day of your birthday until you were driven to the edge, and you thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. yujin thrusted into your mouth, wonyoung rubbed your clit as you rode her thigh, and that was going on for a long, until yujin climaxed because, as embarrassing as it may be, feeling her warm load in your droop down your gullet turned you on so much that you just came at that moment.

and just when you thought it was over, wonyoung giggled in your ear,

“you don’t think it’s over already, right? this may be your birthday, but you don’t get to decide. mommy still hasn’t gotten to feel good.” she looked over to a smirking yujin, whose dick was already somewhat hard at the thought again.

oh lord. you were far from being done.

[kedsandtubesocks]

your king & lionheart

Pluto!Din Djarin x Proserpina!Reader x Marcus Acacius

summary: trouble grows & you’re in need of a personal guard, thankfully Rome’s grand general seems to be perfect - not just for you (but maybe for your husband as well)

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MDNI. MAJOR GLADIATOR 2 SPOILERS, Roman Mythology AU, bodyguard themes, light creative changes in the hades/persephone myth, possibly can be read as power dynamics (god/human relationships), bi!Din Djarin & bi!Marcus Acacius, protective!Din & protective!Acacius, everyone is love sick, hurt & comfort, brief scenes of violence/threat of it, spicy themes, smut (threesome, f!oral, slight cuck vibes, moment of cock worship & cum eating), hints of soft dom!Din & sub!Acacius, M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship, use of gendered language, no use of y/n

word count: 7k

a/n: I know…my first fic of 2025 & of course it’s a funky AU & poly fic lmao, thank you @perotovar for being my mythology babe and for the guidance ily erin, also shoutout to @pedgito & @hauntedhowlett for always letting me scream about my weird ass ideas & never judging me lol… and to you if you’re reading this - thanks for being here [divider credit to the ever talented @saradika-graphics]

You and your husband heard of the rumors surrounding the General who arrived into your realm.

You just never thought he would be this handsome.

General Marcus Acacius now kneels before you clad in his armor. The soldier keeps his head lowered. Strands of grey flow like rivers in his curls. You caught a glimpse of his hawkish beautiful nose, every bit stunning as your husband.

Though by his appearance General Acacius looks every bit older than you. The glorious passing of time has been kind to this man.

So many fallen soldiers just like him have passed through your gates, even some that have been slain by the Roman general himself.

But what makes this man so special, so different, is the kismet swirling around him.

He ignited a new shift among Rome, among the empire. All of your kind whisper curious about the shifting of tides. It felt as if the ground felt unsteady. It’s why you headed home to the underworld early this season.

“Your majesties.” The soldier exhales, understanding the gravity of this moment.

“General Acacius,” Din, your husband, the god of this realm, gleaming in his grand armor rises from his throne.

“You are here for a reason. Rise.” He announces.

Acacius does as told, rising from his knees, ever the noble soldier.

“I have a task for you,” Din begins.

Acacius would be assigned as your personal guard until Rome and cosmos settle.

“But you both are gods, why would you need me? A simple solider? A simple man?” Acacius now appears incredibly young, curious and confusion coloring his face.

As powerful as the gods are, they rely on the worship and prayer that give them their spirit. And with the unstable times arising in Rome, there was a fear of chaos sprouting.

Especially within the underworld, Tartarus’s flames flickered stronger, almost growing brighter. The fear of the danger and evil imprisoned breaking free worried both you and Din.

“I need you to protect my wife. ” Din declares, simple and firm.

General Acacius, if he agrees, will not be able to pass into the fields to fully rest. He will have to wait until his service finishes.

But Din adds how the reward will be grand.

Acacius blinks with a stunned opened jawed awe, seems to finally process the words.

Swallowing hard, the general nods then places his fist over his heart.

“I will serve you both.”

-

Lord Jupiter and the others call for Din more than ever. Rome’s shift of power and influence continues to steep into the world. The cosmos rock, an unsteady sea, and it feels as if something could spark at any moment.

It’s why you try even now to soak in peace. You’ve always enjoyed strolls around the edge of the rivers, among your most special places within the underworld.

Now you have company in stride beside you.

“I never expected the world of the dead would be beautiful.” Acacius admires.

Glee fills you watching Acacius wander in awe over all the sights - the stretched catacombs, the caverns of crystal, the endless rivers, and the small patch of greenery sprouting with the asphodel and pomegranate trees you’ve provided now as the queen of this realm.

General Acacius proves to be a keen mind, curious and eager to learn. He asks about the rivers, the stretches of land that blend into each other.

He reminds you of a new sprout that’s budded here among the charcoal sands and looks promising to grow.

You grin pleased, unable to contain it.

His face catches you and a flustered stammer falls over him. It paints the seasoned General beautifully boyish.

“Don’t mind me, your majesty. I must appear foolish taking this all in. It’s just the poets, the myths, they said this would be a joyless place.”

“I’m glad you get to see this world through new eyes. And you’re not foolish. I adore seeing your reactions.” You understood and tell him truthfully.

A beautiful twinkle returns to his wise older eyes.

After that the soldier becomes a cherished companion quickly, especially with Din still above ground.

Eventually you even bring Acacius to the edge of the realm, to the gates. Cerberus sensing your presence immediately shakes the land with his thunderous booms as he rushes to the gate.

All three heads excitedly press against the bars begging for attention. You laugh warmly trying to pet all three beasts best as you can.

“The hell hound guarding the gates.” Acacius mutters stunned, frightened almost, and when you glance back at him you’re surprised to see the general recoiled slightly.

He’s hesitant the way a smart soldier is sensing danger.

“Cerberus is just a big puppy.” You reassure, even turning to press a kiss to one of the big snouts.

“Says the goddess who commands him.” Acacius scoffs unconvinced.

That makes you laugh. With an eased nudge you urge the general to come forward. Seeming more curious now, he takes a few steps forward moving closer to you.

The guardian hound senses the new presence, smells the scent of a soul, and instantly growls menacing.

“Shh!” You chide the beast. “Come now. He’s a friend and protector of mine. Behave.”

The creature settles and soon enough, Acacius is at the gate by your side.

Gingerly, you raise your hand with his, guiding his larger more calloused warm hand. Then you rest it against one of the snouts of the beast.

The content grumble from the creature comes. A surprise laugh, a one bubbled up in pure surprise, escapes Acacius and it’s lovely.

He pets Cerberus in full earnest now especially with how quickly the beast jumps at the attention.

You’re reminded of yourself, the first time you took to the creature.

Yet, Acacius also reminds you of your sweet husband - a soft heart for a warrior bathed in blood.

When Din returns to his realm you wondered how the two would interact with such similar personalities.

You quickly discover they’re both similar in many ways. Both warriors are incredibly stalwart, steadfast, quiet at first, but ultimately quite tender hearted.

Your heart lifts at how immediately they bond.

Din too is a soldier, one who served during the ancient war with the old gods. At times he and Acacius seem like old veterans reminiscing of their days on the battlefield.

You’re just surprised it’s now spilled over into the courtyard.

Din, in your humble opinion, is a soldier comparable to that of Mars. He’s fluid, intelligent, capable of fighting with various forms of weapons.

But he’s met his match.

While Din trains with his spear, Acacius prefers the sword, and his proficiency in it is incredible. The blade and him dance together, keeping Din on his toes. They readily trade swipes and blows. You watch enraptured at the sight of these two powerful men fighting effortlessly with each other.

Hearing their grunts, watching their strong bodies maneuver, it all ignites a fierce dizzying passion licking flames through your body. Especially as Acacius manages to pin Din down. The older general kneeling above your husband is a sight

“Seems he’s bested you, oh terrifying ruler of the dead.” You tease, but it’s a faux cover for the burning heat in you.

Your husband, keen as ever, notices it.

Later in the sanctuary of your bed chamber, Din speaks on it first.

“You desire him.” Your husband murmurs.

Gently you glide over to your king, hand reaching up to his helm, the beautiful sleek enduring metal cool to the touch as you move to lift it.

No matter how many sun cycles pass you’ll never tire of seeing Din’s face after removing his sacred helmet.

His endless abyss eyes show no anger, if anything you spot a shimmering hesitation. For being the most terrifying dreary force of a god, Din can be quite shy at times.

“I have a feeling… you desire him as well.” You mutter as the realization solidifies in you, like pieces of a pattern suddenly collecting into place.

Why hadn’t you caught it sooner? The way Din’s helmet follows Acacius, how lively and bright his voice sounded earlier during the casual match…

Din’s eyes flicker to yours.

“Do you imagine him here? With us?” You ask delicately.

A lustful nebulous haze falls over Din’s face, clouding his eyes and making him inhale sharp.

It’s a collision of teeth, a bubbling lust swallowing you and your husband whole. After centuries together, there’s comfort and something beautifully raw about not needing to say a word. Instead - knowing the way you and him both grab at each other, the understanding lies there.

Thoughts of Acacius choke the air, an unseen fog. All the possibilities mix with Din’s touch and you get lost in the molten carnal cloud surrounding your bed chamber.

The next morning when you arrive at your garden your cheeks burn bright. You’re grateful Acacius is resting today.

So many orchids now sprout along the greenery.

“Haven’t seen these in bloom since we celebrated our reunion last moon cycle.” Din chuckles amused and you glare at your husband.

Orchids, in your mind, symbolize passion with their sexual design along with the delicate nature they take. Din’s gloved fingers tenderly caress your back.

Never in your many eons would you have ever believed both you and your husband would be yearning together over one sole soldier.

“You’re not jealous?” You softly ask under the shade of the array of orchids blooming among the dead.

“Are you?” Din recounters.

Truthful, you shake your head no.

“I was worried I would be and that you would be. But instead of jealousy it feels…it feels like…”

Like your heart has simply bloomed more petals, grown larger in its size. Your love has not dwindled or even waived for your husband. In fact it’s only deepened knowing you can be truthful and honest with Din.

It almost makes you giggle thinking both you and Din are here ogling after the same man like a couple of young sprouts.

You tell this all to Din who squeezes you in his arms tighter.

“You always know what to say, even know how I feel.” He admits.

“I suppose living with you for so long has its benefits.” You tease. You don’t even have to see his face to know he’s rolling his eyes under his helmet.

Now among the delicate orchids, your mind drifts to the soldier enjoying a day’s rest.

“Do you have a plan of attack, my queen?” Din rumbles as his helm covered face presses gently against you.

“Desire, matters of the heart, laugh at plans, my lord. You know that.” You tease squeezing his hand.

His dry chuckle is a precious reward.

Especially as your heart stumbles over a sobering truth.

Acacius could possibly not care to be desired by either you or Din.

You knew he was married. Acacius often speaks of his wife and how he hopes to visit her once he passes on from this realm into the restful fields.

“Once I pass on, I believe I will be at peace.” He nods dutifully by your side when you and him return to strolling among the rivers.

Those words cause you to pause for a moment.

“Are you not at peace now, General?” You ask curious.

“I am, my queen.” He rapidly replies fighting back a flash of panic that surged in his eyes.

You know Acacius met his fate by the hands of the precious emperors. He understands what trouble can emerge by upsetting a ruler, much less a goddess.

“Marcus,” you say his name for the first time, testing it on your tongue. You don’t miss the way his deep eyes widen.

“Please speak as freely as you want. I promise, no harm will come to you.” You vow placing a hand over your heart, the word of a ruler.

Now Acacius sighs standing among the arched hallways and columns of the underworld’s palace.

“I have found glimpses of peace here. But I know I still have much to atone for. The lives I’ve slain…I don’t deserve peace for the damage I've caused.”

Your heart suddenly collapses into your chest.

“You’re a good man, Marcus.” You tell him. “I promise your days of peace will come, and you’ll be surrounded by more love than you have ever known. It’s what a man like you deserves.”

Suddenly your hand is being lifted up, your eyes flicker to Acacius who bows his head in grace.

He raises his hand to your lips placing a polite kiss to the back of your hand.

“You are too gracious, your majesty.” Acacius mutters.

Then a skeletal guard arrives.

”Your majesty,” he interrupts with a cautious tone.

“What’s going on?” You ask.

“We are not sure…we are searching…trying to find the source.” His answer doesn’t settle any panic but instead doubles it.

Acacius shifts closer, and your eyes shoot towards him. He stands beside you the unmovable force of Rome’s sword, the heart of its military. His face is hardened, steady.

You call to him.

“Please, go with the guard. Discover what’s happening.” You urge soft.

“My lady,” he urges and the title now tugs at your heart. “I am vowed to be by your side. I need to be here, protecting you.”

“I can manage a few moments alone. I will feel safer knowing you’re out there searching.” You truthfully tell him.

Hesitation and conflict battle on the handsome older man’s face. Then with a nod Acacius follows the guards lead.

Now alone, you stay out in the open, wandering around until you find a place to sit and rest.

A strange chill crawls across your skin. The air feels different in the grand hallway. Something isn’t quite right.

“You truly are as beautiful as the myth says.” A new voice croaks.

Behind you stands a man, a stranger, specifically an unmarked shade. How had he wandered here? His eyes dance over you, curious but in a way that feels dangerous.

Especially while he moves closer to you with a hand outstretched.

Before you can say anything, a sword shines from the darkness of the hallway. Acacius emerges smoothly out from across you keeping his blade to the spirit’s throat.

“You dare touch her, and I will show you another death.” He mutters low, deadly and powerful.

The spirit with terror in his eyes does as told, returns to where he needs to be. But the dread remains even clutching onto the general’s arm.

The goddess of the crossroads, Trivia, among her magic and grandeur wearing the face of the crone, warns you to be careful. Acacius stays stitched to your side more than ever.

“The surface world, Rome particularly, continues to eat at itself like a chained animal.” Her voices, three as one, alluded to what you can even sense here.

It’s why your eyes can’t help but watch the flames of Tartarus. Instead of its steady small amber flame, it now seems to flicker rapidly, like a furious candle that wishes to spread its wildfire. Who knows what dread would come of the prison’s chains unleash.

Then, late in the night, alone in your bedchamber, a whisper wakes you with the soft call of your name.

Immediately you glance around your large empty bedroom with Din still above ground.

But from your open window, the flame of Tartarus spills over a glow that is not a warm amber but a blazing pure blood red.

Danger.

You hastily grab your cloak and rush out.

Your mind races and you have no time to think of anything else but getting to the prison. Acacius would not be able to step foot near this space so you do not even try searching for him.

The flaming river thrashes violently, like a flood about to spill over. It shakes the ground you stand on causing you to fall.

“Little goddess!” So many voices, tormented and distorted, screech. They cry out from the depths of the prison.

“The time of your rule is coming to an end….Feed us your blood!” They howl against the raging fire.

The rumble of the hydra follows. Its many heads still do not scream but as you glance past the gate that stands looming, the iron seems to rattle. The adamantine will not shatter you know this. But fear claws at your heart.

Beyond the gates sits the primordial darkness, teeming with the treat that it can swallow you whole. You swear someone, something, smiles something sinister from it, taunting you.

This is still your realm. You’re still queen of this world, born to be a part of the rebirth.

Fighting against the fear, you steady yourself.

Snapping your fingers, you smile wide and victorious to the darkness.

An anguished and sinister howl rattles the air causing the pathway to shift unstable. The river rages. Even the hydra rumbles more, with some of its heads peering awake. Whatever aches to leave will know a harsher pain for this transgression.

Then, someone simply lifts you up off the ground, as if you are a feather.

“My lady!” General Acacius screams and the roar of Cerberus can be heard faintly. Even with your eyes stinging from the heat, you catch how his body fades in and out as if transparent. He shouldn’t be here.

You whisper out his name while he rushes out of the prison with you in his arms.

On the floor of the palace exhaustion pummels your body, Acacius barks for healers.

“Are you hurt?” You ask him worried now and his face turns to you concerned. Soot and scratches cover his body. But you’re thankful he’s here still and not consumed by the prison’s void.

“No, dear lady, they are for you.”

Finally glance down, the sight frightens you.

The skin of your hands cracks, shed open, revealing the decay and cosmic abyss of the underworld’s power manifesting within you now. It spills from your skin, stinging. You had never tapped into your abilities this much…

Exhaustion swallows your vision immediately after. But before it does you swear you feel two sets of warm hands moving to steady you.

Two voices scream your name.

-

“I was scared I wouldn’t make it .” Din whispers, holding you in his arms. It feels as if you haven’t left them for days.

“I’m alright.” You reassure your husband, rubbing his warm sturdy chest. “Acacius saved me.”

He had… more than you realized.

Trivia, once she examined your wounds. With wide multiple eyes, revealed how it had been foolish to use your powers so close to the primordial prison, to the old gods and ancient ones. It was like trying to fight fire with fire.

“It amplified your abilities to a point of instability.” She explained. “Any moment there longer, who knows what could have happened to you.”

Marcus Acacius truly came like the guardian he is and saved you.

“He’s a spirit, how did he even manage to survive?” You ask, still stunned and impressed.

“He holds a strong heart and pure soul.” The goddess of magic answers.

“I owe him a great debt.” Din had said and you believe you did as well.

So you call Acacius to your side in your bedchamber.

His molten eyes hold a multitude of emotions. He does not conceal their shine.

“My queen, forgive me-” His voice cracks and you shake your head, interrupting him.

“No, I’m the one who needs your forgiveness.” You whisper.

You and Din cannot see him as a simple tool to keep at your aid.

General Acacius deserves to find peace, a life away from service and duty. The panic you had of knowing how close he was to Tartarus felt too much. Even when you told Din that he understood.

Your hand cups the general’s cheek. Shimmering gemstone eyes soften, and his mouth drops slightly agape.

Your thumb traces against the scruff of his beard.

“You really are a rare soul.” You tell him already detesting your voice for cracking under the weight of your emotions.

His larger hand rises up to rest on top of yours.

“Tell me, what is troubling you.” He urges, squeezing your hand.

You shake your head. You need not bother him anymore.

Closing your eyes to rest some more, you realize Acacius keeps your hand in his warm firm grasp the entire time.

More nights are spent in the comfort of bed rest.

Trivia once again visits, keeping you company, this time wearing the face of the maiden.

“It seems your two warriors are getting along quite well.” She comments casually, and you curiously sit up.

Your eyes narrow, curious and suspicious at her words. Her ancient eyes, all knowing, stay focused on her scroll.

“I’ve just… seen how close the two have become. I’ve heard that when they are not here with you, they rarely separate from each other.”

That releases a flutter into your chest.

With a kiss goodbye to Din who returns above ground with the goddess of the crossroads, Marcus Acacius is again by your side.

“I’m glad you and Din get along well.” You admit.

The small tug of a smile flickers across the General’s gorgeously aged face.

“The king of the underworld has become a fast… companion.”

You know he means the term towards friendship, but the greed in your heart gnaws thinking of them as something far richer in terms of companionship.

“He loves you.” Acacius adds through a thick voice. “You two love each other. I thought after all the stories I had heard…”

You knew what the stories painted you as, what it told of you and your husband. Even now your fingers seem to inch for pomegranate seeds.

“The myths sometimes get twisted and lost with the ages.” You truthfully tell Acacius.

“I understand now.” He mutters. “It’s a type of devotion some only believe exists in stories. But I’ve seen it… see it so clearly, even without having to see his face.”

Even though love surges every inch of your being, you find a sense of longing and ache tinge his voice.

“You miss your wife.” You state low.

The general sighs, his eyes hazing over.

“At times yes. But…” he pauses, gathering himself and you find his eyes still haven’t met yours.

“I knew our arrangement, our marriage, wasn’t her first. But I was glad to provide, grew to love her. And I like to believe she too loved me in a way. But then…”

Molten earth eyes finally flicker up to yours.

You wait, expecting him to continue. Instead the general’s eyes stay taking you in, like a hesitation stops from him speaking.

Realization settles in soft, effortless, a reminder that even though this man appears decades older than you and even Din, he is still such a young soul compared to you.

He’s jealous.

Jealous of the relationship you and Din have.

Sympathy rises fast. You do understand, truly.

“I haven’t seen Din bind himself to someone as fast as he has with you.” You suddenly speak first.

“It almost has me a bit jealous.” You add lightly teasing. Fright flashes across the general’s face and you quickly grab his hand to hold.

“But I’m not.” Truth hums in you, you hear it in your voice.

“It’s a blessing to find another companion, one that he and I both deeply adore. Makes me grateful to know we haven’t become stagnant in our time down here.” You admit with a soft self deprecating grin.

“It will be hard to see you pass on from our halls.” That truth manages to slip past you.

Acacius squeezes your hand.

“My lady…” the exhale he breathes sounds uncertain, heartbreakingly vulnerable.

This time you raise his hand to your lips, pressing a grateful kiss to his palm in reverence at the man who’s brought new light into your realm.

Something shifts after that, a planetary orbit falling into place.

When you’re finally allowed to return to your garden, both your king and general stay firmly beside you.

Peace and tranquility mix within the air and you're grateful to finally be among your elements. The red roses, which you greatly liken to Din, now have new companions of their own.

White rose buds slowly make their way through the greenery, sprouting steady and true.

A disbelieved laugh almost escapes you.

If Din is your red rose, your heart sees Acacius as a white one.

Suddenly a guard humbly interrupts the gathering, announcing the lord of the palace is needed.

Din sighs, weary and exhausted, as he rises to leave. Before he does, the god of the dead rests his forehead against yours, a type of kiss you’ve recognized for eons.

And then, Din’s gloved finger tips gingerly trace along the general’s jaw.

You’re surprised at such a casual show of affection and even poor Acacius sits stunned. Din, who luckily had his face hidden under the helm, now takes his leave.

Acacius sitting a bit stunned flickers his shocked eyes to you.

“Sweet surprise suits you well, General.” You tease.

Now a rather grumpy hardened look of a soldier falls over his face, and laughter overtakes you at his reaction.

But the joy extinguishes quickly. Din returns back to the garden, this time with more guards accompanying him.

From the tense stillness of his shoulders, the way his helmet stares unflinching at you, worry settles into your heart immediately.

-

Marcus Acacius is a man battle tested. He believes in the law, in the rational of the mind. He favored the tangible over the thought of mythical gods. Yet now that he lives among their realm, walks beside them, Marcus feels more human than ever.

He had witnessed the sight of the rulers of the dead when he first arrived.

But now he watches with new eyes.

He drinks you in.

The legends speaking of your beauty are true. You sit on the throne beside your husband the picture of a composed queen, a goddess created of both life and death.

And then your husband, clad in the sacred steel of the underworld and the unflinching helmet he wore - the two of you were a marvel of a pair.

Acacius feels out of place, a simple observer and passerby.

Then his soul leaves his body when the guards bring in the soul in question for judgment.

Emperor Geta, the watchful creature he is, whips his head all around with a grimace on his face. Then the young emperor’s eyes spot him and Acacius stiffens.

“You.” He sneers. “What are you doing here? How are you here?”

Geta then snaps his attention to the two rulers. “He is but a simple soldier! I am the ruler of Rome, the vessel for the gods. Why is he not the one on trial?”

“When you die, you are but a simple man. And you will be judged as such.” Lord Din says simply, unmoved by the frustrated loud tone of emperor Geta.

“Because you were being unreasonable with the judges, now you stand before us.” You further explain.

Geta, like a petulant child, continues to demand and scream.

“You act so high and mighty for a man brought down by his brother.” That’s when you step in again, a softer reply cutting sharp through Geta’s voice.

Acacius wonders if a mythical lust driven creature has crawled under his skin. Because witnessing you, in the most luminous crown, sitting unbothered as you stare down the once emperors, you’re truly the goddess he wishes to sink to his knees for.

Geta narrows his eyes, a defiant act of a man raised to rule Rome and never accept any opposition from anyone.

Not even a god.

“You two,” he spits.

“Locked away in this dreary world of death. Neither of you know anything! You do not know the trials and tribulations I have faced! I am Rome! Rome is me! I understand it better than anyone!” He screams now.

Thorny vines sprout out from the marble floors wrapping around Geta and drag him to the floor onto his knees.

Acacius quickly finds your hand outstretched while you stare down at the emperor. Din walks down from his throne, staff in hand, and points it to Geta’s throat.

“You will be wise to remember who you speak to, boy.”

You and Din speak together, one unified front, and the general of Rome thinks never in his life has he ever gotten so aroused so fast in his life.

Geta fidgets against the thorns, defiant even in this forced submission.

The young emperor’s eyes flash to Acacius.

“This is your fault!” He screeches wild and frothing, eyes absolutely feral. “Acacius! I damn you! I damn your soul! You are to blame!”

Guilt, like a bull, barrels into him. Acacius knows these words are just the ragging of a foolish man, but Marcus only thinks of the chaos born because of him.

The countless soldiers he’s lost, the endless villages destroyed by his hand…

There’s blood unwashable and stained into his very hands. Even his final moments of trying to save Rome, to do something other than conquer and destroy…

Marcus brought bedlam.

“You’re nothing compared to that man.” The god of the underworld snarls, breaking through the sinking guilt. It ushers in a wave fondness that cuts through Acacius.

“You were once such a brave, good hearted young man. Cared so deeply for your brother. But corruption has poisoned your heart, Geta.” Your voice is hardened with a wise unflinching observation.

A reminder to him that you’re truly a being born from the stars themselves.

“You lived a decadent life while others suffered. Their suffering is finally here to greet you.” Din announces.

The thorns wither away from Geta and before he can react, two skeletal guards emerge, yanking the young emperor away.

To no one’s shock, he screams raging the entire time refusing to go down without a fight.

“Acacius!” The still screams. “This is your fault! You deserve death! A fate even worse than that! I damn you! Curse your soul!”

Geta’s screeches bounce off the walls, lingering long after he’s vanished.

Acacius feels his vision go hazy, fighting so many emotions that cloud him. Then hands steady him, pulling Marcus from his thoughts.

Both you and King Din surrounded him, concerned and close.

“Are you alright?” The king asks.

Acacius stays quiet.

“That childish fool, don’t listen to him.” You urge.

“Geta is right.” Marcus mutters.

He’s been the source of unspeakable damage, causing countless waves of pain. The lord and lady of the underworld deserve someone more honorable -

“You’re honorable.” You immediately cut him off, determined and unwavering.

Not realizing he spoke those thoughts aloud, embarrassment rises to his cheeks feeling rather young and foolish among these two.

“There was a reason why you were chosen.” The king adds soft. “And we would make that choice again.”

Acacius knows it’s strange but not uncommon to desire two people at once. He knew of a fellow commander who swore he loved both his wife and a fellow soldier equally. It is possible. The heart is a strange weapon after all.

Marcus just never thought his heart would be entangled in such a web.

But when his eyes finally glance to yours, he stills. He adores your eyes, always so expressive with waves of emotion.

That’s when he catches your gaze flicker down to his lips, the most subtle action reawakening a raw hunger in his chest.

He leans in, until truth freezes him solid.

You’re married. You’re a queen and goddess of this land.

He can never…

Immediately Marcus draws his face away, ready to flee from this warmth surrounding him. Until the king shifts to press against him firmer.

“Do you wish to keep your queen waiting?” The king’s voice, even speaking through the helmet, is a low deep purr, sending a chill up Acscius’s spine.

“Din.” You quickly chide, panicked under your breath. “Don’t pressure him. If Acacius doesn’t want this-”

Marcus doesn’t need to hear another word, won’t let his thoughts hold him back. He reacts like a soldier, moving into the battlefield possessed by this goddess, by you.

So he takes and plunders.

Your lips are soft, unbelievably sweet, the true taste of ambrosia Acacius might not ever return back from.

Especially when you whine into his lips as your hands run into his curls.

Acacius drowns in you. But when he returns for air, he realizes there’s another present, another he maybe even longs to kiss, to know his face.

The god of the dead stands close, moves to slide his own hand across Marcus’s cheek and the General closes his eyes when he feels the press of cold metal against his forehead.

It feels as if they floated to the bedchamber.

“Lay her on the bed.” The king commands effortlessly.

Watching the god slink to sit on the plush chair in the room, spreading his legs open wide, is erotic, more than Acacius could have ever expected.

Din commands him, soft but firm, on how to tease and taste you.

Acacius finds having a powerful god, the striking king of this world, take command, affects him greatly. Letting himself go, not having to think or worry, has Marcus rutting his hips into the bed, drunk on both rulers who seem to engulf him.

When you come on his tongue, fingers gripping into his hair, Marcus wonders if this is what the nectar of the gods must taste like, what a blessing this is.

You draw his face up to you, messily kissing and licking into his mouth.

As you start kissing down his neck, Acacius looks over to Din in his chair. The general almost comes seeing the king stroking his cock.

“We shouldn’t neglect our king.” Your breath tickles Marcus’s neck as you whisper and nip at his skin. A blazing heat grows hotter within Acacius.

But then, with one final kiss to his shoulder, your warmth leaves slinking off the plush bed.

Quickly you make work of undressing Din and Acacius again feels as if he’s intruding again even with how painful his cock feels watching you, bare and naked, against the fully armored ruler.

“I can do the rest.” Din replies through a hoarse voice stopping you.

With an understanding nod you return back to Marcus and his eyes watch you drop to your knees, immediately kissing up his thighs.

He’s so close, torn between release and wanting this to last. Until you rise up to his face again, placing the softest kiss to his lips.

“Do you trust us, my general?” You ask softly as his hinds run up and down your soft skin.

“Yes,” Marcus exhales. nodding wanting to hear you call him that for as long as you can.

Someone snaps their fingers. The candle light goes out and Acacius is thrown into a pit of pure desire.

Solid larger and firmer hand grabs at his face clashing their lips into his fiercely.

Din. Acacius is kissing the king.

The lord of the underworld kisses without hesitation, a man unchained. Yet Marcus discovers Din whispers gentle and follows his lead, such a beautiful flip of the once powerful commanding force now chasing after his lips.

An intoxicated sense of power surges in Acacius, a type of possessiveness he feels when conquering a battle. His hands map out the king’s face and he’s glorious.

Marcus has never felt more desired, more wanton, then right now. Being plunged into the dark, relying simply on his instincts, beautifully heightens the passion he’s in.

It’s a clumsy scramble, Din falling onto the mattress and Marcus slotting against him above.

You lick up his back as Marcus grinds his cock against your husband’s. Acacius knows he will not last long. For a man his age, he’s even surprised he’s held off this long.

“Let go for us, Marcus.” You coo, almost begging and he’s groaning out painful and loud.

Din moans, drunk and pleased as his hands grip tight into Marcus’s thighs.

Acacius cums harder than he ever has in his life. His vision goes white, and his body melts into a blur until your warm arms steady him in your embrace.

Marcus even thinks he’s never spilled this much before. Embarrassment clogs his throat as he feels the cum leak across his thighs and even pooling onto Din.

Among the embarrassment, a heavy exhaustion creeps into him. Until Acacius feels the warmth of your body leaving him.

The bed shifts suddenly, and your tongue licks across his cock and Din’s. Feeling your tongue wet and slick on his cock makes his eyes roll back. Both him and Din groan when the slurping sounds fill the room and Acacius realizes you’re trying to consume their seed, lick up as much as you can.

It’s like a storm sent from Jupiter himself galvanizes Acacius. His soul comes alive more than ever and he lets the darkness drenched ecstasy swallow him happily.

-

“You know his time here is limited.” Din mutters.

Acacius protectively rests between you and Din, tangled warm and sound asleep.

The underworld’s gemstones soft glows shimmer into the room, the underworld's own stars embedded in the darkness, illuminating the room. You’re able to soak in the sight of his glorious man alongside your gorgeous husband.

You understand the gravity of Din’s words.

Marcus deserves the peace he seeks, the freedom and rank to go anywhere he pleases. When the general passes on to the fields where souls go to rest, you know he will never be able to return to the palace.

So your mind wanders, trying to accept this time with Acacius simply might be like a shooting star, brilliant and bright but short.

You suppose that’s what makes human souls so precious.

In the warmth of the baths, resting within Acacius’s arms you try to return to the bliss here to keep away the dread.

The chaos within Rome is settling, even Tartarus now burns a soft faint candle. You know what this means. Marcus and his protection might not be needed anymore.

Your general in recent days has stayed rather quiet, closed and reserved. His fingers endlessly and thoughtlessly run up and down your arm resting on the edge of the bath.

“Something bothering you, Marcus?” You ask hesitantly shifting in his arms.

Expecting to turn to look at him, Acacius instead draws his arms around you, firmly securing you into his embrace. He rests his head against your shoulder.

Acacius exhales, sounding as ancient and weary as your husband does at times.

“It feels as if I’m being torn apart.” The general suddenly sighs again into your skin. “Stuck between two worlds.”

A moment passes.

“How do you do it? Decide between two worlds?”

You’re a bit curious at his question, almost don’t understand at once but the truth settles in smoothly.

How can you pick between the world above and below.

“I don’t need to.” You softly tell him, rubbing your hand against his arm.

That’s when the solution arrives.

Marcus does not need to decide either.

When you relay your epiphany to Din, even under the helmet you know he is beaming, you hear it in his words.

“This is why you’re the wisest, my queen.”

You scoff playful but laugh when Din squeezes you into his arms.

The solution you’ve thought of course brings a wave of buoyancy and glimmering hope. But you and Din understand the choice that lies ahead.

Acacius might decide to pass on. It will be hard to let him go but you and Din will of course support that choice.

The bowl in your hand is familiar. The pomegranate seeds glisten in their bright ruby color. They might be a little too on the nose but they were in season, and they’ve become your favorite.

Acacius, ever the aware soldier, understands something is afoot when you and Din arrive to sit with him in the bedchamber.

“As promised, you’ll be paid handsomely for your service.” Din begins.

“Oh.” Acacius’ face falls. Immediately you sense the shift in him.

“We know how much you long for peace, to rest.” You suddenly jump to reach to lay a hand on top of his.

“We simply just want you to know the choice is yours.” Din adds quietly.

Now the handsome scruffed up confused look colors the older distinguished general.

You set the bowl that was on your lap onto the table and lightly push it towards Marcus. His brows furrow harder, more inquisitive.

“Your reward.” Din explains.

To eat from the food of the underworld binds oneself to this realm.

It means he didn’t have to pick. He could travel between the fields and palace whenever he pleases.

“You can visit your loved ones all you’d like, and maybe think of us from time to time.” You grin soft. “Marcus, you deserve to have everything you want.”

His beautiful gem eyes, dark as a precious stone, flicker between you and Din, as if waiting for a trick to follow your words.

No tricks.

Only the reward he deserves.

“I…don’t believe I do. This is too great a treasure.” He shakes his head.

“You have proven yourself.” Din replies steady. “The gods do not bless those who they do not deem worthy.”

With a final look between you and your husband, a brief pause falls over Acacius.

Fear and a gloom filled sadness creep in when Marcus does not make a move for the bowl.

Instead, General Acacius scoops up a handful of pomegranate seeds and devours them.

The ruby red color has never looked so glorious staining his fingertips, never tasted sweeter than on his lips and on your husband’s.

Later when you visit your garden, floating on a beautiful tranquility, red and white roses greet you in full bloomed grandeur.

Among them, new buds sprout…

Beautiful pink rose buds, a soft blush shade, the perfect united bled and reminder of the rosy days to come.

[luvologyy]

Hmm…. How do you think the tuplar crew would react to their long-haired s/o suddenly showing up to their house, one day , with short hair 🤔

(Bonus points if the s/o acts all nonchalant about it too 🤭)

I love this anon, especially bc I cut my hair a couple of months ago, and it's growing back long, lol

⋆.˚ ★— luscious locks

Anya, daisuke, curly, swansea, Jimmy x reader

no specific detail about readers' hair type! It can be any to your liking (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) + different hair headcanons too ig reader acts all nonchalant lmaoo

Takes place on earth! Enjoy ୨ৎ

Anya

★ when anya opened her door and saw you with your long hair so much shorter than before, her jaw was DROPPED.

★ she couldn't form words, she wasn't weirded out by your new hair, it was just a surprised to her, so unexpected yk yk??

★ even though she was sad to see your long hair gone, she supports anything you choose to do with your hair.

★ overall, she asks questions about you cutting your hair, asking, "What made you cut it?" Or "did you cut it yourself?" Just curious about your hair journey ykk

★ she loves playing with your hair, with your permission ofc. It doesn't matter if you got short or long, she loves itt

★ she always loved styling your hair, too! Like tying it up in buns or ponytails. Even though your hair is shorter and harder to style, it doesn't stop anya.

Daisuke

★ daisuke wasn't expecting anyone to show up at his house, but there you are! But when he saw you, bro was DEVESTATED..

★ he loved your long hair and how soft it was.. but now IT WAS SHORT. HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A THINGG!? Daisuke thought.

"Y/N.." daisuke said, his jaw literally dropped

"What? What's wrong?"

"YOUR HAIR!!" He yelled, pointing towards your hair.

★ will not stop bugging you about your hair, poking your head when he's with you, and sadly running his fingers through your short hair.

★ ofc, he doesn't actually hate it. It just sucks that he's not the only one with shortish hair now.

★ he'll like it if you dye your hair different colors!

★ like he doesn't care if you cutted your hair or not, he'll love it if you have colorful hair.

★ every time he'll pass by you, he'll scruff up your short hair with his hand, just to annoy you.. yk how daisuke is

Curly

★ He's really surprised, but happy to see your new hair !

★ he loves your new hair, yeah.. he did live your longer hair, but he loves it short, too.

★ he supports any choices you do with your hair, just like anya.

★ if it's cutting your hair, styling it in funky ways, dying your hair? He'll help you! He's the most supportive guy you'll know.

★ he can't help but be surprised and laugh from seeing your new hair, not making fun of it, just out of shock and a mix of happiness, yk??

★ curly will rain you with compliments.. NONSTOP. telling you how pretty your hair is and how soft it is, and how it suits you a lot.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n!" Curly laughed out when he saw you

"What, what's wrong?" You said blankly

"Your hair!"

"You like it?"

"Yeah, it looks nice on you."

★ he can't help but stare at your new hair, just admiring your new hair.

Swansea

★ as soon as he cracked open the door, he swore you almost gave him a heart ATTACKK!

★ He's absolutely disappointed in you. He'll just stand there in denial..

"What the fuck is this?.."

"What's wrong, swansea??"

"ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHAT'S WRONG??"

★ one of his favorite things about you will always be your hair. But now, since it's not long like how he likes, he's DEVESTASTED

★ will lecture and scold you like an old man, telling you dumb stuff about you cutting your hair.

★ will not stop bugging you about you cutting your hair. He'll BE ALL ON YOU, reminding of your old long hair and how much he loved it. He'll be so extra with it, girll..

★ doesn't understand why you would cut it. He thought your long hair was perfect.

★ he definitely has to get used to your new hair. He just hopes your hair will grow back longer (not knowing you'll prolly cut it again lol.)

★ he does learn to like it, but he'll always prefer your long hair. he's just a little hater..

★ will lecture you NONSTOPP like your his child (you being a grown ass adult too💀) knowing damn well he's not your dad. (Love a father figure)

Jimmy

★ He's in disbelief, never thought you'd cut your AMAZING LUSCIOUS HAIR.

★ the whole day you're with him, he will give you stink eye..

★ will give you silent treatment. He's THAT petty. He's that mad at you just because you cutted your long hair.

★ he'll eventually give up and will talk to you after trying to give you silent treatment. But he's still disappointed in you for cutting your hair.

★ just like Swansea, he'll definitely have to get used to your new hair.

★ he'll just stare at you, looking at your new hair with the biggest frown on his face.

★ calm down, he doesn't actually hate your short hair (that much..) he just acts petty and extra.

I'm not surprised if this flops THIS IS SOO LAZYYY

[colourstreakgryffin]

Had a funky idea.. what about a Charlie x Pinkie Pie like! Reader? :)

Haha! Awwww! This is my first time ever trying out Charlie! For real, Charlie would absolutely love Pinkie Pie and we know it! I wanted to do romantic but for some reason, I can’t really get anything out unlike what I wanted so sorry, this is solely platonic!

Charlotte Morningstar- Balloon Soul

Charlie is a sweetheart. She loves the concepts of positivity, sunshine, rainbows and cupcakes. Anything good has her one hundred percent attention. So when she meets you, the embodiment of joy! She automatically befriends you and learns about you

She doesn’t understand how you are a Sinner. You’re beaming with hyperactivity and happiness. Yet, here you are. Instead of being a client, she hires you to work at her Hotel since you’re simply perfect at spreading redemption with your good-hearted energetic character

Charlie will happily attend any party you throw; outside of the Hotel or inside the Hotel. She also relies on you to be the general activity planner since you’re really creative and quite capable of organisation. Even better than her girlfriend, Vaggie. You become a valuable member in no time!

Charlie also enjoys telling you her favourite sweet flavours because you’ll come in with cupcakes or a big cake, all for her! The fact you remember absolutely everything about her makes her heart flutter. She adores you, you’re basically another version of her… just a bit more talkative, jokey and loud but the personality you two share is why she likes you so much, you bond so well with people

Charlie is so close to you, you’re basically her right hand lady, that her girlfriend, Vaggie, gets jealous of you and she has to clear it up with Vaggie to ensure nothing goes back inbetween her best friend and her love

Charlie really appreciates how much of a sweetheart you are as well. You’re a very good friend, warm-hearted and sympathetic whilst working hard to make people smile so when she feels down, you’d make sure she is laughing and smiling again in no time. She loves this

Charlie is the first one there and the last one out of anything you arrange; farewell party, we succeeded party, birthday party, couple anniversary party, we redeemed sinners party! Anything, she’s dolling herself up to get your approval and she adores how cute your party-accessorised ball gown is

Charlie actually turns to you for emotional support. Believe it or not. You may be hyper and childish but you’re actually really emotionally well-adjusted and with your backstory of being a dull, miserable child that found happiness through colour. She looks to you for advice when she needs it inside a sad dark place

Charlie also leans on you heavily, you’re her right hand and she knows you won’t mock her in any fashion. Suspect her to rant to you about her problems with her relationship with Vaggie(rest easy Alastor) and there is very little times that she doesn’t take what you offer her

Charlie likes your hair… it makes no sense but she loves brushing and tying it up for you. It’s a big bubbly mess but it’s a beautiful bubbly mess. You two can trade doing hairstyles together early in the morning and it’s precious. Charlie feels more pretty when her best friend and her girlfriend say she is

Charlie is quite good at handling how talkative and upbeat you are. You talk as much as she does and therefore, she is really the only person in the Hotel that can tolerate how much of a high-spirit chatterbox you are. She enjoys it since you act like she is your younger sister, she is fine with you always chatting

Charlie likes how cute your Hellborn alligator friend is, Gummy. It’s a adorable fang-less baby alligator that is clamped on your hair and she’ll happily help you care for him when you can’t and she is getting use to the feeling of a small Hellborn alligator clung onto her ponytail by his tough gummy jaws… it’s not as uncomfortable as she thought

“Leitora! Leitora! Here! Here! Look at this balloon animal I made! It’s just like the one you made for me! Do you think Vaggie would like it? Do you like it? I like it! Are you proud of it?”

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT - 24 Months

Well, these past couple months have been hell, with a light at the end of the tunnel that I’ve now reached, but still. Anyway, on with the show…

So, before I get into the really gritty stuff, my jaw and teeth were converted pretty early on, as well as my ear bones. The former were a little funky, but honestly nothing really changed there, since I already don’t need to chew things, losing my teeth was no big deal, and for the latter, there was a small blip in my hearing - for a few minutes - but then it came back, honestly better than before. I wasn’t super worried about the hearing loss, particularly after eyes taste and smell, only how long I'd be deaf for, but fortunately, as I said, it really wasn't a problem. I’m pretty sure that my slime has just replaced my inner ear’s function innately, and since hearing is just interpreted vibrations, and slime is pretty good at vibrating. What was and has been nice is the cat ears I made a few months back can now actually function, which took a little getting used to, but my hearing is super good now, if a little overwhelming at times.

Right, on to the less pleasant parts: Remember how in the last update I said that apparently you know when your brain goes, yeah, that’s true, and it’s ‘cause it’s genuinely the most painful, disorienting, and scary thing I have ever experienced. First of all, unlike a lot of other changes, it kinda just goes all at once - I think it’s a survival thing, the brain/core wouldn’t function while being half transformed, and it’d probably kill you if they tried to. Only issue is that this means that your brain basically dissolves over the course of a few hours, which is excruciating, and the weeks leading up to that absolutely suck as well.

The first thing I noticed was the pain - headaches, some of the worst I’ve ever had (which I know I’ve said a lot over the course of this, but I was fortunate before to have very little issues, and turns out transforming your whole body hurts). I tried to take some painkillers to help, but they don’t seem to work any more - not sure if it’s ‘cause my biology is so different now, or ‘cause my body breaks them down too well, but either way they don’t work, so I had to suffer through the pain.

Either on top of or because of the pain, I've had a general sense of disorientation. It started off as just sometimes getting a little turned around in games and the like, but it progressed to getting lost if I tried to go anywhere (which was compounded by some other stuff too). Frankly it's a good thing in the final days before my brain changed that I hurt too much to go anywhere, else I probably would have ended up somewhere entirely unknown at a really vulnerable stage in my transformation.

I also have had some memory issues while things have worked things out. My memory has never been amazing in the first place, but I started to get very forgetful, forgetting appointments, plans, even eating (I'd usually ‘remember’ when I started idly eating random things I had around, which has meant I've lost a few things, but I don't remember what so I'm keep finding things I need to replace). I’m also pretty sure I lost some older memories too, but it’s really hard to tell if that’s from normal forgetting or forgetting ‘cause my brain was becoming mush, it’s kinda scary not knowing. This is also part of what compounded my disorientation - when telling left from right is getting hard, forgetting where you're even meant to go or have come from only makes things worse. Also, try reforming yourself from a puddle when you barely remember what you were before… definitely had some interesting shapes recently. Honestly, it was terrifying, I actually didn't know if I'd ever be able to remember things again (obviously I can, but I didn't know that at the time, and my memory of that period are sketchy at best)

Of course, the pain I mentioned earlier made it hard to focus on things, but even beyond that my ability to focus seemed to vanish. I have been so easily distracted over the past couple of months. Genuinely a glint of light or something could completely draw my attention from whatever I was doing, and then I'd usually completely forget what I was doing, get distracted by something else and wonder off. I apparently walked off in the middle of so many games and videos and just any activity I was doing. Frankly it's a miracle that I have any notes, or remember enough to actually write this entry, I kinda spent most of this last month piecing together what I do remember and have notes of (the notes are not the most legible, worse than my normal handwriting which is awful anyways (there's a reason I type these updates)). 

On top of all this, I also had nightmares and hallucinations. The former sucked, but honestly asides from waking up in some weird shapes in attempts to either fight or defend myself from whatever was jumping me in the nightmare (assuming it was a monster one) they were over once I woke up. The hallucinations were worse, since they could appear at any time, and oh boy do they seem real. Sometimes they were small things, noises, or a shape in my periphery. Other times they were blurry, intimidating figures in the distance. And of course with my inability to focus on things, these hallucinations would only be another thing to distract my addled brain. The worst though, was waking up from a nightmare, a puddle unable to reform, and the nightmare continuing as a hallucination in the real world. That'd usually shake me up for a day - and annoyingly my memory issues didn't really seem to extend to them. I'm still working out what was real and fake from that time, and it has not been easy, or fun. My ‘brain’ feels like goddamn soup whenever I think about that time. 

On top of everything else, sometimes I'd faint. Sometimes due to pain, other times (particularly towards the end of the transformation) I'd just keel over, only to wake up in a puddle of myself. It was really disconcerting and scary… kinda felt like my brain was just cutting out, and I was a little scared it might not cut back in at some point… and of course that’s one of the things I remember clearly, the fear and worry of that - very clear that the ‘remember bad shit’ survival instinct was and still is functioning, as annoying as that is.

Since I don't particularly want to linger on those thoughts more than I already have, an interesting thing to note is that even through all of this, my actual mental faculties didn't diminish - while I was forgetful and distracted, if I managed to make myself, I found myself just as capable as before. I partially did this to help assure myself I wasn't losing myself, but also because, let's be honest, slimes aren't known for being the brightest bunch, and I've been a little worried this whole time that I'd get dumber or something. The pamphlet I was given didn't really say anything about this happening, but I know from trans hrt that the information your given doesn't always include every possible effect (I know it certainly failed to mention the attention issues during the most recent stage, and the blindness from before) 

But, despite last month being basically the worst month of my life, I have survived, albeit a little scrambled, and I'm slowly putting everything back together. And of course, now, there's nothing human left in me! I'm all slime!!! (It makes me so unbelievably happy to be able to say that now).

Interestingly, unlike everything else, my brain hasn't fully gone, instead I ended up with what I quickly realised is a slime core! For those unfamiliar, slimes can have a core, which is essentially like their brain/major organ inside them, usually looking like a small coloured sphere. While slimes are usually pretty hard to damage permanently, damage done to a slimes core can be very debilitating, like heart, brain, or lung damage for humans and stuff. 

I actually think I had a kind of proto-core before hand, but didn't notice it, and I think it came around about when my digestive system was changed, since I think my core manages matter-to-slime conversion (I'm guessing this ‘cause that's improved since my core has now fully formed). I guess I didn’t spy it before ‘cause it was too small or something?

On that note, my core is/looks like, interestingly, a kind of verdant green gem. It mostly just seems to float inside of my goo, although I can move it around my body wherever I like, but I tend to keep it either right in the middle of my torso, or in the middle of my chest (at least in human form). Both areas have a decent amount of goo protecting my core, and it looks neat to have it there. 

It does actually look really pretty, especially when taken outside of my body (don't worry, it can be taken out of my body, so long as it remains in contact with my goo I'm completely fine), and yeah, just kinda looks like a funky green stone/gem. I am curious as to why it's green, and I'm kinda hoping it's gonna boost the efficiency of my photosynthesis, and that it's green ‘cause of chlorophyll, but I don't honestly know yet, need some nice sunny days to properly test it out. 

I did find out that if my core does become separated from my goo, I can just reform another body from stored goo around the core, leaving the old body to fall (but I can just reabsorb it afterwards to maintain mass). Oh, and before anyone worries that I was being reckless, I made sure to check that I wouldn't die before I tested anything.

On the note of stored goo, it seems like excess goo/matter is stored in the core, like fat in humans. I'm not sure what or if there's a limit or what happens if I try to eat too much, but as far as I've gotten for now, it seems to be fine. I have noticed that I actually seem lighter now, I still seem to weigh about as much as I look like I should (maybe slightly over) and as such it changes if I make myself grow bigger, but not really if I eat things. I'm not entirely sure quite what's going on there, as that seems like some physics defying shit, but it's actually super useful, means I can store as much mass as I'd like and not break the sofa when I sit down. 

So asides from all of those experiences and changes, I've found a couple other things that have sprung up from these changes. Firstly, I've found that my body feels much more coherent, I'm very much now one gelatinous entity, rather than bits of one and bits of another. Movement feels much more fluid now, especially outside of a humanoid form (not that I've gotten worse at being humanoid, just better at everything else) and I honestly find myself kind of hot swapping between slime ball and slime girl as I need/feel like it. Also navigating crowds is super easy now, just kinda slipping and moving between any gaps (I could kinda do this before, but again, now it feels so second nature). On top of this, my multitasking seems to have improved. I still can’t say one thing while writing another, but I've gotten better at physical multitasking; I struggle less coordinating my ‘hands’ when I try playing the piano for example (I still can't play it, but I've got more of the coordination for it). Add in that I can very easily have several limbs/pseudopods/whatever you want to call them at once (which is honestly why I think my multitasking has improved, it's to facilitate control of the numerous structures I can now produce) and it’s become very easy to manage multiple, physical, tasks at once. 

One thing I have noticed myself doing, almost subconsciously (and honestly, this might've started a little before now, but I'll talk about it here, since I've really noticed it now), I'll just adjust my body however I need in the moment. Now, this may sound kind of obvious, but it's a little funky (but mostly neat) to just suddenly grow an extra limb, or pseudopod to hold or grab something quickly, or to just adjust my mass to better balance or manage something. Again, very neat, but a little funky to realise when I didn't consciously think about it. 

Relatedly, shaping has become easier, not sure if that's due to practise, or having a more compatible neurological centre, but I seem to be able to shape myself quicker, and I seem to have gained a better memory for shape too, the latter is definitely due to recent changes, or at least, definitely due to the treatment.

I've  also still been working on my acid control, which feels like it's gotten easier, but again I can't say whether that's from practice or the recent changes, but I can at least somewhat reliably keep an area of my body acid free now for a bit.

Unrelated to the treatment, but I'm actually much shorter now, at least in my humanoid form, clocking in at around 4’4”(slime ball form has remained the same size, at around 30cm tall). I always liked the idea of being really small, and I can now, and it's not like it really offers any disadvantages, since I can just reach tendrils up to grab things from high up (with eyes/vision so I can see what I'm doing), plus it means I have more spare slime to spend on other, more fun things than just being tall. This all being said, the idea of using all my slime to become really big also has its appeals, but it's less practical for day to day life. 

To touch on one final thing, I definitely don't feel human anymore. I'm a slime, through and through, humanity is just a memory. I've mentioned before feeling more and more detached from humanity (if I ever felt truly attached) as this process has gone on, but now that I'm seemingly done, I don't feel human at all. Interestingly, I find this aspect has been remarkably similar to gender transition, with the feeling of being a guy slowly fading away until it seemed alien to think of myself as one, which kinda feels like where I'm at at the moment. I'll likely catch myself still including myself in humanity from time to time for a while, but I can safely say I'm a slime, and I am so happy I can now. So that’s what my life has been for the last couple of months, and while parts sucked - like, really sucked - the end result is so unbelievably worth it. While this feels like the end of slime hrt, I do have an appointment planned with the doc to talk about my next step and hopefully get myself onto shapeshifter hrt, so my next update will probably be about that. See y’all then!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

First - Prev - Next

Tag list below cut (lmk if you want to be added)

@calliecwrites, @friedsputnik, @now-entering-the-goop-zone, @scrubbinn, @lilacinthefog

@mint-and-authoress, @losttodreams, @redroversendjayover, @ariathelamia, @kanithedemoncat

[wild0moon]

eating up ur captain design............ /pos

can i ask how pico and captain met in your au (i think its an au anyway)?

very canon adjacent, but it's an au, yeah. my friend and i's funky little universe just to the left of canon where we take things too seriously, you feel me

short version: they happened to meet at a cop shop while pico was waiting for (yet another) police interrogation, weeks to a month after the events of pico's school. john took an interest in pico and offered, mostly as a joke, to teach pico how to handle a gun properly. what was supposed to be a one-off lesson for a quick bit of entertainment turned into regular practice sessions and accidental (but immediate) emotional attachment from both parties. whoops!

and if you'll indulge me, here's the long version, because it's been brewing in my brain recently and i guess my hand slipped

(WARNING: descriptions of and vague flashbacks to the events of pico's school)

💚💚💚💚💚

The police station was usually quiet at this time of day. Idle tapping of fingers against a keyboard, muffled sounds of cars passing outside or of people talking in another room, none obtrusive enough to disturb the thoughts swirling in his head.

Now though, he was entirely preoccupied by annoyance.

Shut up. Why are you so loud? If you don't like pigs, why did you even come in here?

Pico had seen the strange man in black from the corner of his eye, swaggering in like he owned the place, only to start chatting to the receptionist with all the warm familiarity of two former classmates who never really liked each other very much. Derisive whispers in Pico's head grew louder in concert with his rising stress, adding to the noise, birthing a cacophony he couldn't escape from.

The man went quiet, and for a brief moment, Pico was sure he felt eyes on him. His own gaze stayed firmly on his sneakers.

The receptionist finally piped up with something other than a disinterested hum. "That's, uh, that Pico kid. Pico Fulp?"

"Ohh, so you're the kid who shot up his school."

Pico's head snapped up.

In an instant, his vision was dyed red, blood running so hot it threatened to burn him up from the inside. He didn't know when he got to his feet, but he was already taking steps toward the man.

"It wasn't me!" he snarled, words bubbling up and bursting out before he could stop them. "It wasn't! Watch your fucking mouth or I'll break your jaw, you stupid—"

"I got it, kid, calm down," the man talked him down, in a far more stern tone than Pico had been ready for, stopping him in his tracks. Matter-of-factly, he added: "I don't care how tough you are, you've got another thing coming if you think you can break any bone in my body."

Pico grit his teeth, fists clenched at his sides.

The white-hot fire of rage burnt out almost as quickly as it ignited, his little body only growing colder as he actually looked at the man standing before him, red giving way to black and white.

Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing sunglasses so dark it was almost impossible to see the inscrutable eyes behind them. He was uniformed — the army, not the police. Which rank was the three stripes for? Was the 'Captain' on the tag his rank, or his name?

Pico dared to speak up again. "It wasn't me," he repeated, far softer than before.

Captain turned bodily to face him. "I heard you the first time. So, what did you actually do?"

He looked away again, wringing his freshly scarred hands. "I... I stopped it, sir. I killed the shooters."

The slight movement of Captain's eyebrows snared the corner of Pico's vision. "Really now?"

"I... I found a big gun in the janitor's closet, they must've stashed it in there," the words spilled forth, as if he were back in that vile interrogation room already. "So I took it, and I shot them. All of them. There were four, a-and I didn't even know what I was doing, I was scared out of my mind, I'd never held a gun before in my life, I don't know how I—"

"You've never used a gun, but you still managed to take down four armed threats all by yourself?" There was a note of interest in Captain's voice, despite him crossing his arms.

Pico swallowed thickly.

"Please leave me alone!"

"I was told to just scare you! I wasn't gonna kill you!"

"...Two of them weren't moving, sir. I'd disarmed them, and they were afraid..."

Captain hummed. "Right. And the other two?"

No answer. Memories of callous men in blue giving him withering looks or laughing in his face when he told the truth kept his jaw clamped shut.

Captain lifted his head, looking around the otherwise empty room. "Where are your parents?"

A half-hearted shrug. "They don't want anything to do with me right now, sir."

They never did in the first place.

The soldier's thick eyebrows furrowed, but for the life of him, Pico wasn't sure what it meant. The man was as easy to read as a book with all its pages glued together. That, or he was just illiterate.

"I probably only lived because we were all just kids who barely knew what we were doing," Pico found himself saying, as if he hadn't also slaughtered a giant alien that day — Cassandra had been young and inexperienced in her own way, too. "If something like that happened again, I… I dunno."

Captain said nothing, just staring down at him, seeming thoughtful.

Silence fell over the room for a long moment, disturbed faintly by the nasty voices Pico had learned only he could hear. When the man's voice broke through the murmurs again, it hardly sounded any kinder.

"Look, if I were you, I'd stop pissing myself and go get some actual experience under my belt."

"But—"

He wasn't done. "You know where the gun range is, right? The one five minutes north of here? Meet me there at thirteen-hundred tomorrow. Even a minute late and the offer expires, got it?"

…What?

Pico lifted his gaze to meet Captain's, incredulous. "You mean... But, why would you help me?"

It was Captain's turn to offer a lazy shrug. "I'm bored outta my skull, and this is the most entertainment I've gotten in months."

He said that, but he didn't look very amused. Besides, a soldier like him surely didn't have time to waste on such petty entertainment as watching a child grappling with fear. Pico tried scrutinizing the man's face for a moment longer, unsure what he was even searching for, but quickly found himself at a loss.

The easy answer was that it was a genuine offer to help, to teach him how to properly handle a firearm and put that aspect of his trepidation to rest. Pico wasn't sure if he believed that, but for some reason, he really hoped it was true. That would mean that Captain saw something in him, something more than the unfortunate kid and murderer that the other adults saw, something worth taking a chance on.

Nice. This man, a total stranger, was being nice.

When was the last time anyone said something nice to him?

(Weeks ago, in a sterile hospital room, two hands gently clasping one of his own, their owner smiling in spite of the anxiety behind those pretty black eyes, the sweetest voice Pico had ever heard telling him over and over how everything was going to be okay—)

Pico shook his head, as if he could physically clear the memory away.

He's gone now. Stop thinking about him.

By the time Pico dragged himself back to the present, Captain was already on the way out, muttering something about the stench of hogs. Pico watched him walk away, until he disappeared from view.

"Prick," the receptionist muttered, returning their attention to their computer.

With little else to do, Pico returned to his seat. His own thoughts quickly took center stage as usual, but they were different now, looking tentatively to the future, rather than the bloody memories that tugged insistently at his back.

It had been a while since he had something to look forward to.

[thegreatyin]

*claps* alright lets go over my own master bat species kin assignments then. most of these takes are either based on things i've seen from other people and adopted into my own worldview or just. completely and utterly based on how cute the bat looks. mostly the latter, actually. i have a weakness for cute bats.

The Bandaged Scoundrel/This blog's resident Mr Cards - i simply cannot make a bat list without including her on at least an honorary level. you know her, you hate her, you (debatably) love her, the scoundrel is destined to look like an eastern red bat!!!!! she is so so so fluffy and so so so cute and all of her war crimes are excused forever and ever because look at her itty bitty little face

Mr Veils - going completely with the grain of fandom opinion here, veils is 100% a spectral bat in my eyes. it just. it works so well. it's the largest bat in america. it's one of the few bat species known to eat other bats. its jaw strength is absolutely insane. it's one of very few monogamous bat species, which may seem like an odd detail when listing reasons why it's like veils, but also that beast is incredibly divorced and to this day struggling to cope with said divorce and you cannot convince me otherwise. just. just look at that thing. just Look at its face. that is the face of a creature who knows what its done and is completely and utterly unrepentant about it. veils spectral bat numero uno

Mr Spices - this lazy evil milf is a pygmy fruit eating bat!! there is no strong reasoning behind this choice besides "looks like it would roll around in a pile of crack" and "is very small". i have nothing to say beyond appreciating the little racing stripes on its head. i think they add character. speaking of size differences-

Mr Wines - i've seen a lot of people dub wines a golden-crowned flying fox, which i mostly agree with, except i also discovered spectacled flying foxes exist and have you SEEN their little faces?? their big ol eyes?? their funky little guy swag?? there's not really any particular reason i chose this species above golden-crowned flying foxes (in fact, that one probably does fit wines better), i just really really like their cute little face markings and figured wines having the same thing would be cute. it's a distraction from how unapologetically vile its personality is

Mr Pages - pallid bat. i also have absolutely no justification for this choice. i just think it Looks Like A Pages™. the big ol ears and little snout to balance glasses on?? come on. you can see it. i'm not crazy. that's just a pages creature right there

Mr Fires - HOARY BAT MY BELOVED!!! there is some actual reasoning behind this choice (the bright orange fur around its neck can be used as an analogue for fire, the powdered donut swag on the rest of its body is a bit like smoke, etc) but mostly it comes down to me thinking it'd be really really funny if fires did all of the crimes that it does while being really tiny and having a baby face. look at it. joy and whimsy in its eyes. i just know it's thinking about tormenting union workers as we speak.

Mr Apples/Mr Hearts/Mr Happles/Mr Seriously Needs To Pick One Name And Stick To It Already - this one is just here for completionist's sake. happles is a common vampire bat. we have canon artwork of its face. i'm just using this as an opportunity to force more bat pictures upon ye.

Mr Iron - it is the swords bat. it is the grumpy bat. it is the grumpy swords bat. there is no bat that suits iron more than a literal swords-nosed bat, on account of the fact that it has a sword for a nose and looks kinda grumpy in this picture.

Mr Stones - everyone's dearly beloved little hoarder is BALD BALD BALD BALD BALD BALD BALD a naked bulldog bat. my reasoning? stones feels like the type to compensate for its lack of fur by way of strutting around dressed to the nines in jewelry. also, it's gotta be developing some insane muscles from being weighed down by diamonds 24/7, and what better way to let that show than via a bat that has no fur to obscure them?

Mr Cups and Mr Mirrors - whatever their relation may be, these two share a species in my mind, and that species is the mexican free-tailed bat. this is, much like pages, purely a vibes thing. it just looks like a cups. if you told me this little guy used its whiskers to dig around for trash i'd 100% believe you. mirrors mostly just shares its species by virtue of association, though i do like the idea of it being a silver-haired bat of some kind.

and those are all of my bat takes! feel free to tell me how much i suck and am wrong lmao