#when was the last time i managed to do that magic trick

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Cater Diamond: Woke Up Lookin’ Like This

The way that goofy diamond mascot follows Cater into his various outfits 💀

dbsjgejeje Can’t believe he’s being an beauty guru/influencer showing off makeup products and shooting a GRWM vid in his groovy… OTL

Rise and Shine!

Looking like you have it together is far different than actually having it together.

Some days—like today—Cater had trouble getting himself out of bed. He always did in the end, but with great effort, like lugging a sack of potatoes to the washroom. A splash of ice-cold water often did the trick, rousing him awake and adding a faint flush or pink to his face.

But color is a flaw. Imperfect. No pure diamond has splotches of another color tainting it.

He’d paint over his half-dead canvas with cleanser, toner, serum, and moisturizer. Skincare was less routine and more ritual for him. A special magic charm, complete with an incantation muttered to himself.

Smile already. You’re never fully dressed without it.

By the time he patted himself dry, his face managed to settle into its usual arrangement. The upward curve of his lips, a friendly sparkle set in his eyes, tangerine waves pushed back by a headband to show off the mask he wore. This was “himself”—the thinnest sliver of Cater he showed the world.

He plopped down on at the foot his bed. His phone was mounted on a tripod, and just out of camerashot were various pieces of equipment. Extra lights, reflectors—tricks to flatter him. To distract, deceive. Even the placement of the plushies on his bed had been arranged for maximum visual appeal in the eye of the camera.

Aaand… action.

The recording started.

Cater flashed a huge grin and waved to his phone. “Gooood morning, Magicam fam! How’re you doing today?”

His spectators were, of course, no one. Not now, at least. He’d have to edit this footage later, tweak and fine tune it to achieve perfection before releasing it to the public. Then he would lap up that sweet, addictive validation.

And so he donned that mask once more, playing to his imaginary audience.

“Hahah, you guys are so silly.” He playfully tossed a few of his locks. “Did you think Cay-kun woke up like this? It takes effort to look this good!”

Cater winked, pointing at his audience members. “You can do it too! I’ll walk you through my base makeup routine 🎵”

He held up a slim grey tube, his palm acting as its backstop to keep the camera focused on it. Other products were neatly lined up before him like a procession of card soldiers.

“Lately, I’ve been really gravitating to this beand new UV primer! Have you heard of it? It literally just came out this month. I got my hands on it as soon as I could and I’ve been wearing it every day since!”

Cater rattled off the benefits and uses of the primer: UV protection, dewy—not greasy (this difference was important) finish, great coverage, evening skin tone. “You can put powder on top or dab it on with a tissue over a full face of makeup and it still looks good! This is sure to go viral ⭐️”

He was in the middle of a demonstration when the knocking came. Cater startled, smearing a blob of product across one cheek.

“Aaah, shoot…!”

He scrambled for his phone, cutting off the recording. Then Cater shot up, rushing to his door while rubbing the primer into his skin.

"Coming...! Wait just a sec!" he called.

An aside, to consult his reflection in the mirror and ensure that every last bit of product had been pressed in. His skin was left supple and glowing, giving the impression of a guy that hadn't spent the last hour before drifting off doomscrolling and commenting on shallow posts. A guy that had it all together.

Cater slicked back a stray strand of hair and braced himself for his next act. The door swung open, revealing you and your school bag.

“Mornin’~! You’re up bright and early!” he chirped, casually leaning against the doorframe. “Wasn’t expecting you to be over so soon.”

“Oh—well, I wanted to see if I could catch you without your full face on.” You squinted at him. “Wow, did you really wake up looking like this?"

Cater gave a laugh that was light and effortless. "What do you think?" he asked teasingly. An expert dodging of the question--not the truth, but not quite a lie either.

You bit your lower lip, considering it. "Come on. Nobody's that perfect. Even Vil-senpai has to work hard to be the way he is."

You took a step toward him, and he backed up. One foot rested on that line dividing his room from the rest of Heartslabyul. You teetered there, as if on a tightrope. One more step, and you'd breach into his territory--his room, his most intimate place.

"... What's your secret?"

My secret?

He had many. Too many. They writhed like worms inside of him, those ugly pieces that shrank from the sunshine.

Cater turned away, plucking up another tube of product. He squeezed a dollop onto his index finger. "What's the fun in giving it away? I think..."

His arm shot out, poking you in the chin.

"... It's more fun to give chase! If you spot a white rabbit hopping around, you'd be curious about where it's going, right?"

Your reached for where he had marked you. Your fingers came away moist with a thick cream. With a sigh, you rubbed at it, the cream vanishing into your skin.

"You're impossible."

Cater smiled--perhaps for the first real time since he had woken up. "That's one impossibility! Come up with five more before breakfast and maybe I'll be nice enough to give you a hint~"

[theroundbartable]

Arthur is stuck in a time loop.

At first, he doesn't really notice it, since every day feels the same anyway. It's Merlin's good morning that irks him, however, because Merlin tends to switch up the routine a lot. When then the topic of the court meeting is the same, Arthur knows what's up.

In loop three, he asks Gaius for help and the man explains that only a powerful sorcerer could do such a thing and that he'd need strong magic to break it.

The next morning, everything is forgotten. And Arthur researches on his own what's happening. He spends days at the library until one day, he's just really tired.

And so, he stays in bed for a couple days, and lets Merlin complain for hours. It's soozing in an odd way. As days go by, Arthur gets bolder. He approaches Merlin in broad sunlight, hands him food or flowers in front of people and receiving odd stares.

Arthur waits for Merlin's reactions and they seem rather hesitant if also positive. Yet, when Arthur finally gathers up the courage to confess, Merlin rejects him.

Arthur spends another few loops in bed, while Merlin no longer carries any memories of the incident. Arthur then asks Gaius dejectedly who the most powerful sorcerer is he knows.

And Gaius says Emrys and tells him the man lives in the woods, a two day march from Camelot. Arthur loses hope. One loop equals a day. He'd never make it. That is IF the man is even there.

On loop xy, Arthur asks Gaius again, during a different time of day, where Emrys lives. And Gaius answers: about half a day ride north, Sire.

Arthur is confused. That doesn't make sense. Why would Gaius say something different than last time? Gaius was clearly part of the loop! Unless he's lying. And each time he lied he just said the first thing that came to mind.

Arthur stops avoiding Merlin at one point and accepts that Merlin won't respond to his feelings. So, he approaches him and tries to discuss magic issues with him. While Merlin warns him of magic like read from a script, Arthur argues positive aspects. Because he's trying to talk himself into turning to magic to maybe manage to save himself if he trained himself in the arts. Even if it takes years of the timeloop.

Unprompted, Merlin hugs him tight and looks at him with so much affection that Arthur is sure Merlin likes him.

Needless to day, Arthur is more than confused. And Arthur notices another thing. Both Merlin and Gaius react differently to him, depending on how he talks. If he's positive about magic, they are eager to help. Merlin looks most carefree then. And almost like he wants to ... Well, what exactly?

One loop, Arthur tests the theorie: Merlin, I'm going to lift the magic ban.

Merlin stops in his tracks and stares at Arthur. Arthur repeats himself, nervous of the response. Almost more nervous than he was when he got rejected.

Arthur: merlin?

Merlin: why

Arthur: because magic isn't as evil as my father had me believe.

Merlin: is this a trick?

Arthur: a trick? No. I just understand now that sometimes magic is needed. And I need magic right now. *Explains situation*

Merlin: ... arthur, i don't know how many timeloops you've been through

Arthur: you believe me? Uhhhh... 200, probably

Merlin: ... I can help you

Arthur: how?

Merlin: because I'm emrys

[8-0mph]

Forbidden Dream

This is all of my Adventure Time AU in chronological story order. Thanks to my friend for proof-read.

Act I: Prismo and Betty

This takes some time after the events of F&C. Prismo and Scrabby inhabit the TR(TimeRoom) and Golbetty has gotten restless with her time in space. She decides to reach out to other multiversal beings, but no one wants to associate with Golb. She finally finds someone that puts up with her ..that being the Wishmaster.

Prismo is scared of Golbetty at first, especially Scrabby since he has a little bit of history with her. He scurries off or hides behind Prismo when she is in the TR. To Scrabbys surprise, Pris and Betty hit it off and become good friends. They find they have something in common, which is their “human” past. Theyre both mortals turned to immortals.

The duo start off by drinking and making fanfics together, but then Betty proposes the idea of making these fics “real”. Prismo is hesitant at first but lately he doesn’t mind breaking the rules.

At first they visit universes that Prismo considers safe. They treat them like vacations, and a lot of these worlds do not have the typical AT characters. Theyre peaceful docile places. Prismo gets daring, telling Betty that he wants to feel alive again. The two of them agree to visit a dangerous world, the Vampire Kingdom.

Notes:

- Betty chose her physical form to look like magic Betty because she felt it would be strange to appear as she normally did in the past.

- Prismos physical form is what he looked like as a younger human. He thought it would be more fitting for the “adventure”. Also.. He hates how clothing feels on him, so the see-through garments suffice.

- Scrabby is not happy about their friendship. He feels that Prismo has gotten even lazier, foregoing his Wishmaster responsibilities and even worse, ignoring him. The scarab thought he found someone that was happy to spend time with him for the first time, But feels like he has gone back to being the “forgotten” one.

EP II: Vampire Kingdom

Once Pris and Betty teleport here, theyre immediately caught off guard by a group of vampires that whisk Prismo away and the two are separated. Betty gets surprised by a starved vampire!Simon, who at first doesnt recognize her until he gets a good look at her face.

He refuses to believe its actually Betty and rather a wizard attempting to play tricks on him. Marcy calls his name and he flys away, leaving Betty stunned.

The vampire world is an AU where Vampires take over, but Simon never died and was able to stay with Marcy. Marcy isnt evil here. Simons crown was stolen before he could make a complete transformation into IceKing, and his sanity was kept in part to Marcy turning him to save him from a group of hungry vampires. One curse was replaced with another.

Marcy was turned at a younger age by the VK, but Simon saved her by scratching at the VKs eye (his face scar). Even though the King is furious at Simon for this, he thinks it is more amusing to keep Simon alive and suffering from vampirism. Vampires are starved in this world just like “The Star” episode, but Simon proposes the idea to wrangle human (and animal) survivors and keep them on a reserve to supply the Vampires with a food source. He inevitably becomes the person in charge of the Blood farms. Keep in mind, Simon did this to save humans, otherwise they would have been hunted to extinction.

Unlike the safe worlds PrisBetty visited, this world has most of the original cast in them. Finn is a survivor of the Blood Farms, swearing to kill Simon who he believes imprisoned him in there (which.. is true). The farm is surrounded by booby traps all around the perimeter, no one can get in or out without some level of flying.

Finn always managed to get close to escaping But eventually gets caught in one of the traps. The last attempt caused him to cut his own arm off to be freed and helped by Huntress Wizard. She is one of the few wizards to help the freedom fighters, a band of humans and candy people led by Commander PB. Wizards are hated by Vampires since theyre the few beings that can overpower them. They try to stay out of each others business But huntress is an exception as she feels that the vampires are disrupting the balance of nature.

The Candy Kingdom is fortress walled with wooden spikes and garlic (I thought it would be silly Lol). PBs armor consists of wooden stakes and reminiscent of Golb who she is a follower of. She has access to the Enchiridion and sees Golb as a being that she should harness the power of if the vampires happen to overwhelm her people someday.

The end of the story would involve PrisBetty helping Simon overthrow the VK after Marcy discovers the vampires ability to “drink red” instead of blood. They team up with the help of PB and Huntress. Simon never truly reconciles with Betty as his defense mechanism is to push any feelings of his past away. But he does have a newfound respect for her and tells her to visit him again. Simon will assume the role of Vampire King and free the humans afterward.

Notes:

- Simon is the only vampire dressing in traditionally “Dracula” clothes. Because hes a nerd and thinks its fitting.

- Marcy is raised by Simon here instead of VK, so she is a lot kinder and sympathetic to the humans and candy kingdom (even if she doesnt show it for a while).

EP III: Winter Kingdom

After the Vampire world, Prismo and Betty decide their adventuring is “complete” and attempt to teleport back to the Time Room with Prismos magic. This doesnt work out. Turns out, their human forms have been draining their magic slowly, making it so that they need to find a magical item to recharge. This being the Enchiridion.

This is a totally different world than (Canon) Winter Kings as obviously he is alive here.

Ooo has been mysteriously frozen over and put into an eternal Ice Age. There is hardly any life (apart from immortal beings and those resistant to the temperatures) so hardly anyone lives on the surface. Prismo automatically assumes WK is responsible, but Betty refuses to believe Simon would be the cause of this destruction. WK has a much larger kingdom with a variety of ice people, a lot of them more human-like in appearance. It seems like he is trying to mirror a human society.

Here WK has Bettys skeleton and attempting to use the cloning machine he has in F&C to clone a “real” Betty (which is why he doesnt have an ice clone of her).

The backstory of this WK mirrors my au version of him.

Prismo and Betty are briefly separated and I wont go into too much detail on the story. Betty gets the “safe” tour of the kingdom by WK and Prismo is left to wander in search for the Enchiridion. He starts to see things that point to a darker scene (fire people fighting ice soldiers, lack of any plant life, and ice clones of people who no longer exist). At the same time, Betty is off-put by WKs controlling nature. He reveals to her that he has been in a 100-year war with the Fire Kingdom “who destroy everything” with their flames, while ice “preserves it”. Betty is shocked to see the extent of destruction the Ice Kingdom has caused to Ooo and manages to slip away to do her own investigating. She eventually ends up in the room Bettys corpse is kept, which is the only place that WK allows plant life to grow. The Enchiridion was sitting on skeleton Bettys lap.

The two of them engage in a fight where he details his plan for her and Ooo.

Prismo manages to save her at the end of it. Up until this point hes been a pacifist in the story. They use the Enchiridion to teleport home and they end up.. not there.

Notes:

- I had a bonus page where Scrabby is reacting to PrisBetty not arriving back in the Time Room. He thinks they didnt teleport back on purpose.

- This page also has WK grabbing Bettys ankle right as she teleports. I was going to have WK teleport with them so there was some kind of threat. I am not sure yet.

- The fight scene was supposed to be a lot longer with Betty having the upperhand at first, But I didnt want to draw all of it.

- Winters appearance slowly turns back into Simon when separated from the magic crown.

EP IV: Back Home

They end up in Ooo where the magic teleported them into the sky, making them fall a great distance. They are a little injured, but Betty is mostly shaken by her experience in the Winter world. She redirects this into frustration at Prismo for not teleporting them to the correct place and that they would need to search another “sucky universe”.

Prismo is frustrated and goes off on his own to find another magical object. Betty stays put in the forest. When looking up, Prismo realizes the universe they teleported to was actually the main Ooo upon seeing the floating human city. He rushes back to where Betty was sitting, telling her to go find her Simon here in Ooo, that he knew that he had the Enchiridion in his closet. Betty refuses, knowing that she already said goodbye to Simon years ago and him seeing her again will only hurt him.

Prismo is annoyed at this but walks off, and Betty wanders around the forest until she encounters one of the transport boats that take people up to the city. In her reluctance, she hitches a ride. Meanwhile Prismo reaches a graveyard on the outskirts of the woods, he hides in the bushes and sees a familiar person, Finn, walking up and leaving a bouquet of flowers at the grave.

When Betty makes it up to the city, she explores for a bit before approaching Simon (who is signing a childs book). Before she could say anything, she covers her face with her hat and speeds off. He is at first confused by this but is immediately distracted by the kid again.

Betty is in shock and retreats onto the boat leading her back down to land. She eventually catches up to Prismo, who is kneeling over Jakes grave. She attempts to comfort him, but the words fall short. He asks her if she visited Simon, but Betty says she couldnt do it. At this point Prismo feels like he wasted his time in the Time Room when he could have been spending it in his human form visiting Jake. He remained trapped in the TR unable to spend time with the mortals he built connections with. He feels that Betty is going to suffer the same regret he feels after Simon inevitably dies.

In a turn of events, Prismo places his hand on the grave and it teleports them back into the Time Room. They are amazed by this, Jakes grave acted like a magical object would have. They temporarily celebrate before Betty is impaled by an angry Scrabby.

Bettys human form is heavily injured as Prismo and the Scarab fight in several rooms. Scrabby tells him that he alerted the auditors about their misdeeds. That they will both be locked away for thousands of years or perhaps forever just like he was trapped in the Time Room.

Prismo temporarily subdues Scrabby and goes back to the main room where Betty is. This is where he turns her into a fox to keep her hidden, and promises that her memories are all stored in her body dormant in Golb (Like how Prismos form is dormant in the Time Room).

Fox!Betty wakes up in Ooo, no memories, a feeling of disconnect from her body, and hungry.

End of Act 1

Act II is all about Bettys life as a fox in Ooo. Its a lot calmer and slow burn in comparison to Act I. Upon landing in Ooo, fox!Betty encounters posters advertising Simons* sci-fi series Casper and Nova. She is convinced he is knowledgeable about space because a talking dog told her he was.

*EDIT: Someone pointed out that C&N was written by Astrid (it is implied heavily). Pretend the posters are the two of them working together, maybe Simon helping Astrid write them since she is just a kid.

She starts pestering Simon at one of his book signings and he already dislikes foxes because earlier in the week, a band of them stole his draft for an upcoming book. Betty proposes that she will find the notes and return them to him if she can have a place to stay (Even though he says no, she crashes at his place anyway).

I thought about Simon giving Betty a nickname so that she isnt just referred to as “fox”, so she is “Sunny” since she really likes when he makes sunny-side up eggs. She really likes eggs as a fox that is her quirk.

Update 1/21/24: Sunny encounters Simon after breaking into his home and snooping around for clues. Simon ambushes her in the Golb ritual room, assuming she has come to steal the Enchiridion. Sunny explains herself and claims that she can get Simons draft back from the fox thieves. They go on an “adventure”. It is revealed that fox!Betty can transform into Betty only when unconscious/sleeping. Simon wakes up next to her but assumes he is hallucinating..

Post about Simon and fox!Bettys dynamic.

I couldnt fit all images into this post as there is a 10 photo limit. I decided to link additional photos to underlined text. If you want further context, check those out. I love reading others AUs and was inspired to do my own. Any questions can be left in comment. Thanks for read..!

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Alright, time for another Merlin au! This one won the last poll, marked as "an au featuring Arthur being an idiot"!

In this au, set sometime in the three years between season 4 and season 5, Arthur, Merlin, and the knights of the round table get ambushed by a large pack of ferocious wyverns while on a quest. This time, Merlin couldn't be subtle about using his dragonlord commands to pacify them, and that was the only way to ensure that they would all make it out alive. So, Merlin uses dragonlord commands to make the wyverns leave and, in the process, reveals that's he's a dragonlord. However, he at least managed to keep his magic a secret through the ordeal, so he's got that going for him.

Arthur is, of course, rather upset about Merlin keeping this secret from him, and is even more upset when he learned that Balinor was Merlin's father and guilty that he didn't support his friend through mourning his father as Merlin had for him. However, Arthur can also keep things in perspective. After all, dragonlord powers weren't actual sorcery, apparently it was a magic-adjacent gift that Merlin had inherited at the moment of his father's death, whether he wanted to or not. Besides, it wasn't like Merlin chose to have the ability, so Arthur couldn't really hold the ability itself against Merlin.

And anyways, Arthur mused to himself at their camp after Merlin came clean to the knights the night after the the wyvern attack, it wasn't like there were any dragons left. The only thing Merlin could do was command wyverns. While that could perhaps make him a threat if he wasn't the most harmless person Arthur knew, they didn't even encounter wyverns that often.

So, Arthur was willing to just let this be a useful little trick that Merlin could use on the off chance that they ran into wyverns. Still, the image that the whole situation gave Arthur, an image of Merlin being a formidable, powerful dragonlord with devastating dragons under his command, was rather amusing.

So, as Arthur settled in for the night after hearing the last of Merlin's explanation, this wasn't going to be a big deal. Sure, he was still hurt that Merlin kept this a secret from him, but Arthur could understand why. Uther had killed all of the other dragonlords, so it made sense that Merlin felt unsafe with his father still on the throne, and since they didn't run across wyverns often, there was a very real chance that Merlin just forgot about his ability entirely until it was relevant again. That was a very Merlin thing to do.

So, everything was fine. Everyone with them looked comfortable with Merlin, and he knew that they would keep this a secret for Merlin's sake. If word of Merlin's dragonlord abilities got out, Arthur could always publicly grant him a pardon. After all, it wasn't like he had ever hurt anybody with it. The only thing he seemed to do with it was send wyverns away.

Arthur quietly snorted to himself at the thought. Oh no, the terrible powers of Merlin the dragonlord, telling some wyverns to shoo.

Arthur relaxed into his bedroll, listening to the knights settling in to sleep and their fire crackling a few feet away. The quiet noises were peaceful, but were broken a few minutes later by Leons seemingly innocuous question.

"Merlin, if you were already a dragonlord when we rode out to face the great dragon, did you do anything with your powers? I assume you're the reason Arthur made it out alive through the whole ordeal."

Merlin froze where he was sitting, a myriad of emotions passing through his face before his expression settled on a grimace. Arthur sat up, interested in hearing Merlin's answer. What truly happened that night with the dragon? In the comfort of his own mind, Arthur admitted that Merlin's explanation of Arthur slaying it was... unlikely, at best, considering that Arthur was unconscious at the time.

"Well, you'd be correct Leon. It took me a while to figure out how to use dragonlord commands, since I never got any instruction on how I was supposed to command Kil- the great dragon. I'm truly sorry that I wasn't quick enough to save the other knights."

Merlin hung his head low, with what looked like shame. Arthur frowned at his manservant. Surely Merlin couldn't hold himself responsible for their deaths? Every knight had similar guilt, telling themselves at night that they should've been faster, should've been better, should've been more aware, then maybe some of their friends would still be with them.

Every knight learned the same lesson: those thoughts were the path to madness. It was disheartening to see that misplaced guilt on Merlin as well.

Luckily, before Arthur had to try to articulate that, Leon seemed to have similar thoughts, and spoke to Merlin with a soft, reassuring smile.

"Merlin, they volunteered for that mission, and they knew the risks. You are not to blame for the dragon's actions. Now please, tell us, how was the dragon actually defeated?"

Merlin nodded at Leon's words, but the guilt remained on his face.

"I, uh, was able to find my dragonlord voice after Arthur was knocked from his horse. He hadn't managed to hit the dragon, and he was about to kill Arthur, but I couldn't let that happen."

Merlin glanced over at Arthur, who was valiantly trying to ignore the warm fuzzy feelings blooming in his chest at the thought of Merlin slaying a dragon single-handedly just to protect him. He wasn't some maiden in a children's tale!

"But, when I gave the order to the dragon to stop attacking, I- I couldn't-"

Merlin swallowed thickly before continuing.

"I couldn't kill him. He was the last dragon, the last of my kin. So, I ordered him to leave. I banished him from Camelot and forbade him from ever harming another human again."

This time, Arthur froze where he was sitting, and he could see that the knights were in similarly tense states. Poor Leon turned a rather disturbing shade of pale.

Finally, Arthur spoke up with a forced calm tone, the type that was only a thin veneer to panic.

"Merlin, you don't mean to tell me that the dragon is still alive? And it could return to Camelot to finish what it started?"

Merlin looked at Arthur and tried to reassure him, but Arthur could barely comprehend Merlin's words through his rising panic.

"Well, yes, he's still alive, but dragons physically cannot disobey orders given by their dragonlord. He cannot return to Camelot at all, unless I call for him."

Merlin tried to give him a comforting smile, but Arthur wasn't sure he could feel any sort of comfort at the moment. He locked eyes with Leon, who wasn't faring much better with his own panic. Dear gods, that monster was still out there! They had all been living under a false sense of security! And all the while, Merlin was smiling at him like there was nothing wrong at all!

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to think through the haze of his panic. Right, Merlin hadn't killed the dragon. That made sense, since Merlin hated killing anything at all, much less the most dangerous monster on the planet. Right. But, according to Merlin, the dragon physically couldn't enter Camelot or hurt any humans.

Information, what Arthur needed was more information. If he had more information, he could come up with a strategy to keep Camelot safe from the dragon indefinitely. Merin's orders had worked for now, but there was no guarantee that those would work forever.

Forever... wait a minute...

"Merlin," Arthur called out frantically, fueled by an awful thought. "How long does a dragonlord's order bind a dragon?" Please say forever, please say forever...

Merlin's eyebrows shot up, apparently not expecting Arthur to ask such a question.

"Well, any dragonlord's order is fully binding to a dragon up until the original dragonlord rescinds the order or the dragonlord dies, whichever comes first."

Arthur felt panic's icy fingers wrap around his heart. Arthur despised even thinking about any hypothetical death of Merlin's, couldn't fathom an empty life as the king without his friend, but this, this information put a whole new layer of dread onto the though, which Arthur previously thought wasn't even possible. He could see the other knights catching onto his logic as well, while Merlin still sat on his log, looking at all of them confusedly.

If Merlin somehow died, then his banishment on the dragon was lifted. And if that happened, there would be no dragonlord left to stop it from reducing all of Camelot to ash. If Merlin died, then Camelot was doomed.

This new knowledge sat heavy in Arthur's gut, putting him on edge. Balinor had been killed from a bandit's crossbow bolt, something that Merlin faced regularly while following Arthur around. All it would take was one lucky shot on a bandit's part, and all of Camelot would die.

One bandit attack gone wrong, one assassin from Morgana, one accident on the training field, one illness contracted from a patient, and all of Camelot would go up in smoke.

Wait... dragons lived for thousands of years... and Merlin would, if Arthur had his way, live for at least a hundred years, but everyone died eventually. The dragon would surely outlive Merlin, and then the only way that Camelot would still stand was if there was another dragonlord! But Merlin was the only one left, and it was passed down from...

from father to son.

Arthur choked on air as he realized it. Good god, what had his life come to?!

If Camelot was going to survive, Merlin needed to have a son, and have one quickly. For the continued survival of Camelot to be ensured, Merlin needed to find a wife and get laid.

Arthur wanted to start laughing hysterically. The fate of his kingdom rested upon Merlin's ability to sire a child.

Arthur stared at Merlin as the other man tried not to squirm under the shocked gazes of all the knights. Ok, he could do this, his kingdom would be safe from the dragon, he just needed a plan.

First, they needed to get Merlin back to Camelot, where he would be safe and away from murderous bandits. That part was easy enough, they were already heading back to the kingdom anyways. The knights had estimated that it would have taken them another three days to reach Camelot, but with all of the knights sharing Arthur panic around Merlin's safety, for both the sake of their friend himself and the kingdom, they were able to make it back in only two days.

For those two days, Merlin seemed more confused by their frantic and panicked behavior than anything else. His shocked and embarrassed face when Percival had helped him on and off his horse - "so he doesn't fall and get hurt", the gentle giant had rationalized - had been very amusing. All the while, Arthur planned out what they would do when they returned and repeatedly reassured Merlin that no, he wasn't too mad about Merlin letting the dragon live since Merlin could at least keep it away.

Then, they needed to ensure Merlin's protection in Camelot. Granted, there weren't many dangers in Camelot, but the clumsy fool could find danger anywhere. With his luck, Arthur would bet that Merlin would trip over some stairs in the castle and wind up bleeding out! That could be remedied by assigning knights to guard Merlin at all times in Camelot and keeping Merlin physically by his side as much as he could. Merlin raised an eyebrow at his new guards and schedule, which kept him glued to Arthur's hip at all hours of the day, but otherwise said nothing (besides a little mocking about how Arthur couldn't get anything done without him. Arthur tried not to think about how the familiar taunt rang far more true than he had ever realized.).

(Merlin, on his end, took these measures as a sign that he had lost Arthur's trust with the admission of letting the dragon live. What else was he supposed to think about knights following him 24/7 and being kept in Arthur's line of sight more than ever before?! Merlin consoled himself that it was by far more lenience than he had been expecting. Arthur hadn't threatened him, he wasn't being executed or exiled, Arthur was still treating him as a friend, and he had every chance to earn Arthur's trust back again. Really, if his punishment as just having to be with his knight friends at all times, then he could happily live with that.)

Still, Arthur didn't know how to go about the final part of his plan: ensuring that Merlin would have an heir to inherit his dragonlord powers and keep Camelot standing for generations to come. Of all of the trials and quests he'd faced, this one seemed to be the most daunting of all: finding a woman attracted to Merlin.

Arthur eventually settled on a plan. He'd have Gwaine accompany Merlin on long walks around the castle and the lower town, and the knight would report back to Arthur on which ladies had caught Merlin's eye, and which ladies Merlin had caught the eye of. Gwaine had a way to spotting attraction between people, something he frequently used to gather ammunition to tease his fellow knights with. With any luck, there would be some overlap between the two lists, and they could find some nice woman for Merlin to settle down with.

After a few weeks, however, Arthur found himself having to re-evaluate his plan. While Gwaine had reported that there were a good number of young ladies in the lower town that seemed to fancy Merlin, Merlin didn't seem to have eyes for anyone, which made their mission trickier.

Eventually, Arthur resorted to inviting Merlin over for dinner with him and Gwen, hoping to flaunt to Merlin how great the married life was and how Merlin was getting older and was running out of time to settle down and have children. To his disappointment, Merlin didn't seem to get the hint, instead telling both of them how much he appreciated them including him in their time together when they didn't have to. Arthur had to swallow back frustrated screams at his friend's obliviousness.

(Gwen, meanwhile, was perplexed by Arthur's push for Merlin to find a wife. At first glance, she would think that Arthur was worried about Merlin never settling down and starting a family, which was something Gwen sometimes worried about as well.

However, Arthur's push was more vehement than a concerned friend's. There was something there, some underlying passion forcing him to push Merlin towards a wife.

When Gwen finally realized the truth behind Arthur's efforts, it broke her heart. Gwen knew that her husband could be a bit old-fashioned in some ways, and that the prejudices that he must have grown up with as a noble were not easily shaken off, but still, that wasn't an excuse to be homophobic towards Merlin!

Gwen had figured out about her friend's preferences during the Lamia's attack, since Merlin was the only man unaffected. Truthfully though, Gwen had suspected long before that, given how Merlin had looked at both Lancelot and Gwaine. And while it was shocking for Gwen, she would support her friend no matter what!

So, she was very disappointed in Arthur's behavior. Arthur must have somehow learned about Merlin's preference towards men during their last quest, and now he was trying to pressure Merlin into finding a wife! She agreed that Merlin deserved a lovely family, but Arthur should not force him into the nobility's narrow definition of family! If Merlin wanted his lovely family to involve a husband instead of a wife and that's what made him happy, then that is what they all should wholeheartedly accept!

Gwen really needed to give her husband a stern talking-to before he could hurt Merlin with his prejudice!)

(Merlin, meanwhile, is far too sleep-deprived and stressed over keeping Arthur safe and the prophecy to even think about romance or starting a family. His disaster bisexual ass has too much on his plate right now.)

So, Arthur tries everything he could think of to find Merlin a wife. Unfortunately, Arthur is not nearly as good of a wingman to Merlin as Merlin was to him. Arthur had hosted many balls and feasts, making sure to invite attractive ladies around Merlin's age, but Merlin didn't even bat an eye at any of them.

Perhaps the only thing more frustrating than Merlin's lack of attention towards any of the young ladies of the court was the fact that, now that Arthur was looking for signs of anyone's affection towards Merlin, he could see how many members of his own court were smitten with his manservant.

And Arthur was just baffled because how?! How was that possible?! That Merlin, a lanky beanpole of a man with a blinding smile and charming wit and unending loyalty and eyes he could get lost in...

Where was Arthur going with that? Oh right. Merlin, with all of the suaveness of a wet sock, was somehow the object of desire for most of the ladies in waiting. Arthur was entirely baffled by it.

And just when Arthur thought that it couldn't get any worse, it did. It got so much worse when his wife sat him down and started lecturing him for some sort of prejudice that he was showing against Merlin by pushing him towards a wife, because apparently Merlin's eyes didn't stray towards women at all.

Look, Arthur knew that some of his own knights preferred the company of men, and he wouldn't begrudge them something like that. To each their own. But if Camelot was going to still be standing for Arthur's heir, Merlin needed to sire a son of his own.

After Arthur explained to Gwen the situation that they were in with the great dragon still alive and Merlin's life being the only thing holding the beast back from destroying Camelot, Gwen also became grave with the realization that they were stuck without a solution that would keep Camelot safe for the next generations.

Arthur moped around for a few weeks, unable to think of a single solution for the situation he had found himself trapped in. How on earth was he supposed to get Merlin to have a biological son if Merlin doesn't even like women?!

Wait, but Merlin had liked a woman, at one point. Perhaps his preferences had changed, but at one point, he was willing to sacrifice himself, to willingly confess to sorcery in front of Uther Pendragon, in order to keep the woman he loved alive. And Arthur knew that love like that didn't die easily. And Arthur should know, since he loved the same woman in the same way.

From then on, Arthur kept a keen eye on Merlin and his wife. He knew that his wife would never be unfaithful to him with Merlin, and Merlin had been nothing but supportive towards Arthur and Gwen's relationship, even when Arthur himself had given up on it. Still, Arthur knew that if Merlin had eyes for one woman in the world, it would have to be Gwen. He saw the way that Merlin looked at Gwen sometimes. Merlin didn't look at any other woman that way.

Gwen had confessed that she had romantic feelings towards Merlin at one point, and Merlin certainly had some sort of feelings for Gwen that went beyond platonic. Arthur swallowed dryly as he thought about it. Could... could that be the only way?

(Cue slowburn Mergwenthur, with Arthur trying to set up Gwen and Merlin together with a heavy heart, while the other two are kinda oblivious and mistake it as Arthur wanting a threesome, which they would be more than happy to go along with, along with Arthur slowly realizing his own feelings for Merlin.)

(Meanwhile, since Arthur's crap at communicating, Merlin doesn't actually realize that it all started because they thought that they needed Merlin to have a son to keep Camelot safe from the dragon after Merlin was dead. Upon Arthur finally telling him, Merlin then has to awkwardly informs them that he's immortal and doesn't really need to sire an heir.

Arthur, understandably, screams into a pillow at the news that his efforts were pointless, while his lovers laugh gently at him and start kissing him to make up for all the stress he had to go through.)

And that's all for this au! I hoped you liked Arthur's himbo-ness shining through one again!

Thanks for reading through my ramblings! :D

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello there

Do you think Harry can be charismatic and charming? I see him having a bit of a silver tong and having the ability to bend people's will

See Slughorn and the gray lady, the boy can be quite manipulative

Hello, and YES! Yes, I definitely think he can be manipulative and a convincing liar. He's witty and as I mentioned here, many other characters see him as charismatic and leader material, even if he doesn't think of himself as such.

The example with Slughorn is great, we see our boy getting him drunk and reminiscing about Lily to get information out of him:

The Felix Felicis gave Harry a little nudge at this point, and he noticed that the supply of drink that Slughorn had brought was running out fast. Harry had not yet managed to bring off the Refilling Charm without saying the incantation aloud, but the idea that he might not be able to do it tonight was laughable: Indeed, Harry grinned to himself as, unnoticed by either Hagrid or Slughorn (now swapping tales of the illegal trade in dragon eggs) he pointed his wand under the table at the emptying bottles and they immediately began to refill. [...] Slughorn gave a great shudder, but he did not seem able to tear his horrified gaze away from Harry’s face. “He told her to get out of the way,” said Harry remorselessly. “He told me she needn’t have died. He only wanted me. She could have run.” “Oh dear,” breathed Slughorn. “She could have . . . she needn’t . . . That’s awful. . . .” “It is, isn’t it?” said Harry, in a voice barely more than a whisper. “But she didn’t move. Dad was already dead, but she didn’t want me to go too. She tried to plead with Voldemort . . . but he just laughed. . . .” “That’s enough!” said Slughorn suddenly, raising a shaking hand. “Really, my dear boy, enough . . . I’m an old man . . . I don’t need to hear . . . I don’t want to hear . . .” “I forgot,” lied Harry, Felix Felicis leading him on. “You liked her, didn’t you?”

(HBP, Ch22)

(As I've been saying for a while, Harry is super magically powerful and capable when he doesn't overthink things. Like, Felix Felicis makes you lucky, it doesn't make you more magically skilled or a better actor — that's all Harry. Also, a lot of what he says isn't just the Felix Felicis, Harry still needs to think what to say, the potion just gives him a nudge)

But it isn't the first or last time Harry does something like that. One of my favorite examples of his Slytherin tendencies is this scene from CoS:

“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?” It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. “We were — we were —” Ron stammered. “We were going to — to go and see —” “Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him. “We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron’s foot, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry —” Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice. “Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye.

(CoS, Ch16)

He doesn't even hesitate. Lying so well that McGonagall gets a bit teary-eyed. In OotP, he actually gets information out of Lucius in the ministry, getting him to talk both to buy time and get intel:

“You haven’t told me what’s so special about this prophecy I’m supposed to be handing over,” he said, playing for time. He moved his foot slowly sideways, feeling around for someone else’s. “Do not play games with us, Potter,” said Malfoy. “I’m not playing games,” said Harry, half his mind on the conversation, half on his wandering foot. And then he found someone’s toes and pressed down upon them. A sharp intake of breath behind him told him they were Hermione’s.

(OotP, Ch35)

Not to mention all the times he essentially tricks Hagrid into telling him things (even if Hagrid is an easier target).

His witty comebacks in many situations:

“Got plenty of special features, hasn’t it?” said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. “Shame it doesn’t come with a parachute — in case you get too near a dementor.” Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. “Pity you can’t attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy,” said Harry. “Then it could catch the Snitch for you.”

(PoA, Ch13)

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them. “Congratulations, Harry!” she said, beaming at him. “I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?” “Yeah, you can have a word,” said Harry savagely. “Good-bye.”

(GoF, Ch20)

“Why were you lurking under our window?” “Yes — yes, good point, Petunia! What were you doing under our window, boy?” “Listening to the news,” said Harry in a resigned voice. His aunt and uncle exchanged looks of outrage. “Listening to the news! Again?” “Well, it changes every day, you see,” said Harry. … “We know you’re up to something funny,” said Aunt Petunia. “We’re not stupid, you know,” said Uncle Vernon. “Well, that’s news to me,” said Harry, his temper rising

(OotP, Ch1)

Harry, of course, had endured their snide comments for more than four years, so whispers of, “Hey, Potty, I heard Warrington’s sworn to knock you off your broom on Saturday,” far from chilling his blood, made him laugh. “Warrington’s aim’s so pathetic I’d be more worried if he was aiming for the person next to me,” he retorted, which made Ron and Hermione laugh and wiped the smirk off Pansy Parkinson’s face.

(OotP, Ch19)

Malfoy glanced around. Harry knew he was checking for signs of teachers. Then he looked back at Harry and said in a low voice, “You’re dead, Potter.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Funny,” he said, “you’d think I’d have stopped walking around. . . .”

(OotP, Ch38)

Are further examples of Harry having a quick wit and a silver tongue when he wants/needs to. And, I love how the first time he asks Slughorn about the memory Harry is being a little shit and literally quoting Tom Riddle from the memory down to some of the mannerisms:

“Look sharp, Tom,” said Slughorn, turning around and finding him still present. “You don’t want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect . . .” “Sir, I wanted to ask you something.” “Ask away, then, m’boy, ask away. . . .” “Sir, I wondered what you know about . . . about Horcruxes?”

(HBP, Ch17)

“…Come on, now, Harry, you’ll be late for your next lesson,” said Slughorn affably, snapping the gold clasps shut on his dragon-skin briefcase. “Sir,” said Harry, reminding himself irresistibly of Voldemort, “I wanted to ask you something.” “Ask away, then, my dear boy, ask away. . . .” “Sir, I wondered what you know about . . . about Horcruxes?” Slughorn froze. His round face seemed to sink in upon itself. He licked his lips and said hoarsely, “What did you say?” “I asked whether you know anything about Horcruxes, sir. You see —” “Dumbledore put you up to this,” whispered Slughorn. His voice had changed completely. It was not genial anymore, but shocked, terrified.

(HBP, Ch18)

I mean, considering how we're told Tom Riddle was handsome, charming, and silver-tongued and we see Harry compared to him (in looks and charisma and mannerisms), by other characters including Tom and Harry in the above scene, I think it's safe to say Harry can be charismatic and silver-tongued. It comes with being witty and thinking quickly on his feet. (And being really used to lying when put on the spot).

That being said, Harry's temper, when it gets the better of him, makes him worse at this since he doesn't think before speaking. But, when he's calm or he's angry in his usual cold way that isn't a trauma response, yeah, he's manipulative and silver-tongued as the best of Slytherins. (I personally think Harry's more of a Slytherin than Draco, for example, who actually exhibits very few actual Slytherin traits even if he wished he did)

[inkskinned]

i'm used to it, and how bad it is, and how often it's so bad that it rings like a bell inside of me, drowning out everything around me. and the truth is that i get frustrated with myself about it - again? we're like this still? again? it's not that i feel weak, precisely. it's just this sense almost like - i've already been pushing against this thing for years now, shouldn't i have gained more ground?

i get frustrated because i'm sick of picking up the loose ends every six months. i get frustrated because it's always this same shit, same problem - i lose myself in a matter of months; spiral out of control, lose touch with friends and loved ones. i stop taking care of myself and therapy gets hard and i let everything around me wilt and shrivel and fall off; start somehow both sleeping too much and not-enough. i panic-attack and cry in my car in a target parking lot, pulling my hair out and hurting my ribs from sobbing so hard - and later, when i'm better, i'm embarrassed because how could i let it get that far?

it feels like - i already have done this so many times. isn't there a way out of it? isn't there a point where i've just... won? that it never happens again, that i just get to be done? maybe this is weakness, i guess - that i still (so often!) succumb.

i am used to it, so i forget exactly how hard it gets. do you even know how many times i've laid in bed, exhausted, blank and numb and listless and said - i can't anymore. i just can't. i'm not even really upset. it's okay. i've been here long enough. so much of my life was beautiful.... i'm just... done.

do you know how many times i woke up and i said - i can't and put my feet on the floor and said i can't, i don't want to and took a shower and walked the dog and bought myself fresh bread and put a nice playlist on and said i really can't, there's no end to this and i went to work and i called a friend and i made myself cookies even if food tasted like ashes and decided that i really should wait for the new album from that artist i love and i thought i can't, it's not worth it and then i washed my hands and cut my hair and drank more water and wrote a poem and signed up for an art class at the local community college and said i can't, i can't, i won't do this again, and i paid my rent and let the dishes rot in the sink but still made myself eat anything fresh even if it meant overdrawing my account on a stupid bag of plums just because they looked delicious and do you know how often i closed my eyes and thought this is it i really fucking can't, something has to give and i have nothing left that it can take and then i went to bed and i got up and i fucking survived anyway

yesterday the local ice cream place opened up for the first time this season and they were giving out tiny samples of their new dairy-free options and i tried a mango sorbet. three months ago i was positive that februrary was going to be my last month on the planet. i am teaching my dog a new trick and i just discovered a new band i love. i got a plant from the clearance aisle and repotted her and she's been perking up. i made salmon for alison and we ate it in her new house with her new beautiful baby girl. my manager told me he keeps recommending my work to others just because i always include a stupid number of puns. tomorrow i'm trying a new dance class. tomorrow i'm maybe going to buy more plums.

i forget, you know? it's not some bone-deep strength or some magical power. it's that some part of me knows - i need to stay. in all of this; out of all of this - i just want to choose love.

[httpsserene]

kinktober '23 table of contents

welcome to serene's f1 kinktober special! i do not know how many posts i will be doing for this event, but, reblog and save this masterlist for any updates concerning my f1 kinktober.

posts will be tagged with: # httpss :// kinktober 23 | status: completed.

view playlist? ↴

upload 1 : charles leclerc / max verstappen x reader | corruption kink

innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things.

upload 2 : carlos sainz jr x reader | were/wolf shifter & predator/prey

for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first.

upload 3 : oscar piastri x reader | car sex & squirting

your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren.

upload 4 : daniel ricciardo / max verstappen x reader | overstimulation

you can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. you understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. and then winter break comes around, and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind.

upload 5 : lewis hamilton x reader | tender sex & cockwarming

your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning.

upload 6 : george russell x reader | vampire & hickeys/biting

george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well.

upload 7 : pierre gasly x reader | witchcraft

witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work.

upload 8 : lando norris x reader | pussy worship

if lando achieved a podium at silverstone, you promised you’d give him anything he wants. he thinks about it the whole race weekend, and when the two of you are celebrating his second-place finish, he tells you that he wants to take care of you. you’re disbelieving–he takes care of you every waking hour. lando, on the other hand, said that with his chest. and he’ll prove it to you.

upload 9 : charles leclerc x reader | orgasm delay/denial

the 2023 season has had a despicable effect on charles’ self-worth. it pains you to see how he attributes ferrari’s failure to deliver to himself. you can’t stand to see him berate himself for things that are out of his control. when the emilia-romagna grand prix is understandably canceled, you start forming a plan. if charles doesn’t believe he’s as good as you say he is, you’ll make him internalize it–using any means necessary.

upload 10 : yuki tsunoda x reader | ab-riding/frottage

your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre.

© httpsserene 2023

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - V.3 - P.1

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, male! MC and crushing! male! NES (MC x NES)

Main Masterlist

Replaced MC AU/AU Masterlist (check the other versions and learn more about the NESs!)

Intro (gn!reader) , Part 2

CW: Solomon is mentioned, jealous and mean brothers, black cat x golden retriever behavior i think, one single kiss, a bit ambiguous at the end, not very angsty really, NES x MC centered

A/N: my favourite version of NES and MC by far, I enjoyed writing this a lot. However, my pc came out as homophobic and decided not to connect to any WiFi for this chapter, so I won't be able to update the links nor the masterlist until next week. Also, some people aren't properly tagged once again because I can't find their blogs for some reason?? So so sorry for that, but I don't know what to do about it.

.

NES was… someone they didn't expect. Unknowingly infuriating, always distracted and too unbothered to care about any of his surroundings. He was a disaster that enjoyed living in disaster and, if they weren't threatened by his presence, Satan and Belphegor would love his insolence.

Barbatos remembered an occasion, one moment from the second week of NES's attendance at RAD, where Lucifer gave him an earful for his ‘impropriety and insulting attitude towards the uniform’. Mammon had been there too, shirt out of his pants and jacket nowhere near closed, backing his brother up.

NES’s pristine appearance lasted only two periods before MC saw him chocking under his tie and laughed at him in sympathy. After that, he'd only wear the uniform ‘the Lucifer way’ if MC was there to eventually mess up the outfit.

And how could the eldest brother object to that?

“They need to loosen up, Lucifer”

MC always had the last word.

Solomon found the situation hilarious. Witnessing the brothers competing against each other in search of MC's attention was one thing, but adding NES to the equation? Yes, Barbatos had to somewhat agree. It was funny.

Who had been cooking for hours in the kitchen if not NES trying to make a quick snack for his fellow human? And who was the first one to leave the House of Lamentation each morning, already waiting next to MC’s seat by the time everyone else arrived?

Mammon called him a simp. Asmo liked to call them both the kettle and the pot.

And while, yes, Lucifer was the one and only Avatar of Pride, none of the brothers were able to admit just how big of a deal NES was becoming.

When would it be too late?

.

.

The Demon Prince's birthday arrived and the mandatory celebration was as grandiose as one could expect. Everything was bright and full of laughter, the streets cramped with food stalls, demons and witches alike throwing mesmerizing magic tricks for the children, acrobats, costumes, music…

At one point MC considered handcuffing himself to NES. Even Luke was easier to manage!

Fortunately, Beel ended up finding him playing darts with a succubus and her partners. Unfortunately, MC seemed to be the only one who wanted to check if he was okay.

It was becoming… draining.

Not NES, of course. Sure, he was a handful, but none of his mistakes were intentional. Everything he did came from naiveness and ignorance, being new to the Devildom, and what he lacked in common sense he made up in enthusiasm.

At least he didn't steal his valuables and he’d never threatened to kill him or eat his heart, something MC still thought about frequently. The worst thing NES ever did to him was throw them both to the ground when he tried to slide on the floor at full speed. And he still apologized for that from time to time.

Did the brothers ever apologize for all the things they did or said? The way they used to look at him? He couldn't remember.

Now they were doing the exact same thing to NES. Treating him like an unwanted guest instead of the roommate they insisted on having, turning down every single one of his ideas, including the good ones, and very passively threatening him in a condescending tone, as if they could impress MC with that.

Maybe it was a demon thing? Or rather regular jealousy brought to a dangerous level?

Whatever the reason, MC didn't waste any time sitting them in the living room and chewing the hell out of them, something that enraged Lucifer and put a strain in their relationship, still making it difficult to make small talk, but of course none of them would back down. The rest of the brothers weren't so obvious showing their annoyance, but it was still there.

The good thing was that, as long as MC was there, NES wouldn't be the receiving end of any bullshit. The bad thing was that MC didn't know what was going on behind his back. And NES, bless his soul, was never willing to tell him if any of them made him uncomfortable.

It was draining and NES gave him a sense of peace, but the brothers missed him and they wanted to monopolize his time, but MC wanted to spend time with his new friend and that made the brothers angry and jealous, which made MC anxious, which made NES worry.

Every factor made the situation worse. The brothers were too much, NES was too good for the Devildom and MC was too done with everything.

However, the time passed surprisingly fast as they sang Happy Birthday to Diavolo, eating in the midst of it all, dancing with each other and talking like they used to do before the ridiculous ordeal, albeit with a subtle tension that limited their topics of conversation.

They even ignored NES! Which was better than any other option!

So, once the voices toned down and the guests divided themselves into small groups, MC forced himself to whisk Diavolo away for a moment and have a serious talk, Barbatos following close and listening with a curious glance.

That proved to be nothing but a waste of time.

“It's too soon to take conclusions, MC. I'm sure the brothers just need time. After all, remember your first year here!”

He did remember. That's why he was so worried.

And why did Diavolo talk to him like that? He was 100% sure Lucifer insulted NES to no end anytime he had more than one horn of Demonus. What did they call NES in the privacy of their office? What did they think while they talked to him and faked respect? What were they plotting when they looked MC in the eyes and promised him they wouldn't threaten NES anymore?

Too many lies.

“Alo?”

But then… NES smiled so easily… Like none of that bothered him. Luckily, MC didn't mind caring in his behalf. He wondered if being able to save someone from the fate he had last year was the root of all his actions.

“You look so worried, you're gonna get all wrinkly! Not like you'd look bad, but if you're going to have wrinkles, won't you rather have them in your eyes? Like, from smiling too much, you know?”

He did smile then, imitating NES’s caring expression.

“There you are, handsome! You're gonna be the envy of all in 90 years!”

“Do you really think I'm going to live that much?”

“God, I hope so”

They laughed softly, but it still sounded too loud. MC looked out for the brothers, checking their positions in the ballroom before grabbing NES’s hand and dragging him to one of the balconies. He preferred not having the moment tarnished.

“Good idea! Too hot in there…"

“Don't lie to me”

“Wha…?”

MC stared at him quite sternly, although trying not to look to much like Lucifer, but he needed an answer.

“Do they still bother you? Do they threaten you? Do they ignore you? What do they do?”

“Whoa, whoa, MC. Here comes the frown again…”

He raised his hands, caressing MC’s frown until it softened. His touch was warm and soft and it made MC lean towards him, not wanting it to end. When he opened his eyes again, unknowingly closing them before, NES stayed in that position.

There was silence for a few seconds, interrupted only by the violins, the harps, the pianos and other instruments serenading them under the moonlight. NES could only stare at MC’s lips for a fragment of a second before someone grabbed the scruff of their necks with poorly hidden aggressiveness and brought them back to the ballroom.

MC raised his gaze in fury, bending down to help NES get up again. He expected to see red eyes and black feathers, but, to his surprise, what stared back at him were purple eyes and a long bovine tail.

He wanted to scream at him, to ask what the actual fuck was wrong with him. Would he had acted the same if it was one of his brothers instead of NES? Would he had such hate in his eyes?

But people were staring, very obviously amused at the sight of two humans being put back in place.

MC would have to wait.

.

.

“NES! What happened?!”

MC watched as the boy waved at him, hanging upside down where Mammon usually spent countless hours. His arms were tied behind his back and the rope covered his body in a way that surely left no room for the blood to circulate properly. His head already looked dangerously red and MC knew he couldn't leave him there for too long unless he wanted him to have permanent damage.

“I think I failed my last test, but I don't really remember”

“What do you mean you don't remember?”

“Well, I'm very dizzy right now, but I'm sure it's okay. Lucifer will get me out of here soon enough”

Or he won't.

MC sighed, cursing in silence before studying the thick ropes and the tight knots. He knew he wouldn't be able to untie him by hand and he wouldn't be surprised if the kitchen suddenly lacked knives, no doubt the result of Lucifer's pettiness and sadism.

“Wait for me here, okay? I have to get something to cut the ropes…”

“Wait, wait! MC!”

He turned around, patiently staring at his loopy smile and cloudy eyes. He couldn't wait for too long, but maybe he could indulge a couple of minutes.

“What?”

NES briefly looked away, his embarrassment gaining MC’s attention. Now that was a rare sight.

“Have you seen Spiderman?”

His heart stopped for a second and he felt his cheeks getting hot. His hand, previously grasping his hip, fell to his side and made him lose balance.

“You can say no, of course. We can forget about this and I won't get offended. A little sad maybe, but I can manage. I like you too much to stop liking you for a kiss. Does that sound weird? You get me, right?”

His rambling gave MC the opportunity to go down a couple of steps in the staircase and align his face in front of NES’s. The position was weird and staring at his chin was an experience he didn't know he would get the chance to live, but he didn't care.

It wasn't until he finally kissed him mid-sentence that he noticed a figure peeking around the corner, eyes staring without blinking and jealousy ready to made itself known.

Accepting the challenge, MC closed his eyes and grasped NES’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Dinner that night would be fucking awkward.

.

.

.

Taglist: : @stfuchaase @k1-an @meggs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006 @jonielunar @piercedddriver @cosmidaydreaming @bluegrey02 @anxious-chick

[miserableworm]

Hiiii !! Would it be alright to ask for a lyney x reader where he comforts you when you’re sick/period? Thank you <33

★ a/n - thank you sm for the request <3 getting taken care of when not feeling well gotta be one of the best feelings ever so this was pretty fun to write

★ sypnosis - Lyney had a show come up, but your period had other plans for the evening.

★ tags - Lyney x fem!reader, comfort, fluff, period (no mentions of blood), cramps

"I can't go to your magic show tonight," you whisper, feeling a pang of guilt. The discomfort from your period cramps is almost unbearable, and the idea of sitting through a performance seems impossible.

Lyney, who had been adjusting his magician's hat, turns to you with a concerned look. "Oh? And why is that?" he asks gently, though you can see a teasing glint in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to tell him. "It's just... I'm not feeling well. My period started, and the cramps are really bad."

Lyney's expression softens even more. "Ah, I see," he says, nodding knowingly. "Lynette has those too sometimes. Say no more." Then, with a mischievous grin, he adds, "Though I must admit, I thought you might be avoiding my grand finale. It is quite dazzling, you know."

You manage a weak smile and rolled your eyes at him. "As if I'd ever miss one of your shows by choice."

He steps closer, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and amusement. "Let me take care of you," he says softly. "The magic show can wait."

"Lyney, you can't just miss your show because of me," you protest. "People are expecting you. They'll be disappointed."

Lyney waves a hand dismissively. "Nonsense. The show will go on without me. My assistants are more than capable. Besides, what's more important right now is making sure you're comfortable."

"But Lyney-"

"No buts!"

Before you can protest further, he's already in motion. Lyney heads to the kitchen and returns with a hot water bottle. "This should help with the cramps," he explains, placing it gently on your stomach. The warmth spreads, bringing a measure of relief almost immediately.

"Thank you.." you murmur, touched by his thoughtfulness.

Lyney isn't done yet. He disappears for a moment, then comes back with a small box. "Here," he says, handing it to you. Inside are your favorite snacks and some herbal tea. "I always keep these things ready, just in case," he adds with a wink. "Lynette taught me well."

You can't help but smile, feeling a bit of the heaviness lift. "You really didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"Of course, I did," Lyney replies, sitting beside you. "You're important to me. Besides, magic isn't just about tricks and illusions. It's about making people feel better, making them smile. If I can do that off stage as well, then I'm happy."

"You're so cheesy."

As you sip the tea, Lyney begins to tell you stories about his adventures and mishaps with Lynette. His voice is soothing, and soon you're laughing despite the discomfort.

"But really, Lyney," you say, interrupting his tale about a mishap with disappearing doves, "you should go. The audience will miss you. They'll be wondering where their favorite magician is."

Lyney raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Y/N? Because if you are, it's not working. I can be quite stubborn when I want to be."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "No, I just don't want you to get in trouble or disappoint your fans."

"Trust me," he says, leaning in closer, "the only person I care about disappointing right now is you. And I know you need me more than they do at this moment."

Before you can argue further, he pulls out a deck of cards and begins performing a series of close-up magic tricks right there. His fingers move with mesmerizing skill, each trick more astonishing than the last. For a while, you're completely absorbed, forgetting about the cramps entirely.

Seeing your smile, Lyney gets up and performs another trick. This time, he makes a coin appear from behind your ear and then disappear in a flash of light. As you clap softly, he bows dramatically.

"And for my next act," he says, reaching into his pocket for another prop. But when he looks up, he sees your eyes closed, your breathing even and peaceful.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Was I that boring?" he murmurs playfully.

Quietly, he tucks the blanket more snugly around you and stands up, careful not to wake you. Stepping closer, he gently places a kiss on your forehead.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N. "

requests are open <3

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side

part 2 is out! part 3! part 4!

whaddya know, i already have my first piece of writing that's not for an rp. it's a mess, but that's okay, because i admit i have no clue what i'm doing! i welcome all feedback as long as it's not just plain mean. when i asked for writing ideas, i was suggested to try my spin on the twst bully!au, and so i present: reader/yuu is done with their bs. no beta we die like my sleep schedule. genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, slight yandere that hasn't escalated yet word count:896

You’d had enough, thank you very much. The constant jeers, “misplaced” textbooks, and shoves in the hallway were only the beginning. Before long, you were beaten and bruised, and all for what? Just because you didn’t have magic? According to your research, the majority of the population here didn’t either! But alas, such was your plight. The professors turned a blind eye, and Crowley couldn’t care less.

So, when someone “accidentally” dislocated your shoulder during PE, you decided enough was enough. The students you’d never bothered to learn the names of were one thing; you were going to call your former friends out on their bullshit. Despite Grim’s protests, you dragged him all the way back to Ramshackle the moment you had a break in between classes. Why that timing? Because the model student prefect would never cut class, of course!

You locked the door not once, not twice, but three times, thanks to the padlocks you’d had placed on your stuff in the past. Then you took your time creating the Junk Tower. Your materials were all the scraps people had thrown in your yard in the past. You had quite the collection. The windows? They’d been boarded for years, according to the ghosts. Back door? Kalim had it removed. Something about first years sneaking in. You figure it’s better not to ask how he managed to have a door seamlessly replaced with walls in one afternoon.

About twenty minutes after the last class of the day ended, you had your first knock on the door. “Oi, prefect, open up!” Ace demanded. Because of course it was Ace. He was the first student you met here, so it was only fitting that he’d be the first to know you weren’t fucking around anymore. You ignored him.

The knocking stopped “Oi Ace, maybe they’re not home?” Deuce, ever the voice of reason, pondered. You weren’t sure whether to love or hate him. He’d stop others from picking on you, sure, but the moment you disobeyed him, he went back to his old delinquent ways.

“Well, they weren’t in class, and there’s no way my prefect’s with someone else, so they’ve gotta be inside!” Ace insisted. His prefect? Since when were you his? Did Ace eat something funny while you were gone? Because the last you checked, he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

Deuce’s voice dropped an octave, or maybe two. You weren’t too sure how that applied to speaking voices. “Oi, Ace, what the fuck do you mean your prefect? They don’t belong to you!” Yes, thank you for the reality check. Deuce must’ve had the brain cell today. “Obviously I’m way closer to them than you are!”

Scratch that. Deuce did not have the brain cell today. Really though, what was with them? Why in the world were they fighting over who was closer to you when all they’d done lately was make it clear how much they hated you? Oh, wait. They thought you could hear them. This must be some sort of trick. Trey and Cater must’ve put them up to it, since they were far too dumb to think of anything this elaborate on their own. You decided to ignore everything they said from here on out.

All was well, until Adeuce simultaneously let out an ungodly screech. Now that was troublesome. What could possibly scare those two like that? Surely nothing good for you. With luck, it’d be Riddle come to behead them for not wearing fluorescent pink or some other dumb rule, but you wouldn’t bet on it.

You soon had your answer. “Ne, where’s Shrimpy? I wanna squeeze ‘em!” Suddenly you didn’t blame those two for being scared. Floyd Leech in a bad mood was always a force to be reckoned with. You could never tell if he was in a good or bad mood when he was “squeezing” you, and quite frankly, you’d rather not know. The sick fucker probably took pleasure in hearing your bones pop and crack under the extreme pressure.

“Floyd-senpai! The prefect is, uh, we’re not actually sure where they are,” Ace volunteered. You almost pitied him, having to put up with the more rambunctious Leech during basketball practice. Almost.

“Hah? What do you mean you don’t know? Crabby is always crowding around Shrimpy like a little parasite,” Floyd whined. Um, what? Is Floyd in on the joke too? Is the whole school conspiring against you? You wouldn’t put it past them.

A cloud of dust blew up from the floor where you swung your foot back and forth, making you sneeze. You froze. Did they hear that? Wait, what were you acting so scared for? What were they gonna do anyway, break the door down and hit you? All within your expectations when you’d formed this plan. The point was to prove that you wouldn’t just sit and take it anymore. You’d seen all their dirty little secrets, especially during the Overblots; you could hit them where it hurt if you felt like it. No one would ever think the perfect little prefect would tell someone else what they’d confided in them! So when Floyd broke the door down with a display of monstrous strength, you were prepared. You greeted them with a smile. “Ne, you guys,” you began, “would you believe me if I told you I’m done with your bullshit?”

[hotluncheddie]

For the @steddie-spooktober day 17 prompt : hayride

rated: T | cw: none | tags: Steve Harrington owns a farm, Eddie Munson is a clown, fluff

🤡🤡🤡🤡

Steve is on the last leg of the days final hay ride rout. It’s been another weekend of setting up and making sure all the stalls are covered with their seasonal workers, checking in with health and safety and ensuring the entertainers got the newest version of the final Halloween themed weekend schedule, before everything shifts to the Christmas holiday themes.

But it went off without a hitch, another solid season overall.

The farm had been his passion project. Built thanks to his Grandad’s sudden death and meticulous stipulations that all his money go to his only grandson. Freeing Steve completely from under his father’s thumb and allowing him breathing space to finally do something he enjoyed. Even if he is using the business degree his Dad bullied him into, it’s definitely not the route his father wanted for his life.

But Steve loves it. Every moment. Working outside, with people he trusts, like Robin who runs the creative side, marketing a decorating and generally making the place look amazing. Being an honest to god farmer, much to his mother’s chagrin gives him a real sense of purpose and pride, every pumpkin he manages to grow is like a pat on the back.

And, privately, Steve gets to give kids the kind of memories that he could only dream of when he was younger. And that’s worth more than anything.

That last thing is part of the reason why he so often spends the last couple hours of opening running the hay ride. He gets to hear the families and kids enjoy their time together, react to the view and the wooden characters Robin painted, huddle into their coats and snuggle in close. It’s magic. Steve loves it. So he drives the tractor as often as he can.

It’s great. He loves his life, he really does. But, unfortunately, it can’t all be perfect. This season in particular has had one little problem. One bit of danger.

The danger which just so happens to be the first thing he sees as he rounds the last bend of the hay ride. Eddie. Their newest entertainment hire and the thorn in Steve’s side.

He’s way too hot for Steve to be any kind of normal around him.

A honest to god clown. With tricks and magic and jokes and songs. With his little autumn themed outfit and matching makeup. Steve’s heard nothing but good things about him, a shoe in to be rehired every season going forward. The crowds can’t get enough of the guy.

Which is all great. If Steve didn’t have a disgustingly huge crush on him.

Even dressed fully in his clown paint and outfit he’s hot.

It really shouldn’t be hot.

But it is.

And Steve can’t even think about what he looks like in his normal clothes because he could honestly start to get hard thinking about it. The guy is insane.

Not to mention one of the kindest sweetest people ever. To everyone, but it seems to Steve especially. He can’t count the amount of times Eddie’s made him blush just from being so sweet or a little flirty or a little tease.

So really, it’s been hell, the whole season, because I Steve can’t work out a way of asking the guy out that doesn’t make him come off as some creepy boss.

And now Eddie’s there, waiting for Steve at the end of the hay ride. And Steve has no damn clue why.

Steve parks and opens the gate for people to file out. Waving and thanking them for coming, hoping to see them soon.

He stalls until everyone is gone, until the section of farm is empty except the two of them.

Steve bites his lip, jumping up to grab the tractor keys so he can have another moment not looking at Eddie.

Eventually though, he turns, smiles. ‘You good man?’ He asks.

Eddie nods. Looking fidgety. He’s still in his clown makeup but his costume’s been replaced with black jeans and a padded flannel.

Steve crosses his arms and tries not to think about that way the denim stretches over his thighs.

Eddie takes a deep breath. ‘I know you’re my boss and all. But, well, my last shift just finished and I would love if you extended my contract, seriously, but. I’d honestly kick myself if I didn’t at least try.’ Eddie says in a rush.

Steve scrunches his eyebrows.

Eddie revels a bouquet of balloon flowers from behind his back, shy through the face paint, biting his red lip.

Steve is lost for words, mouth opening and closing dumbly.

This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to him.

‘This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.’ He says, dumbfounded.

Eddie smiles, his whole face lighting up. ‘Steve Harrington, will you please go on a date with me?’ He asks.

Steve laughs, takes the flowers and sniffs them just to hear Eddie’s giggle. ‘Yeah.’ He whispers. ‘I’d really like that.’

🤡🤡🤡🤡

Tag list: @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @thecatkingsthrone @marvel-ous-m

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots

[sarahscribbles]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤: 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞!𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟓𝐤

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Let me submit to you.” 

Loki’s plea is soft against your lips, it’s little more than a whisper and almost lost amidst a heavy haze of unbroken kisses. You’re breathless in their wake - drunk and warm and so dazed from his affections that you can only manage a questioning “hmm?” while you attempt to pull him closer. 

He allows it but keeps his lips frustratingly out of reach. A whine tumbles pitifully from yours because the taste of him still lingers on your tongue like salty summer air. You want to drown in this man, but he only rests his forehead against yours. You feel his hands curl around your hips and he breathes in as though readying himself for what he’s about to say. 

It makes your heart flutter, though with excitement or apprehension, you aren’t really sure. 

“I yield, darling. I yield to you,” he says quietly. His hands squeeze your hips at the same time his thumbs begin to trace circles on the exposed skin of your stomach. 

A trail of goosebumps erupts in the wake of his touch and, at first, you think it’s another one of his tricks. Loki’s always been the dominant one and, although your own dominant side has lived quietly inside you, you hadn’t believed a submissive one lived within him. 

But when you meet his eyes - those beautiful green eyes that you would know anywhere - you know that he’s never meant anything more. He’s yearning to give up control and it causes something molten to stir to life in the pit of your stomach. 

How many times have you imagined how sweet it would sound to hear Loki begging? Or how beautiful he would look on his knees before you? How often have you imagined his pleasure being in your hands and what you would have him do to earn it? The answer is too many to count.

And now he’s offering it up to you entirely of his own accord.

It’s both the fulfilment of a fantasy and the deepest expression of trust.

It’s something you can’t possibly deny him. 

You hesitate briefly, but only because you don’t know where to start with him. You’ve imagined this scenario so many times - how you could coax him into admitting he wanted to be dominated and the heady feeling of the power balance shifting - but now that he’s offered it up to you freely, you have no idea what to do. Loki notices your hesitance - of course he does - and gives your hips another light squeeze.

“Please, darling.” He raises his eyes to yours and the trust shining out of them almost takes your breath away. 

He trusts you with this, with this part of that you know few have ever seen. He trusts you enough to submit his body to you with certainty that you won’t hurt him. He trusts you.

You press one last lingering kiss to his lips - a “thank you for trusting me” and a promise that he’s safe - and step back from his embrace. “Strip, and get on your knees.” Your voice is steadier than you imagined, so much so that you feel yourself easily slipping into the role of dominant. In front of you, Loki’s lips twitch and you see him raise a hand to dissolve his clothing in a haze of green. “No.” You stop him. “No magic. Strip.”

His eyes blaze fiercely as they catch yours - it’s unmistakable arousal at how you’re the one taking control. “As my Queen commands,” he replies. His voice is smooth as silk as it wraps around you, but there’s something else colouring his words tonight. 

It takes only a moment for you to pin it as obedience. 

Appreciatively, you watch him pull his sweater over his head. It’s a mundane action, but one that Loki can easily make look elegant. Piece by piece his abs and stomach are bared before you, and your eyes follow hungrily along all the way to the planes of his chiseled chest. The man is a word of art. 

And he’s yours. 

Loki’s gaze never breaks from yours as his fingers move down to unbutton his jeans, barely even blinking as he pushes them off and tosses them to the side. He repeats the action with his boxers until he’s fully nude before you. 

And already halfway hard. 

You’ve seen him like this a million times before, but you can’t help but drink him in. From his muscled calves all the way to the light smattering of hair on his chest. “Beautiful,” you can’t help but murmur. “Now, kneel.” 

Part of you expects Loki to be brat, expects a small dose of resistance despite how badly he wants this, but he folds easily to his knees the moment the command leaves your lips. God, he looks exquisite. Those firm thighs are tucked beneath him and spread wide, and he’s folded his hands behind his back without having to be told. 

The perfect picture of submission. 

“Good boy.” They’re two small words, but you catch the small twitch of Loki’s cock as you speak. Your prince, it seems, likes to be praised. 

Wordlessly, you circle him. He kneels up a little straighter and you feel the suspense rolling off him in waves. Oh, you’re going to have so much fun with him. 

“What should I do to you, hmm?” you ask softly, stopping behind him to drop a kiss to the top of his head while your hands rest on his shoulders. “Should I edge you until you’re begging? Should I make you watch as I make myself cum? Should I use that whip that you enjoy using on me so much?”

You trail your fingers softly over his shoulders and he shivers beneath your touch. “Whatever pleases you, my Queen. I am at your service,” he answers almost instantly, surprising you with how deep his submissiveness runs. 

It sparks an idea in you, though. 

“Mmm, yes you are,” you say, dropping another kiss to his head and moving to stand in front of him. Gently, you cup his flushed cheeks until those beautiful eyes are peering up at you. “Colour?” 

“Green,” he answers quickly. 

“Safeword?”

“Red.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, feeling him press into the palm of your hand. He knows he’s safe. “Good boy,” you praise him with a last kiss to his forehead.

His eyes bore into your back as you take the few steps toward the large chest beneath the window that houses all your toys. You make a show of sifting through the contents, noisily moving around various vibes and clamps and pieces of plastic until you know the waiting is driving him insane. As you expect, he’s staring at you intently when you straighten and turn, but his eyes immediately drop to the three items you’re holding in your hands. 

A length of rope, a collar, and a metal leash. 

His cock twitches and he licks his lips.

“Excited by a little rope?” you tease, coming back to kneel behind him. “I hadn’t realised you were such a whore.” You loop the rope around his wrists just as a quiet moan escapes him. You grin. “Oh, I see,” you purr, leaning in to nip at his neck. “You like being my whore.”

There’s a catch in his breathing and he briefly sways on his knees. How badly you wish you could see the fantasy playing out behind his eyes. “Y-yes,” he answers huskily. It’s followed quickly by a deep, satisfied moan when you again nip at his neck. 

You finish securing the first knot around his wrists and let your hand snake around his hips to circle his cock. Loki reacts with a broken cry of pleasure at your touch, but you stroke him slowly, languidly, with only enough pressure to tease. 

“My pretty prince,” you murmur softly, running your tongue over the broken line of bites decorating his neck. Loki keens and attempts to roll his hips into your hand, desperate for more friction. “My beautiful Asgardian whore.”

You give him four firm strokes, enough that his chest begins to heave and black curls dance along his back. “Please…darling…please…I need…,” he whimpers. 

“What is it you want, my love?” you taunt him. “Do you want to cum?” 

He nods eagerly, sending more curls spilling down his back. “Yes…please, darling.” 

“Too bad,” you say simply and remove your hand from his cock. Loki responds with something between a groan and a sob, and you watch his fingers curl with frustration against his back.  “You didn’t think I would make it that easy for you, did you?”

Between his deep, steadying breaths, you swear you hear a muttered “minx.” 

“Careful,” you whisper quietly into his ear. “I’m the one in charge tonight, remember? Are you going to be a good boy? Or, do I need to think of a way to punish you?” 

He’s silent for a moment, likely weighing up his options, so you give his cock another swift stroke. “No!” he shouts, whether in fear or at the sudden pulse of pleasure you aren’t sure. “I’ll be good!” 

You release his cock, but hum approvingly into his neck, breathing in the scent of him. “Good,” you say simply, and place another sharp bite just above his pulse point. 

You hear his shaky inhale and feel him shudder as you lean back. He doesn’t move an inch while you wind the rope easily around his arms in an intricate pattern of loops, doesn’t even test the strength of the binding when you bring it up over his elbows. He’s completely immobilised, completely at your mercy, and trusting you completely with his body. 

Your good boy. 

With a final check that he can wriggle his fingers, you move to stand in front of him again. Loki’s face is flushed pink with arousal and his eyes are dancing with anticipation. They flick expectantly between your face and the collar held in your hands, almost as if he’s begging you to place it around his neck. 

You realise then that he wants this. He wants the physical reminder that he’s yours. He needs it, needs the assurance it brings that someone loves him enough to want him wholly, that someone desires him enough to claim his body as theirs. 

He craves this level of submission. 

With one hand you brush some stray curls away from his face, allowing yourself a second to just enjoy the softness of his hair. “Who do you belong to, my love?” you murmur softly while unclapsing the collar. 

Loki is instantly angling his head to grant you access, eager - and almost impatient - to have the cool leather wrap around his neck. “You, my Queen. Only you,” he breathes out, and you hear his quiet groan when you snap the collar closed. 

You cup his cheek lovingly in the palm of your hand. “Are you going to be good for me?” 

Loki nods eagerly. “Yes.”

You run the pad of your thumb over his flushed cheek. “Good, because only good boys get their reward,” you tell him sweetly and attach the leash to the clip on his collar. 

With the other end in hand, you back towards the bed and perch on the edge, ensuring to spread your legs obscenely wide. Loki barely blinks as you flip your skirt up and dip your fingers below the band of your underwear, and you make sure to exaggerate how good your own fingers feel. 

You moan and arch your back; you throw your head back on your shoulders; you dig your grip into the bed covers between your free hand, which only pulls the leash around Loki’s neck tighter. 

For the briefest of moments, you’re so lost to chasing your own pleasure that you forget about the god on his knees for you. It’s the quiet clink of metal that pulls you back - a sign of Loki’s restlessness and desperation - and you open your eyes to look at him with a lazy smirk. 

“Something wrong?” you tease him, lazily circling your clit with a single finger. 

Something close to a whine falls from his lips, and you can see the desperation burning in his eyes. “Please, my Queen,” Loki begs. You refuse to believe there’s any sound sweeter than his begging. 

“Please, what? What do you want, my love?” Your voice is soft and sweet as honey. You know you’re playing a dangerous game - one that you’ll likely pay for in the very near future - but you can’t pass up the chance to play this game with him. 

After all, he’s played it with you so many times before. 

There’s another quiet clink of the leash as he shifts on his knees, but he doesn’t dare move without your permission. “I want to fuck you. Please, darling,” he pleads, the rough edge to his voice betraying just how badly he wants to fuck you.

You answer with a click of your tongue. “Oh, my love, why didn’t you say so?” Your words are taunting as you wrap the cold metal of the leash around your hand, tugging it to encourage him to shuffle toward you on his knees. 

The sight is sinful - this Asgardian god who refused to kneel for anyone is naked, bound, and collared before you, and shuffling on his knees because you’ve told him to. 

It sends a rush of power shooting straight to your head. 

You continue to pull gently at his leash until his head is between your spread thighs. Loki’s eyes are alight and blazing with hunger, but he goes still the second you let your hand fall back on the mattress. He’s desperate - a quick glance down confirms it - but he won’t move an inch with your permission. 

“Go on, then. Fuck me with that pretty mouth of yours. They do call you silvertongue, don’t they?” you say sweetly.

You expect the first flint of defiance to show, but he obediently bends his head to take the band of your underwear between his teeth, all while never taking his gaze off yours. 

You help him only briefly by lifting your hips from the bed to allow him to drag the thin scrap of lace over your thighs. The soft nudge of his nose against your skin has your pussy clenching with need, and it’s enough to make you bite back a groan. 

It never fails to amaze you how he can make something so small feel so good.

It doesn’t take long before Loki has dragged your underwear down your legs, though not without pressing a lopsided kiss to the bend of your knee. Once he tosses them carelessly to the side, he’s all too quickly bending back ravenously toward your cunt, but you stop him with a firm hand against his head. 

“You have five minutes to make me cum,” you tell him simply. “If you don’t, then you don’t get your reward. Understood?”

In the brief silence that follows, you’re sure that this is where he’ll push back. You wait for the shimmer of green that will release him from his restraints and send you slamming back against the mattress. 

But you were wrong.

“Yes, my Queen,” he answers huskily.

Your lips twist into a satisfied smile. “Good boy,” you say slowly, using the leash to steer him toward your throbbing cunt. 

A strangled groan tumbles from you the second you feel the wet warmth of his tongue because there’s no feeling comparable to that of this god worshipping you with his mouth. Every firm press of his tongue against you is a sacred prayer, every latch of his lips is a hymn of adoration. 

Tonight, he cares only for you and your pleasure, even if it means the denial of his own. 

His name is rolling easily off your tongue as the first sparks of your orgasm begin to shoot through you. He’s sinfully talented with that tongue, but you know it’s the closest you’ll ever get to heaven. Almost of its own accord your hand tangles in his hair, anchoring him firmly against you as he slips his tongue inside. 

You swear you die right there on the bed. 

All at once every nerve ending in your body is alive, but you feel yourself go almost boneless at the same time. He feels so good - so gloriously good - that you can longer sit up straight on the bed. You fall back against the mattress with a soft thump, feeling Loki’s proud grin against your cunt when you begin to grind against his face. 

“Fuck, Loki! Please! Just like that!” you encourage him breathlessly. His tongue is lapping firmly along your cunt and over your clit, making stars begin to dance at the edge of your vision. 

Your pleasure is his driving force, his end goal, and all it takes is a few more swipes of his tongue before the first powerful waves of your orgasm begin to roll over you like a tsunami. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s overpowering, seemingly endless, and you can feel it all the way down to your toes.

Loki makes sure of that. 

He doesn’t ease off for a second, even when your cries of his name melt into sharp little pants of pleasure. Even then, he still uses that skilled tongue to guide you seamlessly through the aftershocks of your climax.

You’re certain you could come again easily, but the wet warmth of Loki’s mouth is suddenly gone and you fight the urge to beg him for more. 

You’re the one in control, afterall. 

Wordlessly, you prop yourself up on your elbows, taking in the sight of Loki still kneeling between your thighs. His cheeks are brilliantly pink and his lips are still shining with your essence. Beneath some stay curls, you see undisguised pride burning in his eyes.

“Three minutes, my Queen,” he says, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at his lips. 

It would be all too easy for him to tip the scales in his own favour, to pluck the power easily from your hands.

But that won’t do. 

You sit up in one fluid movement to grasp hold of the leash right where it clips to his collar, delighting in the momentary widening of his eyes. “Were you keeping count, my little whore?” you taunt him sweetly, letting a hand float to his cock. He closes his eyes and groans when you begin to slowly, lazily, stroke him. “Or, maybe, you’re just feeling a little needy tonight? Which is it, hmm?” 

Loki tries to speak - you can see his answer dancing on the tip of his tongue - but with your hand still stroking his cock he can only mouth wordlessly. You grant him a second of enjoying the waifish tendrils of pleasure that are curling around him, but when he still doesn’t answer and his eyes begin to flutter closed, you squeeze him lightly, to which he answers with a shout. 

“Answer me, sweet,” you warn him. 

Loki inhales deeply, steadying himself. “I…fuck…I need you, my Queen….ugh…please!” he pleads when you run your thumb teasingly around the sensitive head of his cock. 

You smirk as he groans, but don’t cease in the torment. “Mmm, you sound so pretty when you beg. Keep going, and I might give you your reward.”

He releases a huff of frustration, but you know he’s too far gone now. You have him exactly where you want him. “Please…please, darling…have mercy. I’ve been good…please…I need you.” 

Those big eyes are peering up at you again, soft and desperate and begging for release. While you would relish teasing him for hours, you’re as desperate for him as he is for you. You release his cock - and he whines pitifully when you do - but relief flashes joyfully in his eyes when you use the leash to coax him to his feet. 

“I believe you. That looks rather uncomfortable,” you say, nodding to his cock and shuffling backward on the bed. “What if I’m not finished with you, though?” you continue to taunt him, guiding him onto the mattress until he’s kneeling between your spread legs. 

“Darling, please.” His voice is throaty and rough.

He’s so beautiful like this. Restrained and desperate and begging you for release. It’s the only aphrodisiac you need and you’re now determined that he’ll be submitting to you more once tonight is over. 

Your pretty, desperate prince.

His gaze is hungry as it runs over you, even though you’re still partially closed and he’s taken you to bed more times than you can count. 

He can never get enough of you. 

You pretend not to hear his pleading and settle back against the pillows with a contented hum. It’s impossible to do anything but drink him in as you lie there - the taut muscles of his stomach, the broad chest, the way his black curls fall almost effortlessly around his shoulders in a midnight halo. He’s perfection. 

You see the small twitch of his shoulders as you admire him, and you can almost feel the unspoken plea burning off him. “Remove the rope, my love,” you tell him softly. 

In a shimmer of green it’s gone, but he still keeps his hands folded obediently behind his back - ever the perfect picture of submission to his queen. 

“Such a good boy for me,” you purr, resting your hands on his forearms. “I’m very proud of you, my love. You’ve done so well tonight.” 

Loki’s chest puffs out with pride and you see the fresh dusting of pink that paints his pale cheeks. 

Wordlessly, you guide his hands from behind his back to rest them on your sides. His fingers twitch impatiently against the fabric of your shirt, desperate to feel your bare skin beneath his. “Undress me,” you whisper, stroking his arms with the pads of your thumbs.

It’s like the strike of a match. 

Long, elegant fingers eagerly hook into the waistband of your skirt, tugging it easily off your hips and down your legs. The cool air washes refreshingly over you, but it quells the flames of desire for only a second. Loki’s large hands are on every inch of bare skin that he can find, as though this is both the first and last time he’ll ever touch you, as though he doesn’t already know every inch of you by heart. 

Hungry hands slip easily beneath your shirt, quickly making short work of both it and your bra. You hear the quiet rustle as they’re tossed to the side with the rest of your clothing. 

He takes a moment to marvel at you, drinking you in like you’re the finest piece of Asgardian art. You watch his eyes darken as they rake over you appreciatively, and you fight not to shiver under the intensity of his gaze. 

“Norns, you are beautiful,” he murmurs before burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

A cool hand finds your breast while he trails a broken line of kisses along your neck and over your collarbone. His lips are hungry and frantic and, mixed with his fingers twisting and pulling at your nipple, it doesn’t take long until you’re arching into his touch. You’re so submerged between the waves of his affections that you only just register his unbroken chorus of “beautiful thing…enchanting creature…darling girl.” 

Love and lust for this man mix deliriously in your heart, becoming so overwhelming that you can’t help but greedily pull his lips to yours. The kiss is feverish and passionate like you’ll never get another chance to kiss him again. Loki responds eagerly, moulding his body to yours. You feel cool fingers curl around your knee to place it around his waist, and when his lips break away from yours, you can’t help but to whine. 

“Please, darling,” he pants breathlessly against your lips. “Please let me love you.” 

Instantly, any half formed plans you had to keep teasing him fade away like smoke in the wind. 

You tangle a hand into his mess of curls to pull him in for another blistering kiss, and at the same time, you lock your ankles across his back. “Love me, Loki.” 

His cock is already nudging at your entrance when you press your heels into his back, silently coaxing him forward. Loki doesn’t say a word, but his eyes don’t leave yours as he slowly eases himself inside you until you can take no more of him. Despite the many times you’ve taken him before, you’re always left breathless at how good he feels inside you.

Instinctively, you clench around him, pulling a hiss from between bared teeth. “You are perfect,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours. “My perfect girl.” 

He rolls his hips against yours in a slow, deep thrust that sends your eyes rolling in your head. He does it again, and again, until you’re sure you’ll draw blood with how deeply you’re gripping his shoulders.

“Loki…ah!....more,” you plead with a shout when his cock brushes against that sweet spot deep inside you. 

His lips press firmly against your flushed cheek. “Anything my queen commands,” he rasps in your ear.

His thrusts pick up speed until you can feel him in your very soul. Warmth begins to blossom like a new rose in your core as he expertly builds you towards your second orgasm, groaning and panting deliciously in your ear while he chases his own high. The coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter with each thrust, and all you know right now is Loki. 

The feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him. He’s all you’ll ever need. 

“Darling…darling, I’m close…please,” he whimpers in your ear. 

You’re teetering right on the edge, ready to tumble blindly into bliss. “Come. Come for me, my love,” you tell him hoarsely. 

He barely lasts a minute. 

Neither do you. 

Loki empties himself inside you with a symphony of groans and curses, slipping into some ancient language when you clamp down around him and dig your nails into his shoulder and scalp - deaf and blind in the tsunami of your own release. He drowns you so deeply in pleasure that you’re not sure you’ll ever surface.

You’re not sure you ever want to. This man has given you every part of himself, he trusts you so wholly and so deeply that he’s felt safe enough to submit to you. Gods, you love him so much.

He chases his pleasure ruthlessly, growling deep in his throat when you twist your fingers into his hair. “Good boy. My good boy,” you praise him softly as his thrusts eventually become sloppy and erratic. 

His warm breath hits the crook of your neck while he comes down from his high, completely spent. You cradle his head and turn yours to press a kiss to his temple, feeling him smile against you when you do. 

“You did so well, my darling,” you whisper in his ear, twisting some stray curls around your fingers.

Loki lifts his head to peer down at you, looking close to drunk in the aftermath of his orgasm. He kisses you deeply as his hands slide to rest on your hips, pulling back to grin at you so wolfishly that your stomach flips in anticipation. 

In a shimmer of green, the collar and leash disappear into the air. “Oh, darling, I’m not finished yet.” 

You return his smirk with one of your own. “I should like to think not.”

[junosmindpalace]

Hey! I'm a long time reader of yours. I'm finding myself real down on my luck lately, and life has been kicking my ass (medical school, and this flu season amongst other things). May I request headcanons of Gen or Ukyo taking care of a sick reader?

hello hello!! i’m very grateful that you’ve stuck around and enjoy my writing!  i’m so sorry to hear life hasn’t been treating you so good, and i hope things pick up for you soon :( 

gen or ukyo…why not both!

GEN ASAGIRI

Depending on the severity of your sickness, Gen may initially be a little reluctant to be around you. 

He’s a bit of a drama queen, swooning over how sad it is that you’re in such a state, worrying about whether or not he’ll catch anything from you, teasing that he should keep his distance. 

Yet when your unimpressed features finally send the messages that his jokes and attitudes weren’t all that funny, he sobers up and truly is one of the most committed to looking after you out of everyone in the camp. 

He truly and honestly worries about you; he hates seeing you in such distress, and though subconsciously he may also want to save his own skin and comfort by averting his eyes, he forces himself to stay by you for both your sakes. 

Especially if your sickness is something that can evolve to be life threatening, he’ll stay by your bedroll all night if it means giving himself some peace of mind. 

He acts as a messenger between you and the rest of the Kingdom of Science. Anything you want or need, Gen is immediately out to ask someone to bring it over, or he’s going off to retrieve it himself. 

He brings meals to your bed(roll) and insists he feeds you, even when you tell him he doesn’t need to. 

He’s surprisingly diligent and mindful of your body; he thinks to put a soothing cloth on your skin for some relief, and takes care to change it regularly. He’s quiet when he moves around, so as to not disturb you while you attempt to rest and dull the ache in your head.

When you’re up for it, Gen most likes to talk you out of hyper fixating on your pain. He’ll complain about people and complain about tasks they force him to undertake, always in a theatrical way that makes you chuckle, which reassures him greatly.

Sometimes he may even pull out some of his magic tricks to amuse you. If not tricks, then regular games of cards and showcases of all the flowers he managed to find and pick and preserve. 

Most of the time when he’s in your company, however, he’s trying to busy himself one way or another. Sitting and staring at your weakening state for too long makes him nervous. He feels the need to pace, to do something. 

Overall, tries to continue acting like his arrogant self, but his actions give away his concern, and he’s more than relieved when you recover from your ailment. 

UKYO SAIONJI 

Ukyo, in many ways, is incredibly similar to Gen, just without the arrogance and dramatics and more concern instead. 

It’s hard for him to hide behind a smile like Gen does, however; when it comes to you, his emotions are kind of plain to see, almost impossible to hide. He’ll give you reassuring squeezes of the hand or shoulder, laugh with you and offer all his support, but you can tell the whole thing makes him uneasy, and when he isn’t wearing a smile for your sake, he’s silently grieving your condition (especially if it appears life threatening). 

So you’ll both need some comforting, perhaps a squeeze of his shoulder in order to get his tension to diffuse just the slightest bit. But Ukyo is always there to pull you out of your misery with reassurances that the sickness won’t last forever, and that you’ll recover soon enough, reborn into a stronger body (and mind). 

In the meantime, he does what he can for you. He takes over your chores, brings you your meals, and stands by you with his bow at night; just in case. 

Conversation is the main way he attempts to get your mind off your sickness. Talking about himself, updating you on the day’s happenings, asking questions about you and the things you like--anything and everything if it means keeping you as spirited as possible. It’s also a subconscious reassurance for himself that you show potential in recovery. 

He also works closely beside Senku and the other villagers who closely monitor your condition and attempt to help you recover through whatever means they can think up (or invent). Though he may not know all the science behind the recovery methods, he’ll recommend remedies from his own experience and ask questions as to what he can do in order to best support you.

When you do eventually recover, he’s just as bright and cheery (and perhaps even relieved) as you are, though he may remain a little more protective of you than normal, not wanting you to contract a similar ailment.

[aringofsalt]

💘 and buddietommy for the prompts 👀👀

HELLO DARLING

💘 - fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss

“That one,” Eddie said, pointing to a man at the bar.

They didn’t do this often, but he had Tommy’s type down pretty well at this point: tall, buff, hair long enough to run his fingers through. It helped that that was also Eddie’s type, of course; that they agreed on this like they did on so many other things. It made things easier on nights like tonight, when they had the house to themselves thanks to his abuela wanting time with Chris, and could indulge a little. Usually that just meant a date night at a restaurant that didn’t offer a kids’ menu, but tonight they’d both admitted to feeling the urge to play.

So.

“Tall and curly?” Tommy asked, a little uselessly since his eyes were already locked on the guy’s ridiculously broad, plaid-draped shoulders.

“Tall and curly,” Eddie confirmed, laughing a little internally that he’d called it so well. “C’mon, babe… I dare you.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Tommy’s lips, stealing his beer from in front of him and draining the last few mouthfuls so he had no choice but to go get a new one. Tommy just rolled his eyes, swatting playfully at his shoulder as he got up and made his way up to the bar.

This was the part that made it fun: watching Tommy work his magic. They hadn’t really had a conventional dating experience—they’d met in the army, were a long-distance on again-off again thing after he and Shannon imploded and he had a toddler to take care of, a handful of brief visits when they managed to both have time off. And then there’d been the tentative offer from Tommy for Eddie to move to LA when he was talking about switching careers and being closer to Shannon and his abuela for Christopher’s sake. To be something permanent. They’d made it work, somehow, and he’d never regret it, but he still had occasional pangs of wishing that they’d had this, the heady, carefree flirting phase.

But seeing it happen from across a crowded room was a whole other kind of thrill.

He watched as Tommy slid into the space next to the other man with a practiced ease, gently nudging their elbows together so he had an excuse to apologise and say hello. Oldest trick in the book, but damn if it didn’t work on this guy. He was hook, line, and sinker before Tommy’s beer even arrived, leaning into him, staring appreciatively and reaching out to gently stroke the scar on Tommy’s ribs when he pulls up his shirt to show it off—must’ve mentioned the firefighter thing. He even reacted well when Tommy nodded in Eddie’s direction, throwing out a jaunty little wave that Eddie returned, so it wasn’t a surprise when he looked down at his phone for a second and then back up to see them kissing.

It wasn’t like the view was super clear from where he was sitting; the booth was hardly a front row seat. But he’d been kissed by Tommy enough that he could practically feel the heat of it, even from that far away; the way his fingers were gently lifting the other guy’s chin, how they were leaning into each other. The kiss was gentle and relatively chaste since they were in public, but seemed to be rocking this guy’s world anyway if the way he chased after Tommy’s lips when he pulled away was any indication.

Smirking, Eddie looked back down at his phone. What happened after this was up to Tommy; sometimes this was all they wanted, sometimes they’d bring people home, but it was Tommy’s dare and therefore his decision.

He certainly wasn’t expecting the shocked little “Eddie?”

“Buck?” He was sure his eyes were practically falling out of his head. He’d managed to pick the guy he’d spent a shift pissing off before they nearly died together. How the hell hadn’t he recognised him? Of course, he'd only ever seen him at work, when he was in uniform and kept his hair slicked back, not dressed down in a flannel with unstyled curls. Shit, he was going to be in so much trouble, Buck would probably hate him again after this and go to Bobby and—

“Wait, Evan is—Buck? Is—this is bomb guy?” Tommy asked incredulously, interrupting the spiral.

“Wait, you called me bomb guy?” To Eddie’s surprise, Buck looked happy, delighted, even, as he leaned his hands on the table and met Eddie’s eyes. “So I’m hot enough you sent your boyfriend to kiss me, and you told him stories about me and gave me a cool nickname? I thought you hated me for a minute there.”

“You hated me, asshole,” Eddie protested. “And I didn’t know it was you tonight, I swear! I’ve never seen you so—” he gestured at Buck’s outfit, his hair.

“Hot?” Buck filled in smugly. “Yeah, Tommy mentioned that.”

“Well, not like it’s not true,” Tommy shrugged at Eddie’s scandalised look as he slid back into his seat.

“Not helping, babe,” Eddie groaned. “Look, Buck, I’m sorry, this was totally inappropriate and a complete accident, can we skip to the part where we forget this happened and we never, ever mention it again? I’m sure you’re here with friends, you must have something interesting going on.”

“Oh, trust me,” Buck said with a grin as he sat down on Eddie’s other side, “my friends are nowhere near as interesting as this is gonna be.”

—

look, we're just gonna be a little handwavey about eddie and buck not recognizing each other. it was across a bar, they'd only known each other for a couple days, it was dark and buck was dressed differently, whatever 😂 either way they're gonna be soooo normal about this whole thing.

in this universe eddie realized he was queer earlier and it was one of the reasons he and shannon split but it was way more amicable and she's totally fine and alive and they're friends now 💕

[maple-the-awesome]

Twilight's Calling ||

Pairing: Twilight x GN! Reader

Words: 2,544

Requested by anonymous: Heeey. First of I love your writing style! It’s just amazing! Cause twilight is my fav. could you maybe write something like xreader with him, for example they’re in a battle or smth? Only if it’s okay ofc! Thanks a lot and have a good day and week! best wishes :) Twilight may or may not be my favorite Link, too (TP was the first game I finished, so I'm a little bias, okay?). I've had this draft lying around unfinished for awhile, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to finish it. Here you go, hun 💜

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's getting pretty late. 'Late' as in the sun has long set and the last time you saw any of the boys was about an hour ago when Time finally managed to herd the remaining stragglers out of the room, although he was being a bit hypocritical seeing as he still lingered in the doorway for a good minute himself afterwards (not that you dared comment on it).

Since their heavy footsteps had faded into silence - and aside from the innkeeper sometimes shuffling down the hall or a sudden 'pop' of the bedside candle - you've been left entirely alone with your thoughts as they dance on the very edge of sleep, but you refuse to lose balance. It's your shift. You promised to be a good lookout and it took a lot of convincing to even get the position, so you can't disappoint no matter how heavy the weight upon your eyelids or heart is.

You've always been well aware of the risks that would come with this mission and from traveling alongside nine heroes of legend; troublesome young men and boys who can definitely handle themselves in battle, however none immune to making possible mistakes. You expected one to occur at some point, yet never wanted the aftermath to be anything too serious.

Wild getting a decent scar on his forehead was a scare when it initially happened, but he was back on his feet within the hour - less than that actually, because if you remember correctly, his quick recovery had been controversial and resulted in quite a bit of bickering. The bottom line is that Wild bounced back with little to no trouble thanks in part to his thick skull. This is different. Twilight has yet to follow his protege's example and it's been hours.

You must admit you underestimated the situation at first due to a lack of context. It's not to say you didn't care about Wolfie when he got struck, however there's a notable difference between a wild 'pet' that occasionally trails your group and the very man you've grown to secretly admire over the months you've spent traveling together. If you had known then that they are one of the same, you would've likely shared a similar level of panic as the Champion, but instead you were left in the dark until Four finally explained Twilight's secret to you.

Even at that moment, although more worried, you figured everything would be okay. Wolfie or Twilight, a fairy should be able to do the trick to heal the worst of injuries, so one can imagine your heartbreak once learning that, for some odd reason, the state of his wounds haven't changed even under a fairy's sacred touch. That's when you truly became fearful, but you refused to show it outwardly - no more than whatever made itself present on your face, anyway.

Making a fuss won't aid Twilight's condition nor will it calm the concerns of your friends, so instead you had mostly stayed out of the way until Time announced everyone should get some rest. At that point, you made your presence known, quick to shoot your hand into the air while volunteering to take the first shift for watching over Twilight. Champion was the only one to fight you for it and honestly, you still aren't certain how you won the argument, but here you are, sitting quietly at Twilight's bedside while trying desperately to keep yourself from descending into madness as you fret over his well-being.

He's doing somewhat better after Hyrule's magic managed to stop most of the bleeding, however his wound remains deep without any further healing progress and his skin is drained into a pale, sickly color clear even through the dim glow of candle light. He looks like shit and you'd guess he feels like it, too, seeing as his face curls into a pained expression every now and again, a whispered groan leaving him whenever he slightly shifts his body (not that he moves that much).

It's gotten a bit chilly tonight, however all blankets in the room have been laid over him and you refuse to swoop as low as to steal comfort from a dying man, so you simply keep huddled to yourself, half praying the next shift will come sooner and half praying it won't because a stubbornness inside you is somehow convinced that the simple act of you being here will keep himsafe from death's hands.

You don't pay much attention to the quiet groan that comes from the bed, having already bitterly accepted that there's nothing that can ease whatever pain haunts Twilight during his nightmares, although you do lift your head when a hand shakes its way into view, barely able to carry itself to the edge of the covers where it collapses with a broken echo from its owner, "W...What time is it?"

You almost cry simply by the sight of Twilight's dull eyes staring up at you, half-lidded and only appearing bright if compared to the dark bags hiding underneath them, but you manage to hold back the tears for the sake of not scaring him.

"I-I'm not sure. After sunset," You answer slowly as to prevent any wobbling to your voice.

"And the others? Is every - everyone else okay?" Hylia, he sounds awful, his once handsome, accent-laced voice butchered by a hollow croak.

"Yeah...Yeah, we're all okay - and don't worry about the shadow. Wild managed to take it down - thanks to you tiring it out, I'd say. You sure gave that thing a run for its money there," You attempt to joke lamely. Although your laugh doesn't carry much life to it, Twilight's expression does soften a tad after the sound.

"...Good..." Is all he says before closing his eyes with a sigh through his nose. Meanwhile you fidget nervously, debating with yourself on whether you should let the conversation die off so that he can continue getting rest or keep him talking while he's able to. You sure do love hearing his voice, after all, no matter how broken it may be; it reminds you that someone as great as him is actually real and, after recent events, still alive.

In the midst of your depressed thoughts, you notice Twilight reach his hand out towards you again - or at least it looks like he's trying to. Really, he only has the strength to lift it palm-up slightly off the covers, yet you understand this movement's wordless request. Ever so gently, as if he's made of glass, you take his hand and sandwich it between both of yours. He's a bit too cold for your liking, a sharp contrast to his normally warm touch, not that you draw attention to that worrying detail.

"...Is there anything I can get you?"

He tries to shake his head, but loses will halfway through the action and instead chooses to simply let his head lull to the side towards you. From there he stares for a bit longer than he means to, his dazed brain struggling to process his thoughts at its usual speed.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on you," You allow a small smile, slowly reaching forward to help move his bangs away from his face, "We're all taking shifts throughout the night. I was just lucky enough to get the first."

Twilight hums, closing his eyes for a brief second when your fingers brush his forehead, "How'd you manage that?"

"Barely. For a second there, I thought I was gonna have to duel the Champion for it - had my hand on my sword and everything before he finally caved," Twilight makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh which makes your smile more genuine even if he does flinch in pain immediately afterwards, "The real question is how I won against Time...Actually, I wouldn't be that surprised if he's secretly standing outside the door as we speak."

A creak of old floorboards in the hallway makes your eyes dart to the door, almost expecting the man in question to walk in and call you out for your jokes, yet you calm that doesn't happen. Twilight brings your attention back to him by moving his thumb against your hand, "Don't tell 'em, but I'm glad it's you here. I like having ya' here with me..."

You press your lips, hoping it'll help you ignore the heat against your cheeks. That must be the first time Twilight has ever openly said he 'likes' anything related to you; you're certain you'd remember any other instances of such a milestone. It might not be the exact sentence you'd want him to use the word in, but it's a step in the right direction, so you'll take it.

"I like having you here with me, too, Twi...which is why I've officially decided that I'm too selfish to let you die on any of us. I don't care if I have to fist-fight Hylia for it; I'm not letting you get out of this journey so easily."

"That right?"

"I swear it on my life."

He chuckles weakly, although the sound is taken over by a fit of coughing. Promptly you pour a small glass of water using the pitcher kept on the bedside table before gently helping him sit up to take a careful sip.

It's insane for you to think that only a few weeks ago, you had been secretly watching him move hay bales at Time's place effortlessly. Now he lies here in bed struggling to hold a conversation, his muscles shaking horribly by the simply action of prompting himself up even slightly. Seeing him like this makes you feel awful, but you also consider yourself blessed to be the one taking care of him during a low point like this, ensuring that he's properly cared for and tended to almost like a spouse would.

"Seems like I'm starting to lose you, farm boy. You should relax and get some more sleep," He makes a face and seems prepared to argue, however he must not have been able to think of anything convincing to say - that or the aching in his bones has become too hard to ignore. Either way, instead of saying a word, Twilight nods droopily before inching his way back down against his soft pillow while you fix the blankets over him again.

"Look on the bright side: make it through this and you'll probably get special treatment from here on out. Get your bags carried for you, have whatever meals you're craving be made each night...If you hobble around a little I'm sure you could even get Time to fuss over you -"

" - And what about you?" Twilight quizzes and you can't tell if he's being serious or just teasing. It feels like the latter, yet the way he watches you while awaiting your reply makes you feel another way; soft and warm, but a tad anxious at the same time, "What can I get from you?"

You pretend to think, although in truth, you already know there wouldn't be any limitations for what you're willing to give. If he asked for the world right now, you'd figure out some way to gift wrap it for him...but that's too embarrassing to admit aloud, "...Depends on what you're thinking and if you can swing it the right way."

He hums, once again staring at you just long enough to make that anxious feeling really prominent. Is there something on your face that no one told you about earlier? Is he judging your messy hairdo that you had no time to fix since the battle? Did you sound too flirtatious in your answer? Maybe his injury has given him the ability to read minds, so now he knows just how desperate you are to earn his affections!

"...If I asked you to stay with me, would you?" Twilight whispers so quietly that you barely hear, yet you do. 

"I, uh...Time will be here in an hour or so for his shift, but I won't go anywhere until then, okay?" Not even your poor excuse at smiling can save your stumbled words, yet you pray he doesn't look beyond either. He's loopy from such a stressful day, so it makes sense that he's have trouble properly wording questions. It also makes sense for him to be scared to be left alone - anyone would be in such a state. He doesn't have to worry, though; between you and the boys, someone will always be by his side throughout the night. You'd expect that knowledge to be a relief for him, however Twilight only frowns and looks away with a surprisingly depressed look in his eyes. 

Fiddling nervously with your hands upon your lap, you ask carefully, "...Unless you're wanting me to watch over your for the whole night? In that case, I wouldn't mind staying if it would make you feel better. I'm sure the others would be fine with it if they could just check in here and there."

Twilight presses his lips, refusing to look directly at you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that based on his continued reaction, you're still somehow missing the point of his question, yet no matter how much you rack your brain, you can't think of what else he would've possibly meant.

You were tempted to ask for more clarity, but Twilight speaks before you can, "...I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

He nods bashfully which melts your heart in a way you're sure would be shamefully clear if he were only looking in your direction.

"...Well, since you took one for the team -" Scooting your chair closer to the bed allows you to cross your arms over the mattress and rest your head on top of them. Desperately you try to ignore your nerves and the cute way Twilight curiously looks over at you, "- I'll stay for the night if you promise me one thing."

"Hmm?"

"Stay with me, too? Without you, I might just loose my mind. Don't tell anyone else, but you don't drive me nearly as insane as some of the other boys do," not in the same way at least.

The corner of Twilight's lips turn upwards, his hand taking it's time to move over yours. The second it makes contact, you take the chance to hold onto it, "...Sounds like a deal..."

You match his smile easily, "Get some sleep, Twi. I'll be right here when you wake up, so just focus on getting better for me, alright?"

He hums one last time, drifting off to sleep as commanded where he seems to be far more peaceful than earlier. As promised, you remain by his side until morning, eventually falling victim to quick naps yourself only disrupted whenever someone else sneaks into the room to see how things are going. You're certain you'll be tired tomorrow with an aching back after spending an entire night hunched over, but that's a small price to pay for someone like Twilight. It'll all be worth it to see him recover, granting you even more time to spend by his side through thick and thin.

[bedoballoons]

Considering my love language is physical touch and all I want after a long day is a hug this literally makes my heart just like melt!! Thank you for this request and I hope you enjoy!!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️

{༻~A hug a day~༺}

CW: GN! Reader! Mentions of the character being down in the dumps/sad, reader has a kind of sunshine personality and of course fluffy!!

Pet names used on reader: Mon amour, My dear, honey, my sweet

(Includes: Lyney, Diluc, Kaveh, Alhaitham and Neuvillette!)

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney rested his head on his arm, slowly turning his hat by the brim as it sat on the table in front of him...to say he'd had a bad day was a understatement. Out of all the things a magician could have happen to them during a performance, having their trick explained by a crowd member who then got everyone else riled up...was probably one of the worst. He could still hear the boos...and feel the embarrassment flow through his veins as things were thrown at him on stage.

"Oh what a day..." He sighed and you could hear his sadness in it, that was the last straw...you couldn't just leave him upset. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, hugging him tightly, "Those people are just mean, your shows are amazing and just because they called out one trick doesn't matter cause you will just come back stronger. I know you Lyney... don't let that one low life make you feel down...you're ten times more incredible then they will ever be."

You felt him tense at your touch, but quickly he melted into it and you could see his smile returning already, "Ah Mon amour, you're right. How can I feel sad when I have you, I'm luckier than any guy in the world. Thank you for reminding me."

𑁍༄Diluc:

Diluc swirled the grape juice in his cup, wishing he could simply forget the things he'd learned today. Gathering intel was normally easy for him, he'd use it to protect Mondstat...the ones he loved, but learning the dangers, what he was truly up against...it made him worry. How could he protect everyone against something so treacherous... "Can I really do it all alone?"

"Alone? You're not alone."

He sat up straighter, not expecting a answer...not expecting you to be walking towards him, how you always managed to know when he was in need of you was a mystery to him.. "When did you get back?" You smiled at him and wrapped your arms tight around his chest, "Just a second ago, I had a feeling something was wrong and that you needed a hug. Was I right?"

"More then you could know, thank you. My dear."

𑁍༄Kaveh:

Kaveh tossed his sketchbook onto the table, his pencil snapping between his fingers as his free hand ran through his blonde hair. Normally he'd just take a step back, cool off before returning to his happy self but the whole day had just been... well not great and not being able to sketch was the nail in the coffin. "I swear if one more thing goes wrong I- huh?"

He looked down at you as you embraced him tightly, your face snuggling into his chest, "It's okay Kaveh, we all have those kinds of days but I'm here and I'll make it a good day. How about I make some snacks, we can look at old photos and cuddle up on the couch."

Whatever he was feeling before you touched him...it was gone, just one hug and he felt better, he was almost convinced at this point you had some type of magic, "I would love that...thank you honey. Sorry you had to see my little freak out...aha not my proudest moment..."

"Everyone has them Kaveh, it's okay."

"Ah...what would I do without you?"

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

Alhaitham knew he didn't handle things like everyone else did, when others had bad days they'd get upset and stressed, take time to themselves...even cry, but he was far better at hiding how he felt. He'd stay in his study...reading for hours until whatever had made his day hard was but a small needle in a haystack of information...or at least that's what he used to do.

Now he had you and you weren't one to let him lock himself away, you would hold him tight even when he'd never usually accept hugs and for some reason...he enjoyed them. Having you so close, feeling your heart beat against his chest, instead of being alone for hours and reading till even he got a headache...it merely took a few minutes with you.

"Better?"

"Better."

𑁍༄Nuevillette:

Rain was batting against the windows, water pouring down the glass outside...and it had been going on for over a hour now. He'd have to apologize to everyone at some point, normally cases wouldn't bother the chief of justice, he'd been doing his job so long nothing really got to him...but the last one, what gruesome case it was and it had ended in such a horrible way...none of it even necessary.

"Neuvillette...you've been staring out the window for a long time. Are you alright?" You looked at him slightly worried, your instincts kicking in as you hugged his side...he wasn't really allowed to share the details of alot of his work, but you could always tell when the clouds appeared that one had gotten to him.

He looked at you for a moment and placed a kiss on your forehead, feeling his burden of information slowly grow lighter as your touch lingered, "Yes im alright my sweet, just...keep close to me for a second longer and the storm will clear."

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧