#you feel like having a discussion. preposterous i know.

[wittlesissyb4by]

Alphabet Soup

She really could steep so low when she was angry. He wasn’t suggesting she was dumb. He was just saying he’s smarter than her. Logically, there’s gotta be one above the other in a relationship, doesn’t there??

Ryan always prided himself on his intelligence. Constantly correcting people’s grammar, inserting a fun fact, discussing philosophy at length, and the only reason people spaced out when he started relaying the Socratic method of question and answer was because they couldn’t possibly match his intellect. But, most importantly, he always had to let Wren know when she was wrong, he couldn’t have her going around embarrassing him with inaccuracies. Just the other day she said there’s “got to be a million mosquitos out tonight”, and obviously there couldn’t possibly be that much. As smart he was, he couldn’t understand why she would get so butthurt about him correcting her in front of all of their friends. 

“You treat me like I’m stupid, Ryan! All the fucking time. I’m a doctor for crying out loud! I may not know everything, but I’m not an idiot!” She was white hot, taking sharp breaths to keep her blood from overheating. “And you know what? Not that it matters or I would ever fucking care, but do you ever think maybe, just maybe, I could know a little bit more than you about certain subjects? Like, everyone has their strengths Ryan…”

She looked at him expectantly, glaring into his soul, could he just admit he was wrong about something for once? Ryan could have kept himself from smiling–if he was just a smidge less smug. “I’m sorry, but in the years we’ve been dating, I just haven’t found something you’re smarter than me at. And if you really believe in hypnosis, you may be dumber than I thought…”

Steam erupted from Wren’s ears.

“Jesus, you are the most arrogant asshole I have ever met!”

“What??” Ryan scoffed exaggeratedly, throwing up his hands as Wren stormed off, “I’m just saying that that hypno bullshit is a bunch of crap! I don’t care how many so called ‘studies’ you try to show me! There’s no way you could possibly think that works!!”

Wren stopped in her tracks, clenching her fists. She wanted to just go into the room, slam the door, and make him sleep on the fucking couch, but she just couldn’t let him win this one. She couldn’t let him even think he had her beat, even if it was just in his own fucked up head. 

Letting out a hefty sigh to maintain her composure, she pivoted on her heels. “How about this…” She said through gritted teeth, “you think you’re sooo smart? Well we’ll see. I’ll bet you that in one month, I can drop your IQ down to less than 20.”

Ryan had no choice but to absolutely guffaw at the proposition. “Are you kidding? Twenty?! Wren, my IQ is at least 140, no way you could actually lower it. Much less by that much! I mean, Twenty?! That’s like, the average IQ of a todd–”

“Do we have a deal or not?!” Wren interrupted with rolling eyes.

“Well you haven’t set the stakes, young lass.” He said with a swaggering smirk, “What do I get if I win?” Ryan replied, crossing his arms.

It was Wren’s turn to scoff. “Pshh, I really don’t care…cause you’re not going to win. Name your prize.”

“Blowjob.” Ryan said almost without a thought, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even gotten one. He had no idea why.

“Fine.” Wren said without even blinking.

“Every day.”

“Sweetie,” she said, softening her tone as she brushed a hand to his cheek, bringing her face so close that he could feel her breath on his lips, then let out a whisper, “If you can maintain an IQ above 50, I’ll give you three of them! Every day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Ryan laughed, unable to find this preposterous notion any more amusing. “You’re really that confident?”

“If you agree to my methods without putting up a fuss? Yes. I absolutely am. I bet I can make you so stupid in just a month that you won’t even remember the fucking alphabet by the time I’m done with you!””

Ryan grinned from ear to ear. This was going to be the easiest bet of his life. His balls would never be full. 

“You’re on.”

******

Ryan scoffed at the patronizing nature of it. Was she really going to make him use his left hand?

“You have to color while you listen to the tape.” Wren told him when she placed a crayon in his hand. She sat him down ‘criss-cross applesauce’ in front of a little table with a coloring book on it. Wren flipped it open to the first page, which had a big letter ‘A’ on it. 

“Now Ry-Ry, can you tell me what letter this is?” She asked in a sardonic tone. 

“It’s an A.” Ryan grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“And can you tell me what ‘A’ stands for?”

“Apple, asparagus, aardvark, apostesism…”

“Very good, Ry-Ry!!” She clapped mockingly, pulling out a large set of headphones. “Now you just sit here and color your wittle pages while you listen to this lovely music! I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours…”

“Hours??” Ryan repeated incredulously. Was she really going to make him sit and do a fucking coloring book for that long? There were much better things he could be doing with his time. But he had to play her game. A bet was a bet, and he planned to prove her wrong. 

She tapped something on her phone and the music kicked on shortly after. Much to Ryan’s chagrin, it wasn’t even good mysic like Bach or Tchaikovsky or even Tame Impala, it was some nursery lullaby bullshit, but with a weird reverb effect added to it. He could also hear faint little voices in the background, but they were too drowned out by the other noises for him to discern what they were saying. He could only pick out certain words like ‘baybee’ and ‘diapers’ and ‘poo poo’s”, which made sense, because it was nursery rhymes. 

He found himself zoning out, but that was just from the sheer boredom of it all. He was better than this. He’d submitted dissertations on complex epigenetic interactions of the human genome, and now he was just coloring the letter A a hundred times over. 

How was she going to make hom forget the alphabet if she was ‘teaching’ them to him? Maybe she was just exaggerating, it’s literally impossible to forget something that’s been embedded in his brain since before school even started. 

After what felt like an eternity, she finally came over and tapped him on the shoulder, removing the headphones. His mind was a little hazy, but again, it was probably just from the lack of any complex thought for the first time in his life. She shooed him and allowed him to resume his more age-appropriate activities. 

*****

The next day went much like the first, except instead of ‘A’, he was doing the letter ‘B’. 

“Boredom, beneath, balderdash.” Ryan sighed, listing off words to convey how ridiculous this whole thing was. 

“And…” Wren said, placing something down on the table next to the Crayons. “ Bottle.”

Ryan chuckled heartily. It was an actual bottle. A baby bottle, with a little nipple and everything. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do you give up?”

“No.” Ryan said quickly, “but i’m not drinking…whatever that is. Especially not out of that!”

Wren just shrugged. “You don’t have to, but it’s there if you get hungry.”

She put the headphones over his ears once more, clicked them on, and left the room. 

Ryan was already over this whole thing, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of quitting. He swirled the blue crayon through the loops of the big B’s while the music played. The little voices seemed to be louder this time, but it still wasn’t worth paying attention to. 

About halfway through his 4 hour session though, Ryan’s mouth felt a bit dry. Something at the back of his throat was pulsing. His cheeks felt empty.  For whatever reason, he needed to have something in there. 

At first he bit his nails. That was nice, for a little. But that soon turned to his finger tip, and eventually his whole thumb. 

After another hour of suckling his fingers, he looked to the bottle. He was hungry, and Wren refused to give him cheerios and goldfish like she did yesterday. 

He picked up the bottle, pressing the rubber nipple to his lips. Jesus that felt good! He gave a little suckle, then another, then gagged. The liquid wasn’t milk, it was…something else. It tasted awful. But he couldn’t stop drinking. The nipple felt too good in his mouth, it was worth putting up with the disgusting flavor. 

He finished every last drop. 

Wren had to practically pry the bottle from his hands when it was time to remove his headphones. Ryan couldn’t explain why he was so attached to it all of a sudden. Why was he getting so angry and flustered over such a silly thing?

Thankfully, Wren had an alternative ready, another ‘B’ word:

Binky. 

******

Ryan sucked on it the whole night. His cheeks ached in the morning, but luckily a fresh bottle helped to ease the pain. 

His brain felt fuzzy, but it was probably because he didn’t sleep that well. He was too busy worrying about the binky possibly falling out of his mouth while he slept. 

The lack of sleep was also why he couldn’t think of complicated ‘C’ words. He could only come up with ‘Car’, Cat, and whatever the word is for the thing you put water and juice in. 

Luckily, after his hypno session, Wren had the perfect thing to help him sleep better: a Crib. 

******

Something happened that night. Maybe his bottle leaked, or maybe it was the ceiling. But when he rolled over from his cramped position in the undersized crib, the sheets were warm and wet. 

Wren assured him that this happens all the time but, just in case, she had something for him to wear. 

Ryan threw an absolute fit when he saw what it was. She was holding up a big giant diaper. 

He tried to tell her off, but his mind was too foggy to form a coherent argument. He really wasn’t sleeping well. 

Still, he tried to fight her when she took his hands and laid him down, but his arms and legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. It felt like he was moving through molasses. 

She had him on his back. He stared at the clouds on the ceiling. Were those always there? Or was that just his vision? No, they had to be new. His whole room was starting to look different. Another large cloud floated into view. But it wasn’t a cloud, it was a diaper. 

His mind was back. She wanted him to wear a diaper. Absolutely not! This was perposter— prepos—perslweterous. 

“D’awww!! Don’t be scared!!” Wren cooed, it sounded like angels singing. “It’s just a wittle diapurr!! You’ll get used to them!”

Ryan felt something screaming inside him. Something deep down. But then Wren said “look! It has the ABC’s printed on it!” And that made him feel better. He recognized those letters, even though he couldn’t think of much else. 

But the padding felt weird when she slid it underneath him. Not bad. Just…weird. Different. Like something wasn’t right. 

He started squirming on the floor, flailing as much as he could, but even in his foggy vision he could see that his arms were only making minor twitches. 

So he did the only thing he knew he could do: he started crying. C-c-Crying. That starts with a C! He knew that for sure. He was so smart. 

He felt the tears slide down his face, one after another. He could hear his wails, could hear how ridiculous it sounded, but he didn’t want to stop. That is, until something rubbery entered his mouth. Then he immediately stopped crying, and felt instantly better. 

He suckled the binky while Wren made a cloud of powder between his legs. He watched as she pulled the diaper up and taped it on. It was hard for him to explain—especially now—but he felt this amazing sense of comfort once it was on. He really liked it. Which may be why something warm and sticky formed inside the diaper almost immediately. 

He spent the rest of the day coloring in ‘D’s’ while wearing his diaper. 

A few times he had to get up to use the restroom, but Wren insisted the headphones needed to stay on, even if his diaper was down. A very agitating song played the entire time he was on the toilet, and the words that the voices used were not very nice. It made him feel bad, very bad, almost guilty for doing something so silly as using the potty. 

Ryan didn’t get a bottle that night, just some chicken nuggets that Wren had taken the liberty of cutting into tiny pieces for him. 

When he was done, she took him by the hand to his new room. He didn’t know why, he didn’t need her help, but without her he probably would have gotten lost. Not because he was dumb, but because he just wasn’t used to sleeping in the guest room. 

Wren stopped in front of his new crib, making a show of checking his diaper. Another absurd display, just because he was playing her little game and wearing this stupid garment didn’t mean he would actually use it. So when she was finally satisfied that every square centimeter was not wet or ‘messy’, he climbed into the crib. 

When he laid back on the plastic mattress, he noticed there was a new mobile hanging above him. It had little geometric shapes and symbols that he didn’t feel like naming right now because he was tired, he could definitely do it if he wanted to though!

She placed his binky in his mouth and he gratefully accepted it, he was terrified of having to spend the night without something in his mouth.

Wren clicked a little button and the dangling shapes on the mobile started to spin. It was mesmerizing, even more so because it played a happy little tune from the speakers. The very same tune that played through his headphones earlier that day.

 ******

Ryan’s diaper was plump and swollen the next morning. His mind wasn’t as fuzzy, so he must have finally gotten a good night's sleep. 

Wait, his brain said, finally catching on to what was happening. He was in a diaper, and he’d wet it. Several times by the feel of it. 

Wren was smiling when she came through the door, even though Ryan was spewing vitriol. The words were coming easier to him again, but so was the gravity of his situation. Had she really been making him wear diapers and drink from bottles??

Wren continued to smile like a mother letting her little one get his tantrum out. Ryan hung over the bars of the crib, he was too scared to climb out himself, but he wasn’t scared to call Wren all sorts of names. 

After almost a minute of Ryan’s blabbering, Wren had had enough. She clicked a button on her phone which made the little mobile over Ryan’s bed start whirring again. Playing that tune that Ryan was really starting to grow attached to. 

Suddenly, Ryan didn’t even feel like calling Wren a bitch any more. He wasn’t even sure what that meant. Instead, he let out a hefty sigh, and brought his thumb to his mouth. He couldn’t find his pacifier. 

“How’s your diaper, little one? Did somewon have an uh oh’s last night?”

Even though Ryan was calm, he still felt this combative stirring rising from his chest. Something was wrong. He knew he wasn’t supposed to wear diapers. He knew he was too old for them. And he definitely knew he wasn’t supposed to pee in them. He shook his head ‘no’ in an exaggerated fashion. 

“No? You didn’t have an accident?” Wren tisked, squeezing the saturated padding, “what is this then?”

Ryan could feel shame welling up inside him. He was a grown man and he’d pissed inside a pair of pampers. He couldn’t even remember doing it. It was all while he was asleep, while those stupid songs were playing. He would do better. This would never happen again. She might have had an upper hand on him, getting him to agree to the diapers and cutesy shit, but he was not about to—wait. Was that a bottle??

He made grabby hands at the little container of off-white liquid, practically spilling some when he snatched it away from her. 

She let the bars of the crib down, allowing him to clamber out, rubber nipple not leaving his mouth. He would have walked, but he felt it was easier to scooch around on his knees.

About halfway through the liquid, Ryan felt something stirring in his tummy. 

“What is it, dear?” Wren asked sweetly, placing her hands on her knees while she smiled down at him. 

“I have to go potty.” Ryan said, unsure why he said it like that. 

“Oh?” Wren asked, looking overly surprised, “is it #1 or #2?”

Ryan couldn’t understand why she was talking about numbers right now. Wren giggled at what must have been a perplexed look. 

“Do you have to go pee pee or poo poo?” She clarified. 

“Poo poo.” Ryan said, feeling his face flush. Something told him this was a weird conversation with a little too much information, but he brushed that away. 

“D’aww! You need to make poopies?!” Wren exclaimed exaggeratedly, “well you don’t wanna have to go all the way to the bathroom do you? It’s a pretty long way…”

She was right. It was a long way, and his legs did feel tired…

“Hmmm…mayybee…” she said, deep in thought, tapping her chin, “maybe you could just use your diaper?”

The very thought was revolting. She wanted him to make a stinky poo’s all over himself? “Na uh! No way!” 

She dangled the binky in front of his face, “I'll give you a little present if you make a present for Mommy!”

Ryan immediately agreed, and he got to suck on his binky the entire time he was crouching down, pushing a warm load of mush into his pampers. 

Wren was so proud of him. She clapped and cheered and giggled uncontrollably, even while she pinched her nose and teased him about the smell. 

But with the warmth came a deep sense of displeasure. Disgust. A part of Ryan’s brain was ridiculing him for what he just did. The words were coming back to him now. 

“You’re doing something to me!” Ryan shouted. He knew it was wrong. Something was happening to him, he couldn’t figure out what, but he knew that the normal him wouldn’t like it! “Stop all this right now! Whatever it is you’re doing isn’t fair! You’ve got me shitting myself! I’m not doing this anymore! I’m not gonna—“

“Shhh…” Wren smiled, placing a hand to his droopy diaper. “Don’t be sad!” She whispered softly. Her voice was like honey, l angelic, the greatest sound in the whole world. “I’m your Mommy, remember? I’m right here.”

Ryan could feel his anger and shame evaporating from his body. 

“Do you want me to stop all of this?” She asked, rubbing her palm against the bulge of his diaper. “Do you want me to take your binky away?”

Ryan’s eyes immediately went wide. Why would she even say such a thing? Why would she need to take his binky??

“Nooo you don’t want that do you?”

Ryan heard himself whimpering, felt his head shaking. 

“And what about your diapers? Do you not like your diapers?”

No. He didn’t like them at all. They were sweaty and itchy, but they were also sooo soft…

“Do you think you should stop wearing them?”

His head moved up and down. 

“But what if you have another accident? What if you wet the bed again? That would be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”

It would. She was right. It would be embarrassing. 

“But if you wear a diaper you don’t have to worry about that do you? All your messes go in there! You don’t even have to walk all the way to the potty! You can use them any time, anywhere!”

She was making such good points. She always made good points. She really was so smart. 

Still, some weird logical part of his brain was firing again. 

“But I’m a big boy!” Ryan whined around his binky. 

“Oh?” Wren asked, shaken. “Do…big boys have accidents?”

Another great point. 

“And big boys surely wouldn’t use diapers, even on purpose!” Wren said, turning into a very scary tone. “But what did you just do, Ry-Ry?”

Ryan’s face flushed. “I pooped them.”

“You did what?”

“I made poo-poo’s…” he could feel the tears welling up again. He wasn’t even sure why. All of this was so confusing. 

“Awww! Don’t be sad!” Wren cooed, switching to that heavenly tone once more, “good baybees use their diapurrs all the time! Like you just did!!”

Ryan smiled, a flood of warmth seeped through his chest, and maybe also into his diaper as well. 

“And baybees that are good get to make a different type of mess, too!”

Ryan wasn’t sure what that meant, but Wren started rubbing the front of his diaper, squeezing it, massaging it, and that felt really good. 

“Tell me you’re a good baybee!” She said, rubbing faster. 

“I’m a good baybee!” Ryan squeaked. 

“Tell me what you did in your diaper.”

“I made pee pee’s and poo poo’s”

“Do you like making messies in your diapurrs?”

“Yes”

“Yes Mommy.” She corrected.

“Yes Mommy!”

“Which do you like to use better? The pampers? Or the potty?”

“The potty.”

She stopped rubbing. 

Panic coursed through Ryan’s veins. He was so close!

“Pampers!!” He corrected, “I prefer peeing and pooping pampers!!”

The rubbing started again. 

“Every time you poop your pampers, Mommy will give you a reward!” She said. 

Ryan nodded, moaning and groaning while Wren rubbed his defiled diaper. It felt so wrong, so disgusting, but he couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t tell her no, because it also felt so good!

It felt even better when he started spasming, and another warm load leaked into the padding. 

Wren patted his padded butt. “Such a good baybee!”

Even with her kind words, a huge rush of shame hit Ryan in the face. His horniness was gone, the haze was lifting, his complex thoughts were coming back, and so was his attention to this disgusting diaper! 

“Wren what the fuck are you doing to—“

But he couldn’t hear himself say the rest, because the headphones were back on his ears, and that lovely tune was playing again. His mind melted away, but before it did he could see her place the book in front of him again, a giant letter ‘E’ emblazoned across the page. 

“You just stay right here and finish your coloring” Wren said, even though he probably couldn’t hear her. He was laying down flat on his tummy, swishing back and forth in his pissy, poopy pamper, smiling and humming the little tune to himself.  “I’ll be back in a few hours to change your diaper.” She continued, patting him on the bottom, “Then we’re going to learn a new ‘E’ word: Enema!”

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

21 Letters to go! What else could be in store for little Ry-Ry? This is one of my favorite stories I've ever done, so if you would like to read the rest, head on over to SubStar! It's available for all tiers! Credit goes to @dj-kinkster for his help and ideas on making this story a reality!

[amethystwrytes]

Safe. (Part Five)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem. Reader X Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous. 

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Discussion of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. 18+ Only MDNI.

Chapter WC: 5K

AN: (1) Two chapters in one week feels excessive - but it's finished, and it’s Minho's BIRTHDAY after all, and also I think I’d like to start posting on Fridays anyway. (2) I don’t want to talk about the unspeakably preposterous and unbelievable practicality/mechanics of one of these smut scenes. You will know it when you see it and you will shush. *Suspension of disbelief rabble rabble*. Thank you, that is all.

~ PART FIVE ~ [Series M. List Here]

You’re setting the table for supper when you hear the key to the front door twist in the lock. Your stomach hardens and you eye Christopher sitting in the living room. You wonder when someone will be able to open your front door without you thinking that they’re going to come barreling through to hurt you, but it’s only Minho. 

“You can go,” Minho casually instructs Chris, who instantly stands and gives you a nod.

“Here,” you call Christopher over, and hand him a to-go box. You made way too much and even though you’re still sore at him for spilling your secrets, you want the man to eat. He takes it with a smile and a thank you, then heads out. 

Minho waits for him to shut it completely before joining you in the kitchen. 

“God that smells amazing, what did you make?” he wraps his hands around you from behind, his head dipping into the small of your neck and shoulder. 

“Spicy chicken, fried rice, and a cucumber salad because I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of you eat a fucking vegetable,” you smile. 

He chuckles, “You take such good care of us,” he smiles against your face before kissing your cheek. 

You briefly eye the front door, “Where’s Hyunjin?” 

Minhos cheerful expression fades for a split second, but he plucks a cucumber slice out of the bowl and corrects himself, “He went home to clean up a bit. He’s coming.” 

“You didn’t clean up?” you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Love, I’ve been doing this a long time, trust me when I say I’m clean as a whistle,” he explains. 

You shrug, “Okay, but it’s not polite to eat before everyone arrives, so put that salad in the refrigerator to keep it cool please,” you instruct as you slide the chicken and rice into the oven to keep warm. 

Minho does as he’s told, surprisingly, then looks at you, “I’m sorry.” 

Your brows furrow, “Sorry?” 

He nods, “I’m sorry for what I said to you in your room that day, I’m sorry for threatening to frame you for selling drugs out of the house, I’m sorry for ever giving you a reason to think I would hurt you.” 

You’d been thinking all afternoon of how you want to talk, of what you want to say to both of them this evening, but this you were not expecting. 

You let out a steady breath and nod, “I guess what I wonder then, is why? Why would you say those things? If you truly never intended to hurt me, then why would you say such awful things?” 

He presses his lips into a line and traces the streaks in the marble countertop. 

“Well?” you urge. 

“I’ve acted the way I’ve acted because I wanted you to hate me. You can’t lose people you love if you love no one and no one loves you. My feelings would be easier to resolve and manage if you hated me,” he smiles sadly, “but when you said you weren’t comfortable being seen with me, I realized having you hate me was exceptionally painful, so I did what I do when I get hurt or angry and acted like a fucking asshole. When you looked at me that day, scared and sad…I realized that I’d fucked up.”

“You are so…” you sigh, “Unstable. You know that, right?” 

“Yes,” he chuckles, “I’m aware.” 

You think of his wife and your heart aches for him again, “Were you ever going to tell me about her?” you wonder. 

His eyes widen a bit, he doesn’t need any clarification to know who you’re asking about. 

“Seola? I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “Probably…eventually. I don’t talk about her often, I don’t…I don’t like to. How did you find out about her?” 

“Jisoo did my hair and makeup for the Casino night,” you tell him, you can’t quite measure if he’s upset about you knowing or not, and you don’t want to throw Christopher under the bus, despite his loose lips. Jisoo feels like a safer option. 

He sighs, “Seola…I loved her with my whole heart. I told her early on that she should stay as far away from me as possible, but she wouldn’t,” he smiles. “When she was taken from me, I never thought I’d ever be able to have feelings for anyone else, I didn’t want to. Then you and I met, and at first I thought I could treat you like the other people I’ve slept with over the past few years, use you the way you were using me - for human contact, to feel good, but…” he trails off, unsure of how to explain it. 

“...but it feels like more,” you finish for him. 

“Yes,” he nods, stepping closer to you, taking your face gently between his hands, “it does.” 

He leans down slowly, gently, and kisses your lips. 

“Please don’t leave us,” he whispers, “don’t leave me.” 

“Then don’t ever make me feel like I need to be afraid of you,” you whisper back. 

“I won’t,” he answers. 

“Don’t let them hurt me again,” you add. 

“No one will ever lay a hand on you again baby, not as long as I’m breathing,” he promises.

You press your lips against his, pull his shirt with your fingertips, drawing him into you. His tongue traces the lines of your bottom lip and you greet it with your own. You melt as his hands roam your body, under your shirt to squeeze and caress the warm skin. You moan into his mouth and he pushes you against the countertops. 

You feel him falter and he pulls away, the two of you staring at each other; you wondering why he stopped, and him looking hindered by something unseen. 

“Do you have feelings for Hyunjin?” he asks. You were expecting this question from one or both of them at some point this evening, but it still hits you abrasively. You’re not willing to lie though. If you’re doing this, all of it, then there is no room for a growing pile of lies between you. 

“Yes.” 

“Do you have feelings for me?” 

“Yes, I do,” you nod, lifting your fingers to his hair to play with the dark strands. 

“That’s going to get extremely messy,” he warns. 

“Then it will fit right in, because all of this is a mess,” you say, looking hard at the floor. He lifts your chin up so your gaze finds his. 

“Is that really what you want? Both of us? I need to know.” 

You think for a moment, think about how you should answer, think about what his response is going to be. 

“I want you both.” 

“Is it because I’m not enough? Or because he’s not enough?” he asks, and you hear the defense in his voice, the blow to his pride and it pains you. 

You shake your head, lace your fingers with his, “It’s not that. Not at all.  You are both more than enough. It’s because you both make me feel things that I crave, because you are two polar opposite men, who make me feel so strongly, and so good when I’m with you but in such very different ways, and maybe I’m just being selfish, I know I am actually, but I don’t want to give up the way I feel when I’m with either of you.” 

Minho is about to respond when the knock on the door drags both your attentions away from the conversation. 

“It’s me, Hyunjin,” a muffled voice calls out from behind the door. 

You squeeze Minhos arm and he lays his hand over yours, giving you a halfhearted smile, but a smile, and that’s better than nothing. 

You cross the space and open the front door to Hyunjins sweet smile, the top half of his jet black hair tied up into a wet bun, the scent of his shampoo still fragrant. 

“Hi,” you smile. 

“Hi beautiful.” 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Dinner starts out dreadfully silent. So silent in fact that you can barely touch your food. Minho and Hyunjin dig in though, stuffing chicken, rice and cucumbers in at an alarming pace that makes you smile. They’re used to silence, to awkwardness. They’ve learned to navigate it, thrive in it, and carry on regardless of the tension. 

“Well, I’d ask you both how your day was but I suppose I know,” you finally attempt a joke, but it doesn’t come out like you intended it to and no one laughs, including you. You grab the cold beer you served with the chicken and take a very long swig. 

Minho wipes his mouth with a napkin and gives you a soft, understanding look, “You wanted us here Love, it’s your meeting so to speak,” he says. 

Hyunjin looks between the two of you as he chews his food, he seems to understand he’s missed part of the conversation, the conversation you started with Minho but this is all ass backwards and not how you wanted to start your ‘meeting.’ 

“Alright, yes,” you clear your throat, “I do have things I want to discuss with both of you.” 

Both men take a break from eating and sit a little straighter, giving you their full attention. You realize now that your hope at a more casual conversation over food was a fruitless endeavor, these men are too serious for casual. 

“I realized something today,” you begin, “I’ve realized that despite what I’ve told myself the past several months, that I am part of this organization. I’ve helped all of you at one point or another, and maybe I’ve just helped in the least criminal of ways, but I have committed crimes with you whether I like it or not. I’ve heard things, I know names, I know what you’ve done, and the things you intend to do, I am an accomplice,” you say it out loud and although it makes it real, there is a part of you that’s relieved to say it to just get it out there. 

Neither Hyunjin or Minho say anything so you continue, “I was going to run, but I think that running away would just mean that I’m running straight into more trouble for myself, for one. But also…” you trail off, “but also, I don’t want to run away from either of you.” 

Hyunjin looks at Minho so quickly that you think it could give him whiplash, but Minho doesn’t react to any of it. 

“But before we talk about that, or what that means, or how to even navigate it, I have terms I’d like to lay out,” you look at both of them. 

“What are your terms Love?” Minho asks, all business, and you wonder if he’s about to produce a pen and notebook to take notes in. 

“First, I don’t like the way some of your guys speak to me as if I’m your personal fuck toy,” you say. 

“Seungmin.” 

Hyunjin and Minho say his name simultaneously. 

“Okay yes, Seungmin, but I don’t want him punished or whatever. I would just like it made clear that while we don’t have to like each other, we don’t need to speak so disrespectfully to one another, and not to sound like a child but he always starts it,” you take another swig of beer. Minho looks as though he’s holding in a chuckle and this puts you at ease a bit. 

“It will be made clear to him and to all my employees that you are to be treated and spoken to with absolutely nothing but respect,” Minho nods with a smile, “What else?” 

“I don’t want to know everything, I don’t need to know everything, but I also don’t want to be treated like Christopher - as just an employee who does as she’s told and is only told the bare minimum. I want to be trusted, and I want you to talk to me freely about things that you need to get off your mind, or things that impact me in any way,” you say. 

“Trust is earned,” Minho says, “but after everything you’ve been through, I believe you’ve more than earned it, so done.” 

“Finally,” you take a breath, “it’s been hard for me since the night I got attacked to be alone here, or anywhere for that matter, and I know you both have things that need done, that you can’t be here all the time, and I appreciate Christopher, and Jisung, and the others…but I want you two - not necessarily at the same time - but I want the two of you.” 

The room sinks back into that familiar silence again and you wait impatiently for someone to say something, you fork some chicken and stuff it in your mouth for something to do. 

“Fine, I’ll be the one to say it,” Hyunjin half laughs, “Are we talking about fucking each other or protection detail?” 

It’s Minhos turn to take an uncomfortably large swig of beer and you have to force the small bite of chicken down your throat roughly. 

“I…well…” you stutter, “In this specific moment I’m talking about who is here in the house with me,” you clarify. 

“And what about outside this specific moment?” Minho asks for more clarification and you realize that the time has come, whether you were ready for it or not, to tell them both what you actually want. Is it what you want? You’ve never attempted a relationship that had more than two people in it, but none of those relationships turned out very well so you can’t really cite them as reliable sources, can you? 

“Honestly?” you inhale deeply and let it go, “Honestly, I wouldn’t be opposed to having you both in the other way at the same time, I’ve never done that before, it would be my first time - but the thought of it makes me wet just imagining it.” 

Hyunjin bites his bottom lip and sits back in his seat. To say you’re suddenly feeling warm is an understatement, so you chug the rest of your beer then get up for another. 

“What do you think about that?” Minho asks Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin licks his lips and you think you might combust, “Well, it wouldn’t be my first time,” he says with a smile that might be a little too proud, “it could be lots of fun,” he says avoiding eye contact with Minho and only looking at you. You swallow hard. 

“How many times have the two of you…” Minho starts, but you answer before he can finish.

“Hyunjin and I have never had sex,” you tell him, trying to keep any emotion from your voice like how it’s a bit disappointing that you’ve not slept with Hyunjin, or how you’re scared that Minho will be upset if you’d said you had, or how excited you are that you might actually get fucked by both of the men sitting with you at this table. 

“Hmm,” Minho nods, “I see.” 

“What do you think about it, boss?” Hyunjin finally looks at him, “We both said we didn’t want to share after all.” 

Only Hwang Hyunjin could look at Lee Minho and say that without it sounding like a challenge, like a threat. 

Minho exhales slowly and shrugs, “It may be a shock to some, but I’m not a closed minded man, however, I am a possessive one,” he looks at you and chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing with consideration, “so the answer to your question is that I’m not sure.” 

Your heart sinks a little, and you’re unsure of what to say. 

“We can work with possessive,” Hyunjin says, the corners of his mouth slipping into a coy smile, as if he’s flirting with Minho and your clit throbs, you can feel the way you’re soaked and you press your thighs together.

“Oh?” is all Minho responds with. 

“Mm,” Hyunjin nods, “I’m not a power player, I don’t have to be a top, I don’t have to be a bottom, I’m not picky, and you should know by now I’m very good at being told what to do.” 

You watch as Minhos expression changes, he looks at Hyunjin in a way you’ve never seen him look at any of his guys before, and then he looks at you, “You’re being awfully quiet now darling.” 

It takes you a solid three seconds to realize he’s talking to you, you’re gripping the neck of your beer so hard it might bust. 

“I’m just, thoroughly enjoying this conversation,” you grin. 

“How much?” he asks. 

Well. That was an invitation if you’ve ever heard one. You swallow your sip of beer and stand, shuffling out the wrinkles of your cotton skirt and step closer to him, “Would you like to see?” you ask, bunching up the skirt in your fists higher and higher until the tops of your thighs are exposed. 

Minho chews his lip as his fingertips trace delicate lines up your legs, finally disappearing beneath the fabric, pushing your panties to the side so he can swirl them in your arousal. You gasp, tilting your head back as he moves his fingers against you. 

“My, my,” he whispers, voice gravelly with want, and he looks as if he wants to knock everything off the table to fuck you on it. You wouldn’t be opposed. 

Hyunjin sits motionless on the other side, watching, and though you’ve never really considered how it would make you feel, you find that having him watch feels very good. 

Minho removes his fingers from your cunt and uses them to motion Hyunjin over. Your heart starts pounding. Hyunjin moves slowly, but you can see his erection straining against his pants. 

“So Hyunjin has never played with you?” Minho asks, his eyes on Hyunjin. 

“We’ve kissed…” you manage to speak between catching your breath. 

“But he’s never tasted you? Your pussy that is?” 

You shake your head back and forth. 

“Go on then,” Minho looks at him darkly, touching Hyunjins mouth with his fingertips, spreading your slick across his bottom lip. Hyunjin sucks Minhos fingers into his mouth hungrily, a groan escaping from somewhere deep in his chest. 

“I have to admit, knowing he’s not had you is pretty satisfying to me,” Minho chuckles, yanking his fingers from Hyunjins mouth, “I wonder how far I can push him before he comes undone?” he stands from the table, “Has everyone eaten? No ones starving anymore?” he asks the two of you and finishes off his beer. 

“Not for food,” Hyunjin comments and winks at you. 

“Then let’s go to the living room, shall we?” Minho grabs your hand and pulls you forward, Hyunjin following close behind. 

Minho kisses you deeply, then takes a seat in the armchair, “Why don’t you help our girl out of her pretty clothes?” 

“Gladly,” Hyunjin whispers, taking the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, he tosses it across the room then drops to his knees as you unzip the side of your skirt. He helps you shimmy it down into a pool of fabric around your feet and you step away from it. Hyunjin looks up at you, his eyes scanning your body, and he hooks his fingers into your underwear, pulling them slowly down your legs. 

“Don’t even think about putting your lips on her, not yet, I say when,” Minho instructs from the chair. Hyunjin freezes as if that’s exactly what he was about to do. 

“Yes sir,” Hyunjin grins. 

You want to interject and say that if Minho doesn’t give the go ahead soon, you might be the one coming undone, but you stay silent, you’re not sure what to do anyway, and something in your gut tells you it needs to happen like this, for them, in order for Minho to be right with it. 

“Sit on the sofa, Love,” Minho tells you and you sit, like a good girl, on the sofa then look at him for further instruction. He laughs, “You look so eager darling, so fucking turned on, do you want me to be nice for you?” 

“Yes,” you nod frantically, “Please.” 

“Do you want him to taste your cunt finally?” 

“Mmhmm,” you keep nodding, leaning back into the cushions, kneading your breasts. 

“Spread your legs for him, so he can see how fucking gorgeous you are,” he instructs. 

You nearly go out of your mind watching Hyunjin crawl between your legs, his fingernails raking red lines up your thighs. Hyunjin looks behind at Minho for permission. 

“First,” Minho halts him, “take your shirt and pants off, you look dreadfully uncomfortable.” 

Hyunjin smiles and tears his shirt over his head, then stands briefly to remove his trousers before resuming his position between your legs. 

“Now, make our princess cum,” Minho grins. 

Hyunjin does what he’s told, but he also takes his sweet time, licking and sucking kisses on the inside of your thighs and you wonder if he’s savoring the moment like you. This heated, passionate affair that seems to have been building up since the night you sewed stitches into his side. 

Finally, he grabs hold of your thighs roughly and drags you to the edge of the sofa, “you ready Doll?” 

“God, yes…” 

His tongue is eager against your flesh, but in true Hyunjin fashion, is also quick, soft, controlled and deliberate. He was told to make you cum, and he’s honing in on that target like his life depends on it. 

“How does it feel, baby?” Minho asks and you manage to turn your head towards him, “let’s hear you.” 

“It feels so fucking good, he’s so good at it,” you whimper, looking back down at Hyunjin. His eyes lock with yours and you watch as his tongue appears and disappears between your folds. You rest your head back onto the sofa and moan, your hips beginning to move in time with his mouth, you’re so close. 

“She’s about to cum, I can tell by her face,” Minho smiles, and you nod, unable to verbally confirm this, “let go baby, cum for him.” 

Minhos deep, gravelly command paired with Hyunjins soft tongue lapping at you pushes you far beyond your capacity to hold yourself back. Your body quakes as your orgasm ripples over and over, your clit becoming so sensitive you have to physically push Hyunjins face away with your hands and plea with a quiet “stop.” 

Hyunjin is totally out of breath as he sits back on his ankles, he wipes his mouth with his arm, eyes dark, and looks at Minho. 

“How close are you to busting?” Minho chuckles. 

“Very.” 

Minho licks his lips, then unzips his pants, releasing his own cock from the confines of his clothes. He strokes himself gently then nods his head towards you, “Go on then, she loves getting fucked right after you eat her out, don’t you baby?” 

“Yes,” you groan, “Very much.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate a moment before ripping his boxers down and kicking them away, he takes your shoulders and shoves you down onto the sofa, propping one of your legs on the back and sliding between. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll last,” Hyunjin warns. 

“It’s okay,” you breathe, “you don’t have to make me cum again.” 

“Yes he does,” Minho says coolly from the chair, “yes he fucking does.” 

“Heard,” Hyunjin manages to tease. 

Hyunjin lines himself up with you as you dig your nails into his shoulders, desperate for it, needing it. He pushes in slowly, and your eyes lock as he fills you to the hilt. Your lips part and you wiggle a bit, urging him to move, he does. He’s going impossibly slow, his brows knitted together in concentration. 

“Fuck you’re perfect,” he moans, his hips speeding up just a bit. You can’t help but steal a look at Minho, who watches you both from the same chair he’s been sitting in, slowly stroking himself, lip tucked tightly between his teeth. 

You lift your hips a bit to meet Hyunjins thrusts, sliding your hands down his sides, around his thighs to pull him closer, deeper. 

“Hyunjin,” you whisper, his name a plea for him to do something, though you’re unsure of what. Feeling his cock drag in and out, hitting some delicious spot within, watching Minho look and hearing his little gasps every time you whimper or moan might actually be your undoing. 

Hyunjins movements become more desperate, more erratic, and you’re sure he won’t be able to hold himself back much longer. You take his face in your hands and he looks at you, “Make me cum,” you gently drag his hand down to your neck, his breath stutters as he wraps his long, delicate fingers around your throat to hold you down gently while he fucks into you. You push back with every thrust, causing a rough but welcome collision and you cum so hard around his cock that you can feel it in your very bones. You cry out, hips bucking just a bit off the sofa as you spasm around him. 

He thrusts into you only twice more before freezing, his breath escaping in a muffled moan as he buries his face into your neck. 

Hyunjin pulls you towards him and captures your lips with his.

“Perfect,” he whispers. 

Minho finally makes his way to the couch, Hyunjin moves aside, practically collapsing. 

“Feel better?” Minho smiles, rubbing circles on your legs. 

You nod, claiming his hand in yours to lace your fingers together. 

He looks between your legs, “You’re a mess,” he drags the back of his finger up your slit, swirling Hyunjins leaking fluids around your own. You shudder with a gasp at the stimulation. 

“Come, let’s go upstairs,” Minho stands and extends his hand to you; he pauses briefly in front of Hyunjin and stares, then caresses his jawline with his thumb, “you did good, impressive. Come on.” 

Minho leads you both into the master bath where he reaches into the walk-in to start a shower. You step close to him and start undoing the buttons of his shirt, looking up at him as he strokes your hair. You continue silently undressing him until the three of you stand totally naked in the middle of your steamy bathroom. 

Minho grabs your chin with his fingertips and draws you into him, his mouth desperate for yours and your lips crash together with urgent moans. In your peripheral you can see Hyunjin step into the shower and rinse himself off, he reaches out and tugs on you and Minho, who barely takes his mouth off you to shuffle into the warm water. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Minho asks in a grunt as he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Wanted to be our needy little slut, so fucking pretty and sweet, getting fucked out by both of us?” he whispers as your back presses against the cold stone of the shower wall. 

You grin like the cheshire cat and nod, “Mmhmm.” 

Minho smiles and shakes his head at you before his lips overtake yours again, and you also feel Hyunjins hands roaming as he puts himself between your back and the wall, his body much warmer and less scratchy than the stone. You can feel Minhos hard erection sliding against your soaked pussy and your breath hitches. Hyunjins wet hands slide around your body and he fingers at your nipples, stroking and squeezing. Minho leans in and you watch through the steam as he takes Hyunjins mouth with his own, his cock rubbing against your clit as he positions himself to fuck you against Hyunjin. 

This exceeds even your highest expectation of what this experience would be like. Feeling Minho bouncing you on his cock while you listen to the two of them moan into each others mouths, Hyunjins fingers circling your clit gently while the other hand takes turns playing with your breasts and yanking your hair to tilt your head back for neck kisses. 

“Fuck,” you whine, the impossible ache inside you is building again, you can’t remember the last time you orgasmed three times in one evening, or if you ever have, but you’re going to. 

“Gonna cum for me Love?” Minho presses his forehead against yours, breathless, pumping his hips up into you. 

“Yes,” you half laugh in delirium, “Fuck, yes keep going…” 

You can feel his fingertips digging into the sides of your ass, feel how desperate he is to finish, you lean your head forward to kiss him, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting as you reach your high. Your orgasm comes out in a choked gasp, your body completely spent, and you feel him pull out a bit and spill himself all over your cunt. 

Hyunjin washes you off while Minho catches his breath then the three of you, unbothered to put on clothes or even dry off, collapse on your bed, drops of water everywhere but no one caring. 

You’re not surprised that Minho pulls you in immediately, wrapping his arm around you tight - possessive. 

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you sigh, eyes already shut and sleep getting closer and closer to overtaking you. 

“Pleasure isn’t a bad thing people,” Hyunjin yawns, switches off the lamp, then flips to his side to properly sandwich you in. His long, lean arm draped over you while his fingers massage circles on Minhos shoulder. “It’s not this thing that has to be confined in a specific little box, used for one specific purpose at a time like it isn’t supposed to just be this fun, enjoyable thing-,” 

“Hyunjin?” Minho grumbles with closed eyes. 

“Yes boss?”

“Stop talking and go to sleep.” 

“Yes boss,” he laughs.

Endnotes:

I think I'm going to try to tag my taglist besties in the comments this time and see how that goes and where it takes us.

As usual, if you've made it far enough to read this, here's your virtual smooch <3

[ryomens-vixen]

SUKUNA FLUFF! + HEADCANONS

Summary: It's more like we're "comforting" him.

Mentions: Sukuna being vulgar as usual, unwanted child, pregnancy, SA, 🤏 NSFW, Angst? idk what else. Good luck.

Word count: Ion fuckin know sis, reblog & ❤ please.

Lord Ryomen doesn't usually talk about his personal life as it was never important to him at all. Who were you, a mere concubine, a toy to him, to question him about anything regarding his life before this temple, before these servants, before he was given the name "King Of Curses".

One day you were leaving his room as you did almost every night after an the usual escapade of skin slapping, animalistic groans, moaning that could've been mistaken for ritualistic chanting. You were his favorite after all, but you couldn't help over hearing some of the head servants discussing the childhood of the four armed man you had just laid with.

"Do you think Master Ryomen... May have fallen for that one concubine he sends for almost more than he does the others?"

"You bet mind your tone, unless you want to be dismantled like the rest, we done want urame telling the Lord now do we..."

"I.. I deeply apologize, but doesn't it-"

"Absolutely, not! Master Ryomen is incapable of loving someone. If you can even consider favoritism as some form of love, then fine. But in love? Preposterous- Master Ryomen wasn't ever loved as a baby not by his mother or father. So what on earth makes you think he could love anyone?"

"Ah.. I suppose you have a point..."

"Of course I do, besides, THAT concubine is an odd one it wouldn't be long till he's tired of her and casts her aside like his other old toys. If you think about Master Ryomen is like a man child of some sorts, we take care of him, bring him new toys all for him to break them when he gets bored, then we're stuck cleaning up the mess..."

Just listening to the way his own servants speak amongst themselves about the man they serve made your heart absolutely ache. If he truly was never graced with the loving touch of a mother and father, then that must explain a lot of his behaviors. Were you truly his favorite? If that were true then it is an honor to be favorited by such a powerful entity, but it didn't make your heart pity and ache for him any less.

Every since you were brought to his temple as an offering from the village you had grown up in- All the stories that had been told about the king of curses ravaging, Pillaging, completely massacring villages, towns, anyone, and anybody in his path. Sacrifices of children, women and any alike were made to please him and keep him at bay.. Everyone feared him, but you.

The village you grew up in...a village full of men, where had all the women gone you always wondered, but that could only be answered by one thing.. They were sacrificed as well. Ryomen was your salvation in the hell hole that was this village..all they did was use you for the most dirtiest, filthiest, most deranged desires it was far worse than anything Ryomen could ever put you through.

Being a Toy for him for the best thing life could have ever offered to you, many think that this would be something unfortunate, but you.. You loved every bit of it just was much as you had come to love The King of curses himself. Always gentle with him even though he is always very rough with his playthings, showering him with the utmost respect, affection, and adoration. This all left Sukuna quite...perplexed. Why we're you not begging for your life? Why did you not put of a fight with him while being balls deep in your tight core? Why were you always so happy to see him? So kind? So caring? To be honest it made him needy in a way- just like tonight when he kick you out of his chambers.. He didn't actually want you to leave, but was too stubborn to say so. He wanted you by his side at all times and even caught himself fantasizing about massacring the other concubines so that he may have only you to himself.

Sukuna found himself feeling rather the disgusted when the other would dote onto him or throw themselves at him in a sorry attempt of gaining his "affection."

While he laid in bed poundering deep into thought about the current events, about the tightness in his chest he got every time you came into thought. It was all interrupted by his chamber doors bursting opening as he sat up in bed completely ok guard his intense gaze met your watery eyes.

"Women, I thought I told you to-"

"Lord Ryomen! Please hear me even if it's only for a second, I-"

"Oh? You choose now to beg for your precious life? Well, go on amuse me why don't you."

"Lord Ryomen... I- I love you! And not as a means of trying to gain your affection. I know you may not truly grasp the concept of...my feelings for you, but they are true. At least to me- "

The sound of your confession was nearly drowned out by the rapid beating of his heart, his chest only became tighter after hear those three words- it disgusted him. To know he was loved? No no that's not it- to know that deep down even though it confused him, caused him great uneasiness, worry even- it angered him to no end on the inside.. Why? Why did he feel this? He was no longer human and yet- Ryomen's heart it still beat? It still felt? It was the cause of these unwanted feelings, this need to be more gentle, this want to utter those three words that it impossible for him to not gag at the thought of them falling from his lips. Oh how he just wanted to rip his own heart out and dispose of it, but what would be the point? Would he still long for her gentle touch? To hear her call out his name as the two made "Love" to one another? To see that heart warming smile she wore every time he called for her?

"I know I'm just a peasant.. A toy for your entertainment, but Lord Ryomen I swear to you my feelings for you are true. I do not fear your touch, your power, or your presence in the slightest for I have been through worse... More than anyone can imagine. So until the day you are bored of me- I want you to know that you are more than just The King Of Curses, to me..you are my salvation, my home. You deserve to be respected because of how powerful you are- not out fear.. My Lord this is your playground and we are merely the pests that reside in it."

After some time, the only thing that could be heard was the silence between the two. Having stared at him to long- your hands clasped together, head bowing staring directly at your feet. Ryomen did not utter a single word or demand your way.. Just a long drawn out stare- hell if you were still looking you would be able to see the unreadable expression smeared across his face, but all you could do was stand there in a bow only to then heard the shuffling of his bed sheets to his feet gracing the floor as he stood up out of bed.

For a moment the thought of your life being over was the last thing to cross your mind out of any other thoughts until he finally spoke sounding as amused as ever.

"Hmm, did you rehearsal that? Y'know I'm not to fond of plays, but my, my, did a shitty little pest such as yourself put on quite the show for me? It what I would say if I were any amused-"

Did you mess up? He spoke in a more annoyed tone this time- maybe.. Maybe he's pulling your leg. Or maybe...

"Say it again-"

What? Was your first thought.

"That.. I am just a peasant-"

"No, no you incompetent pile of flesh- your affection. Say. It. Again."

"I- I love you, Lord Ryomen even if you are incapable of harboring those feelings yours i-"

That was it, all the fuel he needed to aggressively take you into his four arms, his lips crashing directly into yours, it was sloppy, but full of passionate. He squeezed your body so tightly it began to hurt even, but anything, anything to stop his heart from beating the way it did for you, and yet it only beats faster. Ryomen's entire life as he knew it changed so drastically that night, going from an unwanted child...to someone who was loved to deeply by one person. It not that he cared for it being feared by all was the best feeling imaginable for him it was better than being loved, but by you? It meant so much more he couldn't even begin to grasp it, but he knew that eventually that would be no way of hiding the way he felt much longer. He NEEDED you, he CRAVED you, if he could you could be the air that he breathes, but his pride and ego was far to big for that.

"Say it again-"

He held you down by your wrists and waist, his grip was so tight that you could almost feel yourself bruising like a fruit. Yet when you look up at him the expression he held was quite soft versus the threatening tone of his demand.

"I.. Love you, Lord Ryomen."

"Again!"

"I love you!"

"...Again"

"I love you... Ryomen Sukuna."

You feel the grip he had on your wrists letting up enough for there to be some wiggle room. His face became quite deadpanned the more he demanded you to say it "Again." Placing both your hands gently upon his cheeks giving them a repeated caress with your thumbs.

"My Lord, I love you."

"Again.. Y/N"

"I Love you."

"...."

"I love you."

"...."

"Ryomen..I love you."

He breath hitched, something about his eyes bothered him, they burned as he stared at his beloved concubine.

"What... What the hell are you some kind of witch? A damned sorcerer? W-what the hell are you doing to me-"

"I've done nothing, but love you my Lord, I could never dream of harming someone as- My- My Lord are you...?"

"Shut up, wench! You know you are at my mercy? I could tear you limb, from limb."

"Then I'll accept my fate, I love you..."

Oh your fate was sealed alright, in an unexpected turn of events.

[Now for some Dad!Kuna shall we?]

Dad!Kuna who was quite opposed to having a child of his own, but later convinced himself that it'd be best to have an heir to terrorize the world whenever he left this world.

Dad!Kuna who secretly hoped for you to birth him a son as he wasn't to find of the thought of having a daughter...or so he thought.

Dad!Kuna who desperately wanted to hold you in his strong arms thinking it would ease the pain from the labor you were going into. The sound of your pained screams did not sit well with him at all, this new feeling of... Anxiety washed over him as he waited upon his throne of bones.

Dad!Kuna who perked up at the shriek like cries of his new born baby, as much as he wished to dash into the room to see his new born child, he was overcome by his pride and worn an uninterested face to keep his reputation intact.

Dad!Kuna who looked even more disinterested when told that he has a beautiful healthy daughter, a damn daughter, how is a women suppose to rule? Terrorize? Be feared? He thought. Great- just great- this is now at all what he wanted.

Dad!Kuna who never once held his daughter, let alone taken care of her. But glanced at her a few times. One time he had followed you in the child's bedroom as she began to cry at dead of night- when he took a long look at his daughter, she looked like a combination of the both of you..beautiful. He huffed, and went back to his chambers only to be greeted by you and his weeping daughter who you just couldn't seem to get back to sleep.

"Ryomen do you mind holding our little Angel while I go fetch her blankie?"

"Ugh..." He grumbled allowing you to place "angel" on his chest as you rushed to find her blankie. Sukuna had a pout across his face as he watch Angel go from weeping and squirming around on his chest like some sort of worm to a little soft whimper as she began to calm down. Maybe it was the sound of his beating heart that soothed his fussy daughter or maybe it was the comfort of his intense presence. As long as she was done crying then he'd allow it, placing a hand on her small back almost as if he were guarding her from God knows what. Sukuna stared at his daughter in contentment.

Secretly, you stood off to the side of your doorway as you had already started to pick up on Sukuna being the source of your daughter's comfort. Even though he seemed to have no interest in her, your Angel seemed to be quite connected to her father, it was quite cute to witness.

Dad!Kuna who would dread the days where you would leave him with the baby to take care of outside business away from the temple, and as much as he would like to turn his daughter's care over to his servants, he just couldn't stand the thought of you leaving alone.

Dad!Kuna who would rest atop of his throne only to be startled by the shrieking of his "Angel", but this cry wasn't like the others, it sounded like nails against a chalkboard it made him want to tear out of own his as he angrily made his way to the bedroom she was left in. She's just a baby, she doesn't know any better, she'll grow onto you. These words Sukuna tried to keep in mind as you have said them time and time again as he scooped her up into his four arms trying to gently bounce her how he saw you do once or twice.

"Shut up-"

"I said Stop your excessive whaling!"

There was a brief moment of silence after he yelled at her, those wet, big, beady eyes staring back at him, then the crying started up again, but much much louder sending Sukuna in a slight panic as he just couldn't think of what to do except lay down with her on his chest.

"Shhh.. Shhh.. I- ugh I'm here, stop fucking crying already."

"Daddy's here.."

Dad!Kuna who fell asleep guarding his little angel on his, waking up a few times whenever she would wriggle, or kick her little feet, or grab at him chest.

Dad!Kuna who would barely allow you or anyone to hold her unless she needed to be changed or fed, he just felt this animalistic urge to protect his little baby girl from anything and everything.

Dad!Kuna would praise her for every little achievement, a big burp, pissing on a servant, learning how to crawl. Sometimes he would place her on the floor and watch as she would crawl after him frantically, sukuna found this so amusing in the cutest way possible even her little frustrated baby noises were cute to him.

Dad!Kuna who would sometimes let her play with his stomach mouth.

Dad!Kuna would laugh maniacally at her attempts of mimicking his intimidating growls and bellowing whenever he was annoyed or displeased.

Dad!Kuna who hated hearing his little girl cry for him each time he left the temple to do what? Cause mayhem? Her little "Dada!" Would absolutely tug at his heart. Her screams for him as he pushed on made him want to turn back and just hold her in his arms.

Dad!Kuna who would encourage her to walk on her own and to not cry when she fails because she is strong like her father.

Dad!Kuna who would one day insist- no no demand that you give him another for no other reason than "continuing his bloodline" when really he wanted another child because he was absolutely in love with the first one that he need to have a second as he was getting a handle on this whole Fatherhood thing.

Dad!Kuna would tell his daughter stories of his reign of terror as if she could even remotely understand a word that came out if his mouth.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Chaotic Dumbassery (Soft Yandere!Friend x Thembo!Reader)

I know I haven't been working on people's submissions, prioritizing kinktober, but I'm having a really tough time and need some light humor in my life

GN!Reader, mild manipulation, mostly fluff ❤️

Hughie was labeled as a "genius" early on in his childhood. At the age of five his parents were already discussing with the local elementary school about starting him off in a higher grade. Despite all of the praises Hughie received from adults, their compliments felt hollow, and the more they pushed him to accelerate his growth realize his potential, the further he felt isolated from the people around him. Emotionally, it was like being trapped as an exhibit in a zoo. They all smiled down at him and cooed, but he could not feel them.

Then, Hughie met (Reader).

Wasting his summer before school began, his parents inside speaking to teachers about letting Hughie skip kindergarten, no one noticed when he slipped out, wandering the empty halls to the playground, where surprisingly a child was playing in the dirt with their parent sitting nearby.

Fat little fingers were poking into the dirt beneath a tree, filling the holes with seeds. Hughie often had no problem speaking to adults, but he didn't have many opportunities to interact with other kids his own age. Nervous to the point of nausea, he approached the kid, gripping his ugly grey polo aggressively enough to stretch out the shirt.

"What are you doing?"

The kid covered in dirt wearing a pizza sauce stained Batman shirt looked up at Hughie with excitement so powerful he could physically feel it burning his face like sun beams. "Planting bird seeds!"

"Oh. Why?"

"To grow birds. Duh." They went back to poking holes and planting the seeds.

The little boy with black curly hair was shocked. He didn't know everything about reproduction, but he knew that birds came from eggs. It was the first time he had ever heard something so preposterous, and it kind of stupefied him. Crouching down to get closer to the strange little kid, Hughie felt star struck. "I don't think that's how birds are made."

"Yuh-huh! Whenever Granny throws seeds out, birds grow, and then in the morning they fly away "

"I think they eat the seeds.."

(Reader's) eyes went wide, dropping their fistful of bird food while whipping around to face Hughie. "Huh?"

"Birds come from eggs."

Standing up quickly, Hughie could see that the kid's knees were covered in bandaids, something he never really needed. They looked down at him like he just told them that Santa wasn't real. "What?!" Before he could reiterate his answer Hughie's arm was grabbed by the much stronger stranger, dragging him over towards the woman sitting on the bench. "Mom!"

"Yes?" The woman smiled with heavy, exhausted eyes.

"Do birds come from eggs?!"

"Yes? Why?"

(Reader) dropped Hughie's hand, their brain malfunctioning under the new information. Hughie started to worry that maybe he had upset them, that maybe he shouldn't have told them the truth, when they suddenly grabbed him by his shoulders, violently shaking him. "What is your name, smarty pants?!"

"Hu-Hughie!" The wild swaying of his head affecting his speech.

"I'm (Reader)! You wanna go catch crickets?"

"Sure-"

"Hughie!" His father's voice cut him off, the smartly dressed man finally finding his son and descending onto the playground. "Don't disappear like that."

"I'm sorry."

"Let's go back inside. The teachers have some questions for you." He said excitedly, motioning towards the school.

Hughie felt a sense of dread. He was smart, really smart, which meant that he knew if he passed the tests waiting for him, he wouldn't be able to be in a class with kids his own age. Which meant that he wouldn't be able to make friends.

"No."

Hughie latched onto (Reader), and decided to act his own age.

"I want to go catch crickets with (Reader)!"

"Yeah!" (Reader) replied, glaring up at the stranger as sassily as a five year old could.

Although that interaction ended with (Reader's) mother apologizing, holding back her child from kicking the man in his shins, and Hughie's father carrying him kicking and crying up to the classroom, it was ended in Hughie's favor. He purposely failed his tests, and when school started up, he was placed in the same kindergarten as (Reader).

The two became inseparable, much to his parents' dismay.

It only got worse as they got older, and even the teachers took notice of Hughie's "double life".

By the last year of middle school, Hughie already proved himself smart enough to get his GED and be enrolled in any university of his choice. But (Reader) didn't know that.

Hughie's mother sighed heavily, finding (Reader) on her doorstep. Hey disdain for the teenager wasn't concealed in the slightest, but it didn't phase (Reader).

"Mornin', Mrs. G! I'm here to pick up the H-bomb."

"I could drive you two." She grimaced. "It's dangerous for two children to walk to school."

"Oh, we won't be walking." (Reader) smiled.

Hughie rushed past his mom, smiling just as brightly as (Reader). "'Sup!"

"Please let me drive you-"

"Bye Mom!" Hughie cut her off, giving her a warning glance before bouncing back to his reflection of (Reader's) joyful attitude. "Let's go, (Reader)."

The two friends ran down to (Reader's) homemade "scooter", an extra wide plank of thin wood with wheels screwed on, painted with flames. It was made by (Reader) and their mom to have enough space for at least three teenagers to comfortably ride, four if they squish together tightly and held on for dear life. It was a hazard, and Hughie loved it.

He loved everything about (Reader), actually. Since he began purposefully fucking up his grades just enough to never get moved up, he had made a good friend group, a group a guys that were a lot of fun to get into trouble with, but his best friend was (Reader). Many people joked that the two were already an old married couple, which (Reader) leaned into, completely unaware of Hughie's feelings. It was strange. And he couldn't explain it to anyone.

(Reader) was his best friend; a sibling; a partner in crime; and someone Hughie recently found himself wanting to kiss silly.

They rode down the sidewalk at top speeds, bumping over rocks dangerously. Hughie wanted to wrap his arms around their waist but couldn't until they picked up their other buds. They stopped by Brody's house, watching him run away from his wooden spoon wielding Grandma, then at Everett's, which finally allowed Hughie the excuse of hugging (Reader). It didn't matter if Brody clung to him similarly; just as long as he was the only one holding (Reader).

The four idiots of Jackson Middle School traveled faster than any of the cooler students on skateboards, speeding recklessly with the force of four teenagers pushing the wooden beast.

Teachers and parents gave disapproving sneers as they barely stopped in time to prevent themselves from crashing into the arriving school buses. Mr. Stone especially.

(Reader) dragged the transportation over to the bicycle rack laughing with Hughie over the fear in the bus driver's eyes when they nearly collided into the side of the bus.

"I don't know why she was so mad, it's not like we were gonna damage the bus!" Brody loudly complained, arms behind his head.

No, it was because we could have gotten hurt. Hughie smiled, not voicing his thoughts out loud. (Reader) wouldn't have this kind of fun with him if they knew that this wasn't his real personality. Calm and studious, Hughie naturally didn't enjoy being outside. He was a nerd at heart, and would prefer reading in solitude to participating in sports. But he would do anything to spend more time with (Reader).

Mr. Stone appeared before the quartet, smiling tightly. "May I have a word, Mr. Gressler?"

(Reader) stuck a finger in their nose. "Huh? He's not on the clock yet."

Everett rolled back his shoulders too try to look bigger. "Yeah, we haven't had breakfast yet."

"I'll catch up with you guys." Hughie waved at them, shooing them away. They left for the cafeteria, still making snarky remarks towards their teacher.

As soon as they were out of sight Hughie's face changed, losing all of his good humor and patience. "What did you want to talk about, Mr. Stone." His teacher's name tasted bitter, so he spit it out.

"Let's go to the principal's office."

They quickly walked through the halls, irritating Hughie. He knew what this was about, and he wasn't interested in the slightest.

Once inside the office, Mr. Stone closed the door, trapping Hughie inside with the grinning older Principal Wells. "Please, have a seat, Hughie." She offered politely.

"No thanks. I need to go to breakfast, so I'd like to make this quick." His hands were in his pockets, and his body leaning on one leg, emphasizing his boredom.

Mr. Stone cleared his throat. "We've been talking about moving your classes around.."

"Why?" His cracking voice snapped.

"We've noticed that.. I believe that your friends aren't the best influence on you." Stone took a deep breath, looking to the principal for assistance.

"After speaking to your teachers I learned that you do exceptionally well when you aren't paired up with one of your friends. If it's a test, or a solo project, your work is incredible. No matter what the subject is, you exceed in every class.. but when you have a project you have to present to a class, in your classes you have with a student named (Reader), you disrupt the day by presenting very odd topics. And when you work with (Reader), you mess around the entire time or create chaos." The principal was referring to two specific instances; Hughie's presentation on how WW2 was responsible for the creation of hentai, and the science fair project he worked on with (Reader) trying to prove that Birds weren't real. Both times he chose the topics just to see (Reader's) face light up.

"Hugh, you're an incredibly bright young man. We want to see you excel." Mr. Stone pleaded.

"I'm not moving up. I'm staying in my classes. We haven't caused any major disruptions that could have interfered with other students learning, and may I remind you that we both got an A minus on that science fair project?" He turned to leave, done with dealing with adults he knew he was smarter than. "And if you move around my classes, I'll go to the superintendent, and the school board. You're discriminating against my fellow students because you believe them to be stupid."

"We never said-"

"I'm not an idiot. They're bad examples on me because we have fun? That isn't the argument you think it is."

"Mr. Gressler, come back here-"

"Unless I'm in trouble, then no. You aren't allowed to prevent me from having breakfast. And if you continue I'll call my mother." Hughie was cold, indifferent. He knew what they were saying, but it was the exact same shit he'd been hearing since he was three years old. He's special, so he's not allowed to act his age.

He left the office and stomped towards the cafeteria. He knew they wouldn't stop embarrassing themselves, but he also refused to back down.

Inside the lunch hall, (Reader) was having a battle with the boys, construction French toast sticks into action figures with pretzel sticks. The sight of (Reader) focused on the fight made Hughie feel funny, releasing an eruption of butterflies. It was okay if he continued lying to his friends, because he could continue playing with them like this.

"Dude, I got you some!" (Reader) held out a plate. They had no idea how much Hughie loved them.

His smile fell, feeling suddenly very hot.

"Dude, you okay?" Everett asked out of concern. "Did you get in trouble or something?"

Hughie couldn't answer, taking the plate silently while avoiding eye contact. Quickly shoving in pretzel crackers like nails, he constructed his own breakfast warrior. "FEEL MY WRATH, LOSERS!"

The friends instantly forgot about their worrying, watching as Hughie's creation punched (Reader's) creation's head off.

It was okay if Hughie kept pretending to be a dumbass, because it was more fun that way. He would gladly sacrifice his entire future to fuck around with (Reader) for the rest of his life. He could see himself, in the future, sharing an apartment with his three amigos, working at some dead end job, playing video games every night after work. It would be better than if he went off to some college and became a lawyer.

If only he could ignore the erratic beating of his heart.

[witches-dream]

Destroy yourself, or save me

Soul Jam Eater AU with Goldenspice

Chapter 4!!!

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3]

[you're here!]

A/N: Originally chapter 4 was gonna be looong, but i haven't posted in a while and this is already at about the length of the previous, chapter, so sure I'm gonna post it and what was gonna be the second half of chapter 4 shall be chapter 5. Enjoy!!

(also im gonna start putting a portion of the chapters under cut to save space lmao i don't like long posts that take a while to scroll past. And I'm gonna apply that to past chapters as well)

***

After last night, Golden Cheese's hands got badly burnt, so she had to spend the following few days with hands dipped into the healing springs. The atmosphere wasn't exactly pleasant, as the servants now distrusted Burning Spice even more than before. This extended especially to the man who entered the room where Goldie and Mozzarella were playing word games to pass the time.

"Hey there, Smoked Cheese~" Mozzarella sang.

"Smokes! Came to entertain your queen?"

"I'm here to discuss a serious matter, Your Majesty."

Goldie knew what this was about, but she was willing to listen. "Your Queen shall hear you out."

"I know Your Radiance has got sights on the legendary weapon, but Burning Spice... That man knows nothing but destruction. He is a dangerous individual, and I believe it will be best for all of us, Your Radiance especially, to give him up." Smoke spoke with conviction, but Goldie did not falter for a second.

"Unacceptable. I am not going to back down on my decision," she said, and Smoke's face darkened under his mask.

Of course, Goldie thought, Smoked Cheese didn't know what happened that night. Burning Spice may be violent, but he is not cruel; she saw the way he went silent when realizing he was wrong. And she heard his voice go calm and serious when it was about working together. And on the way back, though mockingly, he offered to carry her home. She knew there was good in him somewhere, and she was committed to dragging it out, by force if necessary.

"Besides," Mozzarella added with a chuckle, "Smoke, you were a lot like him in the beginning."

"What? Preposterous." He seemed genuinely confused at the remark, but Goldie could totally see Mozzarella's point.

"Oh yeah! Was it not you who said, 'prove your worth before you can claim me'. I was just a child back then, and fighting you was a real pain!" Golden Cheese laughed.

"You were just as defiant and rebellious as him." Mozzarella continued, watching Smoke's face get red. "Actually, no, you still are~"

"Exactly! And look at you now, all concerned about your queen!"

"Respectfully, him and I are vastly different. He takes pleasure in hurting you, My Queen. He's a lost cause." Smoke tried to defend his point, but it didn't seem like Golden Cheese or Mozzarella took him seriously.

"Maybe that's the way you see it, and I might agree to some extent," Mozzarella said, "But I'm simply curious about how this is going to go."

Smoked Cheese furrowed his eyebrows, but didn't add anything else.

"Smoked Cheese, I appreciate your concern for my well-being, but I wouldn't be your Ever-Radiant Queen if I didn't have everything under control."

"Your hands are ruined." He said, doing his best to look away from the wounds.

"They will heal in no time. This is a necessary sacrifice to claim what's mine." She was being childish, Smoked Cheese thought, and yet her smile was mature and resolute. When she was like that, there was no point in arguing.

"Very well... Your Radiance knows her limits far better than her advisor does." He put on his usual tricky smile.

Smoked Cheese sighed and prepared to leave, but Golden Cheese got up from her seat and hugged him. If he had been in a better mood, he would've made fun of how short she is, with the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders, but he could also feel the way she avoided touching him with the palms of her hands.

"Excuse me, Golden Cheese, I have matters to attend to."

"Sure, you're free to go." Goldie smiled at him after lingering for just that bit longer. She watched her subject go before returning to the springs.

"Did you hear the way he switched?" Mozzarella asked after a moment of silence.

"You mean from 'My Queen' to 'Golden Cheese'?"

"I was talking moreso about the way he went from standing his ground to sucking up to you like he does whenever he finds you disagreeing with him," Mozzarella hummed. "But, yes, it seems that you hugging him made him slip up."

"Oh yeah, I suppose he does do that." Goldie chuckled. "It's just that he only refers to me by my name in a more casual setting, so suddenly showering him in affection like that took him aback~"

"So? Are you gonna do anything about him... Both of them, actually?" Mozzarella asked. Goldie looked away, deep in thought.

"Nah... No need." She shook her head. "I trust our Smokes. And as for Spice, I'll tame him like a wild animal if I need to."

"I'm looking forward to that." Mozzarella smiled.

After some time, Mozzarella relocated to her office with giant holographic screens and keyboards that looked like they required more hands than just two. One could think that she would be programming a rocket to go into space, but 9 times out of 10 she would actually be playing games.

Without knocking, Burning Spice slammed open the door. All the tech in the room was so beyond his comprehension that his brain decided it would be better to ignore it completely.

"Where's Cheese?"

"In the healing springs, why?" Mozzarella said, smiling gently. "Are you worried about Her Majesty?"

"Couldn't care less," Spice blurted, "I'm bored outta my fucking mind." As he was about to exit the room, Mozzarella spoke up.

"Wanna play a game of chess? Or senet perhaps?"

Burning Spice looked at her like she was crazy, before laughing like a maniac. "Games? Who cares about shit like that?"

"I was not aware you were someone who turns down a challenge." Mozzarella teased.

"You think I haven't played all these silly games to death in my time? There's only one thing I want, and that's--"

Burning Spice was interrupted by an obnoxious alarm that rang throughout the room.

"Oh, it seems like there's trouble in the town." Mozzarella turned to her computer and clicked a few buttons to reveal a map with a blinking red dot on it.

"... Why the fuck do you have cat noises for your alarm of all things?!" Spice shouted over the noise.

"Cuz it's funny, obviously?" Mozzarella laughed and turned it off.

Golden Cheese burst into the room.

"It looks like we have a mission on our hands!" She proclaimed, but got weird looks instead.

"Your hands, Your Radiance..." Mozzarella drawled.

"What kind of queen would I be if I couldn't handle a couple of burns?!"

"That's the spirit!" Spice cheered.

Mozzarella shook her head and sighed. "Don't encourage her..."

Burnt and Smoke entered the room, and Burnt said:

"We will handle this."

Golden Cheese looked over everyone in the room and clapped her hands (regretting it immediately).

"My bright mind just got a great idea!" She proclaimed, and stepped aside to perfectly frame her four weapon partners. "You four can go!"

"Four?" Smoked Cheese couldn't believe his ears.

"You must grow a bond, for you are neighbors and and battle companions now."

"Those slugs will just get in my way," Spice roared, showing his axe blade at the ready.

"I understand the thought behind your decision, Your Radiance, but this is redundant." Burnt Cheese commented, collected as always. "I believe just two are enough for this mission."

"Come now, heed your queen's words and obey her orders!" Golden Cheese's voice rang across the room, loud and clear, and the weapons were forced to bow to her authority. All except Burning Spice.

"We need to get moving then!" Mozzarella did a little stretch and headed out, following Smoke and Burnt.

Spice followed suit, reluctantly, while muttering, "This is better than nothing." He shot a glare at Goldie when he passed her, but she just smiled. It made his blood boil. He needed to take it out on whatever monster they were going to fight, or he swears there'll be nothing left of the castle.

***

A/N: I'm having trouble writing Spice in a way that doesn't just make him annoying ;-; hopefully i don't end up writing him wildly out of character lmao (why is it that when i imagine stories, they're ✨perfect✨ but when i sit down to write them, they're just nooot 😭😭😭)

[000marie198]

what happens if sonic goes baby and tails and the other have to watch him would it be the same with tails and would sonic recognize his brother or no

If Sonic alone gets turned into a baby, he doesn't hold the memories of his older self but the bonds and feelings and sensations are there. He instinctively knows his friends are people he can trust. He gets picked up by one of them and he just knows that these are family, that he is safe with them. He doesn't consciously remember Tails, but he knows Tails. A part of him knows that's his brother... He feels the most comfortable and happy around him.

Now, please enjoy some baby shenanigans under the cut :]

..........

Sometimes he wants uppies. He'd keep tugging at Tails' sock to get attention and then hold up his arms with a whine. Tails leaves everything to pick him up and hold him so Sonic could happily snuggle up in the floof.

......

Other times he would wanna be placed down. He'll struggle and whine and kick his legs and kick and kick and kick till he's placed on the ground. Baby cheers and runs off, instinctively holding his arms forward for balance.

He is two apples tall and he's running before he even learns to crawl.

.......

He doesn't want milk, give him those delicious smelling chilidogs instead.

"You can't eat chilidogs right now, you're too small."

He doesn't care, Amy, put it in a blender and give him chilidogs.

..........

Something startles him, makes him sad or gets him angry and he'll find Tails to complain about it even though he only talks in babbles. Tails gets the gist of it somehow?! It surprises others but the bros know how to read each other, they don't need words to communicate. That is made clear when Sonic grumbles at one point, then Tails gives him an unimpressed raised eyebrow and baby Sonic whines, his ears lowered. They are clearly discussing something but no one can tell what.

.........

Amy. Please ease up on the doting Amy, you're spoiling him Amy, that's a lot of toys and blankies and mittens and beanies and socks Amy, AMY

.......

Knuckles doesn't hold baby Sonic like you would an infant child, he always holds him like :

Then he'll carry Sonic outside into the sunlight because nature and daylight is good for him. Only to lower his wiggling feet in a stream to spook him, just a little. It's funny. Baby Sonic gets back at him by biting.

He carries the mad child back to the workshop and complains to Tails only for the fox to go, "Well you shouldn't have scared him then, that's what you get," while picking Sonic who grabs onto Tails and blows Knuckles a raspberry. He's taking the gremlin's side, unbelievable.

.........

You take baby Sonic to a Chao garden or somewhere similar and he'll be glomped by chaos or critters or flickies or wisps just like his older self always is. The smol creatures recognize him and adore him still. Baby Sonic is giggling the whole time.

..........

He sits on Tails' head and steers him by the ears and Tails follows along with pretended jerky movements and monotone robotic voice. Sonic giggles. He's piloting a giant robot :] It's only fair the 'giant robot' ends up being led towards a fridge with his head lowered in front of the shelf holding his own juice and he pulls back with an indignant shout when his gremlin babified brother steals his juice by using him. Preposterous! Betrayal! Tails says it all in the most dramatic manner much to the laughter and amusement of baby Sonic.

.......

Aside from this one, there are a few baby Sonic posts I've made which are more inclined towards the Prime Bros au and you can find 'em on my blog in the 'baby sonic' tag, hope you enjoy them too.

I adore baby Sonic so so so much! He's my little son I love him.

[coloursflyaway]

Won’t Fear Love (5/6)

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.600

Read on AO3

„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment.

If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him.

or:

Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.

tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality

Charles won’t tell him where they are going. Again.

It’s the second Wednesday of the month, just after five pm and Charles just takes him to the mirror in the office, hand lightly grasping Edwin’s wrist, and expects him to walk through with him. Now, for someone else, this could be exciting, but Edwin has never really appreciated surprises, not even by the person he loves most in the world.

He’s about to ask Charles again, but he’s beaten to it, because Charles smiles and slips his hand down until he can intertwine their fingers, then asks, “Do you trust me?” What an utterly preposterous question.

Does he trust Charles? More than anything else in the world, more than himself.

Edwin sighs, resists the urge to roll his eyes and Charles’ smile makes up for it tenfold, no matter if it is a little smug around the edges. Maybe he has a right to be.

The world fades and appears again, and Edwin expected something different. He’s not quite sure what, but behind the mirror is the roof of their own building, the sun bright and the sky blue for a change.

“I know this is probably not as extravagant as you imagined it”, Charles starts to explain, almost sounding bashful, as if Edwin would care about where they are spending their evening and not simply about who he is spending it with. “I had something else planned, but then I saw the weather and I thought it would be such a shame to waste it. I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Disappointed by you? Never”, Edwin answers and it should feel like saying too much, but it doesn’t. Instead of an answer, he gets a smile that puts the sun to shame, and a tug to his wrist as Charles pulls him forward.

“We have discussed the problem with how much of dating revolves around food before, I know, but I wanted to prepare at least something so it’s not just us sitting on the roof and watching the sunset”, he explains, looking a little sheepish as he takes Edwin to where a chequered picnic blanket is spread across the rough concrete. “It’s probably a bit silly, but I just wanted to do something special.”

He’s leaving out part of the sentence, Edwin can hear it clearly, but it takes a moment until he fills in the blanks: for you. Charles wanted to do something special for him, and Edwin feels his non-existent heart seize up in his chest; doesn’t know how Charles hasn’t yet realised that anything he does for him is special to Edwin.

“So, I got all this”, Charles says and sits down, pulling Edwin with him. Next to him is a picnic basket that looks like it’s been taken directly out of a movie, made from wicker and with a small handle to carry it across open fields, before settling down next to a creek, or maybe in the shade of an old oak tree. And then, Charles whips it open.

Inside, packed tightly to fit everything, is an assortment of children’s toys.

Colourful plastic moulded into facsimiles of cake slices and finger sandwiches. Dollops of whipped cream made from styrofoam, different kinds of fruit that look like they have been felted, rubber croissants that still look fluffy, delightful in an unreal way. Tucked in around the toys are cups and plates made from fine china, metal cutlery, a tea pot that Edwin knows he has seen in Crystal’s kitchen before.

It’s silly, Charles is right. It’s the most lovely thing Edwin has ever seen in his life.

“You, Charles Rowland”, he starts and has to blink back a tear or two, “are the sweetest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“So you like it?”, Charles asks, like he still isn’t certain of the answer, but he smiling at Edwin, he’s still holding his hand, thumb brushing over Edwin’s knuckles. “I love it”, he answers; adds, if only in thoughts, I love you.

“Charles, would you pass me a slice of cake?”, Edwin asks after they have watched the sunlight for a little while, comfortable silence stretching between them. “It looks scrumptious.” “You want me to-”, Charles starts and then stops himself, a smile blooming on his face that makes Edwin think of falling, makes him think of flying. “Yes, of course. Would you like some tea with that?”

“That would be delightful”, Edwin replies and takes the delicate cup Charles hands him. “Also, maybe some of that clotted cream?”

And they have a picnic right there on the rooftop, sharing smiles and little touches and plastic pastries alike.

There are children’s toys strewn around them, mostly forgotten, and they are still sitting on the picnic blanket, watching as the sun sets over London. It’s beautiful up here, enough distance between them and the city to drown out the noise and make it feel like it’s just them, and while Edwin likes their new life with all the new people it includes, he misses this sometimes. Misses a world in which he never looked up and not saw Charles next to him, a world in which they had been so intertwined that Edwin never considered it could be otherwise.

What he doesn’t miss, though, is not knowing what the warmth in his chest is when he looks over at Charles. Maybe it was easier back then, when he thought the urge to touch Charles was nothing more than friendship, but it’s better now. Because Charles deserves to be loved, and Edwin, above all else, wants to be the one to love him.

If they end this experiment and Charles decides that he only wants Edwin as a friend, then so be it. Edwin will love him to the fullest extent, the best of his ability, as long as he exists. And that, in the end, would be enough.

“What are you thinking about?”, Charles asks softly, and Edwin tears his gaze away from where the sun is just so touching the outlines of the skyscrapers in the distance. He’s beautiful, something Edwin has known since the first moment he had set eyes on Charles, freezing and scared and dying and yet so ready to accept Edwin in his life. Maybe that had been the moment all of this had started, not when Charles had chosen to stay with him, because Edwin’s love had never been about reciprocation, but when he had first allowed Edwin to sit down next to him and granted him a smile.

“Nothing in particular”, he replies, and knows that Charles won’t believe him, but that’s alright. It’s not like it is something he is trying to hide, just something they don’t have to discuss right now, when the sun is setting and he’s still buzzing from their fingers brushing when they pretended to split a croissant between them.

And Charles doesn’t bring it up, just nods and scoots a little closer until their shoulders are pressed together. He’s not looking at Edwin, but out across the city, so Edwin does the same, lets his head rest against Charles’ shoulder and wishes he could breathe in deeply, make out Charles’ scent between everything else this moment has to offer.

“You know”, Charles says, and shifts so he can wrap his arm around Edwin’s shoulders, holding him close. “I think about you a lot. Always have, really. And all this dating hasn’t made it less, but I’m pretty sure you already know that.”

He shifts again, and for a horrible moment, Edwin thinks he will pull away, but then there are lips pressing against the crown of his head, and instead, time stands still, lets him take it in. It feels like peace, like excitement, like something Edwin could live without but never wants to again.

“And you know I love you, don’t you?”, Charles says and time moves again, makes Edwin’s heart ache and jubilate at the same time. He does. “I love you the most.”

Edwin nods without moving his head, wishes he could feel the coarse fabric of Charles’ jacket against his cheek, the heat of his blood beneath it. For a moment he wants to repeat the words, because they are true, but Charles already knows. Might have always known.

A finger on the side of his chin, gently lifting it, and Charles is saying, “Hey, look at me for a sec?”

And Edwin sits up, Charles’ arm sliding off his shoulders as he turns to face him. He misses it almost immediately, but there is something in Charles’ eyes that makes it so easy to forget the fact. They are warm and dark and they are watching Edwin like he is something precious, something worth keeping.

There are no words, Charles just looks at him, and it’s almost like a physical touch; it makes Edwin shiver, even though he cannot feel it. Because Charles is smiling like he has never smiled before, lets the finger that is still resting against Edwin’s jaw slide downwards until he can gently grasp his chin, as if he was afraid that Edwin could ever look away again.

A moment, a breath, and then Charles leans in and brushes the softest, the sweetest kiss against his lips.

It’s not his first, but it feels like it anyway, feels like a beginning and feels like an end. Let me have this, he thinks, not for the first time. Let me love him.

And then, he doesn’t think anymore at all, and kisses Charles back.

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.12

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - Shanda begins to see the depth of Benjicot Blackwood.

Warnings - fem!reader, suspense, adult language, period typical misogyny, condescension, adult language, kissing, manipulation, benjicot brainrot, Kieran Burton fancast.

Word count - 2k

Screaming, crying, throwing up. Forgive me bc I have never written a scene like this. Ahhhhhh

Shanda looked away from Benjicot while he pulled the rest of the books. She scolded herself mentally. She was supposed to be cutting down on the blushing maiden business. But she couldn’t really help it, he was so interesting to look at. Most of the lords that called on her were older men. Some of them were surely nice enough but with a few too many years behind their belts. Worse though was the ten year old boy lord that had showed up at her door one day. She had entertained the boy with games and books but promptly refused to talk any nonsense about marriage. He should find some nice nine year old girl and try his luck there. The lord had thrown a fit at that but then he was only ten. So, it was nice to look at a man who wasn’t ancient or still in diapers. A rarity it seemed these days.

Benjicot took the seat beside her when he returned rather than the one across that would've been proper. He had a stack of books and carefully arranged them on the table around the map. She was busy looking at said map and admiring the pretty pictures painted on there. She had a sneaking suspicion Alysanne had done them but didn’t bring it up. She could ask the lady herself later and receive a more upfront answer than if she asked Benjicot. He was sitting so close to her, she could feel the body heat radiating off of him.

“This one is about the fish that swim in the Red Fork.” He said pointing at a book with a blue cover. “And this one is on wooden architecture, there is some good information about wood carving in there.”

She looked at him inquisitively. “What about books on battle tactics? Or perhaps the history of Raventree?”

He frowned. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“I know, it's weird.” He was obviously avoiding any subject that would start them arguing. But she was the one needling him now. He had a limit and she wanted to find it.

“It’s not weird. And what you’re trying to do isn’t going to work.” He smirked at her.

She steamed beside him. He couldn’t be a brute so hot headed that they nicknamed him bloody ben and infinitely patient enough to never get annoyed with her. The two traits were at complete odds with each other. And Shanda was very good at getting on people’s nerves. Very slowly and deliberately she pushed a stack of books off of the table. The thud echoed in the room. She smiled sweetly at him while he picked them back up. He placed them away from her reach the second time.

“Are you going to act like a child the entire time?”

She shrugged at him. “Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

“While you make up your mind, why don’t you stay quiet?”

Then he began to read from a book aloud, leaving no time for her to reply.

“It is said that the heart tree is the embodiment of the old gods themselves. The leaves resemble hands, and carved upon every trunk is a face.”

“Wait a minute. I don’t want to hear this.” She said, shaking her head.

Shanda followed the faith of the seven and had no desire to learn about the old gods or their twisted trees. And she didn’t know why he would want to discuss it. The Blackwoods were incredibly touchy about the subject, having blamed her family for the poisoning of their own heart tree. Which was preposterous of course, how would a Bracken even sneak in to find it? But he continued to read as if he hadn’t heard her.

“A man cannot tell a lie in front of a heart tree, the old gods can always tell. The roots drink the blood of the slain, the earth turns a rich dark color as a result.”

She stood up from the table then and began trying to take the book from his hands. But even with both of her hands pulling, she couldn’t pry it from his hands. Acting as if she weren’t there he read around her hand.

“Petrified weirwood is some of the strongest wood known to Westeros but is imbued with a strong magical presence that often causes queer visions.”

She gave up, sat back down and tried to block his voice out.

“Those who honor the old gods speak their vows in front of heart trees. The Night’s watch has its own heart tree for swearing in initiates. Marriages are conducted in front of the trees and often a new babe is introduced to the gods as soon as it is considered safe.”

She laid her head on the table, so much for gaining any useful information. The Night’s watch was miles away and forbidden to women. She didn’t care about the old gods, it was blasphemous for her to listen about their strange customs.

“Shut up! Stop talking about your freak gods, I don’t care.” She exploded at him at last, expecting that to get a rise out of him.

But all he did was stop reading, placed the book to the side and picked up another. He opened the cover before beginning to read to her again. This time about the various river fishes in the Red Fork.

“What’s your fucking deal?” She snarled, knocking her shoulder into his.

He snapped the book shut. “Watch your mouth. You shouldn’t talk like that.”

Oh so cursing was where he drew the line?

“Go fuck yourself, Lord Blackwood.”

He turned in his chair to face her, just staring. It made her nervous to have his undivided attention focused on her. Even though that’s what she had been vying for the entire time.

He reached up to cup her cheek, his grip soft. They stared into each other's eyes. His were soft and twinkling, hers hard and frustrated.

“I don’t understand you.” She said, angry tears prickling in her eyes.

“I’m a very simple man.” He replied, stroking her face with the most delicate touch.

They were sitting so close together and when he leaned in, she did not pull back. He tipped her face up, holding his hand under her chin. She watched his eyes dart from hers down to her lips. The air in the room was electric. When he leaned in further, she moved to meet him. Their lips meeting in a slow torturous pattern. His hand moved to hold the back of her head and she leaned into him, practically in his lap. When his tongue ran along her bottom lip, she thought she might die right there. Instead she moaned into his mouth.

He picked her up cradling her in his lap, his arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. She couldn’t tell which limbs were hers anymore and she didn’t care to. They kissed languidly, unhurried and she wanted to crawl under his skin. But she pulled back to suck in all of the air she’d been missing out on. Breathing heavily, she stared up at him. His eyes were inches from hers and his hand was rubbing circles on her neck. He was so beautiful it made her heart hurt.

“Again.” She demanded.

He was momentarily taken aback by her command before his lips were on hers again. She never felt more alive than when his tongue was in her mouth and her arms wrapped him, tugging him closer. This was no time for caution, she wanted to burn from the inside out. To set the entire library aflame around them. Blackwood or Bracken made no difference in that moment of heated passion. All of her worries and fears melted away into nothing. There was only him and the feel of his hot skin against hers.

A loud cough sounded from across the room, forcing them to surface. Shanda was so dazed she didn’t turn to acknowledge anything had sounded. Just sat half drunk on his lap, face flaming and unconcerned. Benjicot had, however, actually faced the intrusion.

“Alysanne, what can I do for you?” She could feel the vibration of his chest when he spoke.

Shanda then found enough sense to look at the lady, who was frowning.

“I need you to double up on guard duty. Please meet me at the front gate at your nearest convenience.” Then she spun around and left the room abruptly.

The moment was not gone for her and she gladly would’ve told him to tell Alysanne to take a hike. But he stood, taking her with him.

“Don’t pout, you got what you wanted.” He said when he caught her eyes.

She was definitely not pouting.

“Do you think she actually wanted to give you extra guard duty?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, and I doubt that’s where I’m going off to now. First though, you are going back to your room. And if you try sneaking out of it again, there will be consequences.” The look he gave her was very pointed.

Which useless guard had finally ratted her out?

“You have very useless guards, you know? They gossip, wander and do anything but actually guard.”

He started pushing her towards the door.

“Yes, you keep finding new and inventive ways to tell me how lacking our guards are. But I’m replacing them twice as fast, you horrible sneak, so stay in your room.”

That put a damper on the halls being a viable option. Which turned her attention to the window, she could scale the walls. She thought she could manage it. And there was no choice now. Whatever delusions she had been holding on were gone now and anyone would be able to see it written across her face. The trial was going to be an abject disaster.

When they arrived at her door, he opened it for her.

“What will my family say? Now that you’ve killed me?”

She said, stepping into the threshold, one hand on the door.

“You’re still acting immature, you should work on that while I’m out.”

“Only if you work on common decency.”

“Stay in your room. There will be a guard here.”

It was hard to take him seriously when he craned his neck around looking for the guard who was clearly not posted outside of her door.

“Enjoy your scolding.” She said, trying to close the door.

“It’s very cute you think you aren’t going to get one too.” His foot stopped the door from closing.

“Stay in your room.”

“Alright! I get it, can you go caw at someone else?”

He just smiled and let her close the door. She stood there for a full minute after she closed the door, standing very still and taking deep breaths. Then she gave up, and sprinted across the room laughing. She couldn’t stop the glee flowing from every corner of her soul. She jumped on the bed and screamed into a pillow for a minute. Until she felt like she could get the tiniest grip on her sanity. But she would then just dissolve into giggles again. She didn’t even care that Alysanne definitely saw them and was planning out her remarks about their behavior.

She was just thinking of doing it again. She’d kissed boys before but it was the kissing done at the first cusp of puberty. More exploratory, less of a blazing inferno. There was nothing to compare the feeling to but she wanted to do it again. Compare the two against each other and then maybe go back for a third just to be sure. She could scale the walls after, but she had to attend the trial anyway. Whether she went back home or not it was inevitable, so why not just wait? And in the meantime, no one could fault her for trying to reach that high again. The Mother would understand, she was a mother for a reason.

[vminkookminv]

namkook wip - upcoming ao3 fic: a/b/o, wrestling

Jungkook’s mind drifts back to the heated discussions leading up to this day. He remembers standing before the council, his shoulders squared, as he made his case for omegas to participate in the wrestling trials. The elders had looked at him with scepticism etched into their weathered faces.

"An omega in the ring?" One of the council members had scoffed. "Preposterous! You'll be torn to shreds by the alphas."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathered pack members. Jungkook could feel their doubts like a weight on his chest, but he refused to back down.

"I may be an omega, but I'm stronger than you think," he had countered, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart. "I've trained for years. I’ve been training for longer hours for this. Give me a chance to prove myself."

The elders exchanged wary glances, their brows furrowed. Finally, the council leader spoke, his tone grave. "If we allow this, you must take full responsibility for the consequences, omega. The wrestling trials are brutal, and we cannot guarantee your safety against the alphas."

Jungkook straightened his spine, meeting the elder's gaze without flinching. "I understand the risks, and I accept them. All I ask is for the opportunity to compete alongside my packmates."

A heavy silence had settled over the gathered crowd as the council deliberated. Jungkook held his breath, his fists clenched at his sides. Finally, the elder nodded, his expression grim.

"Very well. We will permit you to enter the trials. But know that you do so at your own risk, omega."

Jungkook shakes his head back to the present. It’s almost time. 

A hush falls over the crowd as Jungkook approaches the ring, muscles taut beneath golden skin.

“Is that an omega?” one of the spectators shouts. “What’s he doing here?”

“He’s a fighter!” comes a resounding reply, likely one of Jungkook’s pack members. 

Jungkook squares his shoulders and focuses on his breathing. He can’t get distracted by anything right now. The entire pack is counting on him, as are all the omegas, probably everywhere. Plus, wouldn’t it be nice to have a little glory for himself—to be the first-ever omega to be crowned the victor of a wrestling match?

There’s the thrill of a fight coursing through his veins, and it helps him tune out the roars of the crowd. When his name is called, he steps into the ring, the balls of his feet bouncing with energy.

For the first time, he catches a glimpse of his opponent. And then the world seems to tilt on its axis.

Kim Namjoon.

Kim Namjoon. Popular alpha from the rival pack. Tall, handsome, talks in a low, measured voice like every word carries weight. He's broad-shouldered and strong but there's also a gentleness about him, an attentiveness in the way he listens and a warmth in his smile that puts others at ease—and that’s everything Jungkook’s omega instincts say that he should look for in a partner.  

Jungkook tears his eyes away, teeth sinking into his lower lip. This is no place to think of all that. He's here to prove his worth, to defy the fragile stereotype so often thrust upon omegas. Despite his small frame, he possesses a powerful core of muscle honed from many hours of intense training—there’s no way he’s going to throw all of that away for a silly little crush.

He needs to beat Namjoon.

[wackulart]

May I get some jealous Belos x male reader a silly man is starving for some kicking his feet and twirling his hair

shaking ur hand, my good man

for this ur a scout in the emperor's coven but have been dating belos for a while at this point

Jealous!Belos x Male!Reader

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

At first you could chalk it up to the Emperor simply doing his job. When he adjusted your schedule around his hours and you happened to catch him more often in the halls, it was a nice coincidence. Even when he asked you to join him for lunch rather than going to the cafeteria with the other scouts, you could tell he was doing it so you two could spend more time together.

Then you began to feel something off when he started waiting for you after missions, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, leading you beside him. He even made a show of bringing you gifts during your shifts, which consisted of large bouquets of flowers to expensive decorations for your staff. It wasn't that the attention bothered you or anything, it was just that he wasn't usually so openly affectionate. He preferred to kiss you only when you two were alone, hold you in your shared bed, listening to your heartbeat against his ear as he fell asleep. Belos had always been a rather secluded person when it came to your relationship.

You had finally been able to put together what was going on with him when you were walking down the halls of the palace to meet with him in his throne room. He had called you personally which most likely meant he was in need of some company after a long day of meetings. On the way there you ran into one of the other coven scouts, a rather good friend of yours. Unintentionally, you struck up conversation and got distracted discussing some of the insane things that had occurred on your last mission. It was already too late before you realized you had been talking for ten minutes straight and the sound of someone clearing their throat had come from beside you two. The both of you turn to see Emperor Belos, arms hidden underneath his cloak as he looks down with the blank yet intimidating expression of his golden mask. The other scout jumped and whispered to you. “See you later, man.” Before they bowed in a panic and shuffled off quickly. Belos kept his eye on them as they left only to look back and to you as you stared back with a tilted head. “Couldn’t wait to see me?” You teased, knowing Belos didn’t tend to come check on delays himself. He folded his arms and you could hear him huff underneath his mask. “I certainly hope I wasn’t interrupting your important conversation.” Despite how frustrated he sounded, he still held out his hand for you to take.

You snickered and took his hand, walking along side him. “Can you honestly say that you called me for something detrimental and not just to cuddle on your throne?”

There was a long pause before he let out another grumble, embarrassed that you had seen through him. No one knew him better than you did which made it near impossible to hide things from you.

Not that he usually would.

“Perhaps you might enjoy that scout’s company. Seems like you two have been getting along rather well lately.” He muttered as he pushed open the door to the throne room and let go of your hand, only to place down his mask on a nearby desk.

You locked the door and stopped for a moment.

“Belos, are you jealous?” You asked as you placed your own mask on your hip, attaching it to your belt.

He turned back to you quickly, his face flushed as he found himself unable to look you in the eye. Belos immediately looked away from you, now rushing to his throne as he let out a stuttered response. “That’s p-preposterous!”

The second he sat down on his throne and saw the look on your face, he only grew more embarrassed. He turned from you, leaning his head on his hand and staring at one of the walls like a guilty dog. You melted at the sight and ran up to meet him at his throne. You stood above him and took his face in your hands, even then he tried to focus anywhere but your eyes. Who knew the Emperor of the Boiling Isles, the most powerful and feared wish could get jealous? You leaned in closer to his face, the second your foreheads touched was when he finally made eye contact with you.

“Belos.” You sang. “Were you getting jealous over little ol’ me?”

He pouted as his hands went to hold onto your hips, his fingers fidgeting with the sides of your uniform. “And how could I not?”

“Perhaps it would be best to be more official about this relationship. The world should know you’re mine.” Belos added.

Your eyes softened as you sat into his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. “We can do that if you want, but you know you don’t have to worry about me.”

You took a strand of his hair in between your fingers and twirled it. “You know I love you.”

He couldn’t fight the gentle smile on his face as you kissed his nose and he let out a chuckle. “And I you, my dear.”

[bugswapau]

Interview Shellsy!

Time to ask the scientist a few questions.

“Have time for an interview?”

I want nothing to do with your ridiculous public relations scheme.

“I am only after the truth. Besides, I want to hear from the smartest Grump in town.”

Very well. If you insist, I’ll be more than happy to enlighten you.

“Who are you?”

I am Shellsy Woolbag, the world’s first Gastroentomologist.

“What is a Gastroentomologist, exactly?”

In baby-speak, I study Bugsnax and their effect on Grumpuses.

“Why come to Snaktooth island?”

To study Bugsnax. Obviously.

“How could you study Bugsnax if you didn’t know about them until you came here?”

[sighs] As Eggabell Batternugget recruited followers for her freak-show of an expedition, I noticed something peculiar about her arm. Although she tried to hide it, she was showing signs of snakification. This aroused my curiosity.

“Thoughts on Bugsnax?”

You're asking for opinions, not facts. I'm not going to discuss my feelings with you, you emotional parasite.

“Emotional parasite!?”

Journalists like you constantly rant and rave against my "concerning" study methods and "questionable" actions whenever I try to publish my ground-breaking findings! Stop editorializing and focus on the facts instead!

“I’m not even a — [sighs] Why did you leave town?”

Elizabert or no Elizabert, I just wanted to keep working on my research, but Flooftix said I was responsible for the disappearances. I've experienced witch-hunts before… Before the pitchforks could be drawn, I left as soon as possible.

“Is it true that you eat Grumpuses?”

Oh, please. That’s preposterous. I’ve only eaten one Grumpus.

“… Moving on. Why is there a severed paw in your hut?”

Would you prefer I keep my severed paw in the outhouse?

“Any info on Eggabell?”

The truth. Tch. Eggabell was a self-righteous coward, unlike Elizabert.

“What about Lizbert?”

Elizabert understood my work very well. She was eager to participate. Our collaboration was productive - perhaps even pleasant - until a certain someone intervened.

“Who interfered?”

Flooftix. Using their "relationship" with Elizabert as a weapon, that mummified fraudster fueled Eggabell's distrust about my work. They created a false option between me and Eggabell in order to manipulate her delicate feelings.

“So what happened?”

Elizabert ultimately opted for emotion over reason. And I assume that was her downfall.

“Any final thoughts?”

Yes. I am in possession of Elizabert's secret storage key. You might be interested in it. My time has been wasted far too long by you. Now go.

[sorry-moots]

Inversion of Genesis But I Changed It

basically i decided to rework sumeru's interlude quest because i didn't like it and i feel like they did our scrimblo dirty also it's a reader insert because i love him characters featured: scaramouche, dottore (mentioned) cws: none wc: 599

masterlist | next

Chapter One

Snezhnayan mornings are rarely graced by daylight but today, the albedo from the previous night’s blizzard crept in and illuminated your bedroom.

With an aura of defeat, you pull your hair off your neck and into place so you can put on your work clothes. It would be a bit of a stretch to call it a uniform; many liberties were taken in its tailoring. The outfit consisted of a pair of cable knit stockings, a frilly white blouse, and a heavy skirt of black-and-crimson jacquard, which concealed half a dozen petticoats. Quite luxurious compared to the regular uniforms.

As you lace up your black leather boots, you think about your awful work conditions. The place itself was creepy enough with its harsh lighting and omnipresent chemical scent, but the mind games your boss played with you and the screams from his test subjects made your blood run cold.

Shaking yourself, you pulled on your black leather gloves and cloak. Dwelling on it would do you no good.

Finally, you grab your mask. The charcoal gray mask had the typical red stripe through the eye indicating your affiliation with the Fatui. In the middle where the wearer’s eyebrows would be, however, there is an extra marking. This little addition marks you not just as a Fatuus, but as a Fatuus working directly under the command of the 2nd Fatui Harbinger, Il Dottore.

You wanted nothing more than to toss it into the snow banks and forget about it, but your job was the only thing sustaining you. To leave the Fatui would be to freeze with no coal in your fireplace and die of hunger.

With this in mind, you pull the mask into place and step into the cold before you can convince yourself not to. ***** As usual, you arrive a little early to savor your last minutes of freedom before descending into the bowels of Zapolyarny Palace. You leave your Clydesdale at the stable and make your way to the palace at a leisurely pace, taking a breath of the stinging cold– but untainted– air.

You duck your head instantly upon noticing a commanding officer talking to one of the harbingers. Many of them are picky about etiquette and it’s never a good idea to offend one.

Nevertheless, one could hardly take offense at you walking a little slower than usual.

Making your way across the hall, you overhear their conversation:

“What do you mean there's no one available? I told you to find me a new assistant, you incompetent fool!”

An open position?

“My apologies, Lord Scaramouche, but unless someone volunteers to be reassigned, you’ll have to wait for the next induction ceremony.”

“Preposterous, that's months away! I'll drown in my own paperwork before then.” In that moment, you glanced briefly at the Harbinger, who had the bridge of his nose pinched tightly. “Find someone to take this bumbling fool’s place, or you’ll have the pleasure of being demoted to the position yourself,” he said, pointing his finger at the man menacingly before storming away.

Almost at light speed you double back to talk to the officer. Dropping into a quick curtsy, you blurted out, “Sir, I was wondering if you'd consider me for the position you were discussing with the Balladeer?”

Utterly bewildered, he replied, “Of course, but who in their right mind would choose to serve Lord Scaramouche?”

“The Doctor's assistant,” you responded ruefully.

The officer’s grimace was clear as day– in any other nation that is. “I see. Come with me and we’ll file the transfer order right now. Consider the job yours.”

a/n: lemme know if you're interested in this 👉🏼👈🏼 i'm planning on uploading what i have over the next few days; if you want me to tag you, i can do that too and yes reader talks to scara in the next chapter, this is just a VERY SLOW slow burn

master list | next

[dawndelion-winery]

Vassal and Friend

Contract marriage au - [1]

Childe × GN! Reader

You've only ever heard good things about the ducal family your parents were a vassal to. Biased though the information may be, you believed it, being a naive child growing up surrounded by warm smiles amidst a freezing wasteland. Your parents had told you stories of the duke's courage, and his compassion for his people. He sounded like a wonderful person, and so, you hope that one day, you, like your parents, would have a turn to serve him and be a part of the greatness that kept its people happy and fed.

Your image of the ducal family was solidified by your first encounter with the young duke-to-be; not only was he angelic in appearance, with his beaming smile and sunkissed hair, but he didn't seem the least bit concerned about your difference in status, eagerly reaching out to grab you by the hand and abduct you to play with him.

"Take care of the young lord!" your parents had called to you as you were whisked away by the ginger boy, his father chuckling at his antics as the grown ups headed inside to discuss business. You'd be a part of that some day, but until then, you'd busy yourself with getting to know the young master you'd serve as intimately as a vassal could. Would he live up to the great name of his house? Only time would tell, but it was your job to help him get there. And to do that, you needed his trust, to be a person he could depend on and delegate important tasks to.

So you weren't quite sure why the young lord, despite being a year older than you, didn't seem nearly as concerned about the future as you were. While you were planning various potential routes for him to take to expand the dukedom's influence when you were older so you'd have a clear goal and be able to prepare to help him, he genuinely seemed to have dragged you over to play and not as a sort of indoctrination to ensure your loyalty. It was so strange to see someone your age acting like it, having been surrounded by diligent adults your whole short life. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to dislike it, having your childhood rekindled by the zealous little duke.

"You're quite the strange one, little duke," you commented, raising a curious eyebrow at the way he so readily got on his hands and knees on the dirt to dig tunnel under the wall.

"Am I? I think you're the even stranger one here, y/n. You keep calling me "little duke" or "young master" when we're almost the same age. Why not just call me Ajax?"

He pulled his head out of his hole, face smeared with soil, looking at you curiously. Why didn't you call him Ajax? You wanted to tell him it was out of respect for his status, but you had a feeling Ajax couldn't care less about that. In your silence, he hummed, "If you can't give me a good reason, then just use my name. Isn't that what friends do?"

Friends. What a preposterous suggestion that completely disregarded social class. How could you dare to covet his companionship when he was the future duke? In spite of everything your parents had taught you, unfortunately, you still assented to his request, your child mind too excited at the prospect of being close friends with someone you'd admired. Surely, this too would count towards being someone he could trust and depend on?

Taglist[ @laireste @yinyinggie @ayatoforlife @eowinthetraveler ]

[ask-the-shichibukai]

"The misadventures of a crocodile, a hawk and a flamingo" snippet

Here featuring a scene set pre-Marineford. Hancock was in need of someone to help her sort out her feelings for Luffy and poor Mihawk just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Enjoy

Mihawk: If we're truly going to discuss feelings, I'm not drunk enough for it yet.

Crocodile: You'll never be drunk enough to talk about feelings. You are allergic to the full spectrum of human emotions.

Mihawk: Then why are you two forcing me to take part to this conversation?

Crocodile: Because I don't want to suffer alone when I'm being subjected to the list of the many astounding qualities of the Strawhat brat of all peopl–

Boa: Because, unlike some heartless bastards I know, I am a normal human and I have feelings. I needed to discuss them with someone. You just happened to be the less disagreeable and nearest someone available.

Mihawk: Lucky me. But I am one of those heartless bastards, so why are you asking me for something as preposterous as sentimental advice?

Boa: Because you are the Strawhat expert here!

(Crocodile burst out laughing, stopping when his foot was ruthlessly stomped on by the narrowed eyed swordman)

Mihawk: One, I knew the other Strawhat, not this brat. This one I met just once when I almost killed his fresh-faced first mate in a duel. It's not the same. Two, I don't know nor want to know anything about his love life/lack thereof. From what I saw this brat has space in that cranial box of his only for food and adventures, not for romance or women. Three, my advice if you really want it is to put those feelings of yours under lock and key in a little box in your brain and then signal to your immune system the need to dispose of it soon. I guarantee that it works.

Crocodile: You have a part of your immune system which is specifically designed to remove feelings from your body at will?

Mihawk: I do.

Crocodile: That explains so much.

Boa: How dare you imply I wish to rid myself of my feelings for Luffy, you unfeeling, heartless–

Mihawk: I was not implying anything, I was stating it. And then, if you knew you wouldn't want to hear my answer, why did you ask me?

Boa: Because you're not a lying hyena like this one here [Crocodile]. Just try to think of something useful. What can I do with Luffy?

Mihawk: He doesn't even know you love him, so why keep losing your dignity over something so juvenile like a crush? You can just cut those feelings out. Please do it. Or ask for a doctor to amputate them for you so we can go back to never think of them again.

Boa: Why did I decide to ask you for advice?

Mihawk: It's what I've been asking you for the last twenty minutes!

[not-goldy]

https://www.tumblr.com/seoul-bros/733369077839642624/hyung-a-red-line-means-love?source=share

Why do you think Jimin laughed out loud when yg said he want to get red line tattoo? He found it funny that men want to be connected by a tattoo representing love ? Pretty homophobic of him tbh.

Homophobic and Park Jimin in one sentence sounds oxymoronic if you ask me.

Jimin is the leader of the Mens liberation movement in BTS. He is the one member who consistently opposes toxic male gender ideologies.

Taemin recently explained how he and Jimin are similar in that their androgy allows them to embody both masculine and feminine identities in their performances.

He's the member who showed BTS it is okay for men to give each other gifts wear rings on their pinkies without that being gay or weird and his constant shipping of Jin and Namjoon and himself and Jungkook as a couple should imply he is not repulsed by the idea of men loving eachother.

He's constantly pushing for BTS to allow themselves to be emotionally vulnerable with each other, share intimacy, say I love you to one another without feeling weirded out by that.

But I also understand that us queers can internalized homophobia and we can be the strongest homophobic individuals and threat to each other especially when we don't live in out truth.

I can't tell if you are coming from a place of wanting to objectively discuss these pertinent issues or you just throwing out words out of spite or to prove you think Jm is straight ergo homophobic and that he hates gay people.

Because he can't find it funny that men want to get tattoos representing love when he's fond of wearing tattoos representing love and devine femininity.

He is the goddess of love. The perfect blend of masculine and feminine energies.

The crescent tattoos, jewelry, channeling Artemis, venus, Appolo and he dares to make fun of another man channeling his inner love is just wild to me.

If he laughed its because he has a sense of humor.

He laughed because yoongi said that with a straight face.

He laughed because Yoongi is hilarious

He laughed because he laughs at everything

He laughed because- well I would have laughed too that shit pretty gay😭😭😭😭😭😭

I mean if you are a man and want to get a red line tattoo on your pinkie with your home boys you should totally go for it. Power to you honey. Best bros 4 life

I guess I'm homophobic too then shit cos I'm rolling off the floor 😭😭😭🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Most of the time, my reaction when BTS does any gay shit is to laugh. Wait, same as Jimin🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

No, but the fact that he clocks the gay shit they do faster than anybody in there sends me too🤣🤣🤣

BTS personal gay detector Park Jimin.

Most people, especially Korean people, will do shit without even clocking it comes off as gay- But Park Jimin KNOWS. HE KNOWS.

Jungkook was in the corner busy trying to substitute red for purple like purple would fix the gay

Bet at the tattoo shop he looked confused when they told him he can't put J above the M on his finger because that comes off as gay.

His shook pickachu face 👁👄👁

B-b-but it's JM. I could be JM you never know😭🤧

Sure clown. You are Jm I a n MR AB JK Sty

This was literally Jikook in that live. 2 gays in a pod

And it seems you don't know this but Yoongi himself found it preposterous when he was directly asked the gay question in an interview😔

He made it seem it was ridiculous for two men to be in a relationship 🙄

So no, Jimin laughing is not homophobic towards him. Because Yoongi isn't gay.

[neverenoughmarauders]

Do we lose something by adding 'blood' magic and giving Remus powers due to his lycanthropy?

So I think yes.

To me, the whole point about purebloods obsessing about their blood status is that it makes no real difference - in fact, it's probably way better to expand the gene pool - as Ron points out. The discriminating against muggle-borns is baseless. In fact, in the canon it's made clear by multiple characters that purebloods have no reason to think themselves superiour. If we add powers related to the bloodlines, it's like giving the purebloods a reason to be right. The aryan race stuff was just BS, and so is the belief that being pureblood makes you better.

I feel equally strongly about Remus having any special powers related to his condition. Yes we know Bill likes his steaks rare now, let's leave it at that please. Remus' condition is meant to be a metaphor for HIV / conditions that significantly affect your quality of life and importantly, your social and economic standing. Giving him some benefits just makes me feel sick. Being unwell is not a superpower, but what is a superpower is the strength to keep going (to the ability people can <3).

In fact, I don't even like it when the discrimination against him is downplayed. It's probably the most important reason why I don't like casanova Remus. Remus' confidence and life quality is significantly impacted by the prejudices against werewolves. In canon, he never let himself fall in love (until he was forced together with Tonks due to proximity) because he is a werewolf. This man would not go around making out/having sex with people left, right and centre. This man would not be surrounded by a whole cohort of people who knew he was a werewolf but didn't care. People didn't know because he kept it a secret and because the idea that there was a werewolf at school would have been preposterous. He wouldn't be popular - Remus wouldn't want that attention on him.

Remus was desperately dependent on the Marauders because they figured out what he was despite his best attempts to hide it (because the four were extremely close and James and Sirius were exceptionally bright). Remus knew how lucky and unusual it was that they stuck with him; and worked to make his transformations bearable - and fun even.

--

Adding magic powers to bloodlines - downplaying Remus' condition - these things takes away from some of the more serious discussions this series attempts to have with its readers. In my view.