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#(this post doesn’t involve that i’m tagging to be safe)
cithaerons · 2 years
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see, i always gain weight when i act “healthy” and lose weight when i act “unhealthy” and i know i can’t be alone in that. idk it just brings out the irony in society’s idea of healthy vs unhealthy. exercising (even just going for runs), eating actual meals with vegetables and protein instead of just pasta and crackers, sleeping well, etc…. like i always always gain weight.
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hazbinhotelxreader · 7 months
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Hello, Happy Valentine's Day, first of all and second, I always liked the idea of Alastor dating a relative of the Overlords, so could you make Alastor dating Zestial's granddaughter? 🌺ψ(`∇´)ψ
A/n: yep! Sorry this took so long! Also I think this is my first ever post about Alastor so let’s hope this goes well!
-Romantic
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-I’m not too sure of their relationship, but by the looks of it , Zestial and Alastor seem pretty close, like good friends. Maybe not as close as he is to Rosie, but definitely close.
-Zestial, being older, would of course be aware of the danger Alastor is, and how deadly he can be, but I believe Zestial has some sort of trust in him.
-You, were Zestial biological granddaughter. Once you died and went to hell, you reunited with him, and he was overjoyed to have found you.
-He seemed to play more of a fatherly role than a grandparent, but he doesn’t smother you, you are an adult after all. You also tagged along overlord meetings with him, and when he ran his own meetings you’d be there to help
-You most likely met Alastor at an overlord meeting, you were pretty new to hell so you weren’t aware of what he’s done.
-Out of curiosity, you approached him to get to know him, he did look around your age. And you have no regrets doing so, he was oh so charming. He was polite too. You couldn’t help but feel a slight flutter in your stomach every time you speak to him.
-Of course, your grandfather Zestial noticed your jittery actions near him, and the way you’d get nervous and always try to be more sweet with him. He had a little chat with you that night, but told you that you could date or be with anyone you love as long as you’re careful.
-And like he said, you did love Alastor, so you wanted to be with him. And surprisingly, you managed to score a date with him! Or more like an outing, he’s not a very romantic guy, he’s charming and sweet, but not romantic.
-At the beginning of you two dating, he made it clear he didn’t want any sort of physical affection or intimacy, especially no sexual contact. You didn’t mind, love isn’t all about sex anyways. It’s not like you fell for his body, you fell for him, his personality and charm.
-he’s definitely going to try and manipulate you a little bit in the beginning, maybe attempt to make a deal with you and use you as bait for Zestial? He could do that. But you followed your grandfathers advice and stayed safe, not giving into any deals that involved selling souls.
-He’d try to get information about Zestial out of you. Sure Zestial and him were good pals, but Alastor is still pretty darn evil, he’d want some sort of info about his plans or meetings, or just about him in general. You can’t lie, you’ve accidentally told him some personal info, like some plans before.
-Now later on while you two are officially together, he’ll let you give him more physical contact. Nothing sexual though. For example, small pecks of kisses on each others hands or faces, hugs, holding hands, or just wholesome cuddling in bed.
-He doesn’t really mind if your the granddaughter of another powerful overlord, he’s not the type to respect higher beings, Lucifer for example.
-He’s gonna be protective, let’s say that. Any one that threats to hurt you, or even thinks about it, will instantly be Alastors next radio broadcast.
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auckie · 5 months
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I think the things that offend me most nowadays in like, smaller interpersonal interactions rather than grand, sweeping trends in culture, are when people chose to not partake in a wide set of things. Like musical close mindedness, or refusal to try different foods from different cultures. Not watching an entire subset of films bc they’re ‘french’. Avoiding reading bc you say you have adhd and it’s too hard. Like dude I get it, I’m busy. I can be picky. Everyone can. But the willful ignorance of closing yourself off to those VAST portions of the human experience, and not having curiosity and a lust to learn and explore art that was made by someone worlds apart from you either in terms of their culture, era, whatever. I dunno man it just pisses me off so bad. I think it’s arrogant. Like oh you’re comfortable in your safe little bubble huh? And you’re enforcing its barriers with the excuse that you’re autistic and have sensory issues. With music made by black people?? lol okay. It is pretty presumptuous for me to assume malicious intent but I think those prejudices are borne from either the comfort of being someone who’s wealthy and probably white not feeling the need to learn past what they think is enough, or it’s a reflection of a society that’s taught you to prioritize what it shills— popular, current (white, depending where you live ig) artists who are making streamlined, easy to digest content. Often when I meet people with these issues they’ll have one particular ‘niche’, and it tends to be like. 70s music. Victorian literature. Anime and Japanese games. But they’re still not really investing beyond the media presented. Like there’s so much more to Japanese culture than liking some cartoons put out between 2010-2020. You don’t gotta become some sorta Einstein who learns the background of every little freak in FGO yeah. But don’t you wanna aim higher? Aren’t you interested in any of the historical figures? And nothings wrong with hopping onto a trend. You read Dracula bc of that Dracula daily thing. Cool! Read more. Some people will say they’re chronically ill or disabled and can’t get outside. That’s okay. The internet is full of things you can read other than fanfiction, YouTube has a shit ton of free music. There’s Wikipedia and free articles online if you have questions about things. Yeah nobody is spending four hours a day looking at the national archives website and studying art history but it’s imbued in the things around you, and youll absorb it ambiently as you go along. you dont have to be a jack of all trades and cover every major genre of every major medium, but it never hurts to try! I really love seeing ppl ask too. Bc it can be kind of humiliating to admit to what seems like some jackass hipster that you’ve never delved into, idk, Serbian films (lol not that one). And hopefully if whoever you’re asking will give you honest good recommendations and not berate you. I’m kind of berate a straw man rn I guess. The hostile tone def doesn’t lend to an atmosphere of sharing but I cannot tell you how many times I’ve rbed anything involving specifically jazz only to see someone rb and add the stupidest comment on the post, or in the tags, or go into my inbox to be like waaah I don’t like jazz bc it’s boring and old and for pretentious hypocrites who hate neurodivergent people! Like what are you TALKING about. Fine if you don’t like it but don’t try and rationalize that as a moral standing you shit lark. And just as they’re allowed to dislike jazz I’m allowed to not really enjoy people who don’t like jazz. Or country. Nautical knots. Knit wear. Watching urbex YouTubers get their shit rocked by squatters. Korean food. Pachuco fashion and stupid ugly low riders. Bollywood films. and they don’t want to try any of those things either yknow? The next thing I’m getting into is circuit bending.
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measuredingold · 1 year
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heaven sent
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authors note: after a month off, i've finally finished my noah piece :) this is my first on tumblr, second one all together (there's one on my ao3). this was a request a friend of mine made a month or so ago, and i'm happy to finally get it out for them. briefly proofread, sorry for any mistakes. as always, enjoy and feedback is appreciated :) my requests are open btw! i'm also working on tag-list, so if you'd like to be added please send me a message :)
pairing: noah sebastian x reader
cross-posted on ao3
word count: 6.8k
cw/tags: slight friends to lovers, readers first time, realization of ~feelings~, fingering, cunnilingus (noah is a munch), p in v, protected sex (be safe!!!!! wrap it up folks!!!), fluff, maybe slight angst if you really squint, loads of tension, noah being a sweetheart, open ending, 18+ minors do not interact
You stare at Noah’s door, nerves bubbling inside of you. It was silly to be nervous - Noah was your best friend. You’ve lived with him for the last three years, known him even longer, and you’ve asked him plenty of favors in the time you’ve spent with him. However, this time was a lot different. 
Navigating your 20’s was something you were still figuring out. Establishing your career, finding a friend group that you trusted, and even dating was all so confusing. You’ve gotten the career down, and you think you got a pretty solid group of friends, but romantic relationships are still something that you can’t seem to get. 
You’ve been on dates, that wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was when things got… intimate. You’re embarrassed to say it, but you were still a virgin. It wasn’t like you were waiting for that special someone, it just never happened. You’d either get to that point and chicken out, or never even make it out of the kissing stage. At this point you just wanted it done and over with, but you couldn’t just do it with anyone. 
That’s where Noah came in.
You trusted him more than you trusted yourself, you think, and your other friends told you that if you just wanted to get it done and over with, do it with someone you won’t regret. 
You don’t think you’d regret Noah. 
With a shaky hand you reach up and knock on his door, the music from inside pausing. You hear shuffling and the twist of the doorknob, and there stood Noah. He smiles. 
“Didn’t know you were home,” He swings the door open and goes back over to his desk, falling into his chair. “What’s up?”
You don’t move, just stand in the doorway, your nerves intensifying. Shit.
He looks over at you after a moment of silence, and his brows furrow, lips pursing slightly. 
“Hello? Everything alright?”
You shake yourself out of your trance and shift on your feet, arms crossing over your chest. 
“Can I ask you something?” You bite down on your lip. “Like… a favor?”
Noah’s head tilts. “…What kind of favor?”
“A pretty big one.” You can’t help but smile sheepishly at the way Noah’s eyes narrow at you before his gaze softens, realizing your nerves, and he nods towards his bed. You walk over and sit down without a word.
He rolls his chair over to you as you pull your legs up under yourself, hands laid in your lap, and he reaches for them. You jump at the touch, and he frowns, but he doesn’t let go.
“What’s going on? Is everything alright?” His eyes narrow again. “…Do you need me to fight someone? I’m not really good at that, but I’ll try.” 
You can’t help but laugh before dropping your gaze from his, looking down at your hands intertwined together.
"No, no fighting is involved."
"Oh, thank fuck. You know I'm not much of a fighter." You laugh again but it falls short, the nerves resurfacing again. Noah's lips dip into a frown. "Seriously, what's up?"
You pull your hands from his to wipe them against your pants, sighing deeply. How do you even bring this up? You practiced a script in your head for hours before even standing in front of his door, but now that you're in his room, and he's sitting right in front of you, it's like you've forgotten everything you wanted to say.
"You can't laugh." You finally say. "And you can say no. It's... a stupid favor, anyways, but you're one of the few people I wholeheartedly trust, so..." Your words trail off with a shrug and you look up at Noah again, seeing confusion written all over his face.
"You're acting weird again." His head tilts again and you keep in your laughter this time. He looks like a confused puppy. "Did you do something illegal?" His eyes widen a bit as he leans in. "...Are you in trouble? Am I going to be an accomplice? You know I wouldn't do good in jail, dude."
"Oh my god, Noah." Your hands come up to rub at your face, laughter spilling out of you. "I'm not in trouble and no one's going to jail."
"Then what is it? You're acting like it's something crazy."
"Because it is!" You whine, falling back onto his bed. Your eyes stare up at the ceiling, arms resting on either side of your body. "And it's fucking embarrassing."
"I've known you for like 6 years, I think I've seen every embarrassing thing you've done."
You hear his chair squeak and feel the bed dip beside you, but you don't bother looking over. You feel his body, heat radiating off of him, and you suck in a breath at the close proximity. You truly were never bothered by being close to Noah, but ever since you've thought of your silly request, just the thought of touching him has your head reeling. He lays beside you, propping himself up on his elbow. You manage to sneak a glance at him and he's already staring down at you, lips pursed.
"Talk to me."
You pout. "I'm nervous."
"Oh, please." He reaches down to flick at your forehead, and you yelp, eyes slitting into a glare at your friend. "It's just me."
You sigh, gazing back up at the ceiling. "Alright. Just... Please promise not to laugh. And remember you can say no."
"Got it. Now, what is it?"
"So..." You hum, eyes falling shut. "You know how I'm still like... I've never had sex with anyone?"
"Yes." Noah says. "Still shocked, by the way, but I support you. It's not for everyone and we all go at our own pace."
You flush at his words, eyes opening to stare at him again. "Why're you shocked?"
He shrugs. "Just am, but it’s not a bad thing. Like I said everyone goes at their own pace.”
"Right." You clear your throat. "It's not like I don't want to do it, it's just... it's never happened. I think..." Your eyes fall shut again, not being able to look at him anymore. "Anna said I might be one of those people that just need to do it with someone I already know. Someone I trust, so it's not as scary."
"Hm..." Noah shifts next to you. "You could be. That's not really unheard of, a lot of people are more comfortable having sex with someone they're already comfortable with."
"Yeah, right." You suck in a breath. "Well... I've been thinking about it recently. And um..." You reach up and cover your face with your hands, trying to hide the deepening flush to your cheeks. "I was thinking about who I trust enough to do that with and... I trust you more than anyone else. Probably even more than myself."
The silence that follows is almost deafening. You're sure it took him a moment to register his words and you know the second he does, the bed shifting beside you. Noah sits up and you can feel his eyes boring into you, and it makes your skin crawl. You can't pull your hands away from your face, too scared to even look at him. 
It was such a crazy thing to throw out there, you knew that. What's the worst he could say? No? Your mind kept replaying that over and over again and yeah, the worst he could say was no. However, you feared that maybe you asking him of this would make things awkward. You knew it wasn't a friendship ending type risky, but it was enough to maybe make the next few weeks stiff and weird. 
"Are you..." Noah pauses and you hear him suck in a breath. "Are you asking to have sex with me?"
"God, when you say it like that it sounds so fucking weird." 
By better judgement you pull your hands away from your face to look up at Noah, expecting the worse. Though, it's not bad at all actually. He looks confused, definitely, but he doesn't look too uncomfortable. His gaze is still soft as his eyes meet yours. 
"Why me?" He sounds shocked, as if there should be a hundred other options before him. 
"Well. I live with you, and you're my best friend." You say simply and shrug. "You're also the only person in this world I trust enough to be... vulnerable like that with. For my first time, at least."
He nods, tongue darting out to swipe as his bottom lip and your eyes can't help but follow the movement. Something low in your stomach stirs, heat rushing through you, and you tear your eyes away to gaze into his again. 
"You can say no," You remind him quickly, moving to sit up across from him. "It's a crazy favor. I won't take it to heart."
"I..." His words trail off and his lips press together, looking off to the side. "I don't know if we should." 
For some reason your heart sinks to your stomach. A part of you knew he would say no and knew that was the worst thing he could say, but there was some other part of you that clung on to the possibility. You just wanted to get it over with and you were hoping that maybe he would help you out... but you still understand his hesitancy.
"Of course, yeah." You nod your head quickly, face heating up again. "I shouldn't have even asked; I don't know what I was thinking."
"No-"
You get up from his bed and rush towards his door. "Forget it, okay? I'm sorry for making it weird."
You don't bother looking back at Noah, slipping out his door and practically running to your room across the hall, shutting your door behind you.
Later that night while you were getting ready for bed, Noah slips into your room. You freeze, turning to look at him as he stands in your door frame, wringing his hands in front of him nervously. 
“Okay. I thought about it some more.” 
You pause. “About what?”
“About… what you asked me.” Your skin heats up at his words and you start to shake your head, but he holds a hand up to stop you. “I’m really fucking flattered that you trust me that much to even consider me a possibility and… and if you still want to, I’ll do it. If it’ll make you happy.” 
The silence that follows was brutal. You weren’t sure how to take it, especially with the way Noah was looking at you. He seemed nervous, almost like you had been earlier, and it has something inside of your fluttering. Like a bunch of butterflies had been set free inside your tummy all at once. 
You swallow. “What?”
"I don't know, I just." He leans against the doorframe now, arms crossing over his chest. "The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Being vulnerable can be hard, especially during sex, and... part of me wishes my first time was with someone I trusted."
You stay silent, eyeing Noah from across the room and he finally looks up, eyes meeting yours. He gives you a gentle smile and goosebumps rise across your skin.
"Really?" You say dumbly and he laughs.
"Yeah." He shrugs. "I mean, do I regret it? Not really, but I think it would've made the experience better if it had been with someone I trusted and maybe had known longer than a few weeks." He slowly makes his way towards your bed and sits down on it, patting the spot next to him. Your feet move before you can even think, settling down next to him. "I also want your first time to be good. I know too many people whose first times were shitty, and I don't want that for you. If... if it's with me, I'll be able to make sure you're enjoying it, and not just doing it to say you did."
You notice the subtle flush on his cheeks, and you can't help but smile.
"I just need to know that this is really what you want because there's no going back after this." 
He reaches out to place a hand against your thigh, and you know it was supposed to be soothing, but the burning feeling it left against you was almost too much to handle. You nod quickly, eyes never leaving his.
"If I didn't want this I wouldn’t have asked, Noah." You say softly. "I've thought about it a lot and... and if I were to choose anyone in the entire world to do this with, it would be you."
Something in the air shifts after the words leave your mouth and you swear you see something cross in Noah's eyes, but it's gone before you could even think about it. You feel his fingers dip into your thigh for a split second before loosening, rubbing the spot he had dug into. 
"You're one hundred percent sure about this?" He asks, voice barely above a whisper. 
You stare at him for a moment before your eyes linger down to his lips, before flicking back up to him. He noticed but didn't say a word, hand still rubbing your thigh. You nod. 
"Yes."
"Okay." He sucks in a deep breath after a moment and pulls away from you, the moment you two shared slipping away. Your stomach turns, almost missing the contact, but you scoot a bit from him anyways. "Okay, cool. Do you work this weekend?"
You raise a brow at him, head shaking. "No. Why?"
"I'm free most of Saturday and Sunday, so we could... uh, do it then."
"Oh." Your eyes widen. "You want to wait?"
"I mean, yeah. Us doing it now would be weird, right?" You think about it briefly before nodding. It would be odd to just dive into it now, you don't think you'd enjoy it that much. "This gives us time to... prepare? I don't know. Be less nervous? And it gives you a few days to really think about it."
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart swells in size at how concerned Noah was, making sure you were completely okay with your decision. 
"I've thought about it for almost a week now. I think I'm sure."
“Alright, no need to get fucking sassy with me.” He leans over to flick at your forehead, like he had done earlier, and you swat at his hand.
“I’m not even being sassy!”
“Whatever, dude.” Noah finally gets up from your bed and looks down at you, brows raising. “So, next weekend?”
“Um. Yeah. Next weekend.” You clear your throat, trying to come off as nonchalant as possible, and Noah nods.
“Alright. Cool.” He looks like he wants to say something else, lips pressing together before he shrugs it off, making his way towards the door. “Does pizza sound good for tonight?”
You blink. “Huh?”
“Pizza.” He looks over his shoulder. “For dinner?”
“Oh.” You blink again, the sudden change in conversation taking you for a loop and you push yourself up off the bed. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Awesome. I’ll go ahead and order it and let you know when it’s here.”
You watch him slip out of your room, listening to his footsteps down the hall, and something in your tummy stirs as the realization of what’s happening finally settles in. What the hell did you just get yourself into?
You sat in the middle of your bed late Saturday evening, staring up at Noah as he stood at the end of your bed. You were still nervous, but not as nervous as you had been almost a week ago. Noah had been right - the more you thought about it and prepared yourself, the less scared you seemed to be. You can't lie and say all the nerves have gone away, because they sure as hell haven't, but looking at Noah right now, all you feel is comfort. 
"Feeling alright?" Noah's voice breaks you from your thoughts and you give him a small nod.
"Yeah." You hum, your hands spreading against your thighs. They were bare, the only thing you had on were some sleep shorts and an oversized shirt you typically slept in - probably Noah's. "Just nervous."
Noah gives you a smile as he crawls onto the bed towards you, your heart picking up under your chest. 
"It's okay to be nervous." He mumbles, sitting on his knees in front of you. You still have to tilt your head up just to look at him. "But it's just me, okay? I'll take care of you. I promise."
His words have your stomach turning, like a bunch of butterflies have just been released. Your skin heats up and you're sure your cheeks are flushed some sort of light pink, and Noah leans forward, his lips ghosting against your forehead. You take a deep breath and let your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, trying to ease your nerves.
"At any time you want to stop, you tell me, okay?" He says once he pulls back, hand coming up to rest beneath your chin, tilting your head back up. Your eyes open. "If it becomes too much, I need you to tell me. This is about you - not me. No egos will be shattered or anything."
"Okay."
"If it's alright with you, we can do the stop light method." He hums, hand never leaving your face. "Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for keep going."
You stare at him, eyes already glossed over in a haze, and you nod in his hold. "I trust you."
He pauses, eyes scanning over your face one more time before he leans in again, lips pressing against your forehead more firmly. Your eyes slip shut once again and you lean into it, savoring it. You miss the feeling of his lips against your skin when he pulls away, letting his hand drop.
"Lean back for me."
You scoot up the bed and lean back, the back of your head pressing against your pillow. Noah stares down at you before nudging your legs open gently, leaning forward to hover over you. Your heart is thudding so loudly against your chest it's the only thing you can hear, and you swear Noah can too. And you suspect that he does, especially with the way his lips quirk up at the ends before his eyes catch yours.
"Just relax, okay?" His voice is much lower now and it has something in the pit of your stomach heating up, skin tingling. "You're in good hands."
"Promise?"
Usually you would tease him, since that was the nature of your relationship, but right now you feel too vulnerable. You need to know that you'll be okay with him, which you're sure you will, but hearing him say it out loud just makes you feel a little bit better.
His gaze softens. "I promise."
The look you two share has alarms going off in your mind, and your stomach turns in a way you've never felt before, yet you don't think you've ever felt safer in your life. You relax yourself against your bed, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.
"Okay." You breathe out. "I trust you."
"Thank you." He actually sounds happy by your words, almost like he's proud, and he leans down, lips ghosting against the skin of your neck as he mumbles out, "I trust you, too."
You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he presses a handful of soft, barely there kisses along your neck. He has an arm propped up beside you to hold himself up, while the other is rested against your hip. He nudges your shirt up ever so slightly, the pads of his tattooed fingers brushing against your bare skin. By instinct your hands raise to reach for him, fingers tangling in his hair. You feel him press against you, a shaky breath leaving him and when the air hits your skin, you shiver.
Noah presses another kiss to your skin before he pulls back, sitting up on his knees. You stare up at him, lips parted as a gasp escapes you. The look in his eyes was almost too much, the usual softness in his brown eyes darkening. The hand that was on your hip pushed your shirt up more, letting it wrinkle up against your stomach.
"Can I take these off?" He questions, fingers now tugging at the waistband of your shorts.
You can only nod, words not being an option right now and your hips lift up on their own as he tugs your shorts down your legs. Your body shakes the second you're exposed, the only thing covering you now is your underwear. The cold air hits against your core and its damp, and you flush out of embarrassment. He's done nothing but kiss you and you're already wet. You try to shut your legs out of habit, but Noah was still seated between them.
"Hey," His voice is rough, but he leans down, meeting your eyes again. A hand rests against the top of your thigh, his fingers dipping dangerously close to the one spot you're aching for him to be. "You okay? You don't need to hide."
You nod again because nothing seems to come out and Noah shakes his head, hair moving around.
"Talk to me." 
Something in his tone has you shivering again, and you swallow. "I'm okay... just not used to this." 
"I understand." His eyes drop from yours down to his hand against your thigh, watching as he gently caresses the skin. You can't help but squirm when his fingers get a bit too close to where you want him, and he glances up at you, lips quirked up into a grin. "I promised to take care of you, and I'm going to."
"I know."
He doesn't respond, just gives you another grin before he slides his body down yours, nestling himself in between your legs. You've never had someone that close to that part of you before, the closest being a finger or two, and when Noah's tugging at the band of your underwear you have to look anywhere but him. Your hips rise off the bed, and you let him drag them down your legs, almost achingly slow, and your eyes lock onto the ceiling.
You're bare in front of him and just knowing that has your chest tightening, your throat closing up. Your fingers move back to the sheets beneath you, and you grip them tightly, squirming when you feel Noah's fingers drag up your thigh. You feel him shift, finger dragging closer and closer to your center, and then the brush of his lips against your inner thigh. You squeak.
“It’s okay.” He murmurs, so low you barely catch it. “Have you ever been fingered before?”
You nod, stiff and quick. “Mhm. Felt weird.”
“Probably because you were so tense.” Another quick kiss was pressed to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that.”
He starts off slow, a long, slender, tattooed finger sliding up and down your slit before he gently prods at your entrance. You suck in a breath when you feel him push in, body stiffening again. You've been fingered before, you're not that inexperienced, but it's always been uncomfortable. Not enjoyable. Noah senses your unease and presses a kiss to your hip, his free hand rubbing your thigh.
"Need you to relax, baby." His voice is muffled by your hip and the word baby has your entire body flushing. "It'll feel good when you do."
"How do I do that?" You whine out, fingers gripping the sheets. He pushes forward again, his finger now fully inside you. It feels... foreign. 
"Stop thinking so much." He lifts his head up and you sneak a glance down at him, his eyes blown wide, and lips pursed in a slight pout. "Think of something that relaxes you, because you're way too stiff right now."
You toss your head back against the pillow, huffing out, and Noah laughs softly to himself and scatters a few more kisses against your skin. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, body almost instantly melting into the mattress. 
"Keep doing that."
"Kissing you?" He mumbles, lips brushing over your hips again. You nod.
"Yes. Please."
"Atta girl," He mumbles, almost to himself when he pumps his finger inside of you, finally relaxing around him to make the action much easier than before. "I got you."
This goes on for a few minutes - soft, delicate kisses being placed along your skin as he worked a finger inside of you. As time went on, the odd and almost painful stretch from before became... pleasurable. You don't even notice the tiny noises slipping from your lips and your hips slowly rocking down to meet his finger.
"You think you can take another?"
You nod. A second finger slips in, and the stretch has you keening, back arching slightly off the bed. It wasn’t terrible, though. No, it felt good. So much better than your previous experiences. You clench around his fingers, and you hear Noah groan quietly, face pressing against the inside of your thigh to muffle the noise.
“Fuck.” You curse out when he picks his movements up, fingers now scissoring in and out of you.
“Feel good?” Noah sounds strained, like he’s trying to hold himself together even though you’re the one experiencing all the pleasure. You nod.
“Really fucking good.” You choke out, hips bucking down to meet his fingers. “Green. Please don’t stop.”
“I won’t, baby.” Noah mutters, not once letting up. “Doing so well for me.”
You practically purr at his words, your body warming up and feeling the fly all over. You’ve always been one to love a good bit of praise, and hearing it come from Noah was something you’d never imagined enjoying so much. A surprised gasp leaves you when you feel his thumb press against your clit, applying pressure while his fingers continued.
"You've ever been ate out before?"
Noah's words pull you away from the cloud you were just on, the pleasure coursing through your body. You whine, shifting your hips down to meet his fingers again but he stills his movements.
"No." You whimper. 
You wiggle your hips down to get some kind of friction, the heat that was beginning to pool in your tummy slowly slipping away. You hear Noah groan below you and he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, gently biting down on the soft plush of skin there.
"Can I be the first?" He breathes out, lips dancing across your skin. "Please. I'll make you feel so fucking good, I promise."
“Yeah,” You nod quickly, hips rolling down to gain some kind of friction again. “Please, just do something.”
That’s enough for him, diving headfirst between your thighs.
Noah leaves no mercy, his lips wrapping around your now swollen clit as his fingers begin moving inside you again. The feeling of his tongue wet and heavy against you and his long fingers pumping in and out of you has your eyes crossing, stars dancing around the edges of your gaze. You can't help but let another moan slip, hips bucking wildly. You feel Noah moan against you, angling his fingers up to press against something inside of you that's pulling an unexpected noise out of you, something mixed with a cry and a moan. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this before with another person.
The heat pooling in your returns much quicker than you thought and you feel yourself clench around his fingers, hips moving on their own accord. Noah moans again, tongue moving against you, and you swear you feel shifting at the end of the bed. You take a chance to glance down at Noah, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to hold in any noises and watch as Noah ruts his hips against the bed.
You’d never seen anything so insanely attractive before – Noah’s mouth working against you like a starved man and getting off on it to the point that he has to grind against the bed to get some kind of release. It’s enough to push you over the ledge, the heat in your stomach snapping and your cunt clenching around his fingers. You cry out, falling back onto the bed as your eyes squeeze shut. You’d experience orgasms before, but this was your first with another person, and it was probably the best damn orgasm you’ve ever had.
Noah doesn’t let up until you’re practically shaking, reaching down to curl your fingers into his hair and physically push him away. He laughs, light and airy, and turns his head to press a quick kiss to the side of your thigh before finally sitting up. You stare up at him with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath he took. You feel your heart pounding against your chest, ringing loudly in your ears as the realization of what just happened settles into your bones.
Noah just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life.
Your cheeks flush with color and before you could reach up and hide your face from him, he’s leaning down, hovering over you. You suck in a deep breath.
“Was that okay?” He questions softly, but you can hear the slight shake in his voice, and the look in his eyes was anything but soft.
You nod. “Better than okay.”
“Yeah?”
You watch a smile spread across his lips and find it hard to look anywhere but there, so you don’t, and you give him another nod.
“Do you wanna keep going?” He leans further down until your noses are barely touching and you’re doing everything in your power to pull him down and kiss the absolute fuck out of him.
You nod again, swallowing harshly. “Yes, please.”
He doesn’t say anything, just hums out a quiet noise of approval while brushing his nose against yours. You can’t stop yourself from smiling at the soft gesture while he sits up from the bed. You watch with hooded eyes as he pulls his shirt over his eyes and you let your gaze trail over him, not trying to hide the fact that you were indeed checking him out. You lived with him so of course you’ve seen him shirtless countless of times before, but now it was different. Much more intimate.
You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth as he’s pushing both his sweatpants and boxers down, crawling back towards you. You sit up and finally pull your shirt off as well, tossing it to the ground before lying back down, watching Noah reach over for the condom he had brought in with him, and you swallow down the nerves that were beginning to rise.
It’s now or never.
You meet his gaze again and the look he’s giving you, like he wants to devour you has a fire setting off inside of you. Your eyes drop to his achingly hard cock, watching as he rolls the condom on, and you squirm underneath him, fingers gripping the sheets below you. He grips his cock, long fingers wrapping around his length and your mouth practically waters at the sight.
You realize in that moment you’ve never wanted someone more than you do now, and that is definitely something you’ll have to unpack later. Right now, though, all you can think about is the way his slides the tip along your slit, teasing your entrance before pressing into your now sensitive clit. You whimper, hips wiggling down and Noah chuckles above you.
“Remember, red is for stop, yellow is for slow down, and green is for keep going. Okay?”
It takes you a minute to register his words, too focused on the way he looks above you, and you give a shallow nod. “Okay.”
“Good.”
Noah hikes your legs up around his waist and you circle them around him, unintentionally pulling him closer to you. The tip of his cock nudges against your entrance at that and you suck in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. He takes his time slipping in, going as slowly as he could, and you whine quietly, face scrunching up at the feeling. It was different than his fingers, much bigger, the stretch almost uncomfortable and not the same pleasurable feeling you had just moments before. You feel his body lean over yours when he finally presses in all the way, nose brushing against yours again.
“Look at me.”
You do, eyes opening to stare up at him. His voice sounded strained again, like he was holding himself back for you, and the look in his eyes has you melting into the bed. You stare up at him with wide eyes, not sure what to say, and he gives an experimental roll of his hips. You whine again, the stretch as his slide in and out of you has your back arching off the bed.
“Is this okay? Talk to me, baby.”
You give a small nod, another noise falling from your lips. “It’s okay, just… I’m yellow right now. Go slow, please.”
Noah let’s out a breath like he had been holding it and gave you a nod, giving another small roll of his hips before stilling inside of you. You have to shut your eyes because the way Noah was staring at you was almost too much, your chest feeling like a brick had been sat on it. You can’t believe that you were doing this, finally, and with your best friend no less.
He rests his arms on either side of you, leaning down to nose as your cheek before dipping his head down to press a few kisses against your neck. He nuzzled himself against you, letting one of his hands come down to rest against your hip, gently rubbing soothing circles against your skin.
“You’re already doing so good for me,” You hear him whisper, pressing another kiss to your neck. “Color?”
You flush, keening at his words and your back arches off the bed on its own, causing your hips to shift down and you fee his cock slide further inside of you. The head presses against that spot inside of you again and you let out an unexpected moan, pleasure finally sleeping through your veins. You clench around him, hips shifting down again, and he presses his face against your neck as a groan leaves him.
“Shit.” You breath out, hands coming up to card through his hair. “Green. I’m so fucking green.”
With another groan, Noah rolls his hips against yours and you moan again, eyes rolling back. The stretch of his cock no longer felt uncomfortable, pleasure coursing through you with each slow thrust Noah gives you. His lips never leave your skin, licking and biting at your neck with each roll of his hips.
He pulls back to press his forehead against yours, eyes boring into your own and you squeeze yours shut. Another moan leaves you as he gives a rather hard thrust, your fingers gripping the ends of his hair and tugging. He whimpers at the feeling and you tug again, wanting to hear those sounds fall from his lips more, and his movements speed up.
The heat you had felt in the pit of your tummy earlier was beginning to form again, warmth spreading through your chest. You open your eyes again just at the moment when Noah’s hand left your hip to slide in between both your bodies, rough fingers pressing against your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, a loud moan escaping you. The feeling of his fingers rubbing against your clit as his cock slides in and out of you was enough to make your head spin.
“You like that, baby?” He breathes out, lips dangerously close to your own. You nod quickly, whining out instead of answering properly. “Come on, you know I need words.”
“Fuck.” You choke out, a mix of a cry and a moan leaving you. “Feels so good. Please, don’t stop.”
This spurs him on, another whimper slipping from his lips as his hips snap into your own, pace picking up. You clench around his cock, the tip hitting the spot inside of you over and over again. His fingers never let up against your clit either, matching the pace his thrusts and you swear you feel dizzy, eyes rolling back. You’ve never felt like this before, and you think you prefer his cock inside of you over his fingers, the feeling unbeatable.
Your mind races just at the thought of Noah doing this for you, making you feel like this, wanting to take care of you, and your throat tightens for some reason. Something from deep inside your chest twists and you get the overwhelmingly need to be as close as possible to Noah, your fingers gripping the ends of his hair again.
“Noah.” You whimper out, eyes burning with unexpected tears.
“What is it, baby?” He grits out, eyes never leaving yours. His gaze softens when he notices your eyes watering, hips stuttering for a moment. “Are you okay? Tell me a color.”
You nod quickly, head knocking against his gently, and your hands drop from his hair to wrap around your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer to you.
“Yes, fuck. Green.” You moan, trying to swallow down the lump that had formed in your throat. “Just feels so fucking good. You make me feel so good, Noah.”
Your words just start pouring out, slurring together almost like you’re drunk, and your cunt clenches around him again. You’re close, so fucking close, you can feel it, and so can Noah.
“Yeah?” He whispers, lips brushing against your own. Your back arches as you give him another nod. “God, you feel so fucking good on my cock, baby. Everything I ever dreamed of.”
His fingers against your clit speed up, and you let out a choked moan at the feeling of the heat in your stomach snapping. The combination of his words and his thrusts, plus the pressure against your clit, has your orgasm hitting you at full force. You’re not sure what kind of noise leaves you, something primal pulling itself from your chest as your vision blurred again. You feel like your body was sent to heaven and back, the most euphoric feeling coursing itself through your veins as your orgasm washed over you.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit.”
You hear Noah groan from above you as he fucked you through your orgasm. You don’t know what comes over you in that moment, but staring up at Noah as he chases his son release, you don’t think you’ve ever seen something so beautiful. Without thinking, you pull him down to you, lips sliding over his sloppily as he continued to fuck into you. A surprised noise leaves him, muffled by your lips, and with one last thrust you feel him still inside of you, spilling his release into the condom.
Silence follows after that, nothing but the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath filling the room. Noah’s face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms are still tightly wrapped around him, holding his body against yours. That overwhelming feeling in your chest seems to return, but you can’t even fully think about it, your mind too hazy. You feel exhausted, limbs feeling like mush after two mind blowing orgasms, that you barley even register Noah pulling himself up and out of you slowly.
You watch with hooded eyes that are becoming too hard to even keep open as Noah crawls off the bed, sliding the condom off and throwing it away, searching your room for his boxers before slipping them on. It’s a blur after that, Noah looking for the cloth he had brought in, probably to clean you off, and you barely remember him getting back on the bed, slowly pulling you up to slip clean clothes on your body.
Your back meets the bed again as you flop back down, curling yourself into your bed. It’s never felt comfier, you think, as you feel Noah curl up behind you, pulling your blankets over both of your bodies. His arm feels heavy over your waist, and his lips leave a burning feeling against the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss there.
The last thing you remember is your fingers curling around your hand that rests against your stomach, whispering out, “Thank you,” as sleep finally overtakes you.
689 notes · View notes
babiebom · 6 months
Note
Hi :3 Can I request???? Sabation (sdv) x pregnant fem wife reader headcanons
A/N: this is actually really cute and especially because I posted the how many kids I think they’ll have thing I can kinda go into detail for each kid. AHHHHHH one thing about me is that I’m a family oriented sim(person) and I LOVE kids. I know it’s a thing right now to hate kids but I don’t and a lot of my fics involve this and I’m ranting so I’ll end this note here lmao.
Tw:pregnancy, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy complications, cursing, lmk if I should tag anything else!!
Bc:probably at least 10
Stardew Valley Masterlist
So in my other post I said that he would have either one or how many his partner wants
So I’m gonna say three because I think that’s like the average amount of kids people have
The very first pregnancy Sebastian is absolutely out of his mine
“Don’t touch my wife” “be careful she’s pregnant” “she can’t have that it’s not good for her or the baby”
To be honest I think you being pregnant would cause him to be more outspoken
Like usually he doesn’t say anything unless he has to speak up because he’s sorta antisocial(I don’t think he’s shy, he’s quiet because he wants to be)
But now he’s always saying something to someone.
He is literally just out of his mind with worry and he has to keep you and the baby safe
STAY AWAY FROM MY WIFE❗️❗️❗️🗣️🗣️
If it’s a particularly hard pregnancy he’s even more protective
Like if your doctor says bedrest Sebastian is taking that SERIOUSLY
You are not getting out of that bed unless you have to piss or shit nothing else.
He is so lucky to have a stay at home job, and even if you take time off because of the pregnancy he can take care of the animals.
At the birth he probably passes out while seeing your child being born
But it’s not out of disgust, it’s because his emotions are out of control.
Cries at the hospital, probably more than you do are you have to be like….Seb please calm down I get you love the baby but you’re crying all over them…….
Second child he’s more calm but is still VERY strict with you
Also since you already have a kid, the dynamic has changed.
He completely takes over anything that you were in charge of parenting wise.
Won’t let you cook for anyone
And the only thing you would be allowed to do is stuff you can do in bed
The second birth goes more smoothly, and he actually stays awake through it and is able to watch your child be born
Third pregnancy he would probably be ramped up in worry especially if you have had complications before and this being your last child
Since this would be your third time going through this I think he would be sick with worry but confident that you could take care of yourself.
During the third birth he actually has the confidence to cut the umbilical cord and would probably be excited to do so
Would probably be hesitant to have sex while you’re pregnant
Like all three pregnancies he would be like ummmmmm I don’t know about that what if I hurt you?
Will have sex if you reassure him bc I do think he might have a bit of a breeding kink and would want to.
I think first and second labors were progressed by y’all fucking
Third you both didn’t need to because your body was like yup let’s get it over with
Overall a very helpful and anxious daddy
Actually tries to make sure your kids get along
And tries to make sure that his relationship with them is good.
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skiller0dani · 3 months
Text
Going Home | Eleven
M A S T E R L I S T Doctor Who Masterlist
smut requests info w.c | 7k summary | you go home for a quick visit, and The Doctor leaves when he promised he was going to stay.
Welcome to my secret archive! This is a personal favorite that I have written. I hope you enjoy, and just remember some of the details may not line up bc I really didn't think they would get posted, as I wrote them for myself mostly. I hope you enjoy it anyway, there are no Doctor Who fics here or on Archive it's a travesty! So I thought I'd share my little collection with you all, enjoy my loves!
BTW I listened to The Long Song by Murray Gold for this piece. Also BTW, Eleven is my favorite Doctor followed by Ten. Also (I know shut up and let them read, Danielle) I'm AMERICAN LOL and I tried my best to make this seem Authentic to England, but it still has American twists to it, I don't mean to lol my culture is all I know.
CREDIT: Found the amazing Dividers at Firefly Graphics, check them out.
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“I’ll just be a minute, just want to pop in and say hi.” You smile, reaching for your handbag to sling over your shoulder. The Doctor smiles from the other side of the console, he’s used to this. Bringing Humans to live with him in the Tardis usually means occasional visits home. 
“Need me to tag along?” He asks, and you smile because you know he doesn’t really want to come. The Doctor has become hesitant in recent years to become over involved in his companions' families. You asked him why once, and he got this sad look on his face like he was remembering something. He didn’t tell you, but you knew whatever he was thinking of wasn’t good, so you didn’t ask. 
“No, that’s okay. My mum doesn’t really like you anyway,” you tease with a light smile on your face. The Doctor’s mouth drops open in offense as he makes his way around the console towards you. 
“What?! I haven’t done anything to that woman, she’s only met me one time!” The Doctor exclaims in disbelief. You chuckle as you look up at him, he’s stopped just barely a foot in front of you. You feel your heart begin to thrum unsteadily against your chest at the close proximity. You look up at him, your eyes meeting in a heated stare. 
“Oh you mean the time when you knocked on the door, promised her you’d keep me safe, and took me away with you? That time? Yeah I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t like you.” You joke, sarcasm in your voice. 
“You’re safe aren’t you? And I’m returning you, as promised.” He insists with a huff, leaning back against the console with his arms crossed. 
“Wait, you’re not leaving are you? I’m just visiting-” You begin, and the worry in your voice makes The Doctor smile. He reaches up to tenderly brush his palm against your cheek, his thumb stroking gently. 
“I’d never leave without you, promise.” His voice is soft, sincere and you believe him. 
“Okay, I’ll see you later then.” You smile, nervously leaning forward to press your lips against his cheek to give him a quick peck. Technically you and The Doctor aren’t together, and you clearly have feelings for him. You think he has feelings for you. You hope he does. Sometimes it's hard to tell with him. He has a small smile on his face as he watches you leave, flashing him another beautiful smile over your shoulder before you’re out the door. You see your parents' apartment building just ahead of you, and you’re already mentally preparing for the scolding you will receive in just a few minutes. 
You weren’t entirely fibbing when you told The Doctor your Mum doesn’t like him. She doesn’t. According to her, he’s the reason you quit your job and broke up with your fiance, who was a highly respected Attorney. In actuality you never loved Todd, he was so mind numbingly boring compared to The Doctor. You know meeting The Doctor has ruined any possibility of ever having a relationship on Earth because no man will ever have a chance of competing with The Doctor, he’s sort of it for you. Not like you’d tell him that though, or anybody for that matter. 
Nearly every star in the sky can be pinpointed back to him in some way, you wonder how dark and bleak the Universe would be if he didn’t exist. Everybody in this Universe owes their lives to him, and you’ll make sure he never forgets all the good he’s done. The Doctor tends to look at himself and see a monster, a selfish man who drags fragile Humans around with him to impress them, but you know that’s not true. Everybody needs a friend, even The Doctor...he just always seems to forget that. 
So how the hell could Todd from Barnaby and Scott Law Firm compete with someone like that? Has he ever even saved a cat from a tree? No, not worth his time, but he’d be there to represent the cat in court after the poor thing fell. You laugh softly to yourself as you trudge up the last flight of stairs before you finally reach your parents floor. You anxiously check out the window one more time, and you see the Tardis is still parked out on the lawn just where it was before. 
You’re not checking because you don’t trust him, or because you think he doesn’t want you to travel with him anymore but because The Doctor has a tendency to leave companions behind to keep them safe. He's already threatened to do it once when you wandered off and nearly got yourself killed. You don't think he actually would, he was just cross because you scared him. You approach your parents door, and hesitantly lift your hand to knock. You’re looking forward to seeing your Dad, your Mum not so much. You hear scrambling around and chairs scraping against the wood floors. The door flings open and you’re met with your 14 year old sister, Jeanie. 
“Jeans!” You exclaim joyfully, throwing your arms around your beaming sister. She hugs you back tightly, peering over your shoulder curiously. 
“Where’s your boyfriend?” She mumbles against your shoulder and you feel your chest seize and your face flush. 
“Who- The Doctor?” You ask incredulously, and Jeanie simply nods. 
“He- he isn’t my boyfriend Jeans, and he’s busy.” You dismiss her question as casually as you can, hoping your voice doesn’t give anything away as you make your way into your parents' spacious apartment. Your Father, Richard Scott, is a co-owner of Barnaby and Scott Law Firm, so you lived a privileged life. It’s also why your Mum was so dead set on you marrying Todd Farlan, who was conveniently employed at Barnaby and Scott. 
“Busy! He’s always busy, he promised he’d bring me a Quadricycle!” Jeanie pouted, a look of disappointment on her face. 
“And if he isn’t your boyfriend, then he should be.” She insists. 
“Wait, what’s a Quadricycle?” You ask, disregarding her previous comment, which she doesn’t miss. 
“Don’t pretend you’re not in love with him.” Jeanie teases, a dangerous and playful glint in her eye. 
“Quit it Jeans, I am not. Oh, hi Dad.” You smile as you round the corner into the kitchen, to see your Dad sipping a cup of coffee in a pinstripe suit. 
“My Happy girl has finally come back home! How long are you planning on staying this time?” He asks, and you love the lack of contempt in his voice. 
“Not long I’m afraid, just a few hours for a visit. I missed you.” You admit, letting your Father crush you against his chest. 
“Is that fellow of yours coming? The Doctor?” He asked, his eyes glancing back at the door. You shook your head, allowing your eyes to close as Dad rubs his hand up and down your back. Being in life threatening danger on a daily basis really made you miss your family, well Jeanie and your Dad anyway. 
“No he’s…working. He says hi.” You’re only half-lying. The Doctor got a strange message on the psychic paper he’s checking the authenticity of, so he technically is working. Keys jingle in the door, and your heart instantly plummets into your stomach. It’s your Mum. 
“Now Happy, you know how your Mother is. Just ignore her and put on a brave face, yeah?” Your Dad says, placing a hand on your shoulder once he feels the tension coming from you. Jeanie gave you a smile, dashing off to her room and you almost wished you could do the same. But you didn’t, you started getting busy on the dishes. Doing something else made it easier to ignore her. You can hear the clicking of her heels as she comes down the hallway, your Mother was the Headmistress of a Secondary School, and she acted like one. 
“Oh so you decided to finally grace us with your presence, hm?” Your Mother says, her voice stern.
“Hello Mum.” Your voice is polite, fake polite. You turn to give her a smile, and you see her graying blonde hair pinned back and her glasses perched up on her beak shaped nose. Come to think of it, your Mother reminded you of a bird with a pinched up face. She scans you from head to toe, her eyes flickering over you from the tops of her narrow glasses. 
“I suppose you look thin enough, a bit worn out though. What is that Doctor doing to you anyway?” Her voice is judgemental, accusatory as she places her black handbag down. She’s wearing a suit, a pantsuit, your Mother never wore skirts. 
“Nothing Mum, he hasn’t done anything.” You say patiently, sighing a bit as you turn back to the dishes. He only saves my life practically everyday and still you say horrible things about him, you think bitterly to yourself.
“Give her a break Christine, she just got home.” Your Father says, and you could hug him all over again. Your Mother reaches into her bag, pulling out a stack of papers. 
“Yes Richard I can see that, it’s perfect timing actually.” Your Mother begins and your Father swears under his breath. 
“Christ Christine, not this shit again. I already told you those won't hold up in a court, it’s not the fucking 1800s!” Your Father snaps and you have to physically pick your jaw up, you hardly ever hear your Father swear.
“Dad, what're you talking about? What are those papers?” You ask, your anxiety spiking. 
“Your Mother here has decided to write up a contract betrothing you to Todd Farlan.” Your Father explains hotly, this is clearly something they’ve argued about before. You feel your heart seize, and cold dread washes over you. You need to go back to the Tardis now, you never should have come home. 
“What?” Your voice is small, you hate how afraid you sound. Your Father turns to face you, looking in your eyes. 
“Happy, don’t forget I’m a lawyer. I won’t let anybody do anything to you against your will.” Your Father promises and you nod, avoiding your Mothers eyes. 
“Richard let me talk to her. Alone.” Your Mother asks, tapping her heel impatiently against the kitchen tile. He doesn’t move. 
“Oh for God sakes, I just want to talk to her. She’s my daughter.” Your Mother huffs, and you want to sink into the floor. Could your Mother really marry you off to Todd without your permission? She seems to be sure it’s going to happen, was she going to do this behind your back while you were gone? You’d come back suddenly married to Todd? You feel sick when you think about all of this. You regret telling The Doctor not to come, you wish he was here. You wanted him to swoop in and rescue you like he always does. But he’s outside tinkering in the Tardis and you told him not to be worried unless night has fallen and you still haven’t come back. He needs to make you a ‘help me!’ button that you can press and alert him you need his help. Like a Doctor Life Alert. 
“It’s okay Dad. Just 5 minutes Mum.” You tell her, and you want your voice to sound stronger but it sounds so small and afraid. It’s hard for you to be brave when The Doctor isn’t around, he has this way of making you feel like you can do anything. He believes it too, even if you don’t. Your Dad leaves the kitchen, giving you an arm squeeze and a wink as he goes. You remain standing by the sink, a guarded look on your face as you cross your arms. Your Mother slides the stack of papers towards you. 
“Just read them, I think you’ll find the terms aren’t as bad as you think. You loved this man once, would marrying him really be so awful?” Your Mother is giving you this look, this I love you and only want the best for you look, but you don’t believe her. Not anymore. 
“I don’t love him anymore, and actually that sounds like a hell crafted specifically for me. I couldn’t imagine anything worse. The only thing I want in this world is to travel with The Doctor.” You say patiently, though you’re starting to losing your patience. 
“Ah, not that stupid man again! You’re traveling with someone you don’t even know Y/N! You don’t even know his name!” She exclaims, frustrated. 
“You wouldn’t understand.” You huff, you know the truth. You know that worlds would burn and the fabric of reality would split open if someone uttered The Doctor’s name at the wrong place, at the wrong time. His name is literally dangerous information, besides The Doctor suits him just fine. 
“No, and I don’t care to anymore. That’s besides the point. I have it written up in this contract that you will be allowed to continue traveling with whomever you choose at your discretion.” Your Mother explains, and all of this is raising red flags in your head. 
“That’s awfully kind, what’s the catch?” You ask, your voice flat and sarcastic. There’s a catch, there’s always a catch. 
“You have to return home to produce children, an heir so to speak for his family's prestigious name and fortune. Once you have given him a male heir, you are free to do whatever you like.” Your Mother explains, like this is all normal stuff. Like the two of you are discussing the shopping, debating wheat bread versus rye. 
“Oh my God. So if I sign this, I have to come home to have sex, squeeze out a baby and then I’m free to do what I’m already doing without all that nonsense? Sign me right up!” You snap, pushing past her to head towards the front door.
“You get security for life Y/N! Knowing you’ll be taken care of when this little phase of yours has passed. A life to come back to!” Your Mother insists as you quickly gather your things. Jeanie has slowly emerged from her room by now, watching you gather your things with sad eyes. 
“This isn't a phase! I have a life. A good life.” Is the last thing you say before you slam the door and barrel for the stairs. Tears blur your vision as you stumble down the stairs, you need to get out of here as soon as possible, you doubt you’ll ever come back. You’ll run away with The Doctor and stay gone. The Tardis is your home now anyway, you love her. You push through the doors of the complex building and look up to where the Tardis is parked only to see that she’s gone. 
“No, where did he go?” You cry, your tears coming out heavier. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 
“No, no Doctor, where are you? I need you, you idiot!” You cry softly, your chest tightening when you realize you’ll have to go back to your parents apartment to wait for him. You know he’s coming back, he is. He wouldn’t leave you here, you know he wouldn’t. He’s going to come back and get you. He promised. 
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The Tardis lands in the lawn, just where it was before and The Doctor rushes for the doors. He hopes he timed it correctly because you’ll be cross with him if he’s late. He just had a quick errand to run, which was actually picking up your favorite and rare snacks from around the galaxy. He knows visits home are difficult for you because of your Mother so he made you a little care package for when you get back. It also has bath spa stuff, and some of your favorite movies.
The Doctor won’t admit his feelings for you to even himself, he’s literally never breathed the words aloud. The feelings he has for you are a lot like the Tardis, bigger on the inside. So big they fill every corner of his mind and consume his every thought with you. Where are you? Are you safe? What are you doing? Do you miss him? Do you think about going home? The list goes on, everything he does is for you. Every time he’s fighting to protect the Universe, he’s mostly fighting to protect you. Them too, but mostly you. 
He throws the doors open and instantly both hearts have dropped to his stomach. It’s evening, and not only that but according to the newspaper- it’s evening and 4 months from when he dropped you off. He left you here, with your Mother, for 4 months. The Doctor is immediately sprinting for the stairs, you’re never going to forgive him for this. He makes it up the stairs in record time, turning for your parents door and knocking frantically. Nobody answers, so he keeps on pounding and he doesn’t care if he wakes everybody up. He knows your Mother, remembers the horrible stories you’ve told him about her, he needs to get you out of here now. 
Eventually the door opens to reveal Jeanie standing in a tank top and fuzzy pajama pants. She smiles when she sees him, her face bright. 
“Doctor!” She exclaims, throwing her arms around him. She adores him even though she’s only met him a few times. 
“Thank goodness you’re here. Are you here to get Y/N?” She asks and The Doctor looks over the top of her head into your family's apartment. The lights are on, and it looks like Jeanie is the only one home. 
“Hello Jeanette! Yes, she in?” He asks, already making his way inside the apartment. Jeanie kicks the door shut with her foot, heading back into the living room where her movie was paused. The Doctor is the only one who calls Jeanie by her full name, 'Jeanette', and surprisingly he's the only one she lets call her that.
“Wait, why did you say that? 'Thank Goodness'?” He asks, turning and bending down to look right in Jeanie’s eyes. 
“Well it’s just that my Mum has been horrible to her, wrote up this contract to marry her off.” Jeanie explains and The Doctor feels dread ball up in the pit of his stomach. Marry? As in marriage? As in you’d be marrying another man? The Doctor doesn’t say anything as he races down the hallway to your bedroom door. 
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You’re sitting at your desk, your chest aching. You know he’s coming back, that’s not even a question in your mind. He’s just…late sometimes. You really have no idea how long you’ll be waiting here for him, could be a few months, could be many years. You have been ignoring your Mother and the contract. It’s laying out on your desk, you admittedly read it. If you had 3 brain cells and the talents of a half-dead gnat you’d see your Mothers point. The terms could be worse, but your life after signing this contract would be a living hell. You’d have to have sex with Todd, and the thought of ever letting him touch you again was appalling. The thought of carrying and birthing his children was even more appalling. You just wanted The Doctor here so bad, you wanted him to sweep you away back into your little dream life you shared with him. Your chest ached as hot tears stung your eyes, where is he? 
Suddenly, at that exact moment, you hear rapid and harsh knocking on your door. 
“Y/N? Open the door, it’s me. I’m so sorry I’m late sweetheart.” It’s The Doctor, you can hear the panic in his voice through the wood of your door. Your bedroom door doesn’t have a lock, so he can enter if he wants to but The Doctor has this silly rule that he’ll never enter your space without your permission. You stand, the relief fading away to anger. He left you here, for 4 months! You cross your arms, you want him to grovel a little. 
“Please, darling open the door. Let me explain.” He begs softly, not hearing anything on the other side of your door. You creep closer to your door, you can hear him breathing heavily on the other side. Your chest warms, did he sprint all the way up here from the Tardis? 
“I didn’t mean to leave you here sweetheart, I promise I didn’t. You know the Tardis, she does what she wants! I didn’t leave you here on purpose, please talk to me.” The Doctor tries again, pressing his forehead against the door. Your fingers trail lightly over the handle, you’re not ready to open the door yet. Not ready to ease his panic, not after he left you for 4 months. Hearing the pet names is helping, though you won’t tell him that. 
“Y/N, is this because you want to marry that man your Mother is trying to ship you off to?” The Doctor asks hesitantly, afraid that you’ll answer the door with a diamond engagement ring on your finger. You open the door, and the first thing you do is slap him hard across the cheek. Tears are building in your eyes, and you want to stay strong. You want to stay mad at him for what he did, but the desperation in his eyes as he looks down at you breaks your heart. When the first tear falls, The Doctor is back in your space. His thumb brushes the tear away while his arms pull you against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tenderly, one hand cradling your head against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, closing his eyes while muttering soft apologies against your hair. 
You pull back to look at him your voice thick with tears, “I don’t want to marry Todd. I’ve been waiting for you, you complete idiot.” 
The Doctor presses you firmly against him, guilt beginning to seep in. He hates that he hurt you, he hates that when you needed him he wasn’t here. He hates that he left you. You turn your head to look up at him again, The Doctor’s hand still cupping your cheek. His other hand reaches up to cup your other cheek, his eyes studying yours. You hold your breath, eyes glancing from his to his lips. Is he going to kiss you? You want him to kiss you, really bad. He pulls you closer to him, and then he does it. He can’t help it, the way your watery eyes are looking up at him tempt him to you. He presses his lips gently against yours for a soft kiss. He tries to pull back, but you curl your hands around his jacket and pull him back to you roughly. 
The Doctor’s body collides with yours, and his arms curl around your back as your lips move desperately against his. You can tell he intended for this to be a soft and sweet kiss, he’s old fashioned like that. But you’ve been waiting for this for so long, you can’t control your hands as they pull him closer to you, as close as he can get. You want to feel every inch of his body pressed against yours. But his hands press against your shoulders, pushing you back lightly. He doesn’t let you get too far though, he keeps his arms around you and your body pressed firmly against his. His eyes are wide, and there’s a cheeky grin pulling at his face. 
“Well hello.” The Doctor says softly, his forehead resting against yours. Your cheeks color, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. You hate that you’re so much shorter than him, he however revels in this fact. 
“Shall we go home?” He asks, stepping into your room to grab your handbag. He spots the contract sitting on your desk, flipped open to the 197th page, and a highlighter sitting on top. 
“Y/N, were you considering this?” He asks, both hearts nervously racing. In truth, you weren’t. You just had nothing better to do waiting for him then look over this stupid contract. However, you still wanted to make The Doctor squirm a little. 
“Maybe...how was I to know when you’d come back? You said you accidentally left Amy for 12 years. How was I supposed to know you would come back so soon!” You exclaim, loving the way he anxiously shifts from foot to foot. 
“So you were?” He asked, wounded sad eyes looking up at you. 
“He was good in bed.” You lie, he was terrible in bed and you only slept with him the one time. It was so awful you never did it again, he didn’t warm you up and finished in 30 seconds. The Doctor stiffens, a much different look in his eyes now. Something fierce and angry shines in them, and his hands begin to twitch. 
“Have you slept with him recently? Since you’ve been waiting for me?” The Doctor asked, and he knows he doesn’t really have a right to ask. He shouldn’t, it’s improper enough to make him blush, usually. Now however, he’s too angry to pay attention to how improper and forward it is. 
“What would you do if I said yes?” You asked softly, eyes peering up at him as he slowly approached you. The Doctor wrapped one arm around your body, yanking you against him. You were breathless as your hands landed on his chest, your lust blown eyes staring up at him almost dreamily. His lips were brushing against yours, you could feel his breath. 
“Has he seen you? Touched you? Recently?” The Doctor asks again, although this one sounded more like a demand than a question. He ghosts his lips over yours, and you so desperately want him to kiss you again. 
“No, no I was just trying to make you angry.” You admit wantonly, pressing yourself against him and trying to lean up on your tippy toes to connect your lips. The Doctor hums, allowing you a short but heated kiss before he pulls back again. 
“You did.” He confirms, kissing you once, twice, three times before the sound of the front door closing gets both your attention. You exit your room first, and the sight before you makes anger bubble in your chest. It’s your Mother, standing in the living room with Todd Farlan. The man you will not be marrying. He doesn't look like he wants to be here, your Mother likely made him.
“What the hell is this?” You snap, feeling a warm presence behind you. Your Mother narrows her eyes at The Doctor, especially at the close proximity between the two of you. 
“Is this why you’ve been so impertinent? Because you love this man?” Your Mother sneers, and Todd looks very uncomfortable. 
“Yes! I love The Doctor, and nothing you say or do will change that. I’m not going to marry Todd.” You snap, and you feel The Doctor gently take your hand in his. You pull him towards the door, sending your little sister a sad smile before exiting the apartment. The two of you walk back to the Tardis in silence, but your hand stays wrapped safely in his. You realize suddenly that you really do feel safe with The Doctor in all ways, you know your heart is safe with him too. He opens the door for you and your eyes water at the basket sitting on the console. It’s filled with all of your favorite things, things for a perfect relaxing day in. 
“Did you do that?” You ask, knowing there’s nobody else who could have done it. 
“It's why I was late.” He says sadly, eyes meeting yours when you move to stand right in front of him. You don’t say anything, you just wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him tenderly. Now that he’s kissed you, you don’t ever want to stop kissing him. His hands find your hips and he gives you a small smile. 
“It’s alright, I forgive you.” You say softly, and he presses his forehead against yours. 
“Doctor?” You breathe, you squirm as you feel a nervous wriggling in your belly. You can’t really believe you’re about to say this, but the aching from between your thighs is unbearable and only he can fix it. He hums, his attention on you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. 
“I…I want-” You cut yourself off, you can’t say this. You can’t. The Doctor already knows what you want, can see it in the way your fingers play absentmindedly with the button of his trousers. He really wants to hear you say it though. 
“What do you want, my love? C’mon darling, use your words.” The Doctor prods gently, and you squirm under his knowing gaze. 
“More.” You reply, your voice small and quiet. The Doctor presses a loving kiss to your forehead. 
“More what?” He asks, and you give him a look that says, you’re really going to make me say it? 
“More kissing, more touching.” You explain shyly, and The Doctor’s smile only grows. The Doctor’s hands lift you up from under your thighs, you sequel in surprise as your legs wrap around his hips. You can feel him hardening in his trousers, and you moan softly when he presses against your aching center. His arms wind around your back, pressing you close to him as his lips press to your neck. The sound makes a shiver ripple down his spine, he wants to hear you make that sound again and again and again. The Doctor isn’t paying attention to where he’s going, being far too occupied with your quiet moaning to look so the Tardis helps and materializes your room right in front of him. 
He stumbles through the door and to your bed, placing you gently onto it. He leans back and looks down at you, the stunning view in front of him not one he wants to take his eyes off anytime soon. Your loose tank top you’d been wearing for bed has slipped down, your breasts practically spilling out of it. Your pajama shorts were hiking up, revealing more and more of your thighs. The Doctor feels nearly overwhelmed with lust, he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He doesn’t want to hurt you because he’s lost himself in a lust-filled frenzy. 
“Is this alright?” The Doctor asks softly, and you nod. You look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. It warms him up from the inside out, and he leans down over you to kiss you again. He moves slowly, languidly, softly against your lips as he lays you more firmly against the mattress. He is old fashioned after all, and is it not the gentlemans job to take care of all his loves needs? The Doctor’s hands thumb the hem of your tank top, and you lean up to let him lift it off you. Your bare chest is instantly revealed to him, you were about to go to bed, you hadn’t been wearing a bra. Your cheeks color and warm. 
“Beautiful my love, absolutely beautiful.” The Doctor breathed in awe, leaning down to press his lips against your soft skin. His lips landed between your breasts and The Doctor closed his eyes, it’s been a very long time since he has even attempted to indulge this rather primal need. Not since he was with his wife on Gallifrey, and even she passed a few years before the Time War- point is: it’s been a really really long time and The Doctor is struggling to restrain himself. His lips travel across your breasts, stopping at your nipple to bite gently and pull a few soft, desperate moans from you. 
“Please don’t go anywhere.” You beg suddenly, and the desperation hiding in your tone makes The Doctor’s chest hurt. 
“I won’t my love, I’m here. I’ll take care of everything, just lay back alright?” The Doctor says lovingly, and you can only nod dumbly. He hooks his thumbs into your shorts and presses a kiss to your hip bone before pulling them down and off your feet, tossing them behind him. He feels a swell of heat rush through his entire body, and he is rock hard by now. You aren’t wearing any panties, and he can instantly see your wet cunt. He can smell your wet cunt, being a Time Lord has that effect. It’s intoxicating, and slowly driving him mad. He takes your ankles and roughly yanks you down the bed, his composure is slipping. 
“How long?” You ask, you can feel his palms shaking. Can see how lost and unfocused his eyes are. They are scanning your entire body, and he’s mouthing hotly at your neck and breasts. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, holding him firmly to you. 
“Too long.” Is what he mumbles against you, his fingers reaching up to unbutton his vest. His jacket has long since been thrown off, and his bowtie discarded in the pile somewhere as well. 
“You have so many layers.” You whine, and The Doctor smiles at the neediness in your tone. He presses your hips together then, momentarily holding onto your hips so he can grind himself against you. 
“Patience my love.” He smiles, finally shaking off his vest and shirt. Your hands are instantly exploring his smooth warm chest, touching all the skin that’s been revealed to you. He leans over you again, his lips pressing against yours. His lips move slowly against yours, and you moan softly against his mouth. The Doctor trails his hands down your stomach lightly, and along your inner thighs. You’ve parted your legs wider to make room for him, and the Doctor reaches down to release some pressure in his trousers. He unbuttons them and yanks the zipper down, releasing a sigh as some of the suffocating pressure is released. 
“More.” You beg against his lips softly, and how could The Doctor deny such a request from his love? He trails his hands up your inner thighs, and he finally parts your folds gently, feeling for your entrance. 
“Oh,” You gasp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The Doctor carefully slides 2 fingers inside you, and you moan at the sudden intrusion. 
“I’m sorry my love, was that too much?” The Doctor asks, panic seeping in that he’s done something wrong because he can’t control his impulses. But to his surprise, you shake your head quickly, your head tossed to the side and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 
“No, please keep going, my love.” You beg quickly, wriggling your hips so he starts moving. The Doctor smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck as he starts to thrust his fingers into you at a slow and steady pace, he wants to take you apart lovingly, carefully, not rough and hasty. That’s not what you deserve. You moan louder, more desperately as your back arches and you press your bare chest against his.
The Doctor is having a hard time believing this is really happening.
He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, and you can feel your orgasm slowly building. The Doctor pulls back to look at your face, and the look on your face takes his breath away. Your head is tossed back against the pillow, your eyes closed and your mouth parted as you moan and cry out in his ear. The Doctor thinks this right here might be heaven, and he doesn’t even believe in heaven. 
“I’m going to come, oh God Doctor please please-” You’re rambling, and The Doctor keeps moving his fingers. You squeeze around him suddenly, coming and gushing around him. The Doctor groans against your neck, his cock throbbing in his trousers at the sight of you soaked and twitching from oversensitivity. After a few minutes of The Doctor pressing gentle kisses to your neck, chest and collarbones while you recovered from your orgasm, you looked up at him again. 
“More.” You said again and The Doctor smiled fondly above you, and he swears if it were possible, there would be cartoon hearts circling above his head. 
“Are you sure you can handle more my love?” The Doctor asks softly and you nod quickly. 
“Yes please, I um… I want to feel you inside me. I want to be yours.” You admit, avoiding looking in his eyes by trailing your fingers across the moles and occasional freckles across his neck and shoulders. The Doctor’s mind goes completely blank at your words, the lust overpowering everything else. Your words go straight to his cock, and he presses his lips against yours quickly. 
“You’re already mine.” He promises between kisses and you believe him. You reach your hand down, pushing at his trousers and boxers beneath. The Doctor helps you finish undressing him, and he kicks his trousers off to the side before leaning over you again. 
“Y/N, my love, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” The Doctor asks, he needs to ask. Needs to know you want this, needs to know you won’t come to your senses later and realize you made a mistake. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Sex was not something that was casual to The Doctor, he didn’t have sex ever. Unless it was with someone he really, truly loved. 
“Yes I’m sure, please I can’t take it anymore. I want to feel you.” You beg, eliminating any fear from The Doctor’s mind of you changing your mind. The Doctor leaned back then, grasping the base of his cock with one hand while he braced himself over you with the other. He lined himself up with your entrance, dragging his tip from your entrance to your clit to warm you up. The Doctor pressed his lips against yours, he was a romantic at heart. He wanted, needed, to be close to you. He eased himself into you as soon as your lips touched, and your back rose, pressing your chest against him as you cried out sharply. 
“You’re so big oh my God-” You gasp, and The Doctor cradles you lovingly against him and he slowly works himself inside you. 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, Time Lords weren’t designed to breed with Humans. There’s a bit of a size difference.” He explains, his voice strained. You’re so tight, so wet and warm, and you’re squeezing him so so tightly. Once The Doctor has his pelvis pressed flush against yours he stays still, to calm the racing of his hearts. You’re squirming against him, gasping and moaning as slick gushes out of you. The intrusion is intense, and the stretch it takes to accommodate him burns. 
“Darling, is it too much? Do you need me to stop?” The Doctor asks when he notices the pain on your face, even though the thought of stopping now seems impossible. 
“Don’t you dare.” You warn, eyes watery as you look up at him. The Doctor holds your body against his, propping himself on his forearms above you. Your legs wind around his waist, and your arms grasp at his shoulders. The Doctor kisses your forehead as he pulls his hips back, all the way back until just the tip is inside you. Then he swiftly slides back into you at a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. You cry out desperately as he steadily thrusts into you, panting against your shoulder. The Doctor pulls his head back to watch where you two connect, the place where both of you become one. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you again and again makes The Doctor feel tingly and warm all over. 
The Doctor leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, and you moan against him as your legs begin to tremble. 
“Going to come-” You whine desperately, and The Doctor changes the angle of his hips just enough to make your toes curl and tears to slip from the corners of your eyes. The Doctor reaches one hand up to swirl at your clit, rubbing it in soft, gentle circles. The other hand cups your cheek, wiping gently at your tears.
“Come for me my love, I want to feel you.” The Doctor breathes and that’s all you need to tumble over the edge. You squeeze around him, and your nails bite into his shoulders, dragging upwards as you cry out and writhe against him. The Doctor curls his arms around your body to try and hold you still, and your eyes meet his and it’s simply erotic. 
“Keep looking at me.” The Doctor instructs and you force your eyes open so you can keep looking at him. The pleasure is overwhelming, he keeps thrusting and it keeps going, the hot pleasure washing over you. 
“Where do you want me to- God- to come my love?” The Doctor asks and you know where instantly. 
“Inside me, please please come inside me.” You beg, and The Doctor groans against you as he buries his face in your neck. The Doctor keeps pushing into you, until he presses himself as deep as he can go and you feel him coming inside you in hot spurts. The Doctor presses his forehead against yours, and you feel him softening inside you. 
“Are you alright, my love?” He asks, but you don’t respond. The Doctor pulls back instantly, his hands cradling your face. Your eyes are closed. Panic spikes hot in his chest, did he hurt you? Time Lords and Humans don’t normally have sex, was it too much for you? 
“Y/N, my love, open your eyes.” The Doctor pleads, and you slowly peek one eye open. A smile tugs at your lips when you see the worry in his eyes. 
“I’m just relaxing, you worry too much.” You tease, and The Doctor releases a shaky breath. 
“You scared me.” He says, carefully pulling himself out of your warm heat. You whine, lazily grabbing at his hips as he withdraws himself from you. 
“I have to clean you up my love.” The Doctor whispers softly, pressing kisses to your hairline as he scoops you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and places you gently on the counter. The counter is cold beneath your heated skin and you jump when he puts you down. The Doctor kisses your temple before leaning down to draw your bath. After the water has started to fill the tub, he turns for the door. 
“Wait, where are you going?” You ask nervously, you don’t want him to go. The Doctor smiles fondly at you, kissing your head. 
“I’ll be right back my love, I’m going to get all that fancy bath stuff I got you.” The Doctor kisses you and then retreats from the bathroom. You smile to yourself, feeling happiness overwhelming you before you slide into the warm bath water. 
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salmonskinrolltf · 3 months
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On Gay-To-Straight TF Stories
I’ve been seeing a lot of comments flying around regarding gay-to-straight transformations, so I thought I’d establish my personal code of ethics and perspective on this type of story, just so anybody reading my work is on the same page.
I am a proud gay man and in no way wish to be straight. Gay conversion is torture and it does not work, full stop.
However, my perspective is that erotic TF fiction exists in the realm of fantasy, where every aspect of the story is depicted in a controlled environment that cannot physically harm the reader or the writer, allowing for a safe exploration of different expressions of sexuality. This is why rape fantasies can be popular in erotic fiction, even with readers for whom sexual assault is a major source of fear and worry. The tacit consent involved in choosing to read a story containing those elements goes a long way in establishing a healthy and safe approach to the material.
For me, where my interest in gay-to-straight stories comes from is the idea of opposites. I love sending my characters from one end of the spectrum to another. Preppy to jock, twink to daddy, city boy to redneck, and so on. It’s also fun to play with the way stereotypical masculinity does or doesn’t coincide with sexuality.
Gay to straight and straight to gay are both huge turn-ons for me as far as sending a character to the other end of a spectrum. This is not because heterosexuality is any better than homosexuality, or vice versa. It’s just because, for me, the core of transformation is completely uprooting the physical and mental identity of a character. In the same vein, I personally also like corrupting the mindset of a character when I can, stripping away the moral and ethical framework through which they view the world. However, I have made an effort to avoid including triggering hate speech that would take a reader out of the fantasy by getting too real.
You may have noticed that I take the same slightly softened approach with the sexuality of my straight characters. While turning gay characters straight is a good time, I don’t actually have any interest in cis men having sex with cis women. Thus, my straight characters essentially operate more as asexual douchebags than genuine straight people. This is not the case with some other G2S writers, and that is OK too! It’s all about us exercising our creativity in the name of TF and expressing our sexuality and writing abilities in unique and fun ways.
While physical safety is inherently guaranteed by fantasy erotica, emotional safety is just as important, and the needs of each reader vary widely from person to person. If reading G2S stories is triggering for you, I completely understand. I have always tried to tag my stories that are G2S, but I sometimes forget all the tags I’m using at any given time, so going forward, I am going to try and do better about marking any G2S stories at the top of the post in addition to the tags. I want to give people the chance to opt out of reading them, but I have no intention of stopping writing them, and I hope this piece effectively explains my reasoning. 
For those who continue on the ride with these particular stories (which are just one subsection of everything I write), I have plenty of masculinity and sexuality fuckery coming your way.
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rosesofenvy · 1 year
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I was very inspired by @sha-biest goldenfuture au so I wrote a drabble for some of her most recent posts that I’m linking below! (they're also linked in the fic)
The arm incident
Leoichi
Kendratello
Check out the goldenfutureau tag if you’re confused!
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I'll Be the Sweetest Thing To Ever Scare You (5350 words) by rosesofenvy Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Samurai Rabbit: The Usagi Chronicles (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Leonardo (TMNT)/Yuichi Usagi, Donatello/Kendra (TMNT) Characters: Leonardo (TMNT), Donatello (TMNT), Yuichi Usagi, Kendra (TMNT), Michelangelo (TMNT), Raphael (TMNT), April O'Neil (TMNT), Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Agent John Bishop (TMNT) Additional Tags: goldenfutureau, shabiest golden future, Post Movie, Violence, Loss of Limbs, bishop is a dick, kidnapped donnie, saving donnie from bishop, both leo and donnie lose an arm, Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Hurt, lots of comfort, Nightmares, Injury Recovery, lowkey donnie whump, but kendra makes him laugh so it's all ok
Summary: Leo doesn't regret his choices to safe Donnie from Bishop, it just means a longer recovery for everyone involved.
Enjoy :)
Leo doesn’t regret his decision. 
Donnie had been missing for a week, a week of no contact, a week of frantic searches, and a week of desperate calls to every friend and enemy they had ever encountered. They spared no expense in their efforts to find him, but it was almost a slap in the face to find that Donnie had been so close to them all along - he hadn’t even been taken out of New York. The sudden burst of Donnie’s mystic energy, coordinates and maps tracing to his exact location had been a source of relief and frustration as they mobilized and moved out. 
Leo doesn’t regret moving when he did. 
Raph and Mikey were holding down the lower levels of the base, guaranteeing their escape route since their abilities were dampened by whatever that mad scientist Bishop had cooked up. Leo was in charge of the extraction of their brother since he was by far the fastest and they were relying on the element of surprise here. Someone who’d been able to take down Donnie without their knowledge wasn’t someone they were taking lightly. Whatever Bishop had installed in the building had disabled most of their mystic powers, he can’t even risk using his portals if he didn’t want to lose a limb. 
That doesn’t matter, he didn’t need mystic powers. He would tear this building apart with his bare hands if that meant he’d get his brother back safe. Faceless scientists run screaming past him, those who attempt to stop his progression are swiftly taken care of. Whether or not those rebuffs are nonlethal doesn’t matter, what does matter is that he’s reached the main lab. Kendra had shown him the blueprints, this entire floor was a blackout but he could assume it followed the general path that the previous labs had. As he bounds up the stairwell - and enters the open floor plan, every sense screams to high alert. 
Even though Kendra was controlling every electrical aspect to the lab, this floor only had emergency lights. Even with the low glow of bulbs placed too far apart Leo’s senses are overwhelmed. There’s too much. Wires sparking from where they’d been torn from the wall blood on the floor static from a radio system now defunct thanks to Kendra’s interference blood on the wall his brother's blood everywhere. It reeks of iron and metal and sickness and despite the nausea curling in his gut Leo doesn’t hesitate to sprint forward because there’s his fucking brother. 
Leo doesn’t regret throwing himself directly into the path of danger despite every time he’s been told to stop being such a self sacrificial idiot. 
Donnie is crumpled near some sort of shadowed metal robot. Leo can’t quite make out the details with the intermittent flicker from the emergency lights, but it doesn’t matter as he darts across the length of the lab. He couldn’t see any humans in this room, something that made his scales itch with paranoia as he searched the dark corners of the lab for movement but he can’t afford to waste his attention on the absence of a being when what he came for is right in front of him. As he’s almost to Donnie, the robot his brother is kneeled in front of activates with a flash of red and a creaking of metal. 
Leo regrets not moving faster. 
There’s a blankness in Donnie’s gaze that makes Leo’s heart clench as the softshell staggers to his feet, clearly exhausted and with blood dripping from a number of wounds. Despite standing, he sways and Leo can see that Donnie doesn’t or maybe can’t register the danger directly to his right. Leo can’t tell if Donnie even recognizes him.
“Donnie! Move! ” Leo screams, finally getting in range of his brother, but it’s still not enough. There’s a red light shining over the both of them, a warning burst of heat just as Leo wraps his left arm around Donnie’s shell and uses his momentum to shove them both out of the way. The blaze that wraps around Leo’s shell and scorches his arm clean off is so sudden that he doesn’t register what had happened until Donnie is on the floor beneath him. Pain radiates from the remains of his arm and he gasps through clenched teeth as he takes in Donnie’s uncomprehending stare and the blood slowly seeping from the partially cauterized remains of the softshell's left arm. Leo slams his panic button as he takes in the physical wounds Donnie had suffered over the past week. 
“You gotta keep your eyes open for me, we gotta wait for Raph, no passin' out yet.” Leo pants desperately, trying to follow his own order as he practically collapses over Donnie, "Is anyone still here?” 
Donnie’s eyes flicker open, and Leo follows the path of his gaze up to where he recognizes an observational balcony. Leo didn't see it before in his desperation to grab Donnie, but there’s an outline of a man holding some sort of control panel. Bishop. Leo’s grip on Donnie’s shoulder tightens, but the human makes no move towards and instead sinks into the shadows where Leo couldn’t follow. The building shakes and Leo tries to lift Donnie, but it’s useless with the weakness that has filled his limbs. Pounding footsteps reach his ears and Leo turns to see Raph emerge from the same stairwell he had run up just moments earlier. 
“Leo, Donnie!” Raph’s voice is frantic as he runs into the room. Leo feels his muscles going limp despite his best efforts to remain conscious as their older brother scoops them both up, then punches the machine to destroy the glass embedded in the robot that had nearly killed them both. The floor splinters beneath their feet and Raph wastes no time making their escape. 
Leo regrets not being able to stay conscious during the destruction of the lab. He would’ve liked to revel in the downfall of one of Bishop’s pride and joys. 
Waking up in the med bay was unfortunately a familiar experience for Leo. The steady beep of a heart monitor - although it was doubled for some reason, the scent of antiseptic, and the herculean effort it took to pry open his eyelids. 
The light was nearly blinding as he tilted his head to the side, registering the flow of drugs from the IV drip making his limbs feel heavy and grimacing at the dryness of his mouth. Mikey was sitting in a chair at his bedside, and at his movement the box turtle leaps up and grips the bars to the bed. 
“Leo! Are you awake?” 
Leo can’t do much more than click in response, already wanting to go back to sleep but the stress in Mikey’s expression keeps him conscious. How long had he been out for Mikey to look so concerned? What had even happened this time? What were they all doing before…
“Here, I’ve got some water for ya,” Mikey says quickly, grabbing a cup and urging Leo to drink, “Do you want-” 
“Donnie?!” Leo interrupts, voice rough as the memory of his brother, bloody and bruised, surfaces. He realizes through the sludge of the painkillers that he’d managed to grab Mikey’s hand before he could help him with the water and his grip was trembling as he searched Mikey’s face for answers. “Is he here? Is he ok?” 
“Donnie’s fine,” Mikey reassures, pointing over Leo’s shoulder, “look he’s right there.” At Mikey’s gesture Leo lets his head fall to the other side and can see Donnie laying flat on his plastron still passed out. That nausea swirls again at the sight of all the bandages and wires that seemed to mirror what was hooked up to Leo so he tilts back towards Mikey with a small sigh of relief. 
“Does Yuichi know?” He asks after he takes a few sips of blessedly cool water and can talk without it feeling like his throat is being carved to pieces. 
“Can you worry about yourself for two seconds Leo?” Mikey murmurs miserably as he fidgets with Leo's blankets, “What do you remember? Raph didn’t see what happened and Kendra couldn’t pull cameras since Bishop had everything disabled on that floor.” 
“I had to get Donnie out of the way,” Leo replies with a frown, “If I didn’t then…” It all hits him at once. The scene in the lab, the blood, the pain of a part of him being rendered from existence. He rolls his gaze down to his right arm, feeling an odd choking feeling overtake him as he realizes that his arm ends at the bicep, wrapped tightly in stark white bandages. 
“Bishop had built something, I couldn’t see all of it since the power had been cut to most of the lab, but Donnie had just been left there. When I was trying to get to him, it lit up and I realized…” He trails off, swallowing hard as he recalls the sharp angles and the alien features of the robot, a shape that had often haunted nightmares, “If I didn’t get him out of the way, then he would’ve-” his words are cut off by his own choked sob. He’d been so close to losing his brother. Donnie was so close to being gone because of some stupid fucking scientist. 
“Ok ok I got it,” Mikey quickly says, trying to calm the rising heart rate of his older brother and prevent those pained noises from escalating.  
“You gotta tell Yuichi, Mikey you gotta call him, it’s been a week he’s probably worried sick, ” Leo gasps, tightening his grip on Mikey’s arm. The guilt of unintentionally keeping Yuichi in the dark was eating at every ounce of air in his chest. 
“I will, I’ll get Raph to do it right now ok?” promises replies, holding onto Leo’s hand with both of his until he can feel Leo’s grip loosening and can see his eyelids fluttering. 
“Okay,” Leo mumbles, the burst of energy leaving him as quickly as it had arrived. “Mikey imma sleep now ‘kay?” 
“That’s fine Leo, rest up,” Mikey whispers, patting Leo’s hand as the slider relaxes and almost instantly falls back asleep. Mikey breathes a sigh of relief once he’s sure Leo’s under then sends a text to Raph. 
-------
Yuichi knew that it wasn’t necessarily uncommon for Leo to go radio silent on missions, it came with the territory of keeping the world safe. However, it’d been a week at this point and with the abruptness of Leo’s departure, he was anxiously pacing the length of his room and overthinking everything that could’ve gone wrong. It had become his habit within the week, spending his downtime in this way but the routine is interrupted when his phone begins buzzing. 
He leaps at where it had been set on his bedside table, dropping it on the floor once before he manages to hold onto it, seeing Leo’s caller ID and nearly crying with relief. 
“Leo! It’s been a week, are you ok? What happened to Donnie?” He rattles off once he answers, clutching his phone up to his ear and holding his breath for the response. 
There’s a beat of silence before Raph replies. 
“Hey Usagi, I don’t want you freaking out ok?” Raph greets gently, “I’m gonna tell you what happened and then Mikey’s gonna bring you over here.” 
“What went wrong? Is Leo hurt?” Usagi questions anxiously, feeling his phone beginning to creak with how tightly he was holding it. All of the worst case scenarios he’d been considering claw their way to the forefront of his mind. 
“Leo and Donnie were both seriously injured in the escape from the lab that Donnie was being held in, but they’re both alive and recovering,” Raph reports, “Leo’s been in and out of consciousness for the past day and he just woke up for longer than just a few minutes. He’s been asking for you. Are you ok to come over?” 
“Yes yes of course,” Usagi replies quickly, darting around to grab his katana and tug on his shoes, “Get me over there.” 
A golden portal opens in front of him as he’s pocketing his phone and Usagi doesn’t hesitate to step through. Once the spots clear from his vision he sees that Mikey had pulled him into the atrium of their lair, both Mikey and Raph waiting for him. He can see the exhaustion in their expressions and it makes the anxiety that had been simmering begin to boil over. 
“Where is he?” Usagi demands, dropping his katana onto the nearest empty surface and flicking his ears to see if he can catch any sound of the slider. He can hear the slightly raised heartbeats of the brothers in front of him before he catches the steady electrical beeps further into the lair.
“I’ll take you to him,” Mikey says, raising his hands in a placating gesture, “He’s still kind of out of it from the painkillers, but he’s been asking about you since he woke up.” 
Usagi knows that’s supposed to reassure him but it just makes his heart beat harder as he follows Mikey to the medical bay. He’s seen Leo hurt before, but it was very rare that he or any of the brothers had to be completely hospitalized. Their healing factors often kicked in before it was needed, so the thought of both of them being injured badly enough to need serious painkillers was nerve wracking. Since Donnie was on the far side of the room, Usagi’s gaze catches on the softshell before he fully enters and turns to see Leo. 
He’s not sure what to look at first, eyes flickering from the bruises under Leo’s eyes to the bandages wrapping around his upper chest and his right arm - his right arm that was gone from the elbow down. He can’t help his gasp, moving quickly to Leo’s bedside. Leo opens his eyes at the vocalization, gaze taking a moment to focus before he smiles gently. 
“Yuichi,” He says, voice soft but clearly rough from disuse as Usagi scans the lines of IV’s and wires before leaning over and cradling Leo’s head. He wraps his arms as gently as he could, tucking Leo’s head against his own as he whispers his name. He waits until he can hear the steadiness of Leo’s heartbeat before he takes a shuddered breath and shifts to hide his face against Leo.  
“‘Chi?” Leo inquires, drawing back a bit as he can feel the heat of Yuichi’s tears against the side of his neck. 
Yuichi moves back just enough to meet Leo’s eyes as he bites back the angry choking thing that wants to scream about unfairness and instead presses his cheek against Leo’s, seeing the tears budding in the slider’s eyes. 
“Don’t you dare do this again,” He whispers fiercely, “Next time you leave, I’m coming with you.” He can feel Leo’s tears mingling with his own, and it takes only a tilt of his head to connect the two of them in a kiss. Usagi would normally worry about the fact that Leo’s brothers were likely still nearby, and would be concerned if Leo was in any pain with the proximity, but all he can think about is how he nearly lost the slider and he would’ve only known when his brothers had been able to contact him. He curls the fingers he has cradling the back of Leo’s neck, feeling the slider sigh into his mouth before he pulls back and searches out Yuichi’s hand with his remaining one. Once their fingers are intertwined, Leo visibly relaxes. 
“I won’t Yuichi, promise.” 
“Damn straight,” Yuichi says firmly, “And if you think I’m leaving anytime in the near future you’d be sorely mistaken.” 
“Well the angle you’re standing at doesn’t look comfortable,” Leo offers quietly, “Care to join me?” 
Yuichi frowns at the number of wires that Leo was connected to before carefully arranging himself on the bed beside Leo. He can feel the tension fade as he carefully tangles their legs and props his head against the side of Leo’s. The slider melts into his side, sighing in comfort and it brings Usagi back to many of their sleepovers. If there wasn’t the scent of antiseptic and the sounds of heart rate monitors, he’d be able to pretend that it was just another night after coming back from a mission. The sleepless nights spent worrying over Leo’s condition catch up to him, and he allows himself to rest with Leo tucked into his arms. 
-------
Kendra had seen a lot in her time. Being a teenage hacker often meant seeing things that she really wasn’t supposed to. Sometimes it was what the neighbors Tuesday afternoon drunken parties entailed, sometimes it was the ledgers of foreign governments and lists of experiments that were far from ethical. 
Helping two of the Hamato’s through their amputations? That was new. She can’t help but thank her instinct to pursue medicine (sure it was veterinary medicine but it had helped them out here hadn’t it?) as she clears away the materials she’d used for stitches.
She wasn’t sure what to think when she was first contacted about Donatello being missing. It seemed that the Hamato’s had just been going through each of Donnie’s contacts to see if they’d heard anything. She wasn’t sure if she was surprised that she was one of the first on his list since she was contacted mere hours after his disappearance, but she was not ashamed to admit that she threw herself back into her computer hacking days to provide her services. 
It was odd, returning to watching cameras and scanning security footage for any signs of the freakishly large turtle instead of attending to her much more morally correct job of a veterinarian. When Donnie’s systems finally pinged his location and the brothers had ran in yelling about his mystic energy, she remained as the “woman in the chair” despite every instinct to strap on one of Donnie’s battleshells and join the fight herself. 
She watched through security cameras while she remotely detonated the lab’s systems - reveling in the panic on the scientists faces as they realized that rooms were locked and sirens were growing louder thanks to her call to every station in the area regarding illegal experimentation and unauthorized lab usage. They wouldn’t be able to access the building until she opened the doors, but it was good to rile them up. The building would be going down regardless thanks to April and Casey’s actions to rig the foundations with Purple Dragon grade explosives. She had already evacuated nearby blocks, the only danger was to those that had chosen to imprison and experiment on Donnie and whatever other poor mutants Bishop had gotten his slimy hands on. Unfortunately the only area she wasn’t able to see, much to her and everyone else’s frustration, was the lab that Donnie was being kept in. 
This means that the only thing she sees when the battle ends is Leo and Donnie being carried out by Raph before she loses access to her systems as the cameras explode into a golden light. Whatever Raph had done to that lab had disabled what was hindering their powers then if Mikey was able to begin the detonation process. She hurries to the med bay, keeping her panic tucked away as the blood that had been trailing the trio flickers through her mind. There’s another flash of golden light just as she’s set up the beds and the brothers appear through Mikey’s portal. 
She still doesn’t allow herself to panic as she helps with the surgery, an odd mix of modern medicine and magic keeping the two brothers alive and stable until she steps back and deems it all they can do for the moment. Through numb lips she explains the aftercare and the Hamato’s set up schedules and watches. She should be surprised that she’s included in these, but she also knows that the only way she’s leaving Donnie’s side is if she’s dragged out. Well, after she scrubs their blood from her clothes anyway. She borrows some of Donnie’s while hers are being treated, drawing comfort in the too large hoodie as she sets up post beside Donnie’s bed. 
Leo wakes up first, unsurprising since he hadn’t been locked away for a week in a psychopath's care. Their healing factor has clearly kicked in as within a day Leo is taken off the heavy painkillers and requests to move back to his room. Kendra tries not to be impatient as she routinely checks on the stitches, monitoring for infection between her shifts with Donnie. The brothers regularly switched off with Kendra - barring Leo since he was bed bound - but Kendra insisted on spending as much time as possible with Donnie. He should be waking up soon after all and if she didn’t get to tell that stupid idiot her true feelings she’s going to lose it. 
It’s late on day two when she hears movement, glancing over to see Donnie’s eyes open wide and staring at her uncomprehending. She freezes, staring back and not even daring to blink as she waits for understanding to wash over Donatello’s expression. 
It doesn’t. 
Instead he snarls, lips drawing back to expose sharp teeth and she scrambles to press the call button (more of a localized panic button for the med bay) before Donatello tries to sit up, becoming off balance and falling to his side as he tries to balance with an arm he doesn’t have. “You’ll hurt yourself,” Kendra barks, hands going to help him sit up when he snaps at her arms, then hissing a warning when she doesn’t immediately draw back. She is so not qualified to deal with a hostile mutant turtle who had probably been through an excess of uncertified medical procedures over the past week if his injuries were anything to go by. Thankfully she doesn’t have to worry about her hand being bitten off as Raph and Mikey come running in. 
She backs off, only so that Donnie doesn’t feel overwhelmed and becomes more violent, but remains in eyesight in case he tries to rip out the IV’s. Mikey does disconnect the heart monitor since its high-pitched scream was doing none of them any favors and she could see how quickly Donnie relaxed at the quiet. It still clearly takes a moment for him to recognize where he was and who was around him with his brothers reassurances the only reason he’s willing to settle back onto the bed with a low whine. Kendra steps in, quickly checking fluids and changing out the painkillers since they were low. She can see the concern on both Mikey and Raph’s expressions, but completes everything clinically before returning to her spot at his bedside. 
“You can leave now, I can handle it,” She says only a bit harshly. It was true, she’s sure she can handle whatever reaction Donnie may have now that he’s aware of where he is. She knew the dangers of an unfamiliar face attempting to administer care, but now Donnie could see her and understood why he was hooked up to the various equipment. She had no concerns about her safety. 
“If you’re sure…” Raph says hesitantly, “You know how to get a hold of us.” 
“Yep, now go back to bed, you two are dead on your feet,” Kendra says, trying to be cold but it’s difficult when all she can do is trace the bandages wrapping Donatello’s shell. She hears the brothers leave and heaves a sigh of relief. From the glaze over Donnie’s eyes, she can tell the painkillers have a hold on him but she can't help but slowly reach out to grasp his left hand. 
“I know you’re probably loopy because those are high grade as shit,” She starts quietly, “But if I don’t get this off my chest before you fall asleep again I think I’ll actually lose my mind.” 
Donnie blinks slowly at her. 
“You’re an idiot,” She whispers harshly, “You scared the hell out of us you know? You scared the hell out of me.” She squeezes his hand, feeling him squeeze back before she can force herself to continue. “You know I didn’t even realize it until your brothers called me, but I care about you. I care about you, the guy who humiliated me every chance he could get, the dumb turtle who put a stop to a whole ass alien invasion, and the absolute dickhead who got kidnapped and hurt by an actually crazy scientist and leaving me behind.” 
She doesn’t know when she started crying. 
“You’re really making me say it, Donatello Hamato, but I like you, and if anything - I mean anything - happens to you again? I’m going to kill whoever did it with my bare hands.” 
She’s not sure if Donnie understands, but she can see the corner of his lips quirk slightly before his eyes slip shut and he stills. His breaths become deep with sleep but his hand still remains firmly grasped in Kendra’s. She doesn’t let go until Mikey comes in to take over. 
-------
A week goes by in silence. Not from all of the Hamato’s, Kendra doesn’t think it’d be possible for them to be quiet for more than ten seconds. No. Donatello has not said a single word, or even made a noise of discomfort since he’d first woken up. He rarely even signs, much to the disappointment and worry of his brothers. He doesn’t ask for food or water, although they’re brought to him anyway, and he remains in his room nestled under his blankets and only moves when absolutely necessary. Despondent is the word that immediately springs to Kendra’s mind and she hates it. 
They retain their rotating shifts, although Kendra takes as many of them as she can. The last thing Donnie needs is an interrogation from his family, since it’s clear that he’s still gathering his thoughts over what had happened to him and shows discomfort any time his brothers try to remain alone with him. She justifies her veterinary knowledge, but she can also see Mikey whispering to Raph whenever the older brother looks like he’s going to protest. Thank whatever pizza thing they worship for the younger brother’s empathy. Kendra sets up a cot that Donnie had in his lab and sleeps across the room when she can. 
This is how she knows Donnie’s having a nightmare almost exactly a week after he’d moved back into his room. 
He didn’t sleep very often, fiddling at all hours with some form of tech since he had to avoid screens with his head injury or pretending to sleep as he laid on top of the mattress. Kendra’s relief at his breaths finally evening out is short lived as a few hours after he slipped under she hears him begin to thrash, then cries out in pain as he aggravates the wounds on his shell. She’s out of the cot and onto his bed in seconds, cupping her hands gently onto his face and tapping gently at his cheeks. His eyes snap open and for a moment she wonders if she’s going to lose a finger or two before clarity comes to his vision. For the first time in a week she feels like he recognizes her. 
She finds herself wrapped in an embrace, a surprising development but not one she’s going to take lightly as she feels Donnie trembling against her. She squeezes, not enough to hurt but enough to ground as Donnie’s forehead falls heavy to her shoulder. The two of them sit there, Kendra gently rubbing Donnie’s shell until she feels his breath hitch. 
“He…made a control panel…like the technodrome…” His voice is raspy from disuse and Kendra almost wants to stop him so he could get a drink or something, but she also understands that this is important both for Donatello to say and for her to hear. Regardless of how sick the thought of hearing what caused these wounds makes her feel. 
“Or…tried to…’t was…nothing like her…” 
Kendra recalls the ship that had hovered over New York. She thinks of its size and the terror it struck into its citizens. She couldn’t imagine anyone willingly recreating that, this Bishop Bastard was even worse than she thought. Mikey had told them a bit about how the ship had been controlled - access directly to the nervous system as far as they could tell. One sleepless night Donnie had even described what it had felt like to control the ship, Kendra never forgot the almost melancholic expression on his face as he recalled connecting to it. 
“There was no synergy…just pain…it tried to control…it tried to take…take… take ….” The anguish in Donnie’s voice has Kendra holding him all the tighter, burying her face in his shoulder in the only way she could try to comfort. The words are spilling out of him now, faster and every word sounds worse as he explains in fractured segments what Bishop had done. 
“...I felt violated …it tried to control me even though it was supposed to be controlled. Bishop was furious…he didn’t understand why it wasn���t working…” Donnie let out a broken laugh, “took it out on me…but it was nothing compared to it…nausea got worse…every time I was hooked up to it…”
She can feel him shudder at the memory and she squeezes him the best she can, hoping that the weight of her against him was helping to keep him grounded as he continued talking. 
“He kept upgrading it…and connecting me to it…” He pauses, exhaling hard and coughing a bit as he does so, “It noticed too late when I took control...That’s how I got the signal out. You already know the rest…”
Kendra can feel that he’s done, the way he slumps against her and the ragged breathing as he attempts to reign in his thoughts. She’s never been great at comforting people in the conventional sense, but she has a feeling she can share what she was feeling about the whole situation. 
“What an absolute shithead.” 
She feels him jolt in surprise before he snorts, finally finally returning her hold and tugging her closer to him as he laughs. It’s the best sound  she’s ever heard. 
“Yeah, he really was an absolute dick! A real piece of work, shit from the sewers!” Donnie manages to choke out between chuckles and Kendra can’t help but lean into his laughter. 
“So just to make sure I wasn’t just high on painkillers…you did say you liked me right?” Donnie murmurs after they’d both calmed down enough to lay comfortably on the bed. Donnie doesn’t let Kendra go, drawing comfort in her warmth as she messes absently with his hand. She pressed her palm against his own, twining and untwining their fingers until he spoke - then she abruptly dropped his hand. 
Kendra groans, rolling over to hide her face against the mattress despite their tangled legs keeping her mostly facing Donnie, “Yes, yes unfortunately I did.” 
“What was that? Could you repeat it?” Donnie asks cheekily, laughing again when Kendra lifts her face from the mattress to scowl at him. 
“Yes! I did! Got a problem with it ?” 
Donnie’s face is priceless, shifting from teasing to blushing in a way that makes Kendra smirk victoriously as she gently rubs his arm. 
“I…suppose…I like you too,” Donnie manages to stutter out. 
“You tell anyone I got mushy like that and I’ll strangle you,” Kendra mutters. 
Donnie barks out a laugh, “Wouldn’t dream of it Kendra.” 
Kendra knows deep down that this isn’t over. Bishop was still out there, a destroyed lab surely wouldn’t keep him down for long. For the moment however, she’s going to enjoy Donnie’s warm embrace and do what she can to help him feel safe even if that means tearing down the bastard herself.
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snowdice · 9 days
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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 121]
I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.
My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53
Chapter 54 (Patton)
“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.
“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.
“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”
Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apples’ saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.
With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risking being kicked, had become his de facto tutor.
Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.
Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with his rider.
“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.
“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.
Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”
“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”
Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.
“I hear you’re going to go riding today,” King Thomas said.
Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.
“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.
“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”
“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”
“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”
He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.
“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.
Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”
“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”
“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.
“Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”
Well, that was fair.
“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.
“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”
“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if Virgil let slip he was an assassin somehow.”
“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”
“Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.
Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”
Patton bit his lip.
“What?” Logan asked.
“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.
Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”
“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.
“I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”
Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.
“We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.
Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.
The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now.
Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.
However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.
He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).
Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.
He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.
“But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.
“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.
“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.
“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.
“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”
“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.
“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.
“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.
Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.
“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”
“Why?”
This seemed to stump the king momentarily, but he still answered after thinking for a bit. “Doves existed before people got to them,” the king explained. “People caught and trained some of them, but there was no way to catch all of them. So, some stayed in the wild and continued with their lives like they had been before humans. Plus, sometimes domesticated doves fly off and never come back. Sometimes they might die, but other times they may have just gotten lost and had to build a new life somewhere far away. Or maybe they even decided that being a trained dove working for humans wasn’t for them, so they decided to go off on their own.”
“You let them do that?” Virgil asked.
“We can’t really stop them in the end,” the king said. “People can try, but it never ends up working as long as they can fly.”
Virgil thought about this. “I still don’t understand,” he said, “but okay.”
“We should take you to the cliffs,” the king suggested.
“What are the cliffs?”
“The castle grounds were built for defense,” King Thomas explained. “The edge of the grounds to the North is a large river and overlooking it is a huge cliff. It’s a good place for picnics and for birdwatching. It’s a bit of a trip, but now would be a good time of year to go.”
He glanced over his shoulder back at Logan and Patton. “What do you boys think about going to the cliffs sometime? Maybe in about a week?”
Logan squinted at his father suspiciously. It wasn’t so much the fact that the king was asking them to go to the cliffs. They did that every so often. However, this time, it only supported Logan’s claims that the king was hanging out with them a lot recently.
“Sure,” Logan said, after a moment.
“Sounds fun!” Patton said cheerily right after, trying to cover for the lack of enthusiasm in Logan’s voice with his own. Judging by King Thomas’s expression and Logan’s tight-lipped scowl, he may have overcompensated.
“Great,” the king said. “I’ll” make sure to make arrangements when we get back to the castle.”
Chapter 55 (Logan)
            Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.
            Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.
Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce impressively quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.
“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.
“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.
Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.
The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.
After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.
“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.
“What?” Logan asked.
“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”
“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.
“For what?”
Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”
“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.
Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”
Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think cardamom would work for something like that. Let me go find some.”
He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals.
“Can we use a serrated knife?”
“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.”
“That was certainly my intentions,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning to him and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the coriander.
“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked.
“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than cardamom, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it a lot simpler if it works.”
He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant.
Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well.
Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make.
“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.”
“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.”
“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked.
Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said.
“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked.
“We can’t,” Virgil said.
Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.”
Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.”
“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.”
“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said.
“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown.
“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.”
“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea.
He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well.
“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.”
“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already disappeared before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead.
Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch.
“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care.
“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife.
Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon.
“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.”
“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.”
Logan narrowed his eyes at him.
Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.”
“I would not have,” Logan insisted.
“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked.
Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said.
“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.”
“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.”
Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms.
When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle.
Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked.
“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife.
“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked.
“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said.
“So just start stabbing things?”
Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about.
Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire.
“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished.
“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed.
“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said.
“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan.
He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in flames instantly. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife.
Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well.
“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped.
The armor stand at that very moment decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well.
“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide.
Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!”
The moment Logan’s father fully processed the presence of the flames, he was bursting into the room. He at least remembered that there was a fire extinguishing powder stocked in Logan’s work room even though that fact had slipped Logan’s mind in the chaos. (Perhaps Logan should have thought to set it out when they were testing a fire knife, but Logan would just add that to his growing list of regrets.)
The king managed to put all of the fires out within 30 seconds of poking his head through the door, but the fire left in his eyes when he turned to them afterwards was perhaps more dangerous.
Virgil slowly hid the knife behind his back. It was probably a bit late for that.
“What were the two of you doing in here?” the king asked.
“Nothing,” Logan said. Virgil shot him a look that told Logan what the boy thought about his lying abilities.
Logan’s father put his hands on his hips. “‘Nothing’ set the rug on fire?”
“We may have been doing a small experiment,” Logan said.
“What experiment?” the king asked.
“…I do not wish to say.”
“Logan.”
“Virgil wanted a fire knife.”
“A what?”
Virgil frowned over at Logan. “Your resistance to interrogation techniques is deplorable.”
Father turned to look at Virgil and obviously spotted the fact that Virgil was holding something behind his back.
“Give it here,” Father said, though his tone was a bit gentler with Virgil than it had been with Logan.
Virgil debated it for a moment, but then offered over the knife with a pout on his face. Father gingerly took it and the fire-resistant gloves from him. “Where did the two of you even get this knife?”
“You can’t tell her,” Logan said.
“You stole a knife from the kitchens?!” the king asked.
“We borrowed it,” Logan said.
“Can it be used for cooking anymore?”
“…Well.”
“In the intended manner.”
“No.”
“Then you stole it.”
Logan just frowned and looked away.
“I’m going to go put this in a secure location,” Father said, grimacing at the fire knife in his hands. “No more experiments for you two for a month. I’ll sic Patton on you.”
With that, he picked up what was left of the fire extinguishing powder (just in case) and turned to exit the room.
“Well,” Logan said once he was gone. “That was irresponsible.”
“I could steal it back from him.”
“N-no don’t do that.”
“I definitely could though,” Virgil said.
“I did not hear you say that,” Logan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I am not responsible for any more of your actions in this matter. I am going to the library.”
He walked out of the room then and Virgil followed him to the upstairs library. He said nothing more about the fire knife, but Logan would be a fool to suppose he forgot about it.
Chapter 56 (Thomas)
“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.
The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.
Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.
While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.
It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.
Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.
“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.
“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”
“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”
“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”
Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs.
So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.
His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.
Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.
Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all.
Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile.
“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime.
Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him.
“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat.
“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats.
“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy.
Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well.
In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had actually tried to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights.
Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie.
Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle.
“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle.
Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.”
“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.”
“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to.
“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed.
“She’s a Princess.”
“She is not a princess!”
Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior at this point. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument.
“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.”
“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.”
And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy on the ground, it did almost look like a fight between siblings.
Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child.
He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand.
“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly.
Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously.
Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was.
“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked.
“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.”
Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently scoot all of the cats out of his lap. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclined to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet and they continued on their way towards the stables.
The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in saddles, though the stable hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest.
The stable hand seemed as happy to hand Mr. Apples over to Virgil as Virgil was to have Mr. Apples handed over to him. Thomas received Bella with a smile and Logan and Patton got their own horses as well.
The Cliffs were about half an hour's ride from the main castle. There was a mostly well-maintained path to it, though it was easy to get lost if one didn’t know the way. Mr. Apples knew the way perhaps better than Thomas himself and seemed annoyed by the fact that Thomas was trying to lead the way.
Virgil and Thomas ended up side-by-side whenever the path allowed it to placate him.
He still marveled at how willing Mr. Apples was to let Virgil ride him, especially when he tossed his head in Thomas’s direction, a horse’s equivalent of giving Thomas a stink-eye.
“Are you excited for the picnic?” Thomas asked the boy beside him.
Virgil glanced over at him and nodded.
“I am too,” Thomas said. “It’s always beautiful this time of year. I’m glad I could find the time to take you all there this year.”
“Are you very busy?” Virgil asked curiously.
“I am king,” Thomas reminded, “and now that the world isn’t snowed in anymore things will be busy.”
“With the war?” Virgil asked.
Thomas paused for a few seconds. “Yes,” he confirmed. “With the war, but you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Virgil asked.
“You’re just a kid,” Thomas said.
“I’m 14,” Virgil said.
Thomas glanced at him. “Exactly,” he said, “a kid, and luckily, you’re in a place that can afford you the luxury of being one.”
“What do you mean?”
“The war has been mainly fought on Mocnejsi soil in recent years. Our boarders have held strong against invasions. Unless something goes horribly wrong suddenly, it would take a long time for the main conflict to get here. The only real threat in the castle would be assassins sent after me personally.”
“Right,” Virgil said. There was an awkward pause in conversation before he spoke again. “You’re winning the war then?” he asked.
“Something could always happen,” Thomas said, “but for the most part, yes, we have quite the advantage right now.”
“Oh,” Virgil said.
Thomas shook his head as they were coming up to a narrowing of the path. “Anyway, today is a day to not think about war. Today we’re going to have a lovely picnic and do some bird watching.”
“Right,” Virgil agreed from behind Thomas as Bella took the lead (to Mr. Apples discontent.)
When the path widened again, Thomas did his best to direct the topic to lighter subjects and soon they made it to The Cliffs.
Chapter 57 (Virgil)
Virgil had never been to a picnic. At least, that’s what Patton had informed him when Virgil had described his past experiences of eating outdoors. Logan had agreed even though he’d admitted that the definition of “picnic” was only eating a pre-packaged meal outdoors which Virgil had done plenty of times.
From what Virgil could tell, the main difference was just how much stuff one brought to a picnic.
In addition to the basket full of food (that Virgil still hadn’t gotten to look in yet), the king had brought a large soft quilt that he had Logan and Virgil spread out on the ground for them all to sit on.
Patton and Logan had also packed some things themselves to bring along. Logan had brought along a book to read, and Patton had brought along a board game (thankfully not checkers but something Virgil did not recognize). Virgil hadn’t brought anything (except for the fire knife he was definitely not supposed to have and was definitely not letting the king see) because he hadn’t known he was supposed to bring things. He wouldn’t have known what to bring anyway.
The blanket was soft and a much better alternative to sitting on the ground, especially because, while there was grass at the top of The Cliffs, there were also a good number of rocks.
The king set the picnic basket in the middle of the blanket once it was spread out and then lowered himself down to sit on one side. Patton quickly followed him, already fiddling with some of his board game pieces, though he wasn’t setting it up yet. Virgil highly doubted that Logan was going to be allowed to read his book unless Patton eventually got bored of the game.
However, they would, hopefully, be allowed to make use of the basket the king had brought along.
Virgil followed the king and Patton’s lead and got to his knees on the blanket across the picnic basket from the king. He peered at the basket curiously.
He didn’t quite know what picnic food was, but Patton had told them they’d be getting ‘picnic food’ and he was very curious about what that meant.
King Thomas smiled at him. “Let’s see what Patton’s mom packed us, huh?” He reached for the basket and flipped it open as Logan sat next to Virgil. “There is a lot more food than usual in here,” the king said, sounding amused. “Let’s see.”
He began to pull out packaged food and glanced in each package to identify it before setting it out.
“We have a few types of mini sandwiches,” he said, putting them down, “and some pasta salad.” He set down the bowl.
“We also have… er something else.” He showed it to Logan.
“They’re hot cauliflower bites,” Logan said instantly upon seeing them. Virgil perked up in excitement. That was one of his favorite foods.
“Ah,” King Thomas said, but shrugged and set it down. “We also have two desserts apparently: cookies and mini apple pies. That last one’s a bit extra for a picnic.”
“They’re very good,” Virgil said happily.
“And we also have.” King Thomas paused, looking confused. “Chicken alfredo?”
“Yes!” Virgil said.
“Why do we have chicken alfredo for a picnic?”
“It’s a Virgil picnic,” Logan groaned. “She packed us a Virgil picnic.”
“Hey, at least momma sent us something too,” Patton said.
“I think I’ll stick to sandwiches for today,” King Thomas said. He looked at Patton and Logan. “Do either of you want…?”
“No,” Logan said. Patton shook his head.
The king nodded and offered the entire covered bowl of chicken alfredo to Virgil. “Here, this one’s yours,” he said.
“Really?” Virgil asked tentatively. It wasn’t exactly strange for people here to offer him food, and he’d expected and anticipated getting to eat on this venture, but the king of the country offering him an entire bowl of his favorite food was something else.
“It’s not really my idea of a picnic food and you seem excited for it,” King Thomas said with a warm smile, still holding it out.
Virgil took it reverently. Despite the time it had taken to get to the cliffs, the bottom of the container was still warm. Virgil assumed it was one of the heating spells the kitchen sometimes used.
“Thanks,” Virgil said, setting it in his lap.
“Of course, Virgil,” the king said.
The bowl was enough for four people to have a little bit, but for one person it was a lot. Still, Virgil was offered a little of every other food in the picnic basket (and he ate a good number of the hot cauliflower bites).
“Where do you put all of that?” the king asked when Virgil finished polishing off the chicken alfredo bowl.
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straylightdream · 2 years
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𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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full stray kids list
feedback and reblog with tags are greatly appreciate when you read one of my fics!
@straylightdream — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any fic, reaction, or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.
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contains smut: ♡
connecting series
ssfw - college au
ilysb (i’m gonna love you) - coming soon
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between the lines ♡
arranged marriage au
↳ After being used a nothing more then a pawn to gain the upper hand on Chan. They’re left in a strained marriage and only one way out.
outta my head ♡
neighbors au / fuckboy chan
↳ He’s a lives next door and is someone who sleeps around often. You’re a nurse who is struggling to get enough sleep because of his night time activities.
illicit affair ♡
modern royal au / star-crossed lovers
↳ He was Prince and soon to be King, and she was his a royal assistant who looked after him. Thing between them have changed as they cross a line that they probably shouldn’t of crossed.
somebody else ♡
featuring: bang chan x f.reader, lee know x f.reader
friends to lovers au
↳  She loved him more then anything or anyone in all the galaxy. From the moment they met he was suddenly her everything.
give yourself a try ♡
fake dating au
↳ She had to attend her estrange fathers wedding, and didn’t want to go alone. Chan offers to go as her fake boyfriend so she doesn’t have to face the wedding alone.
where were you ♡
exes to lovers / fuckboy chan
↳  They were high school sweethearts and Chan let his ego get the best of him. He her high and dry without a second thought.
golden hour ♡
featuring: bang chan x f.reader x hwang hyunjin
↳  The three of them had fallen into a habit for sharing a bed and cuddling. What happens when feelings get involved?
almost losing you ♡
monster hunter au
↳ Loving him was never easy and you wished that someone else could of stolen your heart. Someone who is wasn’t too afraid of breaking your heart.
about last night ♡
↳ you have been playing a game of cat and mouse for too long. Things come to head when you dance with someone while he watches.
i think I like you ♡ (ssfw)
friends to lover, mutual pining, college au
↳ I’ll be right here waiting for us.
not in the same way ♡
friends with benefits
↳ things get messy with feelings get involved with casual sex.
I wanna be yours ♡
roommates / friends to lovers / blind date
↳ “If you keep pacing you’re going to burn a hole in the title,” Minho said standing in the doorway.
Stopping in your tracks you looked up at Minho with wide eyes, “is it too late to cancel?”
crying over you
established relationship
↳ even after a bad fight he’ll still come to you to protect you during a thunderstorm.
its not living
friends to lovers
↳ after years of being friends you talk about what the future holds for you.
champagne & wax ♡
↳ after two years together you decide to spice things up.
death by a thousand cuts ♡ (my lover)
↳  one bad fight leads to you breaking up. What happens when you can’t stay away from the one person you truly love.
run to you ♡
friends to lovers
↳ after running away from an abusive ex there is only one person you know you’ll truly feel safe with. 
what am I missing? ♡
feat: 3racha
↳ in your mid to late twenties you’re left wondering if you missed your sexual awakening. With a the help of friends you start to really find yourself.
rose-colored boy ♡
↳ Life never goes as planned, when you were younger you always imagined as reaches your mid twenties you would be married with kids. Instead you’re stuck at home helping take care of your sick grandmother and still desperately searching for her fathers approval. The only thing in your life that makes you feel normal is Chan.
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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬
be my mistake ♡
featuring: bang chan x f.reader, changbin x f.reader
roommate / friends to lovers au
status: 40% done
↳ It started out as a simple crush and led to so much more. Unexpected feelings come to a head when when you learn you mean so much more to your roommates then you ever expected
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mystique-6 · 3 months
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Kinktober Day 11: Blindfold
Summary: Astarion introduces the blindfold into their sex life. A good time is had by both.
Hello! My hyperfixation on Astarion has got me in the writing mood so I will be participating in Kinktober using @flightlessangelwings Kinktober list. The pieces may be part of a bigger fic(s). I have started the fic. If you like these pieces in this series, please consider checking out my main fic, This is Me Trying. (Can you tell I like Taylor Swift?) Either way, I hope you enjoy. I do plan on completing the 31 prompts though it will take me past October. I also have the fic posted on AO3.
Warning: Anyone under 18 do not interact. Please pay attention to the tag warnings below.
Tags: Blindfold, Restraints, Light Bondage, Light Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Light Dom/Sub, Oral Sex (female receiving), Nipple play, Penis in Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, Humiliation, Degradation Kink, Begging
**Everything is Safe, Sane, and Consensual**
Additional Notes: This fic involves Spawn Astarion.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from BG3.
            Ailis and Astarion both stumbled through the door of the abandoned building of the Last Light Inn.  Neither noticed as they continued to kiss each other ravenously.  Astarion walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed and she fell backwards onto it.  He followed her, not even giving her a chance to compose herself.  He began to trail kisses down her throat.  He pulled the collar of her shirt aside to reach her collar bone and sucked on her skin there.  She gasped in pleasure as he left mark after mark, but felt a spark of annoyance when he tugged harder at her collar, trying to gain access to her breasts.
            “Astarion, stop,” she complained.  “Let me just take it off.”  He sat up to give her room to do so.
            “Sorry, darling,” he purred, watching her lustfully as she peeled her shirt and undergarment off.
            “Happy now?” she asked teasingly, arching her back a little as she leaned on her elbows to put her breasts on display.
            “Very,” he said, but made no move to continue.  She pouted.
            “Don’t tell me you’ve lost the mood,” she whined and then felt bad.  She knew he had difficulty with intimacy sometimes.  He hadn’t appeared to be disassociating, but sometimes he hid it well.  “It’s okay if you did.  We can just…”  He cut her off with a kiss.
            “I haven’t lost the mood,” he replied with a smile.  “I just wat to try something.  I was wondering how to bring it up.”  She smiled lasciviously at him, and leaned up for another kiss.  He happily returned it and she rolled him over so he was on his back and she straddled his waist.
            “Just ask me,” she murmured softly, tugging gently at an errant, white curl.
            “How do you feel about being tied up…”
            “I’m fine with that as long as you use the silk rope,” she said eagerly.  He gave her an amused smile.
            “And what about being blindfolded?” he asked.  “Are you okay with that?”  She blinked in surprise and shifted off him so she could lie by his side.  He turned to face her, brushing a strand of black-brown hair from her face.
            “Will you take it off if it doesn’t go over well?” she asked.  “I’ve done blindfolds before, but it was a long time ago.  Before…well, before things happened.”
            “If you don’t like it, I will take it off immediately,” Astarion assured her.  She thought about it for another moment and then nodded.
            “Okay.  We can try it,” she agreed and then leaned in for another kiss.  Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist and then maneuvered her to the other side of the bed.  He then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a strip of black fabric.  He held it out for her to inspect for a moment, and then, when she nodded, gently placed it over her eyes and tied the ends of the fabric together behind her head.
            “Can you see anything?” he asked.
            “No,” she said after a moment.  “There’s not even light getting through.”
            “Are you all right?” he asked.  “Do you want to continue?”
            “Yes.  I don’t think this is going to be a problem,” she said.  She was only feeling anticipation.  The fabric wasn’t triggering any memories of being pushed up against a dirt wall, even though her vision was just as impeded.
            “Let me know if it does,” he told her.  “Now, hold out your arms.”  She smiled at the firm tone in his voice and did as he asked, holding both out in front of herself.  He moved her arms and tied her wrists together with the silk rope they’d bought.  He then tied the other end to a bedpost.  She went to give an experimental tug and raised her eyebrows when she felt almost no resistance.
            “There’s not a lot of restriction in the rope, Astarion,” she said.
            “Good,” he replied.  “I want to be able to maneuver you.”  She snorted.
            “So, you intend on man-handling me?” she replied.
            “Darling, I intend on doing whatever I want to you,” he purred.  She opened her mouth to quip back, but he captured her with a kiss.  He then nipped and kissed his way down her throat before sucking a nipple into his mouth.  She keened and arched her back, pushing her breast further into his mouth.  The loss of her sight made her other senses stronger.  The nerves in the breast he was administrating to were on fire and she could feel the ache in the other as her nipple peaked.  She could feel absolutely everywhere he touched her, and she could hear him suckling her too.  Every moan from him sent heat down between her legs and she started to buck her hips up, looking for friction.
            She felt him smiled around her breast and the he released it before latching on to the other.  One of his hands traced idle designs along her hip, but he made no move to touch her where she wanted him.  His mouth left her breast and trailed sloppy, wet kisses down her abdomen.  He then quickly tore off her pants and undergarment before he ran his tongue along the seam where thigh met hip and then bit gently at her hip, not breaking the skin.  He never broke the skin.  Usually, she was relieved he stuck to that agreement, but she felt disappointed today.  She opened her mouth to ask him to bite her, but stopped herself at the last moment, biting her lip.  That was a line she wasn’t ready or even willing to cross.
            “What is it, darling?  I can see you want to ask for something,” he purred and her heart skipped a beat.  She quickly put a firm brake on her tadpole so it couldn’t expose her lie.
            “I want you to touch me,” she insisted.  His hand ran up and down her right thigh.
            “I am touching you,” he said tickling the back of her knee.
            “You know where I mean,” she replied through a giggle.
            “I’m afraid I don’t.  You’ll have to be more specific,” he teased.  “Do you mean here?”  He danced his fingers against her calf.
            “No,” she said, smiling.
            “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully.  “What about here?”  She screamed with laughter as he began to tickle her feet.  She squirmed and thrashed on the bed, trying to pull her feet away from him, but he followed persistently.
            “No!  No!  Not there!” she cried.  “Please stop!  Please!”  He immediately moved his hand back up to her calf and pulled her leg away from the other.  She felt air on her exposed mound.
            “What about here?” he asked softly, blowing on her clit.
            “Yes.  There,” she confirmed and then jumped in shock when his hand spanked her pussy sharply.  She gasped, but he didn’t give her time to say anything as his hand came down on her again in three rapid successions.  She whimpered and his hand moved to stroke her waist gently.  She jumped when his other hand stroked her left hip.  Every touch felt so intense when she couldn’t see them coming.  She enjoyed the feel of his silky skin gliding gently over her body and then gasped at the sharp pain wherever he hit her; her breasts, her thighs, her cunt.  The burn left by the harsh treatment never seemed to fade when touch was the main sensation she could focus on. 
            Suddenly, he rolled her over onto her stomach and raised her hips in the air until she was on her knees.  Now she understood why he’d kept the rope so loose.  She jumped when he his stroked her rear and she swore she could hear him smirk.  He nipped her left cheek and then soothed the sting with his tongue.  His hand slid soothingly up her back before a sharp smack landed on the back of her thigh and she moaned.
            “Enjoying yourself, darling?” he asked amused. 
            “Touch me,” she ordered impatiently, raising her ass higher in the air, trying to entice him.  He landed a harsh slap on her right cheek and she gasped.
            “You’re being awfully demanding,” he teased.  “I’m the one in charge tonight.”
            “Touch me,” she demanded again and received three more forceful slaps in the exact same spot.  She whined and thrust her hips back towards him.  “Please.”  He snorted.
            “You want me to spank you, don’t you?” he said.  “I could.  I could spank you until every inch of your ass is bright red and feels like it’s on fire.  I could make it so you can’t sit down for a week.  Two weeks even.  Would you like me to do that to you?”
            “Please,” she begged again and then cried out when his hand slapped her so forcefully it stunned her.
            “Too bad,” he said.  “That is not what I have planned tonight,” he said and then pulled her legs further apart and lied down between them.  She cried out again when his tongue parted her folds and he began to lap at her cunt.  She thrust down onto his face, but his hands gripped her hips tightly and held her still, before they moved to her ass and squeezed, his nails digging into the abused skin.  The message was clear.  He was in charge of what she received tonight.  She whined and moaned as he slowly and thoroughly ate her out.  She felt her climax building and her thighs began to shake.  Then, just as she was about to spill over the edge, he stopped.
            “No!” she cried, gasping.  “No.  Please!  I want to cum.”
            “You’ll cum,” he told her.  “But only when I let you.”  She whined and he lowered her hips until she laid flat on the mattress.  She heard the shuffling of clothes beside her and knew he was finally removing his own apparel.  He stamped a kiss at her tailbone and then kissed his way up her spine to her neck.  He used his knee to push her thighs apart and then he slid into her soaked and needy cunt.  He moved in slowly…agonizingly slowly.  She could feel every inch of him sliding into her.  She felt one of his arms extend past her head and then felt him untie the rope from her wrists.  He didn’t give her freedom to use her arms, however.  He pinned her hands with his own on either side of her head.  He pulled back out slowly and then moved back in at the same glacial pace.
            “Faster,” she urged.
            “You’re in no position to be making demands,” he said sternly as he pulled out again.  She whined and begged as he continued at the same torturously slow pace. 
            “Please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease,” she gasped out as he moved.  He clucked his tongue.
            “What shameless behavior, Ailis,” Astarion admonished.  “You should be embarrassed.  You should be happy to accept whatever I give you.”  She whimpered and a tear leaked from behind the blindfold down her cheek.  He kissed it away.
            “Please, Astarion.  Please,” she begged.
            “Oh, all right,” he sighed, and his next thrust was much harder.  He let go of her left hand to play with her breast as he picked up his pace.  He rolled the nipple each time he thrust into her.  She felt her release building again and went to touch herself with her free hand, but he reclaimed it and pinned it with his own again.  She cried in protest.
            “You cum from this alone or you don’t cum at all, Ailis,” he said.
            “NO!  Please,” she sobbed.  His pace increased and she could tell he wouldn’t last much longer.  She tried to grind into the sheets but she couldn’t get enough friction.  “Astarion, please.  Please!  I can’t cum like this!  Please!  I need you to touch me.  Please!”  She expected him to ignore her, but his hand left hers and moved under her.  His fingers brushed her clit once, twice, and then she screamed as she went over the edge.
            When she regained her thoughts, she slowly blinked open her eyes and was surprised to find the blindfold had been removed.  She was laying on her side and Astarion had his arms around her, holding her close to his chest.  She smiled at him and cuddled closer, the fingers of her left-hand curling over his shoulder to hold him closer.  He brushed his hand through her hair and kissed her forehead.
            “How are you feeling?” he asked.
            “Never better,” she replied through a yawn and she felt him smile against her forehead.
            “Are you sure?  I didn’t go too far?  I was…well, we didn’t discuss some things.  Was I too mean?” he asked, fussing over her.  She forced herself to pull away a little so she could look him in the eyes.
            “No.  I had fun,” she assured him.  “I like it when you’re bossy.”  A wicked smile crossed his face and she knew she shouldn’t have admitted that.  She gave him a stern stare.  “Only sometimes, Astarion.  I wouldn’t try that out of the bedroom.”  He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose.  He stroked her back soothingly and she started to slip back under but she noticed he looked a little guilty.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?”
            “I think I went too far, Ailis,” he said.
            “You didn’t.  I said I liked it,” she soothed.
            “No.  I mean…I think I hit you too hard,” he replied.  She frowned.
            “You didn’t, Astarion,” she said.  “I liked everything you did to me.”
            “Ailis, you have a hand print on your ass,” he told her.  She immediately tried to crane her head over her shoulder to see, but she couldn’t.  She moved her hand back to her ass and hissed when her fingers touched a warm, raised patch of skin.  She could feel it had raised into a welt in some places and it even felt hot to the touch. 
            “Ouch,” she replied, a little shocked and then she laughed.  Astarion looked surprised for a moment and then he laughed too. 
            “I’m sorry, darling,” he said after a moment when they’d both stopped laughing.
            “It’s okay,” she said.  “I like having your marks on me.”  He groaned and buried his face in her shoulder for a moment before looking back at her face.
            “Let me grab a healing potion for you,” he said and started to get up but she wrapped her limbs around him and held him to her.
            “No,” she said.  “I want to feel it.”
            “Ailis…”
            “Please,” she insisted and he sighed. 
            “All right,” he relented.  “But you’re the one who’s explaining to the others why you can’t sit down tomorrow.”  She smiled and burrowed further against his chest.  His arms came back around her and began stroking her back.  She fell asleep in the safe haven of his arms. 
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weirdgirl92 · 2 months
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LunaDude1996 just keeps showing more of his true colors…
I could’ve just continued to block and delete these messages of his, but I’m sorry, I’ve just GOT to break down this one message in particular, because it reveals so much!
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“If I were in the Cuphead fandom, I’d defend with as much force as possible.”
Ah, but see, unlike you, our ways of defending our faves in the Cuphead fandom don’t involve things like stalking, doxxing, rape threats, or death threats. Your definition of “defending” is NOT the same as ours.
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“All he accomplished is letting any and all XY/Serena/AmourShipping fans win the wars.”
You mean the wars that YOU, and other toxic fans who behaved like you all started? And don’t you dare drag someone as nice as Pokenoire into your petty shipping drama! He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want people tagging him in these kind of posts!
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“Glad to be a psycho against my own will”
You didn’t become a psycho against your will, you CHOSE to become a psycho because you’re a grown ass man who’s very much capable of making his own stupid decisions. Britt never forced you to read her anti-amourshipping posts in 2016, you actively CHOSE to seek out those posts yourself, and continue to do the same thing with ours all these years later (because you’re an obsessed freak with a victim complex).
“…and Idc if they’re teenage girls or not. The only thing I’m glad for you is admitting that I will never change, as I told skytroops back in 2021”
You said it, not me. :/
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“This is what happens when you don’t let me enjoy this scene for 8 fucking years.”
Again, no one was forcing you to read our anti-amourshipping posts. You actively CHOOSE to seek out our posts, then proceed to get mad about it.
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“Spoken from someone who’s not only an imbecile but also clearly has no idea how to enjoy shit in peace.”
You mean an imbecile like you? Because as far as I’m aware doxxing, stalking, and harassing minors over fiction is NOT the same thing as “enjoying shit in peace”.
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“Children deserve to have their shit taken away from them. In spite of that, adults and teens who have internet are the true fans”
Hey, moron! You do know that teens are ALSO children, right? Like the ones that you’ve bullied and stalked for the past 8 years, because you couldn’t handle them not having the same exact Pokémon related opinions as you? Children and teens all deserve a safe space from toxic adults like you. You’re not the main character!
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hippolotamus · 9 months
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Seven Sentence Sunday 🥂
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tagged by @weewootruck @eddiebabygirldiaz (definitely go check their snippets!)
Still in the rework phase. Please take this snippet of come close (let me be home) (prev snippets here) under the cut for the sake of your dash 😘
“I know it’s tough, kid. I’m sure this isn’t easy for you,” Bobby says, leading them through the crowd to a table near the back. “Athena won’t steer her wrong, though.” “I don’t doubt it, Lor- Bobby. I just didn’t think it would be this difficult, honestly. I want her to be happy, but–” “You want to keep her safe.”  “Exactly!” Evan accepts a champagne flute, noticing Bobby takes a lemonade for himself. “I guess I always felt like I had no say before, even though I knew Lord Kendall was a terrible choice. It’s difficult not to want to be more involved this time.” “That’s understandable. Commendable even.” Bobby pauses to take a sip of his drink before cryptically adding, “Sometimes no matter how much we try to protect the people we love, it’s never enough.”  Evan thinks there might be a story there, but doesn’t press for more information. He’s not going to ruin any trust being built by prying into his host’s past. He also tries not to think too hard about how true Bobby’s statement has been in his own life. Instead he shifts his focus back to where Maddie is talking with Athena, smiling at all the right times and looking like she’s genuinely enjoying herself. He walks with Bobby to rejoin their small group, handing a glass to Maddie.  “Anyone promising?” He asks, when suddenly a familiar face catches his eye across the room. It’s the man from the park, surrounded by a mob of enthusiastic socialites not so subtly shoving their dance cards at him.   “I know him,” Evan murmurs without thinking.  “Viscount Diaz?” Bobby questions.  Athena cuts in before Evan can answer. “I didn’t realize you had met. I know I certainly didn’t make the introduction. Bobby, did you?” “Not that I recall, my love.” “I, uh-” Evan gulps down the last of his champagne, feeling his cheeks flush. Apparently his etiquette has slipped his mind, causing him to forget how important it is that any introductions are made through Athena or Bobby. “I must be mistaken then.”  “He is handsome,” Maddie whispers, leaning in close.  “Y-yes, I suppose he is,” Evan mumbles, feeling his cheeks flush.  His sister’s observation isn’t wrong. Still, something about her acknowledging the obvious fact, coupled with the man – Viscount Diaz – being here at all doesn’t sit right under his skin.  “Your sister could do much worse than the Viscount,” Athena comments, looking quite pleased with herself. “He’s an honorable man with plenty of land and income. I daresay he would make an admirable choice. In fact, I’m not sure why I didn’t consider it before.”  “May I have this dance?” A gentleman – thankfully not the Marquis or the Viscount – approaches Maddie, extending his hand. He’s of average height and build with mousy brown hair and a forgettable face. As far as Evan can tell there is absolutely nothing noteworthy about him. Nevertheless, Maddie smiles and accepts his hand, letting him lead her to the floor as the music begins.
so many of you have recently posted so absolutely no pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @stereopticons @elvensorceress @disasterbuckdiaz LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @vanillahigh00 @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @apothecarose @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @callmenewbie @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @jamespearce9-1-1 @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @lemonzestywrites @thewolvesof1998 @steadfastsaturnsrings @loserdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @eowon @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @spagheddiediaz @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @buddierights @911onabc @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @gayedmundodiaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @maygrantgf @statueinthestone @indestructibleheart and anyone else who wants to share 💖
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aziraphales-library · 5 months
Note
Hi! Do you have any 1941 fics that involve the aftermath of Crowley's feet being burned? The only one I can find is based on Oopsie Omens (I feel your lips kissing my feet by IneffableDoll). Thank you so much!
Hey. We have some feet washing fics here on our #post church scene tag. Here are a few more to add...
Your Lightning Lit Up the World by Suvroc (G)
After the Blitz, the 'lift home' missing scene - Aziraphale's introduction to and first ride in the Bentley go about as well as could be expected, and he’s left shaken (by that, and other revelations) to his very core. At the bookshop, he finds out Crowley’s foxtrot over consecrated ground has not left him unscathed. Even with unresolved issues, can they possibly find a safe way forward after years apart? Of course they can, as long as they address absolutely nothing directly.
Let Me Keep You(r Feet) Warm by AnonymousDandelion (G)
He doesn’t usually miracle clothing from raw firmament. Moral standards, he always told Crowley, who used to tease him relentlessly about it. Doing so would be a frivolous miracle, and besides, he’s always preferred the feel of human-made handiwork for his own attire. For Crowley, though, Aziraphale will make an exception to his usual rules. He pulls the formlessly metaphysical stuff of firmament together into physicality, molding it with mind and will and heart — he does not usually find creation to be such an act of emotional dedication and intimacy, but this time it somehow feels like it — and when he is finished, he has a pair of soft, smooth, warm black socks in his hands, tailored to fit the feet stretched before him, the fabric interwoven with a layer of care and protectiveness unrelated to the physical material of which it is made. ~ ~ ~ OR: How many feels can fit into one pair of socks? (Answer: A decent many.)
If They Only Knew by wahoo_shem (G)
Post Church Scene. Aziraphale invites Crowley into the bookshop to tend to his feet. And ask him a question. (Made for the Jukebox Omens Event before Season 2. You know, the era where we all gave them a romantic night in the bookshop only to find out those goobers were off doing miracle free magic in front of Nazi Zombies)
The Scars We Cannot Heal by letmetemptyou19 (T)
"I’m not Beelzebub, Crowley. You shouldn’t have to endure the pain in private or pretend it isn’t there. Please, let me care for you,” Aziraphale pleaded, sinking down to sit on the floor next to the sofa. He tentatively removed the demon’s glasses and looked at him meaningfully. Crowley was surprised to see Aziraphale’s own eyes sparkling with tears as well. “I want to take care of you.” Crowley pushed himself up into a sitting position and grit his teeth as he his kicked off his shoes. Aziraphale blinked at him. “Well, go ahead. Take care of me.” ----- In which Aziraphale takes care of Crowley after his feet are burned in the Church/Blitz Scene. Crowley's wounds are not the only scars to be confronted in the soft light of the bookshop. Lots of angst and ineffable pining.
Dream a Little Dream by Lady of Prompts (T)
Aziraphale rarely dreamed. He didn’t sleep, so that already made it exceedingly unlikely. But sometimes – when his mood struck him just so – his mind would start to drift, and he experienced what humans called daydreaming. And he always dreamed about one specific demon. Who, unknown to Aziraphale, would dream of him back...
And the one you mentioned...
I feel your lips kissing my feet by IneffableDoll (T)
Azazel worries Jophiel has frostbite after walking across cursed ground and invites him back to the bookshop to look after him. (AKA I give this comic the pre-season 2, post-1941 treatment we all deserve.) A(nother) fanfic for paaminty(asleepyy)’s Reverse AU comic, Oopsie!Omens.
- Mod D
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clarifying something in regards to my trigun meta, because i’m realizing finally why people get so tetchy with me about it.
tl;dr: can i please talk about canon events of consent violation as an entirely separate conversation from the fandom concept of a ship? i’m talking about what is, not what if.
cw: trigun spoilers, rape, incest. you know the drill.
also, because i made this mistake once before: if you use or interpret this post as some kind of tirade against kv shippers, or get morally righteous about icky fetishists in my notes: fuck off, you do not speak for me, i hate you, and this is exactly why we need to be able to separate analysis and shipping.
moving on.
okay but. people do understand. that rape is not necessarily about attraction or even about sex, right?
when i talk about the scenes i describe as sexual assault in trigun, i’m not saying that it means knives/vash is canon. i’m saying that there’s a deliberate construction to the narrative that makes knives’ violation of his siblings’ consent a driving force of the plot and what eventually screws him over.
i know this is a “yelling in the library and expecting not to be shushed” situation. you can’t take a piss in fandom without someone asking if you have a fetish.
but i really think we can stand to at least not keep putting square pegs in round holes, here.
yes, i know, you tag non-con with a slash too. but i’m not talking about shipping when i talk about knives violating the consent of vash and his sisters. those are two different modes of engaging with consent violation and relationships that involve it.
attraction and desire can be motives behind assault. but it’s not the only or even the most driving motivation. assault — violation of consent — is about power. having and exercising power over another. regardless of that’s to satisfy a personal desire or to force them to comply or just to hurt them.
(this is the same reason that using “pedophilia” as the catch-all it’s currently used as is rather than its actual definition is Fucking Stupid, but i digress)
when i discuss the metaphysical acts i refer to as analogous to rape, i am not saying that knives’ actions and his treatment of vash are driven by attraction (exclusively — that’s a conversation for another post) or that he fuses with his sisters to have an incestuous genocide orgy.
i’m saying that it’s extremely telling how knives treats his siblings, the acts of domination over them and the violation of their consent, their bodily autonomy, and their willpower, when his stated goal is to prevent humans from doing the same.
knives believes in power. that’s the only thing he believes in. and fundamentally, that’s why his attempts to “help” the dependent plants results in far more harm than good, and ultimately in failure.
he doesn’t understand freedom. he understands power. so for plants to be safe, in his eyes, there can be no humans that could hold power over them — the only one with the right to overpower them is him.
in vash’s case, the line blurs — vash is almost a whole, real person to him. he wants his cooperation, wants his company, he does desire him, in one way or another. but if vash won’t listen to him, won’t comply, won’t cede, won’t indulge in power for power’s sake [july incident, trimax] there’s no choice but to overpower him. consume him.
and the other reason i describe these events as assault, as rape — they are not just violations, not just acts of control. they have consequences. knives takes power from his siblings. keeps it, hoards it, so they have no way to challenge him. he literally consumes [trimax] and warps [stampede] his sisters’ bodies and destroys their homes. they cannot go back what they were before he raped them. and neither can vash — knives’ actions, nearly all of them, are designed to isolate vash. to make him terrified of his own body. to keep him from reaching out to humans. to give him nowhere to run but back to knives, knives who will stop hurting him, stop him from being hurt, if he’d just listen.
does knives love his siblings? yes. but when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. and when all you have are knives… well.
shipping is a what if. this is just what is.
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msfcatlover · 1 year
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Yet more Reverse!Robins
EDIT: Now on AO3.
(Calling back to my tags on this post, and one of the images from this one that live rent free in my brain.)
Joker gets bored torturing Jason on his own after a couple days, and sends out invites to all the other rogues (or at least, the ones he’s pretty sure won’t rat him out and end the fun) about a “surprise present” he’s working on for Batman. Steph has absolutely no interest involving herself in Joker’s nonsense, so she immediately throws it out and focuses on securing her area of the city to keep her people safe. She doesn’t think much more of it.
Six days later, Tim shows up at the door of one of her clubs. Not in costume, barely hiding his identity, hardly even armed (like, the bare minimum for walking around this part of town this late at night, and most of that is artfully hidden in his crutches & leg braces.) Aside from Damian or Bruce crashing the party to accuse Steph of stuff (that like 60% of the time she didn’t even do,) none of the Bats have ever approached Steph in an actual place of business before. She’s curious. She tells security to let him in, and show him to her table.
“Mr. Wayne,” Steph says, because fuck it, if Tim’s only going to mess up his hair and barely slap some concealer over the dark circles under his eyes, she isn’t gonna maintain his identity for him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Tim shakes her hand, looks her dead in the eye, never glancing at her guards or flinching at his name. A proper little businessman, in a ratty band t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. “I need a favor.”
“You? Need a favor from me?”
“Yes.”
“The great Timothy Wayne?”
“I didn’t come here to play games.” Tim glares. “Yes, I need your help. Yes, it has to be you. Yes, I am out of other options. No, I am not above groveling—”
“Really?”
“Steph.”
“Don’t,” she growls back, “try to play this like we’re friends, Tim.”
Tim crosses his arms and scowls off to the side. “…Fine. We’ll keep it professional.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you on your knees.” Tim’s eye twitches as Steph takes a sip of her drink. “What brings you to my humble abode?”
“I told you, need a favor,” Tim repeats.
“Well, that could be anything,” Steph says, rolling her eyes behind her mask.
“My little brother’s missing.”
Steph’s drink goes down the wrong way. She forces herself to swallow her cough. Steph clears her throat to mask it, and sets her drink back on the table.
Tim continues like he didn’t notice. “The police can’t find him. The Bats can’t find him. I have been leveraging every advantage I’ve got, but nobody has seen him in over a week—”
Ice slips down Steph’s spine as she remembers the invitation she’d thrown out right around a week ago.
“—but you have contacts they don’t.” Tim takes a deep breath. “I know you hate us, I know you…” His eyes flicker towards her guards. “…You’ve made your opinions very clear—”
“I should certainly hope so,” Steph mutters.
“—but whatever you think of me, or Bruce, or Cass, Duke, Damian, anybody, Jason’s innocent. He’s suffered enough.” Tim has a warning in his eyes: You’ve hurt him enough. Like she’d actually tried to kill the kid or something (if Steph wanted Jason dead, he’d be dead; honestly, she didn’t even leave any permanent damage. Her lesson was no harsher than anything any of them got on a bad patrol, she was just more open about the point she was making.) “He’s just a kid.”
“And yet, you keep letting him out into this city.”
Anger flashes across Tim’s face, but he visibly chokes it down. “I’m not having this conversation with you. This has nothing to do with Jason’s hobbies or field trips, or whether or not you approve of them. This is about a 15yr old kid, missing in Gotham City, following the biggest Arkham breakout in the last 10yrs. Are you going to help or not?”
Steph sighs, propping one elbow on the table and leaning on her fist. “What have you got for me?”
“Jason snuck out for a party nine days ago—the night of the breakout.” (Translation: Jason was in uniform, probably on patrol.) “We have a system where even if he doesn’t want Bruce to know what he’s doing, Jason still calls me to check in every 2hrs. He checked in a little before 2, because he said he was about to be ‘really busy’ and didn’t want me to worry. I told him to go home. He told me he’d be fine, that he wasn’t anywhere near the mayhem.” Tim’s expression is flat, dead. “He didn’t check in again. Nobody’s seen or heard from him since. There have been no ransom demands. Last sighting was outside of Genevieve’s in Burnley.”
The invitation arrived six days ago exactly.
Steph needs to go. Steph needs—Steph needs to find that letter, she can’t remember if it had an address or a time, she can’t—
“I’ll pay whatever you want,” Tim tells her, seemingly unaware of how Steph’s breath is caught in her lungs (remembering what it was like to be 16, tiny, and at the whims of a madman. Eight full days. Did Steph suffer that long? She doesn’t think so, but the time all blurs together under the pain…) “Money is obviously no object. Weapons? Name them. Tech? I’ll build it for you myself. I can wipe your record clean. I can keep the Bats off your back. I can—” Tim swallows. “My balance isn’t the best anymore, but if you want me on my knees, I can beg. If you need me to demonstrate my gratefulness or if you need someone to hurt, I—”
“Oh my god, STOP!” The table wobbles as Steph jumps to her feet, nearly spilling her ginger ale—but then, she doesn’t really want it anymore. Her stomach is one giant knot, and she’s really regretting those onion rings she had earlier.
“Please,” Tim says, soft and far more earnest than Steph can deal with right now. “He’s my little brother. I… it’s my fault he thought he could go out like this. If there’s anything you can do…”
Steph needs to get to her office. She needs to find that note, and if she can’t find it, she needs to find Joker’s delivery boy so she can beat the answer out of him. She steps away from the table. “I’ll get back to you.”
Tim grabs Steph’s wrist as she passes by. “Please—”
“I said, I’ll get back to you,” Steph snaps, yanking her arm out of his grip. She looks away from Tim’s wounded expression. “I can’t do anything if you’re dragging me down.”
Tim’s shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you.”
“…You owe me. Whether I find him or not.”
“Thank you.”
Steph walks away. She doesn’t look back.
(She shoots Joker in the throat, grabs the nearest heavy object—curved & metal, but much else doesn’t register—and beats the clown’s head in while screaming insults in League dialect. She strips down to her suit’s under layer to keep Joker’s blood away from Jason, tossing her gloves away without caring about fingerprints, and kneels down in front of Jason, making herself as small as possible. She undoes the bonds, checking his injuries, and when Jason collapses into Steph’s arms, she holds on. Steph cradles Jason in her arms, helps him rehydrate from her water bottle, and apologizes in every language she knows for not being there for him sooner.)
(Without the mask or the armor, with Steph’s hair pulling wild & sweaty out of its braid, she doesn’t look nearly so much like the villain who hurt him before. Jason wonders if he’s dead or dreaming, to finally have the hero he looked up to for so much of his childhood decide he’s worth saving after all.)
(Steph would go to the ends of the earth to protect him from that point forward. When questioned, she just mutters something about not “letting all that work go to waste.”)
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