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thievescanted · 8 months

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cal-as-companion questions part 1

this is @omgkalyppso's fault btw

Where can your Tav be recruited? Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region? Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

cal can be found on the way to the grove just outside the nautiloid crash region, arguing with a man who, believing her to be dead, had been rifling through her bag. upon your interruption, the man will say he’s sorry for the mistake, but insist to you that he really did think she was dead. passing a DC 22 investigation check will reveal that there is something off about the way she breathes - it seems more deliberate than automatic.

when you realize she’s tadpoled too you can ask her to join you - she will be reluctant about it and tells you she doesnt play well with others. if you take her word for it though she says “Ohh ha that was a joke! No, we should definitely stick together. You could clearly use the help. No offense.”

Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?

astarion and shadowheart do nottt trust her lol

shadowheart: Are you quite sure we need her company? Far be it from me to question your judgement, but there’s something off about her. Something about her eyes, perhaps - they have this… cornered animal quality about them.

astarion: (looking over tav’s shoulder at cal, squinting - clearly is seeing something you don’t) Hm? Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine picking up another stray. Probably.

(after a long rest you can get the following banters if theyre both in the party:

astarion: you look cold, moretti. do you need a jacket? cal: you offerin’ me yours, sunshine? astarion: ugh. no, the last thing i need is for any of my clothes to come back reeking of cigarette smoke. i was only making an observation.

cal: you’ve got red on your collar there, astarion. what is that, tomato? or maybe - astarion: what? where? i - cal: (cackles) astarion: (sourly) oh, do fuck off.

they are playing undead chicken)

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

of shadowheart: So you're taking this one with us, then. She doesn't exactly seem the friendly sort, but then I suppose neither do I. of astarion: I'd be careful of that one. Just take my word for it, yeah? of wyll: He's coming along, then? No, I don't mean anything by it. He seems... (wrinkles her nose) nice. He seems perfectly nice. of karlach: (clearly not paying attention to you, very clearly trying to see karlach) Sorry, did you say something? I was admiring the view of the, uh. Landscape. Just appreciating nature. of lae'zel: Sorry, did she say she knows how to get these things out of our heads? Why are we following you? No offense. of gale: Gods, but that one can talk, can't he? Can't say I really understood any of it. Ugh, wizard shit.

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?

cal will act soo annoyed about you choosing to help people (“Listen, I don’t mean to get in the way of your whole… (dismissive hand-wave) hero thing, but I do feel compelled to remind you that the matter of the fucking brain parasites in our heads is kind of time-sensitive. But by all means, let’s stop and help every sorry bastard we come across.”). she then proceeds to approve of it every time. she also approves of you giving people money. fucking with rich people nets huge approval. also she likes if youre kind of mean to people. dont worry about it

Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions?

honestlyyyy i think cal will straight up leave the party if you encourage wyll to sign a new contract with mizora. she really values autonomy, and i think telling him to give up his life for that of his father would make her lose a lot of respect for you. she won't leave the party if you help the cult raid the grove, but it will drastically lower it to the point where if she disapproves further she may leave lol

Do they have any secrets that can be revealed? What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light?

she uhhhh died when she was 21, and was brought back to life by a woman named teverezhta; the condition for cal's revival was that she carry parcels for teverezhta around faerun. she doesn't know what's in them, or what theyre for (you later find out that one of the things she was delivering was shipments of the tadpoles youve been finding around - she was not aware of this). failure to comply with the terms of the contract would mean that tev could kill her automatically; however, the parasite currently gets in the way of this so cal has significantly more freedom. tev also can't currently track her by magical means

somewhere near ethel's house you can find a crow. if you speak to it it will just caw at you, with a note that the crow seems unusually intelligent (with animal speaking: caw. fuck off. caw.) the next time you long rest, the crow will appear in your camp and reveal itself as an half-elf man named emil, who informs cal that their business is not finished yet - tev may not be able to magically track cal, but if she finds she hasnt been doing her job, she'll find her and kill her herself. fortunately her current job is to continue investigating the cult

after this cal will explain her death and her contract to the best of her ability (she remembers neither, only that they happened). it's clear throughout the conversation that she worries youll see her as a liability

Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game? Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

YEAH. so you later find out that there's a piece of. someones soul that was inadvertently stiched into cal's heart during her resurrection - the intention had been for her to be a vessel for this soul, but it didnt quite go as planned so the teverezhta family found a different use for her. HOWEVER that piece of soul in her heart does give her the ability to utilize limited necromantic magic. growing that soul would increase her range of abilities, but also make her less herself (she'll eventually develop a second shadow, and her reflection will occasionally be. not her)

the end id define as the "good" end would be one where tav helps free cal from her contract. im not entirely sure how that would happen just yet, but it would mean she would be properly Alive again, albeit with that soul in her still

What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp? How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again?

> I need you to go back to camp. Cal: What, really? Won't you miss me? > I'll find you later - go wait there for the time being. Cal: Fine. I'll go stare at some rocks and wait for you to get back.

> Come with me - there's work to be done. Cal: Thought you'd never ask. Try to keep up.

Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight?

NOT..... really? like cal and astarion realize pretty quickly that theres something Going On with the other in an undead or undead-adjacent kind of way, but will have agreed to keep their noses out of it. they'll allude to it in banter from time to time to get a rise out of the other, but its - mostly - friendly

Are there any unique NPCs associated with your Tav that can show up during the course of the game?

emil will show up from time to time to annoy cal. he will flirt with the pc - to annoy cal - but nothing will ever really come of it. you can ask him about his family, and he'll give some answers. in a way that annoys cal somehow. he'll often show up as a crow, but he's like as not to appear in his genuine form

Are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? (Like Gale’s anecdote about the barfight after you save the goblin prisoner)

(upon finding the necromancy of thay): (sarcastically) Necromancy. How lovely. Ugh. We're not taking that with us, are we? I think that's real, actual skin on it. (if you give it to astarion): Listen, I like Astarion as much as the next guy, but are we really trusting him to be normal about that?

#bg3moretti

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fallowhearth · 7 months

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David Graeber and David Wengrow, The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity, 2021

This is not a review. It will probably be a bit of a ramble about my approach to reading history and thinking through why I bounced off this so many times. This is also about letting myself off the hook - I'm going to let this one remain unfinished. I don't need to finish reading it.

After I dropped out of grad school (highly recommended), it took me a good few years to be able to stomach picking up a history book again. But, I do really enjoy the discipline. There's a reason I wanted to do it as a career. I eventually found a way back in - from YouTube video essays, to a few podcasts, to reading history from outside my field. I had the most success with ancient/pre-modern histories; obligatory Tides of History plug as I've loved all the deep dives into genetic history and archaeology (and gotten quite a few great book recommendations). I don't have any particular knowledge in these fields, I don't have the language skills or context to interpret sources myself, I've never even taken an ancient history course. So reading these I have no option but to basically rely on the expertise of the historian, to see what they say about various topics and about each other. It's the opportunity to read history like a layperson, and hey, it's pretty interesting!

On the one hand, Dawn is engagingly written - I'd call it kind of magazine style? - and tells a compelling story. But, the whole time I'm wondering, but is any of it true?

My impulse when reading something from within my area of academic expertise is to go and take a look at some of the sources myself. It's always a useful sense-check; it's due diligence. History is by its nature kind of subjective. Historians don't just deal in lonely facts (to paraphrase someone whose name escapes me), but in interpretation and argumentation. Everything has been passed through several human filters before a historian even looks at it. So, in a room full of historians you respect, you can have a lively, contentious discussion where no two people have quite the same reading of the source. There's a skill you pick up after a while - you get a sense for the range of defensible interpretations of a particular piece of evidence. You'll feel more affinity for part of that range, based on the things you believe about how the world works, your particular axe to grind, other things you've read, niche academic beef, etc.

I'm confident I've read at least a few of the sources Dawn uses, and I've definitely read within adjacent bodies of sources. So, I have an incredibly strong need to go and take a look at the specific things they're basing their argument on. I trust my own judgement; I want to establish that range of defensible interpretations, I want to see what readings I'd pull out first, I want to see what the distance is between Dawn's point on that range and mine. The problem is that I can't. Even if I wanted to dive back into the archive, I literally don't have any of the institutional accesses that would allow me to. Also I really don't want to. So I'm constantly feeling this itch I can't scratch at the back of my mind while reading Graeber and Wengrow's work.

The broad version of Dawn's thesis is something like: 'humans have experimented with diverse ways to live and organise their societies across space and time, in ways that are not accommodated by the teleological models developed within the colonial context'. I'd say, yeah, I pretty much agree with that! (In fact it's a thesis I'd love to nail to the doors of many popular history writers.) But I get the same sense reading Dawn as I did reading various provocative works of global history (many of which I really like): the broad thesis is generally defensible, but it falls apart on the page-to-page level. Of course I can't actually confirm this since, well, I haven't done my due diligence!

#entering the grad school trauma zone for the sake of posting #anyway I'm open to suggestions for my next attempt at reading #though I think Weavers Scribes and Kings has been on my list for a while

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picathartidae · 2 months

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random OC ask: how does your OC express affection? how does it vary based on the relationship in question?

Alassane is not an affectionate person by nature, and has used physical intimacy as an intimidation tactic more than anything. Even after he’s had his character development and isn’t being an omnicidal maniac, he finds it kind of difficult to be genuine and can get super awkward when he tries. He’s relatively unsure of himself and keenly aware of his own potentially violent sanity slippage, so doesn’t want to get anyone else involved. Those walls get thrown up at a moment’s notice and are not the easiest to break down.

There’s also the fact that the ways he shows affection are also the same things he does when trying to manipulate people, just with different intentions. It’s what comes naturally to him and I don’t think he knows how else to act.

He’s pretty tactile with his closest, most emotionally intimate relationships (basically, the people he’s ride-or-die for); which is really just Karlach and Astarion. Though he tends to approach people more on their terms.

For example, he leans against Karlach and rests his head on her shoulder and presses himself against her and is generally very heavy on the physical contact, but that’s more because he knows she’s touch-starved and finds more comfort in that. With Astarion, it’s much gentler. He’s very slow and deliberate with how they interact; because it’s more about consent and allowing Astarion to set boundaries as he needs them. Things like caressing him with his tail and holding hands and playing with his hair and just sleeping next to him. Lots of non-sexual closeness.

If it’s someone he sees more as a mentor/authority figure (Jaheira, Halsin, and even Minsc, to an extent), he keeps a respectful distance. It’s a much bigger capitulation on his part than it initially seems – Alassane historically put a lot of effort in creating distance between himself and others as a way to assert his superiority (he frequently pretended to be a germaphobe as an excuse to enforce distance). If he’s allowing someone else that space, he’s showing them the respect he used to demand from everyone else.

Generally, he’s eminently practical, and does things that he can pretend is for a different reason. He’s not at all comfortable with being vulnerable and showing people that he likes them, and will try to hide it behind something else. A big way he ends up bonding with Wyll is by acknowledging his transformation into a fiend and giving him very blunt, practical advice in regards to appropriate diets and horn care. He starts regularly sparring with Lae’zel after the crèche which helps take both their minds off the situation while also keeping their skills sharp. He and Shadowheart have a silent mutual agreement to listen to each other vent without judgement. He throws every scroll he finds at Gale and asks about everything even remotely magical they come across even when he possibly already knows the answer just to let Gale info-dump. That kind of thing.

Another thing he does that shows his affection – which is maybe not so great but oh well – is his willingness to verbally eviscerate the people he cares about if he thinks they’re making a bad decision. He’s usually big on trusting people to make their own decisions, but sometimes… well. Sometimes he feels very strongly about it. Post-amnesia Alassane is pretty entrenched in his desperate desire to be liked by people, so if he’s at a point where he’s willing to put that on the line and tell you, point blank, that you’re being an idiot, actually, it’s effectively a love confession. He only brings out the aggressive tough-love with people he’s invested in and doesn’t want to see self-destruct. Does not pull his punches, though. He will deeply hurt you if he thinks it will save you.

#character asks #answered asks #oc: alassane erendse

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izakvoros · 8 months

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F, I, P, Q

F - Friend.

Hm, this one shouldn't be hard to explain, but it also is. Izak is actually a really good friend if he genuinely likes you and thinks you are worth the time to get to know. He's very picky about who he let's in like that, but know that once you have a friend with him, you'll have a friend for life. It's hard to make him totally abandon you, unless you are actively trying to do so or piss him off. He will kill for you, pay for your needs, and defend you. But, getting to that point is basically like doing a Dark Souls no hit run. Virtually impossible, but not totally unreachable. When first making friends, everything is on a quid-pro-quo level and built deeply on respect (for him, mind you). He's the vampire prince, remember! Transactions, loyalties, ass kissing...yeah all that mess before, and then he'll return the favor in same.

I - Inventor

I wouldn't say that he's creative so much as he's strategic. He's very manipulative, and if he can turn things around in his favor, by gods he'll find a way. He relies on others if he knows he can trust them or use them to his advantage.

P - Philosopher

Eh, I would say he's 75/25 with being less philosophic. Life is a game and a battleground to him. His only goal in life is to be granted into Valhalla when he dies, so he builds his personal philosophies around that.

Q - Queen

This one is easy to answer in a single phrase: he's the self-coined vampire prince of Vievecor City; though, I would bet that there are others who would agree with that statement (though, whether it's admiration or a tease it's completely up for debate). He is a strong leader, having more loyalties to the vampires than any other species, which is why that made him such a powerful clan leader. He believes in iron judgement, that any punishments should result in brutal hardship for rehabilitation. When he was on the council, he would put the vampires before anyone else, though I guess some could consider that to be a little self-indulgent because it could come across as saving his own ass. However, he really does care for his kin, even if they don't care for him.

#answered #task tuesday

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sluttyten · 2 years

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saying you’re “mad” txt hasn’t released anti romantic in English is, I’m sorry to say, racist. It may be unintentional but it IS racist. Koreans do not have to make English music for you to go to work and not annoy your coworkers. That’s not their business, just like it’s none of YOUR business what they release. It doesn’t matter how good the song is to you. It doesn’t matter if it “slaps”. It doesn’t matter that it’s given you “ANY interest in txt’s music”.

You’re just one—entitled—consumer and saying you’re mad about this is genuinely just embarrassing, no matter how lighthearted you meant the post to be. And before you come at me, it’s not “not that deep.” This is 100% a microaggression that’s perpetuated all over the place in this industry. Koreans don’t need to speak English for you as a white person. You’re annoying to think otherwise and I have absolutely no respect for that creepy attitude. And also, the fact you try to double down with some point about how this would gain them success on the charts is a ridiculously inappropriate statement. You’re not their manager, friend, or an expert. I don’t have any type of blind trust in BigHit—they’re not perfect or even great at managing their artists—but you, a white/non-Korean woman, making some kind of statement about their success just because of a work playlist is uncalled for. If their professional judgement made them want to record an English version, they would have. And the truth is, you’re only bringing that up to exude a sense of selflessness. You complain about something that is ONLY a problem to you and then back it up with some crock that is “to help them.” Again, maybe it’s unintentional but it gives the strongest air of white-saviorism. You definitely need to check yourself for that privilege, especially with the way you interact with that whole industry.

I was so confused when I checked my inbox and saw this series of messages lol, like I forgot I even posted that, so I was confused why you’re coming in my inbox three days after I said this. But I scrolled down and found my post to remind myself what I said:

I really didn’t mean for it to come off like any of the way that you described, but reading this back I can see how you got your interpretation. I just want to clarify what I was trying to say, and I’m sorry if it still doesn’t come across in the right way. First, I love the song the way it is, I generally don’t care that it’s not in English, and that goes for basically every single Kpop song I’ve heard. If I didn’t want to listen to music in Korean, I wouldn’t be a Kpop fan. I’m not saying that I wish they would just sing in English or speak in English because that would be ridiculous, and if I wanted those things I would just be a fan of artists that only sang or spoke in English. That’s not at all what I was trying to say.

Secondly, I understand that it is a big issue with people (“fans”) telling artists to speak/sing in English, so maybe I should have phrased it differently in that post, but that is simply not really the way I think about it.

Third, my coworkers and the area I live in are largely country-music loving people, so a lot of pop music isn’t exactly their taste and especially not music when it’s in a different language. Some people just like music that they can understand and sing along to without having to learn a new language, and I don’t think there’s really any harm in that unless they’re being rude and/or disrespectful towards people who are fans of that type of music. Because of that, I stand by what I said about if the song were in English it would have been popular on American charts, like it’s undeniable that BTS started getting more radio play when they made English songs, like even my coworkers (who, again, largely listen to country, and sometimes very mainstream pop) have heard and recognize Dynamite and Butter.

Fourth, I am totally and fully aware that this music is not being made for me personally in any way, shape, or form. As you point out, I am white and an English speaker, so clearly the entirety of the Kpop genre was not created with me or anyone like me in mind. I don’t think that these artists need to cater to my specific tastes. Like damn lol I don’t think my opinion is gonna change anything, I don’t expect it to have any influence, just like when I complained about Sticker and said Lemonade should’ve been the title track, I didn’t think that opinion mattered either because it doesn’t. I’m sure their management teams are gonna do their best to make the best decisions for the group.

So lastly, Anti-Romantic is a terrific song exactly the way it is, I love it totally, and TXT is good too. I’m not saying anything against any of that, I was just trying to express my frustration that my coworkers don’t like Kpop music in the slightest (and to each their own, people like the music that they like. I like Kpop and they don’t. They like screamo music or country music, and I don’t really like either of those much), and since I know they won’t give the songs a chance in Korean, I just wish there was the opportunity for them to fall in love with the song in English, as maybe that could act as a gateway into the appreciation for more Kpop songs in Korean. Like I said up top, I’m sorry if this still comes across as rude because I really genuinely don’t mean it to be, I did mean the original post in a lighthearted way, and I am aware that there are prevalent issues throughout the world and among the Kpop community that could make that post seem a lot less lighthearted and more serious

#asks #also I don’t see there being any problem with me saying that the song is what got me into txt #cherry bomb got me into nct before that i didn’t know or care about their music #just like before anti romantic I only knew txt as the boys who like barked in a song or something

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indiansalahkar · 1 year

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GST registration for online service provider: Guide By Indian Salahkar

Are you an GST registration for online service provider? Have you been wanting to register your business under the Goods and Services Tax (GST) regime but struggling to understand how it works? Then this article is just what you need! Here, we at Salahkar will be discussing everything related to GST registration as far as online services are concerned. Let’s get started!

I. An Overview of GST Registration The process of registering a business under the Goods and Services Tax regime can be quite simple yet detailed depending on individual needs. In order to adequately explain it, let us first have a high-level overview before diving into the specifics concerning different types of business entities operating within the ambit of modern technologies.

II. The Different Types of Business Entities Eligible for GST Enrolment There are several categories or ‘legal persons’ who qualify for enrolment with respect to Indian taxation laws – such as HUF or Hindu Undivided Family, individuals or natural persons, sole proprietorship firms, companies registered under Companies Act 2013/1956 etc., trusts like mutual funds trust and charitable organizations set up by Government bodies/private sector enterprises; foreign nationals running non profit activities in India, representative assesses etc.. However those which were most relevant when considering digital modes operated businesses include eCommerce operators that sell goods through their websites over internet while other pass through one person intermediary subjecting itself loyalty point programmes beneath Information Technology act 2000 without contradicting Competitions rules 2006 not limited like gambling involving real currency later accepted across permitted banks authorized RBI also known E commerce Payment Gateways Managing safe transactions cyberspace after KYC standards followed banking institutes prior providing trader number against participation tax formal application filed active commissioner office raised certain practical questions fulfilling market research focus aspects affirming core objectives reforms enforced Cabinet ministry since year 2017 vide approved acts where passing benefit customers entitled submit returns identifying jurisdiction making provision responsible about party valuation implemented time VAT pertaining exports international supply exemption earlier effective 01 April 2020 incluive sales excluded entity liable receive payment apart from collecting issue invoices credit further optional debit consider separate system chargeable values covering every consistent policy enforcement purpose likely hoping best following applicable law authorities dispute settlement resolution authority overseen tribunal advocate represent assessing suggestions part ensuring smooth transition platform build survive long course having confident feel might helpful present scenario growing globalised world aware ensure authentic proceeds generated investments expansions prepare face future challenges amid conditions

III. Steps for Registering Under GST 1) Obtain Digital Signature Certificate: This certificate is needed if you wish legally authenticate files sent electronically using computers instead paper documents signatures manually forcing legal binding agreement collective recognized statement strengthen validation previously passed scrutiny revealed valid save constructive appeal judgement reserved power finally post behalf declare signature due courtesy allowing generate view publically given span frame deciding operate compliant directions provided less competent staff unionized attended agreeing secure manner suitable port possibly risk security breach operations concerning involve understanding consent published notice governed section 2007 IT Commissions regularly file anti dumping duties working nations join offering local taxes incurred type formation prevalent globally includes sellers

#GST registration for online service provider

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xaharadesert · 3 years

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Shifter MC - Headcanon Pt 1

Julian Devorak x MC

A/N: This request is from @tasteofgummies, who was super helpful in teaching me more about shifting! The premise is fairly self-explanatory, so let’s get right into it! Requests are closed, please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes! I’ve decided to divide this request into 6 parts, similar to some of my other longer posts, because I know that it can frustrating waiting so long for someone to upload your request :) also, I get a little bit of serotonin every time I click “post” instead of “save”.

❤️Julian❤️

He usually wasn’t the type to pry into other people’s business uninvited

Having met all kinds of people throughout his life, he knew better than to push an unwanted topic of conversation, and often redirected the dialogue to one of his own adventures when he noticed his company growing uncomfortable

However, after the two of you had been partners for some time, he began to worry about how little he knew about your past, and where you went on your mysterious journeys you claimed he couldn’t join you on

At first he tried to ease his mind by reasoning that it may be some magic thing he hadn’t yet learned about (Asra has been similarly mysterious), but in the end, that only really served to make his nerves worse

He trusted you with his whole life, past, present, and future, and although he could tell you loved him, as you reminded him every day, he did wonder why you didn’t trust him in the same way

Funnily enough, the straw that broke the camel’s back was a small reference that he didn’t understand that you refused to explain

Obviously there was no way for you to explain something to him when it came from a world he was never a part of, but you couldn’t tell him that

This launched a larger argument, as Julian was becoming increasingly frustrated with your unwillingness to communicate

He pointed out that you often pushed him to be open with his feelings and needs, and he felt it was unfair that you refused to do the same

You, of course, were struggling to find a way to placate him without telling him the truth, as you had spent so long keeping it from him that you feared revealing it could be akin to a bomb dropping on your relationship

But it was inevitable; Julian was arguing that he didn’t even know why you had moved to Vesuvia in the first place, and you finally snapped

“I came here to be with you!”

This caused him to pause, as he must have misheard you

What you had just said made no sense, as you hadn’t even known Julian all those years ago

There was no possible way you could’ve

So, while your argument had ended, his confusion had only grown

And of course, there was only one way through the mess you had made: forward

You had him sit down, and offered to make some tea before beginning the explanation, knowing that it would be hard for him to accept

You asked that he be respectful of what you were about to tell him, and that he wait until you were finished to ask questions or pass judgement

He agreed, and you began

It was a long explanation, with an even longer question period

Obviously he was hesitant at first, seeing as this was all completely new information, and he was usually at best skeptical of most magic, but he became more accepting when you pointed out that he had literally traveled to other dimensions with you before

He adjusts rather quickly, recognizing that learning these new things about you didn’t change who you were as a person, but instead allowed him a bettering understanding of you as a whole

He’s flattered to realize that you really had come to Vesuvia specifically for him, and teases you about it quite a bit

He’s also completely fascinated by what you tell him about your own world, particularly the advancements in science, and cultural diversity across the continents

If you have any struggles in your own world, he would be upset to realize that he can’t be with you there physically to comfort you

He makes sure that you know just how much he loves you— which is more than he loves pretty much everything else— before you return to your original world

And he always welcomes you back with the biggest hug, asking how you’ve been and if you have any new stories to share

No matter how often you have to leave, he’ll always be waiting for you to return home to him

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andtheyweresiblings · 2 years

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Madrigals' Reactions to Mirabruno Headcanons

(for this anon)

Per anon's request, I'm going to share some headcanons on what might happen if the Madrigal family finds out the Bruno and Mirabel are involved.

A word of warning: these got a little dark.

I'm not sure how Mirabel and Bruno would be found out, but I don't think the circumstances matter too much. Once the other Madrigals find out about them, I think most of the family would view Bruno as a predator or the one most at fault for the relationship.

Initially, they are all going to want to give Bruno a benefit of the doubt. They don't want to repeat past mistakes. But when it’s unequivocally confirmed that he and Mirabel are in fact together, there would be very little room for mercy and forgiveness for Bruno and very little respect and trust for Mirabel.

If the family does discover them, it would likely happen when Mirabel is younger. Maybe when she is still in her 20s. I think that if the two can make it a good 5-10 years without being detected by anyone besides Dolores, then they would likely get away with it (Tangent: I could see them getting away with it like how they do in this fic on AO3. Please mind the fic's tags).

The point is, Mirabel would still be considered young enough that the family would likely view this as a case of grooming on Bruno’s part and impaired judgement on Mirabel’s.

However, there would certainly be a lot of conflicting feelings, attitudes, opinions, and responses about it within each family member and across the family.

Luisa and Isabela would be torn. On one hand, it's likely that they'd understand what their parents and tíos don't, and that is that Mirabel played an equal and consensual role in this relationship. They’re closer to her by this point and have a better understanding of what is going on in her mind. Maybe they didn’t know the full details, but I think Mirabel would have to had confided in someone at the initial stages of the relationship. She might have been vague or secretive about it, but it’s likely that her sisters were aware something was going with Mirabel, though they might not have known what or with who. Because of this, they probably know that she went into this relationship autonomously. And…they want to be supportive sisters when it comes to her happiness. They do. But at the same time, this is so wrong. So disturbing. So concerning. They are at a complete loss of what to do.

With Dolores and Mariano, I like where anon was going. It's likely that Dolores has known about Bruno and Mirabel’s relationship for years. Especially when Mirabel and Bruno got more physically intimate. But Mariano, the romantic and open-minded himbo he is, probably helped Dolores work through whether it was worth revealing this terrible secret to the family. The two ultimately realized that more harm would likely come from the family finding out about Mirabel and Bruno than if the couple stays a secret (spoiler: they're right).

So when the greater family finds out, Dolores is very...strategic in her reactions to it all. She doesn't want to reveal that she has known all along because that would not go well for her and her family. But she has also had years to process it, to a point that it doesn't disturb her anymore. Besides that, I think given her gift, Dolores would likely be the most open-minded of them all. I'm sure she has been aural witness to much more horrendous things than the consensual relationship between her uncle and her cousin.

Camilo and Antonio can go either way, depending on your preferences. My guess is that Antonio would still be young enough that the family would be trying to keep him out of it. Whereas I personally like the idea of Camilo feeling morbidly vindicated because he never trusted Bruno.

Félix, while disturbed and upset by the whole thing, would ultimately be trying to keep the peace in the family while the family is still in deliberation mode of Bruno and Mirabel's sentences for their crimes against the family. I think he would probably take it upon himself to be the “neutral party” within the family, regardless of the fact that he is just as emotionally invested in this as everyone else. That being said, I think he would be the only one willing to offer Bruno some stern compassion in the fallout.

And Augustín? Oh, poor Augustín. Mirabel is his baby daughter. His youngest. His hija preciosa. He is close with all his daughters, but he and Mirabel had bonded for years over being the two ungifted in their family. All this time he thought she just didn't feel ready for a relationship, and it turns out she was just secretly with her uncle Bruno? He is devastated. Enraged. Betrayed by both of them.

He feels blindsided by Mirabel because she was the daughter he thought he understood the best—the daughter he was closest with—but no. It feels like an illusion shattering before him with the revelation that during all those years of perceived closeness, Mirabel was keeping this monstrous secret from him. He feels back-stabbed by Bruno because the brother-in-law he had defended all those years turned out to be capable of committing amoral, unspeakable acts without (in Augustín's eyes) any concern for who it might hurt, and to his daughter (Bruno’s niece!), no less.

Julieta and Pepa, like Isabela and Luisa, are incredibly conflicted. They would probably exist in this surreal level denial for a little bit. Like they would refuse to believe that Bruno and Mirabel are romantically involved, but eventually they reach this point where they know it’s true but still can’t really, fully comprehend its implications. However, at some point, they would have to face the fact that Bruno was engaging in romantic relations with his niece and would have continued to do so if they had not been caught.

Once they accept this, they would likely feel a lot of disgust and vitriol towards Bruno. It would be painful, of course. He is their triplet, and he will always have an irreplaceable spot in their hearts. They had been through so much together growing up, and ultimately, he is still their nene, their “baby” brother, so they can’t find it in themselves to stop loving him. But what he has done is unthinkable, irreversible, unforgivable. And they will support any judgement the family makes.

And that brings us to Alma. Who, at this point, was already preparing Mirabel for becoming the new head of the family, the new candle keeper. Like Augustín, this revelation absolutely blindsides her. The shame she would likely feel due to learning that not only her son is engaging in such despicable acts, but also her granddaughter, would be immeasurable. It's very easy (and maybe necessary for her sanity) for her to revert to her original attitudes towards Bruno and Mirabel. They do not care about the family. There is something deeply, maybe even inherently, wrong about both individually, and together, they have irredeemably lost their way from the family and made sure to do it in a way that would take the family down with them in the most destructive way possible.

And look, Disney resolution or not, Alma is still so set in her ways. Sure, over the last several years since Casita's reconstruction, she has been trying to do better. But she still has 50+ years of her working tirelessly, ceaselessly on fostering this image that la Familia Madrigal is a pillar to the community. A cornerstone of the town. The disgust, rage, shock, and absolute grief she feels from the discovery be damned; she would be most focused on saving face.

And so comes the tragedy.

The family, led by Alma and Augustín, would officially disown Bruno. He would be banished from Casita. Banished from the larger Encanto, though it would be as quiet an ordeal as they can manage. The family would ensure that Bruno was not living in Casita’s walls, likely with the help of Antonio's animals because while they still don’t want to involve him, Alma would be smart enough not to fully trust Dolores. Beyond that, the family would have no control about where Bruno would go, but it doesn't really matter to them, as long as he does not show his face in the town and doesn't communicate with the family at all.

The transition to no longer talking about Bruno again would be swift. Just like before, the townsfolk can only guess why. Like Alma, I think it would be easy for them to revert to their original opinions. And the rumors created in his second estrangement would probably be even more insidious because who gets estranged from their family a second time after getting a second chance? And what crime must he have committed that this time this estrangement seems to be endorsed by the whole family?

As I mentioned before, Mirabel would still be young enough that the family, despite her protestations, would place less of the blame on her. Alma and her parents, especially, would do everything in their power to "reform" Mirabel.

At first, during the process of banishing Bruno, Mirabel would be sentenced to house arrest. The people who would help enforce it most would be Augustín, Julieta, and Camilo. Luisa and Isabela would try their best to be neutral parties in all this, but I think the adults could guilt Luisa enough to get her to stand guard in Mirabel’s room if they frame it as protecting Mirabel.

Dolores and Mariano are still navigating the landmine field that is now the Madrigal family politics, so they would probably act neutral with a slight surface-level support towards Alma. Because they're savvy, and I think they understand that Mirabel will need undercover allies once everything settles into place.

Mirabel would not go without a fight, and she would probably have many escape attempts. But—and here is where it can get especially dark—Mirabel’s mental health would inevitably take a hit, which would lead to fewer escape attempts. There would be A LOT to explore for both Mirabel and Bruno when it comes to how they both cope with the fallout, especially since they are now separated.

Ultimately, I want a happy ending for these two even in these circumstances, but it would get so much darker and so much worse before it could get better.

#mirabruno #madrigalcest #brunomira #brumira #bruno x mirabel #family weirdos #family weirdos headcanons #this is so long and i still have more thoughts but i just had to cut it off at some point to get this out here #atws #c

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

Okay but what about Hermann is just horny 24/7, but he's repressing his feelings. And Newt who sees it and maybe is enjoying a bit. And one day Newt just pins Hermann to a lab wall, ties his arms with a belt or sleeves of his shirt and teases Hermann until he melts in his hands. And Newt murmurs to Hermann something like "sweetheart, you could have just said.." This thought makes me DEAD

a fic! somewhat obviously rated 18+/not for kids' eyes!!!!! so all hidden below the cut, lmfao. dedicated to people on side twitter bc boy do I love some light d/s + nerm

It’s not like Newt’s never looked at Hermann before. Look-looked, in like, a sexy, considering way. It gets lonely in the lab with just the two of them, after all, and usually Hermann is the only face Newt will see for hours, days, one memorable occasion when they were super-swamped with work, a week. His face is the only one that comes to mind when Newt wants to have sexy thoughts for that reason—it’s just, like, easier and takes less imagination to masturbate to the thought of the guy you see every day than anyone else. And Hermann is kind of hot, Newt guesses, in a weird, repressed nerd kind of way. He thinks it has something to do with not knowing what Hermann's bothering to repress so bad. Maybe he's got a hot bod under all those layers or sucks dick like a porn star or something. Or he's hiding how horny he is all the time and would love nothing more than to cut loose for once. (Newt would be happy to take one for the team!) It's gotta be that, because Newt can't imagine why else the thought of Hermann—scowling and hunching over a chalkboard in one of his god-awful tweed blazers—gets him so goddamn riled up every time he sticks his hand down his pants.

Whatever the appeal is, Newt's masturbatory fantasies tend to tilt towards very particular (and well-loved) scenarios: Hermann finally gets fed up with Newt’s obnoxious behavior and shoves him against a wall to teach him a lesson, or Hermann holds Newt down on a bed or the lab couch or the floor and has his way with him to teach him a lesson, or Hermann grips Newt’s shoulders and uses his mouth in any way he sees fit to teach him a lesson. Newt's real into the idea of Hermann being in control. Or, in other words, Hermann doing the doing, Newt doing the taking. Not that Newt is adverse to topping. He'd be down for it if Hermann was. (And not that Newt spends a lot of time considering what Hermann is down for, and whether or not letting Newt top him is on that list, but yeah, Newt does kind of hope it would be.)

He's just...always assumed Hermann would want things that way. Newt's kind of assumed that he would want them that way, too.

All of his preconceived sexy notions about Hermann come crashing down around him one completely ordinary day in the lab.

It happens in a flash, too. A couple of seconds max. Hermann is over in Newt's space (he flagrantly disobeys the tape line more than Newt does, no matter what he may claim), shouting at him about something dumb and waving his cane around for dramatic effect. Only he's not looking where he's waving it, and the end of it comes into contact with a vial of some somewhat lethal weird kaiju gland extract that Newt's been planning on experimenting with this week, and the whole thing fuckin' shatters. "Shit!" Newt says, at the same time Hermann says "Bugger," and, before Newt knows it, Hermann's reaching out to save a pile of Newt's lab notes from certain kaiju gland death.

Which is royally stupid of him. That stuff is already eating through Newt's wooden work bench like it's nothing—God knows what it'd do to Hermann's skin. Newt's messy notes are not worth it.

"Dude, no," Newt exclaims, and grabs Hermann's wrist to stop him.

And Hermann...moans.

They stare at each other. The kaiju gland extract drips to the metal floor, where it sizzles harmlessly.

Hermann pulls his arm away.

"Clean this up," he snaps. He turns heel and storms out, giving Newt a spectacular view of the fiery red flush spreading down the back of his neck.

Huh, Newt thinks. That's something new.

-----

"I'm not some sort of sexual deviant," Hermann assures him. "I have. Er. Entirely respectable—tastes. Typically."

"Uh-huh," Newt says.

"Only this is quite out of character for me," Hermann says.

Newt pulls his tie taut around Hermann's wrists to watch Hermann squirm and grins, just a little, before knotting it loosely. "No offense, Hermann," he says, "but bondage isn't exactly hardcore. Besides, it's fine if you like out-there kinda stuff. No judgement."

“But I don’t,” Hermann says.

“I’m not saying you do,” Newt says, “I’m saying—”

“And this isn’t bondage.” Hermann sniffs. “Bondage sounds—”

"Look, dude, do I need to gag you?" Newt jokes.

Except Hermann maybe doesn't get the joke: his eyes widen, and mouth hangs open. Not exactly the shouty, loud response and demand for respect Newt was expecting. Also something new. Newt's learning a lot of very, very unexpected things about Hermann, and part of him wishes he had a notebook or his tape recorder on hand to take inventory of all of it. Subject A (Hermann Gottlieb) likes having his wrists pinned and his big dumb mouth shut up. Conclusion: ? "I—I beg your pardon?" Hermann says.

Today marks a week after the kaiju gland incident. A week of furtive glances across the tape line, Hermann's badly-hidden blushes, and Newt reevaluating every single goddamn thing he's ever thought or assumed about the guy (and himself, to be honest), and Newt was finally the one to snap. In Newt's defense, it wasn't totally out of the blue. At lunch time an uncharacteristically quiet and bashful Hermann slid a cup of coffee onto Newt's desk, mumbling something about how Newt really needed to get more sleep, and Newt just...

Hermann didn't moan when Newt grabbed his wrists that time; his tongue darted out over his lips, and he looked at Newt through the dark eyelashes of his half-mast eyelids. "Please," he had said.

Newt gets why Hermann was being so weird and cagey about it, he really does. It’s hard to admit to yourself you want something kinda embarrassing, and Newt knows it’s just as embarrassing for Hermann to like him as it is for Newt to like Hermann. Newt’s weird, and small, and probably smells bad, and Hermann’s weird, and smells bad (cigarette smoke and moth-eaten sweaters, but Newt jerks off to it anyway, huh, doesn't he), and is slightly not as small. But holy shit, if he didn’t melt into a puddle when Hermann breathed that out all desperately, like it took all he had.

“Do you want me to gag you?” Newt says.

He’s using the skinny tie Hermann claims to hate so much on his wrists, or he might’ve seriously balled up the fabric and shoved it into Hermann’s mouth. There’s not much else in the way of gags readily on hand in the lab, no fabric scraps or anything like that. Maybe they’ll try it later. He kisses Hermann instead, slipping his tongue past those open lips, and Hermann parts them wider with a throaty groan. "Ah, Newton—"

Newt didn’t really expect their first kiss to go like this. He didn’t expect their first kiss to, like, happen in the first place, but it’s especially weird that it’s happening while Hermann is bound up and pressed up against his chalkboard. Newt's been keeping an eye on Hermann's leg, careful of any sign that it's going to give out and that they should move this to the couch, but Newt's knee between both of Hermann's seems to be all the support he needs. “I’m here, dude,” he says, and slips down to press a gentle kiss to Hermann’s jaw instead, then his neck. Hermann tilts his head back with another groan; he flexes against his restraints.

Is Newt the first person Hermann's ever done this with? Or trusted enough to tell he wants to do this?

The possibility kinda just makes this all hotter to Newt. He drags the tips of his fingers up Hermann's chest, feeling his heart pound through the thick layers of his button-down and sweatervest, and drags them back down. He stops just at Hermann's bound wrists. Hermann groans softly. "Do you want me to touch you more?" Newt says.

"Please," Hermann says, "ah, please, Newton—"

Newt does, smiling as he curls up on the toes of his boots and presses another kiss to Hermann's mouth. His right hand, he uses to ruck up Hermann's sweatervest and dig under his shirt; his left hand, he curls the fingers of in Hermann's skinny tie bindings to tug sharply. Hermann's chest is bony and warm beneath his palm. His heart is beating faster, and faster. "Please," Hermann begs again, and this time when Newt kisses him, he sags against Newt helplessly.

"Hermann," Newt murmurs. Hermann's breath is fogging up his glasses and making it difficult for him to see. Which is a goddamn shame, because Newt wants to, like, memorize the image of a flushed and panting and begging Hermann, tattoo it to his skin forever as a reminder of today, a whole big splash of color on his back where he was planning on putting another kaiju. Yeah, Newt takes back what he said earlier, Hermann isn't just kinda hot—he's very hot. He drags his tongue over Hermann's pulse point, and says, just as gently, "Hermann, you could've just said."

Newt would've done anything for Hermann when he grabbed Hermann's wrists and Hermann breathed out a simple please, and Newt would do anything for Hermann now. Newt would get every single tattoo removed if it meant making Hermann happy. He bites down on the sweaty, pale skin of Hermann's neck, unable to hold back a moan of his own when Hermann's whole body writhes with it, and shoves his hand down Hermann's oversized slacks.

"I want you to come," Newt mumbles, rubbing at him furiously, "I want you to come, I wanna make you come, I wanna—"

Hermann muffles his cry in Newt's shoulder when he does. Newt waits until he's stopped shaking to untie his wrists carefully, and isn't surprised when Hermann immediately grabs Newt's shoulders to steady himself. (Hermann thighs are still trembling from the awesome orgasm Newt gave him. It's pretty hot. But also, Newt should probably grab his cane for him.) "You—you've made a terrific mess of me," Hermann sniffs, vaguely annoyed, like he's reprimanding Newt for knocking a piece of kaiju intestine on the floor again.

Newt decides not to mention to Hermann that he kinda soaked the knee of Newt's jeans, too. He can do laundry later. "Sorry, man," Newt says, but Hermann gives another, happier sniff when Newt kisses his cheek. "I'll take care of it."

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag

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aomine-ryo · 3 years

Text

Kind of late, but I had an idea for a fic that’s been in my drafts for a while and I wanted to post it for Kise’s birthday but it wasn’t quite done yet. But it is now, so here it is, hope you like it!

Scenario: New kid, Kise Ryouta ends up falling for the reader

gender neutral reader

It’s not particularly easy being the new kid at school. Especially if you were Kise Ryouta. Being a well known athlete and model, it was difficult for him to be able to find friends in a new place that didn’t have ulterior motives. However, Kise learned to deal with it. He was cold to people until he himself learned to respect them and understand their motives.

But the problem with him was not in the friendship category, but rather the romance one.

Kise had a tendency to fall for the first person that was nice to him in a new place, and that almost always ended in the other person using him. So this time, he promised himself that he was not going to hurt himself yet again.

On his first day, Kise stood at the front of the class and introduced himself. “Um, hi, nice to meet you, I’m Kise Ryouta. I look forward to getting to know you all and well, I don’t really know what else to say,” he said, turning to the teacher for some help. The class filled with a small chatter once he stopped talking, and he could already faintly hear comments about how ‘cute’ he looks.

“It’s alright Kise. You can take that empty seat next to Y/N over there,” the teacher said, pointing.

Your head snapped back to the front of the class from gazing out the window at the sound of your name. Of course the new kid got stuck in the seat next to you. He was cute, you couldn’t disagree. However, that only meant that everyone else was going to be swarming around your desk for a while.

The teacher went on with the regular announcements until the bell for first period rang. “Oh right, before I forget, Y/N, can I trust you to show Kise around the school during your break?” she added.

You held back a sigh as you nodded. “Sure,” you replied curtly, glancing over at Kise and giving him an awkward smile.

As expected, once the teacher left, he was soon surrounded by girls asking him questions that were borderline invasive. How do they do it? How do they simply have the courage to speak to people like that? In a way, you envied them for their confidence, but it was also quite pathetic.

Eventually, the break came around and Kise approached your desk with a polite smile. Why did he get stuck with you out of all people? You were the first one that caught his eye and Kise could already see himself catching feelings for you. But he made a promise to himself and he was going to keep it. He wasn’t going to get played with again.

“Hey, um, Y/N, right?” who was he kidding? He knew your name. It was stuck in his head ever since the teacher instructed him to sit next to you.

“Yeah, just give me a second, I just have to organise this mess and we’ll be on our way,” you said, fumbling with the stationery that was cluttering your desk.

“Oh, you don’t really have to give me that tour if you don’t want to. I don’t want to be a burden— I can probably figure things out myself,” Kise said.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind helping out. If you end up getting lost at some point I’ll feel bad,” you insisted, finally putting the last of your things away and standing up. “Okay, we’re all good. Shall we?”

Kise hesitated for a moment. He really didn’t want to do this, but he didn’t have any more excuses so he simply walked by your side.

You showed him all the classes that he would regularly be attending, adding a few tips that you learned through the years whenever you could. This was the most you’d ever spoken to someone who wasn’t a close friend and yet Kise remained rather silent. Did he think you were boring? Were you talking too much? God, why did you have to be assigned this task?

“Oh right, I almost forgot. Are you joining any clubs?” you asked him as you walked through the halls.

“Yeah, I’ll be joining the basketball club,” Kise nodded.

“Right, I figured,” you mumbled, making Kise let out a small chuckle.

“Hey, you might have made the right judgement this time, but don’t judge a book by its cover,” Kise joked.

“It was more of an intuition thing rather than judging you, I swear,” you replied defensively, holding back a giggle.

“Mhmm I’m sure it was,” he said sarcastically. He hated how bright your smile was. It was so warm and gentle, he could look at it all day. He barely even knew you, but he was already obsessed with your smile. Just his luck.

“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m the manager for the basketball team so you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

This had to be some sort of cruel joke. “Really? That’s great. So I could probably just tail behind you and not get lost by the looks of it.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. You hoped he was joking. The last thing you needed was a bunch of fangirls trailing you around campus. “Let me show you the way to the basketball gym though, just in case I manage to escape you.”

“Escape me? Tired of me already huh?” Kise teased, dramatically pretending to be offended.

“Absolutely,” you joked.

Kise clasped a hand over his heart as though he got shot in the chest. “I am hurt, Y/N. What did I ever do to deserve this?” he recited.

“You know, the drama club is probably also looking for new members— I should show you their club room instead,” you retorted.

“Ha ha very funny,” Kise rolled his eyes. How were you two already joking around like this? He tried not to speak to you much, but it was like his charisma was forced out of him. Maybe he was overthinking it. You seemed nice. Maybe the two of you could be good friends.

And well, that’s pretty much exactly what happened. With the sheer amount of times you two see each other, it was no surprise that you’d become friends. It started with witty banter and random comments but soon, the two of you became close. After about three months, you were hanging out with each other every other day, going out for a bite after practice, going to the movies, walking to school together— the list goes on. And somehow, you never got tired of each other.

“Hey, Y/N-cchi, are you going for the field trip?” Kise asked you in between classes, referring to the yearly trip your school organises to a selected place in the country with a rich history.

“I’ll go if you do. But to be honest, I’d rather stay at home,” you replied.

“Well, we’re going then. It’ll be fun. There’s probably cute places to take pictures for Instagram,” Kise said.

“So I’m basically going to be your photographer?” you sighed.

“Precisely.”

“Sounds like a blast,” you groaned.

“I’m kidding, I will find a way to make this worthwhile. I heard that there’s a nice restaurant near the hotel we’re staying at, so we should pay that a visit,” Kise said.

“I’m exhausted just thinking about it,” you replied, resting your head on your palm.

“Shhh it’ll be fun, trust me,” Kise said, eyes softening up when he noticed how the sunlight that shone through the window landed on you like some sort of natural spotlight. His mind was about to wander off into a daydream when the teacher walked into the classroom, snapping his attention away from you.

The field trip finally rolled around and you found yourself in a fresh hotel room with a gorgeous view of the beach. Unfortunately, you didn’t get assigned to room with Kise, but it was alright since he was just a few doors down. As promised, Kise did his best to make sure you were having fun. You did have to take an awful lot of pictures of him, and sometimes he’d force you to take pictures with him, but Kise was always good company so you didn’t mind too much.

On the last night, Kise took you to that restaurant for dinner. “It’s kind of a fancy restaurant so we should dress up,” Kise informed you that afternoon.

“But that’s so tiring. Let’s just go to McDonalds instead,” you suggested.

“We are not going to McDonalds. I will dress you up myself if I have to,” Kise said firmly.

So in the end, you did end up dressing up, but you didn’t pack any nice shoes so you had to go with your sneakers. Of course, Kise patronised you for it, but you just replied with the wittiest comment you could think of, like always.

“Hi, I made a reservation here, for Kise Ryouta,” Kise said to the hostess.

The place was nicer than you expected it to be. It was a strange feeling being here with a reservation. It felt less like a hang out with your friend and more like a date. And for some reason, you were now nervous.

“Ah yes, right this way Mr Kise,” she said with a polite smile as she led you two to your table. “A window seat, just as you requested.”

“Perfect, thank you,” Kise said, glancing at the view of the night sky and the twinkling city lights below.

“Here are your menus, a waiter will be with you shortly. Enjoy your date,” she smiled.

“Oh, uh, it’s not a—” you began, but she walked off before you could correct her.

“Well that’s awkward,” Kise chuckled.

You simply sighed in defeat as you took a moment to admire your surroundings. There was a clean white cloth spread across your table with a candle and flowers as a centrepiece. It was a bit too romantic for your comfort, but you tried to shake it off. “Someone went all out for a simple dinner. You even requested a table by the window. How picky can you get?” You said teasingly.

“I just made a reservation in case this place would be busy. You wouldn’t want to wait in line would you?” Kise explained and you shook your head in response. “Exactly. And I got the window seat because I know you like to stare out sometimes. I figured you wouldn’t wanna stare at me all night long, so I got you a better view.”

You felt your stomach turn as your mind’s immediate thought was how Kise was enough of a view on his own. You had to admit, he looked fantastic that night— when he said he was going to dress up, he wasn’t kidding. It was a simple white button up shirt with a red tie, but he still looked dashing. Perhaps it was the fact that he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, showcasing his toned forearms that pulled the look together. Either way, you didn’t like the fact that you were viewing your friend in such a way.

“Oh my, what is this self deprecation? I thought I was hanging out with model and Generation of Miracles member, Kise Ryouta, not some emo teenager,” you said, your tone resembling Kise’s dramatic one that you’ve heard a thousand times before.

“Well, if you’re not going to appreciate my effort of getting us these seats, I can just ask them to move us away from the window,” Kise huffed.

“No, no,” you tracked back almost immediately. “I like the window. Thank you.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kise grinned triumphantly.

That night was absolutely lovely. But no matter now hard he tried, Kise couldn’t take his eyes off you. As expected, you’d rest your chin on your palm and gaze out the window with a faraway look in your eyes, and Kise could do nothing but admire how beautiful you looked. He couldn’t believe that he knew someone as amazing as you were. Moreover, he couldn’t believe that he told himself that he wouldn’t fall for you. What a dumb decision. But he was already this far in, maybe it was just that fact that he can’t have you that made him want you more. These feelings will pass, right?

As the two of you walked back to the hotel that night, a cool salty breeze flowed through the air. Kise had made you laugh yet again, and his heart filled with joy as the bright smile returned to your face. He could stay in this moment forever.

“I can’t believe this is our last night here,” Kise sighed once you simmered down.

“Yeah, this trip was actually kinda fun. I wish it didn’t end so soon,” you said, gazing up at the bright full moon.

“You think we can squeeze in one final adventure tomorrow morning?” Kise questioned.

“Where to?”

Kise shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Well then, I’d rather stay in and sleep thank you very much,” you said.

“Are you tired yet?”

“Not really.”

“Then let’s go walk along the beach,” Kise suggested.

“But the sand gets everywhere, it’s so annoying,” you frowned.

“It’s our last night. Come on,” Kise said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you towards the empty beach.

The two of you walked by the water where the sand was firmer so that it less tedious. It was quite peaceful hearing the waves crash against the shore as the water glimmered under the moonlight.

“You know, when I first met you, I really didn’t wanna be your friend,” Kise said out of the blue.

“How rude,” you faked a gasp as you playfully whacked his arm, making him chuckle. “But to be honest, me neither.”

Kise looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. “Seriously, Y/N-cchi? But why?” he whined, seeming much more offended than you were.

“Because you always had people following you around and I didn’t want to be caught up in that,” you explained, kicking a pebble around as you walked.

“Oh,” Kise said, realising he probably shouldn’t have said anything because he couldn’t explain his reason as rationally as you did. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you wanna be friends with me? Was I annoying?”

“What do you mean, you still are annoying,” Kise joked, earning himself another whack on the arm. “I’m kidding, no you weren’t annoying.”

“Then what was it?”

“Okay, this might sound really stupid, but I told myself that I wouldn’t go after the first person that’s nice to me, because that always ended up with people using me for something or the other,” Kise explained, stopping in his tracks to pick up a smooth pebble.

“That’s fair,” you said, trying not to overthink what he meant by ‘go after’ as you watched him skip the pebble over the waves.

Kise looked out at the horizon, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before turning back to face you. “You know, you caught my eye almost immediately and that was a red flag to me for the longest time, but you actually turned out to be pretty cool.”

It was strange seeing Kise like this. It was like he was possessed. He never speaks in such a serious manner with you. “Well duh, because I’m awesome like that,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

A gentle smile spread across Kise’s face. “I told myself I wouldn’t fall for the first person I had a crush on, but here I am,” Kise let out a heavy sigh, glancing back out at the ocean for a moment.

“Crush? You had a crush on me?” you asked, your stomach doing twists and turns that made you feel as though you were going to throw up all the delicious food you had earlier.

“Yeah,” Kise muttered. What was he saying? Why was he complicating things? “I hate myself for it.”

“Oh. Um, it’s okay,” you said, unsure what to say. He clearly didn’t want to like you, so you didn’t want to bring up how you felt about him. “We can stay friends if you want, nothing has to change.”

Kise looked back at you, finding comfort in the warmth of your eyes. There was no dramatic outburst like he expected. You seemed to be considerate of his feelings. You genuinely did care for him. “I don’t mind staying friends. But is it okay if I do this?”

Before you could think twice about it, Kise had his soft lips pressed against yours. Even though your mind hadn’t fully wrapped itself around the situation, you found yourself kissing him back. Kise felt you melt into his touch as his heart skipped like pebbles on the water. God knows how much Kise had been longing for this moment. To have his arms around your waist, your body pressed against his, and his lips on yours. He could finally get a taste of you and it was better than any meal he could imagine. This just felt right.

After a few moments, Kise pulled back to catch his breath, his mind racing with thoughts that he couldn’t even keep up with. “I’m sorry,” was the only thing he could muster.

“Don’t apologise,” you shook your head, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly. “I am absolutely okay with that.”

A wide smile spread across Kise’s face as his mind slowly began to clear up. Maybe his instincts were right this time. You were perfect to him the moment he laid his eyes on you, even though he tried to deny it. And as you stood in front of Kise with the moonlight glittering in your eyes, you were just as perfect as the day he met you.

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #knb #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko no basquet #kise ryouta #kise ryota x reader #kise x reader

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cozycryptidcorner · 3 years

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Abel the Asrai, Chapter 2 (lemon)

Tags: pegging, masturbation, dom reader/sub fae

Faebruary prompt:

To be honest, you were expecting to spend your first day on land inside a sex shop, after all, you had promised to help Abel find something he could use to find some relief. You did not, however, expect to be the expert consultant in the matter.

The little boutique is tucked away in the recesses of this island's designated red district, curious bystanders and sexually frustrated crewmen alike flocking to witness its various wares. The windows are high and open, letting a steady stream of sunlight filter through the hundreds of different phallic-shaped sculptures lining the shelves. It's the largest and most dependable store in your experience, and you plan on doing your own shopping once Abel is distracted. Or when you gather enough courage to do it in front of him.

He seems positively fascinated with all the different options, face turning a strange shade of teal as one of the clerks lets him hold the so-called Destroyer of Bussy, the damn thing as long as his forearm and as thick as a mast rope. It makes his long fingers look nothing more than a child's, swallowing up his fist and palm. You put an end to that debacle, knowing full well he needs to start out small and go up from there.

As you drag Abel away from the dragon-sized dildos, he seems to quickly forget about them in lieu of the far more decorative selections. Some of the more expensive examples are secured behind display glass, locks magicked against thieves. Cock rings embedded with pearls, handcuffs made from gold, the kind of objects that can't be used for much more than a show of opulence are snuggled in red velvet for the sake of being ogled at.

"What about this?" He asks, pointing to a maroon, glass blown object, one that's curled with bumps protruding on one side, suspiciously akin to a tentacle.

"That's a little too advanced for inexperienced hands," you suggest, "let's try to stick with a basic shape for now."

"And your hands are not advanced?" Abel asks, arching his eyebrows.

You try to brush him off, your own face heating up with embarrassment, "my hands are plenty advanced, but you can't tack this one to the wall to pleasure yourself with."

"And that's what I'll be doing?" He dares to ask. "I thought you were supposed to help me with my little problem."

"I'm helping you right now," you say, reaching over his shoulder and pulling down a rubber dildo. It's not the same size as the positively enormous Orc Cock Delight (trademark pending), far from it, but given Abel's slim frame and inexperience, it would be a decent start. "Here, this one's probably best."

As though inspecting its shape and sculpture like an art authenticator, he takes it from your fingers and holds it in his palm. Then, to check for its plasticity, he flicks his wrist, watching it wiggle with the movement, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. "Well," he remarks at last, "I trust your judgement on the matter."

"We can get the tentacle one too, if you like," you offer, "these are your wages you're spending."

Abel has also only recently been made aware of how money actually works when you're not some pampered prince living up in a tower. After some… hazing, you think, from the rest of the crew about some misconceptions of how one can't just go to the bank and withdraw a large deposit, he's a lot more thoughtful about what he says. And definitely more frugal, too.

You see his lips purse with frustration as he has to mentally tally what he has versus what he wants to spend, but you see a breakthrough moment where he relents. "Alright," he says almost sullenly, cradling his dildo like it's an infant, "this one will do for now."

"Good," you say, glancing over the selection of glass sculptures yourself to see if anything catches your eye, but you're mostly happy with what you already have. "Now we need to get you some lube."

"What for?" He asks, following close behind as you slowly make your way to the other side of the store.

"Trust me, you can't just shove something up a hole without a bit of lubricant. Ever had carpet burn before?"

By the way his face twitches, the answer's yes.

"Same concept, but inside your body." Glass vials decorate the shelves, some small, some large, each advertising a different benefit for its use. There are various massage oils, lube, and other select liquids that claim to aid with libido and arousal… Mouth pursed, you run your fingers over the labels, trying to decide which one you'd like to use on yourself as well. "This one says it's coconut and rum flavored."

"Why is it flavored?" Abel is also looking over the bottles, brow furrowed in thought.

"Sometimes your mouth goes where the lube is, and tasting honey lemon is more palatable to some." How does one get the taste of champagne in lube, you wonder, trying to figure out if you even need something infused with flavoring.

As though reading your mind, Abel asks, "which one would you prefer?"

Oh, fuck him, he knows exactly what he's doing.

"Why?" You ask, testily. "Do you think I'm going to be licking it off your poor little cock?"

Abel sucks his breath in, but you see that the barb did none of the damage you wanted it to. Instead, he seems…. Excited? Aroused? "Only if you want to."

Everything inside of you ignites, but you tamper it down. Sucking your breath in to ground yourself, you gesture vaguely in his crotch direction, "wouldn't be that great for you if you can't even cum from it."

"The long row of chastity belts seem to disagree." He points to the shop's opposite side, furthest from the windows, multiple mannequins showing off the various different styles available for purchase. "Might as well see what the appeal is since I'm stuck with one."

You don't want to admit he's making sense here… but he is. Wordlessly, maintaining eye contact, you aim your finger, watching him grasp the bottle without being told twice.

"You know," you say, walking leisurely over to the apparel section of the shop, "there's a lot of flack that comes from being the captain's special whore."

"Is that what your crew thinks of me?" He asks, running his fingers over a leather whip.

"You're not particularly subtle about it."

"Only because you weren't paying attention to my advances."

"Only because I didn't want you to think I only brought you aboard for the pleasure of wrecking your virgin ass."

He snickers but doesn't say anything in response, now looking over the different options to hook his dildo onto. Though, since it's really your decision, you begin poking around the mannequins yourself. Even though you wouldn't necessarily want something with all the bells and whistles, maybe one that's colored to set off your eyes? Some of the leather ones have been stained with various hues and tones.

"I just want you to know that I do already have a strap," you say, picking a new one out, "it's just not on my ship."

"So you're telling me," Abel says, almost completely serious save for that slight twitch on his mouth, "that you don't fuck every single damsel in distress you come across?"

You sigh loudly, heading towards the front of the store to purchase your tiny collection of pleasure toys. "Not all of them, just the ones that ask me so nicely."

Abel hums, and you sense a trace of jealousy aimed towards your previous bedmates, but he doesn't say anything more. Once the both of you complete your purchases, hiding them in your respective satchels, you hop down the steps out of the shop. It's just the afternoon, with plenty of time left in the day, but you know that Abel is quite literally aching to try out his new toys, so you let him drag you back to the docks.

"Where are we going?" He asks in protest as you take him down to the lower decks instead of your private room.

"Do you have any idea how many people probably ran their hands over that thing before we bought it?" You're relieved to see that no one's occupying the kitchen, especially since the cook isn't a fan of people using the giant kettles to do what you're about to.

There's a barrel of water already sitting to the side, mostly for washing dishes and scrubbing the floor. You find a clean pot and fill it halfway full of the seawater, setting it on the still lit wood stove to boil. With little ceremony, you rummage through his satchel, pulling out the dildo, and plop it into the water to boil.

In the meantime, Abel seems to struggle over what he should be doing with his hands. Nervously, he folds and unfolds his fingers, weaving them together and pulling them apart, only occasionally looking you in the eye.

"Are you okay?" You ask, and he jumps.

"Y-es," he mumbles, "just excited."

"We don't have to do this today if you're-"

"I am literally begging you," he interrupts, face blushing, "to help me now. Please."

Steam begins to curl up from the pot. You nod, poking at the rubber cock with a stick, as though that will somehow speed the process. "Just a few more moments, Abel."

Once the thing is done sanitizing, and in the safety of your cabin, the door firmly locked, you can hear his breath quickening as you pull out the different objects to start experimenting with. Slowly, you pull at the front of your leather fest, loosening the laces until it's wide enough to pull off. Your nipples rise, not from cold, but from arousal, hard at the promise of shoving that false cock up his ass.

"Abel," you direct, calmly, "you need to take off your clothes."

He obeys without question, pulling his shirt up over his head and throwing it on your chair. His body has filled out slightly with muscle, no longer a wiry frame of skin and bones, but he's still not nearly as stocky as you or the rest of your crew. Anyone on this ship could lift him over their head and toss him across the deck like he weighs nothing.

Already, he's so excited that he's erect, though the head of his cock is swollen with unspelt arousal and pleasure.

"Did you ever touch yourself after the spell?" You ask, coming up close, resting your hands on his bare hips.

"Yes," he whispers, eyes almost ashamed.

"It's alright," you rub your thumbs in soothing circles right over the bump of his bone, "I'm just wondering how this works." Pause, let him think. "Did you ever um… leak precum at all?"

He blinks. "I don't understand."

You try to rephrase the question. "When you touch yourself, sometimes before you finish, a clear liquid will come out. Did that ever happen, or no?"

"No, nothing comes out." His voice is slightly raspy, you aren't sure if it's from embarrassment. "I've always had to use lotion or oils, and it would feel good for a little while. Then it would just hurt."

"And you would have to wait until it went away," you nod, as though this isn't the first time you've dealt with such a stupid, controlling and abusive curse. "But the wording is going to be our friend, here, and many males cum when being penetrated without the use of hands."

"Thank you." There's an awful lot of hope in his eyes, so you bite your lip and pray to whatever god that might hear for your success.

"Help me out of my clothes." You gloss over his adoration, feeling a tightness in your stomach.

He gets on his knees, watching you for any twitch of approval you might give, and begins to unclasp the straps on your boots—one by one. When you step out of them, you don't even have to tell him where to go next, because he's lifting your shirt up and kissing your stomach as he works your belt. Carefully, he undoes the buckle, sliding it out and opening up your waistline.

Down go your pants, then undergarments, and you take the initiative to remove your shirt yourself. Now you're also naked, standing before Abel, just two bodies open for mutual exploration. His breath quivers as you reach up and brush some hair away from his face, dragging your fingers down to cup the side of his face. Slowly, as though you both have all the time in your little shared infinity, you press your lips up against his.

This isn't the first time you've kissed. The first time was after a particularly brutal sword fight that you had managed to win with only a few scratches, Abel practically jumped on you once you had kicked your opponent overboard. That one was quick, numb with relief and over faster than it started. Now there's time, locked away from the prying eyes of your crew.

Abel has kissed before, that you can tell by the way his lips move and adjust to where you lead them. You wonder if he had done it in some hidden nook somewhere in the palace he grew up in, under cover of darkness, all hormones and drive without the promise of relief. The practice has paid off, you decide, leading him back to your bed, gently setting him down, legs spread.

"Alright," you breathe, "show me where you touch yourself."

His face is dark and blue, mouth half-open, his tongue swiping over his lips. You get the bottle of lube out, pouring some onto the palm of your hand as he slowly begins to trace the outline of his cock. Propping one of your knees up on the bed, with an arm wrapped around his shoulder, you begin to mimic his movement, rubbing the lube up the shaft and over the head. Abel winces and whimpers at how cool it is.

For encouragement, you press your mouth onto his neck, gently nipping at the skin. "You're doing so good right now, baby, it's okay."

Slowly, you cover the entirety of his cock in the lube, pumping your wrist and watching it throb and pulse between your fingers. Abel was right, nothing seems to bead out from the slit at the top, his stones even quicker to puff up and become swollen. As he arches his back, leaning towards the mattress, his hips quake and shake, but where you might expect a ribbon of white to burst out of the head, nothing happens.

You suck in your breath sympathetically rubbing the tip with your thumb to see if you can't tease anything out, but whatever cursed him is concrete and binding. When you retract your hand, he almost whines, face bright with blood, tears threatening his eyes, lower lip swollen from his teeth biting down. At this point, you think, impotence would have been the kinder option because the brief sensation of pleasure would quickly be overruled by the misery of being unable to actually spill.

"Good boy," you whisper as he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, "that must have hurt, but you're so strong for me."

He lets out a little whimper, one you swallow away with a kiss. Slowly, he lays back against your blankets, letting you straddle his waist as you nip his lips far gentler than you usually would.

"There are two ways I can take you," you say, your tits pressed up against his chest, "like this, with your legs spread out, or from behind, while you're on your hands and knees. Since this is your first time, you may pick."

He squirms beneath you, his cock painfully hard and delightfully present against your stomach. As you drum your fingers right by his ears, you can see the gears running circles in his head, carefully weighing the pros and cons of each position while so aroused his entire pelvis must feel like it's being crushed.

"Whatever you don't choose, we can do next time," you offer, hoping that might motivate him to choose a bit better.

"I-" his face becomes more flushed than it already is, "I just want to look in your eyes."

Oh, he’s sweet, the little fucker. If he keeps this kind of syrupy attitude, you might just end up falling in love.

You slide back off the bed, planting yourself firmly between his legs. "Like this?"

"Yes… please." He adds the last bit like an afterthought, but he's learning at least.

"Good boy," you purr, gently rubbing his thigh. "I'll put on the strap."

He watches you like you're a prized prostitute putting on a strip show for the ages, irises locked on your hands as you begin to pull at the various buckles and buttons. Carefully, you loop his choice dildo through the metallic ring centered right in front of your pelvis, tightening the straps to secure it in place. Once you're satisfied it won't fly off once you start thrusting, you grab the bottle of lube and bring it over to where Abel lies.

Pouring some out into your hand, you warn, "this is going to feel a bit strange at first. Since you're not used to it, I will move slowly, but you need to tell me if it hurts."

He nods sharply, his breath quickening as you start massaging his ass with the lube. You're careful here, wondering if it might be easier on him if his legs were restrained, one hand firmly on a thigh while the other experimentally prods at his hole.

"You're doing so well," you tell him, pushing your thumb up into his asshole while he whimpers. "You're going to take this cock so good, Abel, it's going to slide right in."

After adding a touch more of lube, you push your index and middle finger in together, making a gradual scissoring motion to stretch him out further. His breath quickens, his hands clawing at your blankets, but he doesn't say anything beyond a soft, wordless moan. Satisfied with how his body seems to be adapting to the intrusion, you add a third finger, and begin to pump in and out in a sort of thrusting motion.

"How does that feel?" You ask, watching the way his cock twitches and shudders.

"Good," he manages to choke, his eyes begging you for more.

"I think you're ready," you nod, taking the bottle of lube from the bed and tantalizingly rubbing it onto your fake cock. "Are you? Do you want me to start thrusting into you, baby?"

"Yes, please," his breathing accelerates, his face wild and pained.

You stretch his ass out, careful with the head of the dildo as you slowly push it in. Just to make it easier on him, you pull his knees up, spreading his legs out further and holding them steady while he quivers. Then, inch by inch, you keep moving forward until you've buried it to the hilt, your hips brushing up against his innermost thigh. You stay like that for a moment, allowing him to get used to the object's size and intrusion, petting his thighs right where your hands rest to offer some comfort.

"Does it hurt much?" You ask soothingly.

"Just a bit," he murmurs, wiggling a little as though trying to get comfortable, "not as much as I thought it might."

"Good," you bump your hips a bit, just so he knows what you're about to do. Still moving without a bit of urgency, you move back, pushing your hips away, watching his face as the pain transitions away into pleasure. Then, repeating the previous movement, you thrust forward, a bit quicker this time.

"Fuck," he curses, "that feels… that feels nice."

At that behest, you pick up the pace slightly, still going significantly slower than usual, but still maintaining a structured speed. "You like it, baby?"

"Yes," he breathes, "I like it."

"Good," you keep going, watching his body struggle to stay still as you begin to up the speed of your thrusts.

He raises his hands to his mouth, biting down, so he doesn't cry out. You feel his thighs spasm and shake beneath your fingers, his body rolling up against yours as though silently begging for more. His eyes are shut tight, brow furrowed, a strange expression twitching at his face like he's experiencing a sensation that he doesn't know is positive or negative.

"I think," he gasps, his hips thrusting in their own accord, "I- It's-"

A thick, white spray of liquid shoots out of his cock, flying high and landing on his stomach. It doesn't stop there, though, seemingly a lifetime's worth of unspelt cum trying to escape while it can, a thick, hot layer erupting out and dripping down on his waist in tandem to your thrusts. You don't stop, either, especially not when he cries out, holding his legs firmly in place as he squirms and sobs with pleasure. Only once his cock falls limp do you stop, pulling the dildo out, and a river of lube drips down his ass.

He's shaking, as though experiencing some kind of awakening. As he props himself up on his elbows, he looks down, noticing the ribbons of cum that have accumulated on his chest and pelvis, then at you. After he sees some on his hand, he licks it, not to be coy, not to be sexy, but with the general curiosity of someone who has never tasted cum in his life.

"It's salty," he says, blankly, voice void of either dashed or met expectations. Like he legitimately has no idea what he's supposed to think.

And then he begins to cry.

You're so shocked by the action that you just stand there, dildo still in hand, as tears fall out of his eyes and dribble down his cheeks. Then you snap into action, wiping your sticky fingers on an available towel before threading them through his hair, pulling him close in an embrace, ignoring the cum that's now on your skin. His face is wet against your chest, his arms wrapping around your torso in a tightening hug, chest shuddering.

"You did so well," you say soothingly, petting his hair as he tries to get himself under control, "I'm so proud of you, Abel, you really did so wonderfully for your first time. You can cry if you need to, I know this was probably very difficult."

Before you know it, you're laying down with him, his body pressed up against every single curve and crevice of yours. His face is up against your chest, arms around your waist, and you hold his head in the crook of your elbow. While his chest shudders and shakes, you whisper and murmur a myriad of encouragement and praise, but you think that's only adding fuel to his emotional fire.

So you let him process his state of mind, remaining present throughout so he has someone to lean on. After a while, he quiets down, but he makes no motion to either sit up or start round two. To be entirely honest, both of you are probably done for the day, especially with how he's handling it, but you can't walk around with stale cum on your body. Once his breathing evens out, you untangle your limbs from him, waking him up from a shivering nap.

"Hey," you say softly, poking at him, "we need to clean off."

"R-right," he sniffs, rubbing his eyes, "I-I'm sorry, that was-"

"Don't apologize," you say, almost sharply, "that must have felt very intense, and you have a right to express your emotions."

He kisses you, slowly, lazily, and you cradle his face in your hands.

"We only need to wipe off a portion of this gunk," you say, unbuckling the strap from your waist, "I think that tonight we can spend some extra money and time in a bathhouse."

"What do you mean?" He asks, glancing down at the mess he spilt on his skin.

"There's this absolutely incredible bathhouse up the mountain, right where a hot spring is. The water is supposed to be three times as effective for cleaning and rejuvenating your skin or whatever, I think you deserve a little extra pampering tonight."

"Really?" He looks like he's about to cry again.

"Come on," you pull him up until he's sitting, "let's first get marginally cleaner, so it doesn't look like we've participated in a street-side orgy."

As he pours a bit of powdery soap in your tub of scrubbing water, you begin to unbraid his hair, brush in hand, running your fingers through his green tangles to smooth out the evidence of sex. He sponges his chest and torso clean, using smelling oils to hide the scent of cum as you begin to twist and knot his hair again.

"You handled this size very well for the most part," you say, using a pick to sharply part a section of his hair away, "I think that you might be ready to upgrade in a few months, we could get that little glass one that you wanted so bad."

"I would like that," he rasps, face just as flushed as when you bottomed out inside him.

Once you clean yourself off, you dress and leave, Abel in tow. The bathhouse is a large building, overtaking a fair amount of the presumably dead volcano that overlooks the bay. You've been there before, most of your crew has, but it's the sort of place that's so far from the docks that it's a hassle to get to. By the time you're up the cliffs, Abel is panting like he's never walked this far before.

You pay the teller, not bothering to make Abel take care of his own entrance fee. A wave of wet, sticky heat hits your face when you walk into the large marble atrium, the steam from the hot springs thick in the enclosed area. There's a convenient marble map on the wall, the building's outline labeled with thick letters.

"Where do you want to go first?" You ask, mentally wondering how they make the currents for the so-called wonderous whirlpool.

He points to one of the private pools, the side of his mouth twitching up.

"Those costs-"

"I can pay," he says, patting his satchel.

Okay, he wants to play games, you can get on that level. So you shrug, and follow him down the hallway, down the stairs to the long row of private rooms. After paying the attendant down there, you pick out a random section and close the wooden door behind you for some much-needed privacy.

Abel is already stripping bare, throwing himself in the water once naked. A window lets a small amount of light through its wooden blinds, only bright enough to see his outline. Once you're also undressed, you slip into the water, sighing with relief at both the heat and the scent of the oils. You settle on a curved section, probably explicitly built for laying on, and slowly begin to scrub at your skin with a bar of pumice you brought.

Oh, and Abel seems to be enjoying himself a lot, floating on his back, face staring up at the ceiling. He looks like he's in a faraway place, mouth in a soft, genuinely content smile. You let him be in his own little world for as long as he needs to be, satisfied with cleaning the last remaining hints of sex off your body while waiting for him to come back to you.

"You know," he says finally, rising out from the water and coming close, "despite everything else, I was very spoiled as a prince."

"No," you deadpan, "really?"

"Yeah- wait," he sniffs out your sarcasm much better now, "I mean, yes, it's probably undeniably obvious."

"Supremely so," you say, remembering how another captain asked you if you were holding Abel hostage because he was too goddamn refined compared to the rest of your crew.

"I was always told that I wasn't in a place to complain," he angles your body so he can play with your hair, "and I suppose in some aspects, that was true, but now I know that everything that happened beneath that roof, golden gilded or no, was… not healthy."

"No, Abel, I can't say that it was anything remotely so." Every time you hear about some aspect of his childhood, you're filled to the brim with murderous rage on his behalf.

"But at least now I can say that after living in the quote real world, I most definitely prefer this to that." You feel his fingers twist your hair into braids. "For example, your crew doesn't follow your commands because they're afraid of what will happen if they don't, they follow your commands because you've proven to them that you're a trustworthy and capable leader."

You open your mouth, but he interrupts you.

"Luck has nothing to do with it, either. I saw you dive after a freed slave in open water because she couldn't swim. That's not luck, that's courage, and those are the kinds of actions that your people take to heart."

"I guess," you don't like accepting heartfelt compliments, especially when you think you don't deserve them.

"Which is why," he finishes, pulling you closer, "I trusted you enough to ask you for help."

"And are you satisfied with the help I provided?" You ask, remembering how much cum he had spilt from that one single session.

"Oh, yes," he purrs, seemingly completely recovered from his near mental breakdown. "I'd give you a five-star review, but I don't think I like to share."

"Really? I garner that well of a reputation?" You ask, watching his hand slide between your legs.

"I want to thank you," he says, mouth on your ear, "but I need you to show me how. Teach me where to touch you?"

You suck in a lungful of steam, watching his long, elegant fingers slowly draw little circles on your thighs. "You're going to be walking all the way back with an erection."

"But you would like that," he accuses, entirely correct, "watching me walk back while so fucking hard I may start crying."

You believe you will, realizing that the idea of him trying to keep his fucking shit together while out in public does has some kind of appeal. So you remove yourself from his lap, hauling your body up onto the cool marble floor. Trying to seem enticing, you spread your legs for him, bringing your fingers down to offer up a clearer view of your entrance and clit. Breathing harder, you say, "Remember when we kissed?"

He nods solemnly.

"Similar concept, but here. Use your tongue and mouth."

With reverence, he places a hand on both your thighs, sinking down to his knees. Of all the things you've noticed about him, one of his better qualities is how he's such a fast learner. He kisses your lips as instructed, eyes flickering up to make sure you approve of his actions. When you nod encouragingly, he continues, opening his mouth to start licking at your pussy.

You lean back, pushing your weight onto your hands, lifting up a leg and placing it on his shoulder. "That's good Abel, just like that."

He presses his face further into your slick skin, kissing and sucking on the dark puckered flesh. While his tongue is only slightly rougher than you would have expected, it's not… painfully so, no, it's more like an added texture you didn't know would feel good. Up and down, he licks, capturing a bit of your opening between his teeth and gently pulling, if only to see your reaction.

To help him a little more, you push two of your fingers between your legs, finding your clit. "Here, Abel, lick me here, baby."

The obedient little thing, he does, finding it with ease now that you've directed him. He kisses it with reference, like it's a thing to be worshipped, taking your clit between his lips and sucking. When you hiss with pleasure, his eyes turn elated, like the two of you just shared an intimate secret, and he does it again.

"Fuck, Abel," you gasp, trying to find words of encouragement, "you lick my pussy so good, baby, it's like you were made for me."

"Does that make me your little whore?" He asks, voice thick with arousal.

"That makes you my special little whore," you correct, tucking a flyaway hair behind his ear.

He smiles lazily, pressing his mouth back between your legs, returning to work with more enthusiasm than before, flicking his tongue against your clit. Then, as though mimicking how you had opened him up earlier, he slowly presses a thumb through your slit, rubbing your inner, slick ridges. Fuck, he's a clever little bastard, and by the way you buck in his mouth, he's going to know it, too.

The pressure in your stomach grows, a wave of warm arousal dripping out of your core. Abel licks it all up like a seasoned prostitute, pulling you closer to the edge so gravity shifts your body down. He presses up, mouth and nose grinding up against your clit, now, adding far more pressure than before. You swallow thickly, trying to find the words to praise him, but thoughts start escaping your mind, replaced by pleasure.

"Good," you manage to croak out, "that feels good."

You can feel the smugness emanating off of him from making you speechless, his boldness only growing as you further spiral. As your hips start jerking, your thighs shaking, he continues to eat your pussy like he's a starving animal, the sounds from his open-mouthed sucking driving you positively mad.

It doesn't hit you all at once; instead, your orgasm comes in waves, each more volatile and pleasurable than the last. Abel must have sensed its arrival, locking his arms around your hips to hold you in place as you buck into his mouth. Nor does he deem you worthy of mercy, either, showing you every amount of vigor and determination you offered him barely hours before.

When you've ground it out, only plagued by a few aftershocks, he pulls away, a long trail of saliva and cum connecting his mouth to your core. And he smiles, he smiles, heaving for breath, lips flushed and swollen.

Slowly, you slide back into the water, legs weak and still shaking, right onto his lap. True to your prediction, he's hard, cock upright in the water, but he doesn't seem too bothered as you straddle his waist. You kiss him, taking things nice and slow, tasting the scented oils and sulfuric water along with your pleasure on his tongue.

"Did I do good?" He asks, digging for more praise.

But you give it to him, he deserves it after this kind of day. "Yes, Abel, you ate my pussy like a fucking slut."

His breathing quickens in excitement.

"I don't think the whores down in the red district could eat me out like that, and you did it on your first try." You pet the side of his face, running your fingertips over his pointed ears. "My clever, sweet little prince."

He nuzzles his face between your breast as you play with one of his braids.

"I think I'm going to keep you," you muse aloud, "would you like that? Would you like to be my bedmate from now on?"

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly. "Yes."

"Good," you whisper, tracing the path of his spine, "I think I can buy you that glass dildo, after all."

#fae/reader #asrai/reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #water fae

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vkelleyart · 4 years

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Thoughts on fandom: inclusion and engagement.

(Art credit to the kindhearted @penpanoply!)

There’s been some stuff floating around on Tumblr about strife in the CO/WS fandom, and though I haven’t been explicitly named-dropped on anything public, my DMs have been... active. lol Rather than rehash what’s been said already, I just want to impart a little wisdom and perspective in the hopes it may soothe frayed feelings and offer a way ahead for cultivating a respectful community. As someone who has been an active participant in online fandoms since the mid-’90s, which was the advent of online fandom content creation (shout out to my fellow X-Philes!), and who has also spent a chunk of her professional life managing social media for the federal government and for activist groups, I can promise you it’s all gonna be okay.

Here’s some context for why strife happens and what we can do to create a more inclusive and communicative fandom environment.

1) It sounds cliché, but fandoms go through growing pains.

In the case of the Simon Snow fandom, what was once a small and cozy space untouched by cataclysmic events (such as the release of *gasp* a sequel) has grown exponentially in a relatively short amount of time following the release of Wayward Son. Newcomers are eager to find a home in this space at the same time as folks who’ve been here a while may be consciously or unconsciously wary about widening their circle, and It’s important to remember that this is not necessarily an expression of bad behavior on either side but just human psychology doing its thing.

The byproduct, however, is that tension and stress builds over time from the lack of meaningful communication across the divide, which subsequently fuels misunderstandings. Ironically, the interfaces we use to communicate don’t help with this because any existing communication about the tension happens in tiny vacuums until a trigger goes off and bad feelings go public.

Way Ahead: These moments of destabilization are opportunities to see where we can be more self aware about how we engage with fandom and the kind of community we want to be. Can you promote, support, or befriend someone trying to gain a foothold? If yes, please do! Each person must reach their own decision about what they can do within the confines of their available energy, health, and time, but a little self awareness goes a long way as long as you’re honest with yourself and others if applicable about what you can contribute. Anyone who judges you for it isn’t worth the strife.

2) In a fandom comprised of vulnerable/marginalized people, it’s more accurate to say that cliques are “bubbles of trust.”

This one's important. Just by nature of the source material, the CO/WS fandom includes fans with a wide array of backgrounds and experiences, especially when it comes to those who identify with the characters’ queerness, mental illness, and/or trauma. I really believe––based on individual conversations/group chats––that the difficult lived experiences that so many of our fandom peers have endured has produced one of the most open, aware, and accepting fandoms I’ve had the pleasure of participating in. Our vulnerability is, in a real way, our strength.

That said, a community of survivors also has the side effect of cultivating small circles of engagement that I call “bubbles of trust.” When you’re a survivor of abuse, marginalization, mental illness, fill-in-the-blank, it’s often quite hard to risk casting a wide net and expanding your circle to include new faces––which can subsequently be internalized by equally sensitive and vulnerable newcomers as rejection, judgement, or inadequacy.

Way Ahead: First of all, there may indeed be gatekeeping and exclusion going on. But before internalizing someone’s cagey behavior as gatekeeping or purposely exclusionary, ask yourself if you have all the information. Many people are private (I include myself in this assessment) because life has regrettably taught them to be this way, and so they may insulate themselves to a small group of people who have earned their trust. Some people might also triggered by certain content (case in point: smut triggers my anxiety) so they don’t engage with it. Others might have something in their pasts that define how they handle certain subjects (for example, a person of color should not be tone policed for getting angry when confronted with a racialized microagression, however accidental it was). You just don’t know what you don’t know.

The solution here is to regularly check your privilege and ask questions in a private space if you sense you’re being treated unfairly by someone. If you go public with your grievances in hopes of mobilizing the mob, you may accidentally find yourself stepping into the role of the aggressor instead of the victim.

3) Social Media is not built to help you get engagement. It’s built to help itself make money off of you.

Repeat after me: Hits/likes are not a measurable indicator of talent or worth. There are ridiculously talented folks on Tumblr and elsewhere who, for whatever reason, haven’t had their viral moment, and it’s not their fault. Loads of factors come into play where things like likes, reblogs, and comments are concerned, among them being posting frequency, subject matter, the time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the year, the current administration, the stock exchange, the concentration of middle class users, who just won the Superbowl, a madman trying to steal an election and undermine the democratic process, a PANDEMIC, do you get where I’m going with this?? lol

At the end of the day, my humble successes have been helped along by good luck, good timing, high profile signal boosters, and an absurd amount of work. (This is why I try to signal boost new work whenever I get a chance over at @vkelleyshares.)

So while you cannot control Tumblr’s interface, trends at large, or your fellow users, here’s what you can do to ensure you give your work the best possible chance of exposure.

Have an image ready to go with your post. Tumblr is a visual platform (no matter what it says about being good for text). Not good with images? Set up a Canva.com account and get access to free graphic software with a gazillion templates to create whatever attractive image you want to attach to your post.

Keep the outward facing text brief and easy on the eyes. Too long and eyes will glaze over. Put excess text behind a “read more.”

You may think you’re being cute when you do this, but don’t put yourself down in your posts. (Don’t put yourself down in general, of course.) Doing so acts as engagement repellant. If you don’t believe in your work, no one else will.

Related: Be your best cheerleader. Confidence is a magnet, and if you don’t have it, go ahead and fake it until you start to convince yourself you are worth the buzz. So promote yourself! You have gifts that only you can impart. Use that knowledge to fuel everything you do from your art/fiction writing to your outreach with other content creators, and by golly, if someone’s done it already, acknowledge that contribution and then tell the world that this is YOUR unique take on it.

Treat your fellow fandom creators as human beings, not art/fiction/content boosting machines. I cannot count how many times I’ve had folks slide into my DMs with offers of friendship only to disappear once they realize I’m not available to draw a picture for their fic. It hurts because it’s manipulative and it makes me want to hole up and not signal boost anyone. Creators who truly support each other will not give off a transactional vibe. I want to help you reach more people, but not if that’s all I’m good for in your eyes.

The long and short of it: Lead with compassion, do your best with the opportunities at your disposal, and remember that fandom belongs to everyone in it. ❤️

What saves a fandom made of sensitive and vulnerable souls from imploding when it goes through growing pains is radical compassion from those who can offer it. Begin with the assumption that your fellow fandomers are not trying to harm you, and wade into the water knowing that your insight into the lives of your peers is limited by default and you may need to temper your words or actions accordingly. If you’re a content creator, save compassion for yourself as well, as there are indeed challenges to gaining an audience, and lack of engagement does not mean you lack talent or skill. Be your best advocate, and if you have the bandwidth to lift up a fellow creator and make a new friend, please, go ahead do it!

And finally, fandom belongs to everyone, and no one has a monopoly on characters, tropes, or themes. Create and consume what you love (with respect for your more vulnerable peers), and bask in the variety, my friends!

That’s all I’ve got in my head at the moment, although I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting. Thanks so much to @penpanoply for letting me use her art for this and to everyone else, hang in there and try not to judge each other too harshly. These are unprecedented times, and most of us are doing our best in circumstances that are pushing us to our limits.

As always, if you have questions or want to sound off on anything, shoot me a message or an ask, or ping me on Discord. It might take me a second to respond (thanks, Covid) but I’ll get to it! Love, love, and more love to all.

#fandom stuff

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natromanxoff · 3 years

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Most of you probably know about the alleged tape incident of Roger’s. After constantly getting pissed off because of him getting called as “dumbass”, seeing people trying to find and watch the video (let’s be honest that is actually a little impertinent); now I am able to acknowledge better how someone out there made up some incorrect version about this, maybe even totally fake, story and the misinformation had spread around. It’s actually getting even worse when the incident in question might not have happened at all.

Last month, I have come across and received the scan of another article which had headlines about this matter. And guess what? While I was only expecting to read pure nonsense again, there was more about it - I realized that it doesn’t tell about it as Roger giving the wrong tape and it’s totally different. The Sun said “it’s stolen" too but everybody around has been saying “he gave it”. Before I start, I’d like to point out some important points:

1. Be aware that this is, even though it has reached out to tabloids, a private issue. Whether the story is wrong or right, this is a story about a private stuff of them. Above all, Roger is already a private person himself about his personal life. Please be respectful at that if you ever say something about it.

2. You all use this story to mock him in some ways which I don’t really appreciate – it’s kind of like IILWMC –, don’t do it. I am not writing this down for you to change the context and make more jokes. My sole purpose is trying to stop this ‘gave the wrong tape’ accusation because I don’t see any source or proof regarding that. Send me if there’s any but I don’t think there is.

3. Always remember that these are only tabloid stuff. Most of the time, they are not credible or creditable at all. Those are the same papers which wrote all the horrible things when Freddie passed away. It’s hard to trust anything that those unreliable papers wrote about. But, at least, we’ll be able to see the origin of some details. Basically, keep in mind that this whole thing might not have happened at all but it also mentions nothing about him making a mistake - that part doesn’t appear anywhere on the internet actually, except on the words of fans’.

4. Let’s just not delve into this subject much more than necessary but only read the paper to see what it says. As I said, this post is written only for information.

We all know about The Sun article (May 4th, 1991). The one I mentioned now is from Sunday Mirror (SM) (May 5th, 1991). There is a couple of interesting points when you compare these two; that person asked for £10,000 from the first one anonymously and £5,000 from the second one by arranging a meeting; The Sun says they let the police know about it and some progress have already been made, SM says they gave the files to detectives the previous night; The Sun is somehow able to tell that the video was recorded in the previous year but also tells that it’s not known how the copy was made, meanwhile SM describes it with details. They make me nothing but more suspicious, like they are in contradict and something feels off. Did he request two different amounts of money from two different newspaper company by having only one copy to see which one will accept? Or were there more than one copy? If there were more than one, it makes me think that people would have found it by now. I am not going to question these anymore though, I don’t want to do that and it’s not my aim at all, because the main point I’d like to talk about and correct is how the tape has reached out to Douglas Lane, the person who tried to sell it,: by the man who was hired to do some work at Roger’s home when he was away. He thought the tape he saw on the shelf is a video from The Miracle album and took it home to watch so he basically ‘stole’ it because he ended up making a copy and giving it to Lean.

Lean claimed the tape had been “borrowed” and copied by a 47-old-friend.

The man had been hired to do building work at Taylor’s £700,000 second home in Kensington, West London, while the star was away.

He took the tape from a shelf thinking it was a video from Queen’s Miracle album.

Lean said: “He is a Queen fan so he thought he would take it home and have a look at it.”

And Douglas, who earns money in an unsatisfying amount, thought that he would get more by selling it.

“He had the sense to copy it and put the original back, but he didn’t do anything with the copy.

“He knew I was involved in music and told me about it.”

Lean, who drives a concrete mixer by day and earns £20 a night playing guitar in pubs, said: “I immediately thought I could make myself a packet out of it.

“It was my idea to sell it.”

Sunday Mirror writes that Lean said Roger edited the tape so that after those “sessions”, you see Breakthru video and he labelled the tape “Breakthru promo”.

“Taylor has no idea the video has been copied,” said Lean.

He said the tape was labelled “Breakthrough Promo” — the name of the band’s single from the Miracle album.”

I mean, really? I honestly don’t have any idea why he would do that. Why would he add a private video on a same tape with one of Queen videos? Why would he bother? If he did, why does he label it with that? Why does that worker get so curious about a video from 2 years ago? Maybe he didn’t have chance to see it in those two years, that could be the only answer. But why does he bring it to his home rather than watching it in Roger’s home? Surely, he wouldn’t see any problem at that as he’s fine with taking something that doesn’t belong to him. It’s purely a chance that he came across with something unexpected which will make him want to copy it at his home.

And after everything, this is apparently what Lean says:

But he insisted: The video was not stolen. It was just borrowed and copied.”

I can say a lot of words right now but I won’t… If all these things are really true, that is not an excuse of taking someone’s private stuff to copy without their consent, not ethical at all as he aimed to sell it and make it public. Ergo it was indeed stolen.

So, see? There is no “mixing the tapes and giving the wrong tape to a fan”. I assume this article must be the first place where that wrong version came from. And if it is telling the truth, there seems to be no mistake he has done here because his private stuff has been taken from his property unbeknownst to him. Briefly, we don’t know for sure if they had a tape and if it has really reached out to someone but if it did, then I believe this is high likely how it would happen.

It’s worth to mention that there is another theory regarding these news, that it’s been arranged to take media’s attention off Freddie. I can’t tell which one is true or if both them are wrong and nothing even happened, of course. It’s up to you, choosing whatever you’re going to believe in. But know that I can’t see any creditable source about him giving the wrong tape - so I wouldn’t suggest believing in that or keeping talking about it - and there might be more about this that we don’t / won’t know about so it’s only haste to make a judgement based on these.

Last note about something regarding him in general: Please, don’t take the different versions of this story and comments about them into account when you form your opinion about him because only those things don’t define him. Or the other way around, “if it’s Roger, it’s probably true - he would do it” attitude is not really fair when we consider that it’s actually you who chose to perceive him in that way by getting influenced whether by the movie or some ‘facts’ around - they do not reflect some aspects of him in the right way. Always try to find an original source. It is not always only him who would have his fun in those various ways, it is possible for any other rock star. All of them did some stuff - sometimes some really bad stuff - but it is not only Roger (I don’t mean the stated story here though, I honestly can’t see anything bad there). So him being the one who is involved in this story doesn’t prove or provide any authenticity. If everyone complies with that while critizing him or not approving something about him, it is always acceptable and welcomed, in my opinion. And that is valid about everyone, of course.

#gosh i have oscillated so much between posting and not but here it is #queen #queen band #roger taylor #roger meddows taylor

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little-mad · 3 years

Text

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 10

~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

What was going on around Gavin was essentially up to his imagination due to the fact that Rael wouldn’t move his damn hands. While he wasn’t really eager to encounter any more alteons, Gavin was beginning to feel claustrophobic with parts of Rael’s body surrounding him on all sides.

After the interaction with the guard at the entrance, Gavin heard Rael exchange a few more brief greetings as he made his way through the palace. It was bizarre, being so near to other people but being unnoticed or otherwise unacknowledged.

Gavin found it kind of odd that no one had even commented on the weird way Rael’s hands were situated. Surely at least some of them had noticed, right? So why didn’t they mention it? Maybe minding one’s own business was a big staple of alteon culture or something…

The din of voices, rummaging around, and clanging dishes that had been present ever since entering the building began to fade. Only once everything had fallen silent did Rael speak up. “I’m going to remove my hand now,” he stated.

Before Gavin could get the chance to try to prepare himself, he suddenly found himself bombarded with light. “Ah, god,” he complained as he blinked away the spots in his eyes.

Once his vision had recovered from the initial assault, Gavin carefully opened his eyes all the way. The sight he was met with took his breath away. Sure it may have just been a hallway, but it was the most stunning hallway he had ever been in!

The walls were made of smooth gray stone that rose up into arches in the ceiling. Banners of a rich blue color, decorated with a complex emblem hung from the walls on either side. Floor candelabras that looked to be made out of some kind of dark metal stood every few feet along the sides of the hallway--it was impressive how well candles managed to light the area.

The centerpiece of the room was the tall door that Rael stood directly in front of. The thing was made of dark wood that had been carved with intricate designs. It looked as though it would weigh a ton, even to someone Rael’s size.

Gavin had been in a lot of fancy places in his day--it had usually been while he was breaking and entering, but that was besides the point. The point was, none of those places matched the grandiose nature this literal castle possessed. “Think of all the riches I could find here…” Gavin’s thief brain was kicking in and he very nearly smacked himself as a result. “Yeah, like I haven’t gotten in enough trouble for stealing from alteons,” the more rational section of his mind countered.

“Hey, are you listening?” Gavin was abruptly jerked out of his own mental argument by the sound of Rael’s voice, which he only now realized had been going off in the background for the past few seconds.

“Uh--sorry, what did you say?” Gavin asked sheepishly as he leaned back to look up at the alteon’s face.

Rael blew out an impatient sigh. “I said, this door leads to the central part of the palace,” he summarized. “I also said that I’m going to keep you uncovered from now on.”

Gavin wasn’t really sure whether to be pleased or upset by this news. On one hand, he was eager to not be stuck in the oppressive dark. However, on the other hand, being out in the open meant getting ogled at by giants. Plus there was the risk of someone snatching him again… “No one's gonna try and grab me, are they?” He voiced his concern.

Rael’s expression softened so slightly Gavin barely even managed to detect it. “No, the palace is the most secure location in the world, you’ll be fine,” the dark haired giant assured him.

Satisfied with the response, Gavin gave a nod. He relaxed just a bit. Despite the many ups and downs they’d had together, Gavin trusted Rael’s judgement as well as his ability to protect him. Though the giant had managed to handle the Kaydin situation with words rather than violence, Gavin didn’t doubt that the guy would kick ass in a fight--if the definition in the guy’s biceps were anything to go by anyways.

To be honest, Rael would have preferred to keep Gavin hidden until the moment he delivered him to the Emperor. However, he knew that while the servants he’d passed by already had known better than to intrude upon a soldier’s business, most of the people in the central part of the palace would have no qualms in doing so. If he were to walk in, clearly hiding something, he would no doubt get stopped at least several times. At least with Gavin on display, everyone would instantly know the situation. Of course that may not prevent them from interfering, but Rael could only hope for minimal interaction.

After a quick glance downwards to ensure his passenger was secure, Rael pulled open the large door that separated the servant’s section from the rest of the palace.

The decor and architecture in this area, while similar to that of the previous section, was far grander and more extravagant. Rael didn’t even have to look to know Gavin was stunned by the sight. He took a small bit of pride in knowing the human was impressed by alteon craftsmanship.

The room they were in was the front entryway, it was where most visitors would first enter the palace. A handful of guards dotted the room, and of course, as soon as they all spotted Gavin, their eyes were glued to the little man.

Rael could feel Gavin fidgeting nervously in his hand, and honestly, the feeling was somewhat mutual. While Rael wasn’t the focus of anyone’s stares, he was still getting far more attention than he would prefer. Imagining what they could all be thinking about him made Rael feel sick to his stomach.

“Just...try to ignore them,” he advised himself as he began to walk further into the entryway. Avoiding making eye contact with anyone, he made his way towards the grand staircase that was the focal point of the room.

After ascending the steps, Rael was met with the enormous doors that would lead into the throne room. Rather than going through them, he made a right down the hallway that would take him to the Emperor’s office. The throne room was only used for official, large scale events. The Emperor was far more likely to be working in his office at this hour.

Unfortunately, there was no shortage of people milling around, and while so far everyone had refrained from approaching Rael, that streak was about to come to an end. “Ah, so this must be the human who attempted to rob Lady Elyth,” remarked a woman he recognized as being one of the Emperor’s scribes.

The scribe stood in front of Rael, effectively blocking his path. He sighed internally. Despite having no actual title, the Emperor’s scribes were well respected around the palace, and as close servants of the Emperor, soldiers like Rael were expected to defer to them. This meant he would be forced to humor this woman.

“Yes, I’m on my way to bring him to the Emperor now,” Rael stated, hoping the scribe would want to avoid getting in the way of Imperial orders.

Rael had to fight the urge to look down when he felt Gavin inching backwards on his palm. The little guy seemed to be trying to put some distance between himself at the unfamiliar alteon that was currently staring at him.

The woman gave a nod of understanding but still didn’t move. “This one certainly appears younger than the other ones I’ve seen,” she commented as she leaned in for a closer look.

Rather than jerking backwards as he reflexively wanted to, Rael remained still. He glanced down to see that Gavin had retreated all the way towards his chest. It was evident he was trying to keep a calm expression on his face, but it was easy to tell the man was highly uncomfortable. “Just hang in there,” Rael thought, wishing he could mentally send the message to the human.

Finally, after several long moments of ogling, the scribe pulled back and straightened up. “The Emperor is currently meeting with one of his advisors in his office, so you’ll have to wait until he’s finished” she informed him. “Anyways, enjoy the rest of your day, soldier.”

“And you as well, miss,” Rael replied. He waited until the woman had walked past him and out of sight before he started forward once again.

Gavin let out a deep sigh of relief, but otherwise kept quiet, which was for the best considering there were still guards about. Rael didn’t fail to notice that the human hadn’t moved away from his body. Even through his clothes, Rael could feel the slight movements that brushed against his chest. Were he not a man of fortitude, he may have reacted to the ticklish sensation.

After turning a corner, Rael made it to the more secluded area of the palace that housed the Emperor’s personal office. He was surprised to find the small sitting area outside the office completely vacant. Typically, there was at least one guard stationed outside the door so long as the Emperor was inside.

Rael furrowed his brows. Had the scribe not confirmed that the Emperor was indeed in his office, he might have suspected the ruler was elsewhere. But, since Rael couldn’t risk potentially barging in on a private meeting, he wouldn’t be able to check to be certain. “We’re going to have to wait,” he told Gavin in a low voice.

“Okay, yeah..good,” the human replied, not bothering to hide his relief at getting to postpone his impending judgement.

Being sure to keep Gavin steady, Rael took a seat on the stone bench across from the door to the Emperor’s office. It was only once he was seated that he realized how cramped the hand that was holding Gavin was. For quite awhile now he’d been making a concentrated effort to keep the appendage still so as to not accidentally exacerbate the human’s injuries.

“I’m going to set you down beside me, alright?” Rael waited for Gavin’s nod of confirmation before carefully relocating him onto the bench. Once the human was safely settled on his own two feet, Rael gratefully shook out his aching hand.

“Nothing like a giant castle to make a guy feel small,” Gavin remarked with a nervous chuckle as he sat down.

Rael glanced down at the human thoughtfully. Sometimes he forgot that in Gavin’s eyes, humans weren’t unusually tiny and weak creatures. To him, humans were normal sized--therefore he perceived alteons as giants. It was strange for Rael to imagine, because he couldn’t help but see Gavin as anything but tiny. “It’s quite large even to us alteons, if that’s any consolation,” he said honestly. “Anyone unfamiliar with the layout is bound to get lost.”

It had taken a good few weeks after beginning work at the palace for Rael to get a hang of navigating the expansive property. The winding hallways and innumerable doors made the place a virtual maze. He could only imagine how daunting it must be for someone of Gavin’s size. It would be effortless for the little guy to get hopelessly lost.

Just then, Rael’s attention was drawn to the office door, which had begun opening. The person who exited was familiar--he was a fellow member of the Imperial Guard. Rael quickly realized that he must have been the one who was meant to be on duty outside the office, though that didn’t explain what he’d been doing inside the room.

“Rael, there you are,” Ashryn greeted as he swiftly shut the door behind him before Rael could even get a glimpse inside the office. “I was wondering when you would arrive.”

Ashryn was tall and well muscled. His skin was a touch lighter than Rael’s and his braided hair was of a chestnut brown color. Judging by his broad shoulders and sharp jawline, the guy would undoubtedly make for an intimidating adversary.

“The Emperor just asked me for some insight on a few matters,” Ashryn explained, gesturing back towards the office. Rael suppressed a look of confusion. He had never really heard of a guard of Ashryn’s rank being asked for input from the Emperor himself. “But enough about that,” Ashryn declared, interrupting Rael’s contemplation. “I’m eager to meet this human criminal.” In an instant his gaze was upon Gavin. A sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and there was a glint in those pale green eyes of his that Rael didn’t like in the slightest.

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #my writing #oc: gavin stone #oc: rael

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