#good lord someone stop me while I'm ahead.....

[your-highnessmarvel]

My Wife

Requested by Anonymous: Can you do a one with Loki getting very jealous at someone flirting with his s/o and he walks over and drops not-so-slight hints of murder? And the s/o is just laughing her head off next to him. I really love your fluffs, they're fluffier than my grandmother's buns! Please never stop writing; your writing makes me grin...

AN: I'm so happy to be back writing fluff for loki omg

Warnings: Female!reader

*gif not mine

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MASTERLIST

You threw your head back, laughing.

"I didn't take you for the jester, senator!" you laughed, clinking your glass with the new up-and-coming politician before you.

He was a very young man, one of the youngest to be assisting the king of Vanaheim. Senator York was blonde and tanned, and by what you'd heard around the Asgardian court, he was very good with the ladies.

"Well, beautiful young ladies are prone to make my joking side surface!" he returned, winking.

You smiled politely, but you had a wicked thought of flashing the grotesquely big diamond on your finger. Just so the senator knew that you weren't one of the ladies he could be very good with.

"And what about a Mrs. Senator?" you asked, bringing your champagne glass to your lips and taking a sip.

York chuckled politely. "I have a few years ahead of me before I make president," he answered. "By then, I except the king will have a gorgeous display of choices for me to bride."

Which basically translated to, "I want to fuck until it's socially unacceptable to be unmarried."

You hummed. "Well, I expect presidency soon, senator," you encouraged.

"With such a beautiful sponsor on my arm, I suspect my chances are good," he said, another wink disgracing his features.

You felt a cold, dark wind at your side and something flashed green in your peripheral. "That's the second time in a minute that you've called my wife beautiful."

York's eyes grew wide at the towering figure of Loki, dressed in his royal black, gold, and green attire, short dark strands pulled behind his ears. He gave you a side look, and you could see murder in his green eyes.

"My Lord," York stuttered. "I was only admiring your beautiful - "

"That's three," Loki snarled. He took a dangerous step forward.

You put a hand on his elbow, culling his murderous gaze back down to you. "Easy there, tiger." Then you smiled hesitantly at York. "Excuse me while my husband and I go fetch something to eat?"

York nodded and gulped.

You pulled and dragged Loki by the elbow, away from the senator, towards the darkened corners of the hall.

"Loki, relax," you whispered, pulling him forward, pressing your red-tipped nail against his cheek to drag his gaze from his prey back to you.

He sucked his teeth. "He was definitely flirting with you," he stated dramatically.

"And?"

"And?" he retorted, dark eyebrows rising. "He's a little man who's been fucking his way up in court. He doesn't deserve your attention."

You huffed. "If I had it your way," you said, "no one in the universe would deserve my attention."

He closed his eyes and sighed, like a child trying to calm himself. "I just..." Then he put his hands on each of your shoulders. "He's just so sneaky and weird and watching him eat you up with eyes made me want to peel that receding hairline off his scalp."

You batted your purse against his chest. "Loki!" you gasped. "How rude!"

He chuckled. "But funny, right?"

You rolled your eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "A little," you muttered.

"Ah ha!" he said with a smile, so delightfully cute and Loki that it made you warm on the side. Heat at your core. "Alright, now let's go converse with someone a little less disgusting," he offered, taking a theatrical step back and offering his hand to you, like a dance.

You rolled your eyes but slid your fingers into his own. He brought your knuckles to his lips and pecked them. "After you, my wife."

[violetszone]

PlayStation VS Date

Charles x fem!reader

From this request

Summary: Because you didn't have a plan, you decided to spend Valentine's Day playing PlayStation with your neighbor Charles. When someone wanted to take you out to dinner at the last minute, Charles did everything he could to stop you from going because he loved you.

Prompts:“I’ve been hit with Cupid’s arrow. / “Why? Because I’m in love with you, that’s why!”

WARNINGS: Quick finish,not edited writing

You and Charles had a good friendship because you were neighbors. On Valentine's Day, you both had no job or plan, so you were thinking of playing PlayStation together. You bought something and went to his house, he knew you are coming, so he had arranged the game.

"Are you ready to lose today lord Perceval" he laughed and sat next to you shaking his head "You're talking too soon madame we'll see" you started the game, you were going ahead, even if you cheated, Charles was ignoring and sometimes even losing on purpose.

You got a notification on your phone for a moment, so you got distracted. You looked at the text you got on your phone. There was a boy you've been talking to for a while and he wanted to take you out to dinner. It actually sounded good, you think Charles wouldn't mind

You stopped the game Charles rebelled "Come on, YN I was going to win, what are you doing" you stood up and shook your phone "I have a date plan sorry it happened suddenly, we can continue tomorrow"

Charles left the console on the couch and stood up, "You didn't have a plan in the morning, who are you going to go with? Don't tell me that idiot you've been talking to for the past few months, please, the man is an idiot he doesn't know how to treat women"

You rolled your eyes and put your phone in your pocket You grabbed Charles's face with both hands and kissed his cheek "Sorry Charles, we'll continue tomorrow" you left Charles in the living room and went to the door, just as you opened it Charles closed the door, you turned to him to understand what had happened. He had you stuck between the door and himself.

the distance between you was too short You pushed Charles a little bit but he still didn't move "Don't go on a date" You crossed your arms over your chest "Why" he looked at the ceiling for a while as if hesitant to tell the reason he looked into your eyes again without realizing you held your breath “Why? Because I’m in love with you, that’s why!” You uncrossed your arms and studied his face, he wasn't kidding.

"I don't know YN it's like since the first time I saw you I’ve been hit with Cupid’s arrow.” You were really surprised because that's how you felt when you first saw Charles, even though you didn't want to admit it, you loved him too.

You opened your mouth to speak but the words weren't coming out, you couldn't find what to say."Your kind behavior, you don't stop competing with me even though you are terrible at games, your excellent cooking skills, your bad jokes and even that hair habit tick impresses me a lot YN" 

"Hey I'm not bad at games" he laughed and bit his lip and said "You suck" you whispered "I know" he put one hand on your cheek "I tried really hard to stay away from you and leave you alone but every morning when you go out on that balcony and look at me something happened to my heart, YN please say something" you took his hand on your cheek and kissed the inside "I love you more than you love me Charles"

You let go of his hand and hugged him and after a while you left him behind and walked into the hall "I have a bone to pick with you. Perceval come here, I'll show you who is suck" he entered the room laughing and continued the game from where you left off.

[lovemyromance]

Stop Kicking Elain out of the NC

She doesn't want to go. She doesn't want to leave her family. The cauldron turning her into high fae was unfortunate, but in typical Elain fashion (my favorite quality of hers) she made the best of a terrible situation and adapted to her new home, her new body, her new life. She has friends. She glows with health. She is mending the relationship with her sisters. The male she loves is there.

Why would she want to leave?

And if anyone brings up the fact that Cassian said she couldn't pull off a black dress - I swear to god I'll be convinced you've never read a book before. Cassian, the Miranda Priestley of Velaris, declaring Elain doesn't look good in black does not mean she is being rejected by the Night Court.

Do people not read? Did you not read how Nesta had to stand out to be Eris-bait, and if Elain, gorgeous, sweet, with beauty-that-could-bring-a-king-to-his-knees Elain was done up like the rest of them, the chances of Eris following after Nesta would have been slim? They had to make her look muted, to purposefully fade her into the background. That is ALL.

Now let's get into the even worse arguments for booting Elain out of the NC. Specifically,

She belongs in Spring (with Lucien)

She belongs in Day (with Lucien)

She belongs in Autumn (with Lucien)

Do you see what all those have in common (other than being surface level awful arguments)? They all center around Lucien. Who currently, Elain avoids like the plague. But I'm getting ahead of myself, lets go one by one, slow and steady:

Elain does NOT belong in spring

Why is this a thing, even? Because she likes flowers and Feyre said "oh elain would like it here?" That's it? Are we reducing people down to their hobbies now? Nesta likes books, should she also move to Day? Mor likes...wine I guess, should she move into a tavern? Amren likes puzzles, ship her to Dawn? Azriel likes Elain, let's put him in the Prison??

Or, oh wait, Tamlin should lose his court and Elain and Lucien will rule? How. Genuinely, how? Lucien is already an heir to Day Court & Autumn Court. How would the magic pick him of all people if Tamlin somehow dies/gives up his court? Wouldn't it pick someone...of Spring Court descent?

P.S Flowers also grow in the Night Court.

Make it make sense.

2. Elain does NOT belong in Day

First of all, right now, nobody knows about Lucien's parentage except for Feyre/Rhys and LoA (maybe). Helion doesn't know. Lucien himself does not know.

For Lucien to become high lord of Day, y'all realize Helion would have to die, right? Why would you ever kill off such an icon? And even if he just casually lives there while Helion still rules...a lot of things would have to happen for this to occur, like: Lucien's parentage is revealed, Helion accepts him as his heir, likely a blood duel between Beron/Helion over LoA, If Beron wins THEN Lucien becomes HL of Day, but if Helion wins then Eris becomes HL of Autumn...all of this would have to be covered in one book before they can even think about moving to Day and living happily ever after. You know, if Elain ever actually gives him the time of...day.

Don't even give me the "but Elain needs sunlight"!!

P.S. The NC also gets sunlight

Elain is not a plant. She does not undergo photosynthesis and need to go to the Day Court to physically be alive. Elain does not need light she IS the light. What's not clicking folks? Her name literally means LIGHT. Some variations say fawn/deer, but mainly she is light.

3. Elain does NOT belong in Autumn

This argument is more rare, but I don't understand it either. Why would she go live in Autumn as the reluctant mate to the 7th son of the awful Autumn HL? Autumn court cannot be this interesting to y'all, that you would be totally okay with not hearing from feyre/rhys/nesta/cassian/any of the IC, just to read a story about Elain avoiding Lucien in different climate/setting? Autumn exists in the NC too, you guys. She can ignore him when the leaves change color there, just as much.

And all of this, is only centered around Lucien. Because if you just asked this sweet flower child what she wanted, I can guarantee you, her answer would be to stay right where she is: home.

If she weren't mated to Lucien, would you still be sending her away to Spring/Day/Autumn?

This isn't even a ship thing at this point, like...Lucien doesn't currently have a home right now? Why are we tearing Elain away from her home to go live with a mate she does not want? If Elucien ever did get together, it would make so much more sense for Lucien to just move to the NC instead. Because Elain sure as hell is not going to live in her ex-fiance's manor, far away from her sisters, with a mate she didn't ask for and his rude bestie who literally made a r*pe joke about her (yeah, not understanding the Jurian & Lucien friendship here either).

Stop kicking my girlie out of the night court. She's staying where she belongs. If she leaves, it will be her choice. Not because her mate lives somewhere else. Not because she likes flowers. If she stays, it will be because that is her choice.

I thought it was obvious.

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Heya! Thanks for working hard to feed us with wholesome and hilarious dragon mc material, I love it. In the polls, I voted for something else and I just thought about how funny it would be for mc to encounter the dragon version of catnip?? Not sure entirely how that would work lol but just thought it would be a cute idea to see

This ask is so sweet, thank you!

"Are you sure Lucifer doesn't mind us taking MC for a walk?" Simeon posed the question carefully, watching the dragon's tail swing with each step the sorcerer in front of him took.

News of MC's growth had peaked the sorcerer's interest right away, it didn't surprise Simeon to have the sorcerer meeting him in town, on his way from the House of Lamentation with the dragon on his shoulders.

At first, he believed the human when he said he had permission from the eldest to take MC for some fresh air, but the further they go from the House of Lamentation, the more Simeon thinks about it.

Lucifer is far too protective to let the little dragon out of his sight without one of his brothers around, they see MC as vulnerable in this condition, so why would they let Solomon take the little dragon?

By now, he's sticking around because they eldest is already going to assume him an accomplice.

"Fresh air will do them good, you worry too much." Solomon simpered without a care in the world, as always.

Simeon signed, resigned to his fate, and followed the sorcerer out of the city until they reached a secluded little park. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere MC can spread their wings."

He tapped the dragon's claws, and MC immediately took off sweeping ahead between the trees with a happy roar.

"Oh...I see. Being cooped up in the house all the time must be frustrating for them."

Solomon chuckled to himself. "Lucifer hates it when they fly around RAD, he's worried they'll fly into someone's horns or something. MC does it anyway, but still."

"This is rather considerate of you." The angel tried not to sound suspicious, really he did, but the second he lost sight of MC, he realised exactly where they are. "This is the forest where those herbs you needed grow, isn't it?"

"Figured me out already, have you?" Solomon didn't have the decency to look sheepish. "MC does have a rather impressive sense of smell."

"...when Lucifer finds out, I'm letting you deal with him."

"Cruel, but fair."

The two carried on strolling ahead, meandering between the trees in comfortable silence, glimpsing Devildom blossoms. Simeon has yet to get used to the strange flora in the Devildom, it was so very different from the flowers he knew back in the Celestial realm, growing without sunlight.

It's not until Solomon stops that Simeon realises, they haven't seen MC for the last ten minutes.

Solomon called their name, magic reaching out, extending his senses, and Simeon knows he's found nothing as the sorcerer walks on with purpose in his step.

"Very funny MC, where are you?" Simeon called, already dreading the thought of having to tell the seven lords of hell that they'd lost their human.

The path passed an open field, Solomon almost marched right past it if not for the quiet, happy chirp that came from the tall wildgrass.

The sorcerer stopped in his tracks, and listened, watching a certain patch of grass shuffle conspicuously. The two crept closer, until they overlooked a delighted, wide-eyed dragon, rolling through a patch of slim-stemmed grass, rubbing their cheeks and wings against the plant while purring loudly.

"MC? What're you doing?"

The dragon blinked up at them, eyes blown wide, spread out on their back with tail swishing from side to side, almost like-

"Catnip." Solomon concluded. "Or the dragon equivalent, at least."

Simeon relaxed, assured that nothing was really wrong, he pulled out his DDD, and managed to get a video (intended to be a picture) and send it to Lucifer, just in case the eldest got worried about MC.

"So, what do we do with a dragon that's...like this?"

MC was still purring, now lying on their side, one wing tucked under them, the other spread up in the mess of grass, looking utterly blissful.

Solomon chuckled, gently scooping them up into his arms, despite their chirp of objection. "I think you've had enough fun for one day, little one. Let's go find that herb, can't have you flying around forever."

Part 7 (Finale)

[batneko]

Another look into the Knight and Lord AU! This time, let's see which other roles have been swapped...

Luigi had been… well, brooding was probably the correct term, wandering the grand hall and looking at portraits of kings past. He was examining a ruling queen and wondering if she'd fought for her position or simply been the only available head to put a crown on, when he heard the patter of running feet and the door burst open. From the corner of his eye he noticed Bowser straighten up and his hand go for his sword, but both of them relaxed when they saw the slim figure in yellow and orange barreling down the hall.

“Daisy!” Luigi exclaimed, a second before she grabbed him in a hug. "Oof! You're- Is it good news?"

Her face stiffened as she pulled away. "I missed you. Isn't that good enough?"

Luigi forced a smile. "It's good to see you too."

He tried not to be disappointed. If they'd found something he would have heard before she showed up in person. He knew that, and yet…

"So then why are you-"

Suddenly Daisy stepped past him and stretched her arm out, as if blocking him from view. "Prince Luigi, stay behind me."

"What?" Luigi said. He looked around her shoulder to see Bowser, still standing next to the marble pillar he'd chosen as his leaning place while Luigi brooded, though now with his arms crossed across his breastplate.

"How did you get in the castle?" Daisy demanded. "You're lucky I'm the one who came back, if Peach saw you-"

Bowser ignored her. He unfolded his arms (making Daisy put up her dukes) and pressed one fist against his chest, keeping his eyes fixed dead ahead.

"Sire, your permission to make a patrol?"

He was never that formal unless he was making a point.

"Yes, Sir Bowser," Luigi said. "You're excused."

Bowser bowed, lower than he needed to, and marched past them and out the door Daisy had left standing open.

It wasn't even shut before Daisy leaned over to Luigi and hissed, "Him?"

"Yes," Luigi said simply. "Daisy-"

"You knighted him? You remember who that is, don't you?"

Luigi couldn't stop from rolling his eyes. "Of course I do."

"Why would you knight him? Did he do something like- like saving your life?"

"Actually-"

"Because he probably set it up to get close to you!"

“I asked him,” Luigi said. “Personally.”

“You asked? And he said yes?” 

“It’s already been three months, if he was going to try something he’s had plenty of opportunities.”

“He might be getting everyone’s guard down!”

“He’s been nothing but loyal! He saved my life twice!”

“But why him?” Daisy demanded. “Why him, out of all people? After everything he’s-”

“You were gone!” Luigi exclaimed.

For a moment she stared at him, silent. He hadn’t meant for it to come out accusatory, but… it wasn’t exactly wrong.

Luigi swallowed down his feelings and tried to explain things calmly. “My brother disappeared, and the kingdom’s famous heroes are away looking for him,” Luigi said. “I can handle myself in a fight, but I don’t look it. People tend to think I’m a pushover. it’s better for the kingdom to avoid fights, so I needed someone who could stand next to me and look like too much trouble to be worth starting any.”

“So… you wanted a goon?” Daisy said. She, too, was making an effort to keep her voice calm and steady. “You could find plenty of people who fit that description. Why this one?”

“Not a goon,” Luigi said. “Well, not just a goon. I wanted a ‘loyal opposition.’ Someone with a different opinion about the way things should be done.”

“You knighted him to disagree with you?”

“Pretty much,” Luigi said. “As a leader, it’s always valuable to listen to the people that disagree with you. Usually they just want someone else - like themself - to be in charge, or to go back to what they think were better times, but sometimes they have valid points. Sometimes they’re closer to the common people, sometimes they’ve thought of things you haven’t…” Luigi smiled to himself. “Bowser… He cares about this kingdom. He never left, you know? And he could have. But he stayed here, even after being declared an enemy of the crown. He cares more than he hates.”

Daisy shook her head. “If you say so…”

“I do say so,” Luigi said. “And besides-”

He stopped.

“What?” Daisy asked.

“No, it’s nothing. Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” Daisy said, with a smile. “Come on.”

Luigi took a breath. “I kind of feel bad about this, but… After Mario disappeared, Bowser was the first one we looked at, remember?”

“I remember,” Daisy said. “He’d been seen around the city every day, he couldn’t have done it.”

“Yes, and… that got me thinking. Bowser was the most likely person to come for the throne now that only I was standing in the way. If I got him on my side, I’d eliminate the biggest threat and protect myself from the rest in the same move.”

Daisy’s eyes widened. “That is cold.”

Luigi hunched his shoulders. “I’m king now, I have to think practically.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Daisy said. “And if you’re right and he’s loyal, your plan worked perfectly.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better about it,” Luigi said.

Daisy clapped him on the shoulder, hard enough that it stung. “You’re sure though? I mean, really? You’re certain he’s loyal?”

“Yes, Daisy.” Luigi rolled his eyes. “I told you, he saved my life. Even if it’s only because it would lose him this cushy position, that’s still loyalty.”

“Saving your life is literally the least a knight could do.”

“He does more than that,” Luigi said. He felt himself smiling again. “He’s even started trying to save me from myself, lately. I’ve been working too hard. There’s a lot to do, but… mostly it’s just easier to work than think. The other night, Bowser practically dragged me to bed.”

Daisy’s eyes widened.

“That came out wrong.”

Daisy squeezed his shoulder. “Prince- I mean, King Luigi. Tell me you’re not in love with him.”

Luigi opened his mouth to deny it, but he must have been more tired of this conversation - and the dozen other conversations he’d had like it - than he thought, because what came out was, “Would it matter if I was?”

“Luigi!” Daisy exclaimed.

“I’m serious. Would it make a difference if I was- was giving him unprecedented access to the royal person every night?”

“Luigi!” Daisy said again, but this time there was laughter in it.

“Because you don’t seem to trust my judgment either way.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you…” Daisy said. "I guess… I just can't see myself making the same choice?"

“It was still mine to make.”

“You’re right,” Daisy said. “You’re right.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“So… why did you come back?” Luigi asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you!” he added quickly. “But you’ve both been sending letters up until now. What changed?”

“It is technically good news,” Daisy said. “We were at a dead end for… longer than I wanted you to know, but we finally picked up the trail again! Peach is trying to gain the trust of some people who might know more, and that’s a lot easier for one person to do than two, so I thought I’d get out of her hair.”

“That is good,” Luigi said. “Then you’re staying for a while?”

“At least a few days. I should check on the house, stock up on supplies, but none of that will take long.”

“Great,” Luigi said, taking her arm. “I want you to tell me everything.”

“Are you sure?” Daisy asked. “A lot of it’s… frustrating.”

“Everything,” Luigi repeated, firmly.

And outside in the hallway, standing next to the door which had never fully closed, Bowser had clenched his fists so hard he was trembling.

Would it matter if I was?

Would it matter if I was?

Would it matter

[sassykattery]

Dollface Pt. 1

In a world where magical objects sometimes end up in places they shouldn't be, sometimes even the most careful end up in precarious situations. This fic is "Dollface," a story about a particular demon falling into one of those very situations.

CW: The main character is afab, uses she/her pronouns. This story is meant to be somewhat curvy/plus-sized reader insert, but the main character is given a physical description, but it's not crucial to the story or mentioned often after Part 1.

Themes: Romance. Magic. Adventure.

Characters: Main Character. Diavolo, mention Barbatos.

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Enjoy.

Masterlist

I suppose this is what I get for opening that cursed text, Diavolo thought. Barbatos is going to be quite cross with me when I get back... Whenever that will be at this rate.

While the Demon Lord, his butler, and the seven brothers were visiting the human world, Diavolo had heard of and found a magical artifact exhibit to see if there were any authentic pieces. Often times, when these exhibits took place, they were full of fakes. However, he still enjoyed looking through them nonetheless. He was intrigued by reading the tall tales that accompanied these items, amused by the stories humans would come up with. On occasion, there would be an authentic item left behind by a witch or careless demon that somehow ended up there, and he would work to bring it back to the Devildom.

However, he was distracted by a commotion down the hall, and when he accidentally touched this cursed book before inspecting it, opening it just slightly, he found himself motionless on the floor, staring up at the lights on the ceiling and unable to move.

Hm, now, how do I get out of this? Surely there's a way to undo it...

The prince then began to cite a spell in his mind but felt the buzzing sensation of being barred from completing it. This curse had locked his magic, leaving him unable to perform anything to help.

Damn, this is a strong curse. I wonder what I am–

"What an adorable doll! I think maybe a child or someone dropped this. We should take it to the front desk," a woman said, hovering over the prince.

A doll?

"Alright, but hurry up. We're going to be late if we don't leave in two minutes," a man said next to her.

The woman picked up Diavolo, her gentle hands holding onto his entire body. He merely watched as he took in her features as she peered down at him. She dropped him back down to her side and began walking away from where he was once standing.

Oh, I'm going to be sick. This is worse than some of the rides at Devil's Coast, he thought. Ah, I suppose I won't actually vomit now. Still, this is dizzying.

"Hi, I found this doll on the ground and wanted to know if a child was looking for it?" The woman said, stopping at the front desk of the exhibit.

"Not yet, but we can hang onto it just in case when the kid realizes it's gone," a man replied.

"Oh good, here," she said, handing the prince to the employee.

Diavolo looked to see a grouchy-looking older gentleman holding him now and was quickly thrown into a dark desk drawer with little decorum.

Well, now what?

---

This is definitely not good, Diavolo thought as he stared ahead at the envelope he was in.

About two weeks ago, he was taken to some adult woman's house, still unsure how he came to her possession, where he was given a tag around his back left leg, sealed in a plastic bag, and sat to wait in what seemed to be an office. He looked around at the other dolls, figures, and toys around him, wondering if they had met the same fate as him. It was unlikely, but at least he could look at a few of them, finding some entertainment in imagining what movies or games they were from.

Then, one day, the woman took him and placed him in what seemed to be a mailing envelope, along with a card he decided to read as entertainment while he spent two weeks being shipped to hell knew where. It was in another language, but some of it he could read, as it essentially said thank you for ordering this product.

Barbatos is going to kill me, he thought to himself at one point. It seems I have been purchased and being sent to someone else.

While he was loaded into airplanes, thrown into trucks, and passed from person to person in this envelope, he was coming up with ways to apologize to his butler and the brothers, no doubt thinking they were absolutely frantic looking for him. Surely, all eight of them will lock him up in his castle for an eternity to work on his paperwork for causing such a fiasco.

Finally, he had come to rest in one place for two days, and that's when he heard her voice for the first time.

"Hi there, I have a package I need to pick up. I'm not sure if you have it or if the postman took it," he heard a youthful feminine voice call out.

"Let me see... Yes, we have it! From out of the country– Japan, I see. How interesting," another older sounding feminine voice replied, picking up his envelope and carrying him a few feet before placing it on a surface.

"Yes! I'm very excited," she replied.

"Just sign here."

After a few moments, Diavolo was moving again as he heard a "Thank you so much!" in a highly cheerful voice.

As he was carried away, he could tell the envelope was being hugged tightly, as he wasn't moving too much and felt pressure around him, though he could tell they were walking. He heard what seemed like a car door unlock, and the two swung inside of it, the door shutting and an engine starting.

Suddenly, he could hear the envelope being torn open, and a hand reached in to carefully pull him in his plastic bag out. He was faced away from the person holding him, looking to see the black interior of the car he had been taken to, taking in the new scenery for the first time in weeks. The clear plastic wrap was peeled open, and he was carefully pulled out of it, seeing an ivory hand with black, sharp nails holding him. He was then turned around, and he saw for the first time who was now holding him, the first new face in weeks.

Oh.

"Hi there. You're so cute..." she murmured a greeting with a sweet smile on her lips. Her thumb ran across his body and hair.

Diavolo took her in as well. She was an adorable blonde with intricate makeup applied to her face. He saw her glittering purple lids with sharp black liner, beautiful lashes batting as she looked at him. He felt that he would be blushing if he actually could with how she inspected him so closely. Her eyes crinkled with adoration lacing her gaze, and he noticed her darling shadow blue eyes sparkling down at him. He also appreciated her full cheeks and round face. Her soft touch wasn't unnoticed either, how she gently caressed his form, even with her claw-like nails. Her lips held a soft shine to them, small in size but with a pouty lower lip and very muted pink in color, now curling into a charming smile.

Well, it could be worse.

"I'm so happy to have you..." she murmured again, holding his body gently in her palm as she continued to thumb over his hair. Her hand was warm, and her touch was careful, as if he was porcelain instead of a plush velvet doll. She turned him over a few times, carefully pulling on his garnet overcoat, before turning him to face her again.

Could be a lot worse. She seems nice, at least.

He was then placed on what seemed to be the seat next to her as she started buckling a seat belt and turning on some music in the car. It sounded like pop music, and from his seat in the car, he could easily see her, watching as she reversed the car and then drove off.

Their car ride lasted for a little while, and Diavolo had the privilege of listening to her sing to the radio and pick up what seemed to be her lunch.

This isn't so bad. She's a good driver, her voice is lovely, she seems sweet. Well, I guess this is better than the alternative while I wait for help.

When they reached their destination and the car stopped, he watched her eat a sandwich, switching radio stations to a orchestral one. After she was done, he saw her reach over to hold him again, and he was face to face with her once more.

"I'll just take you to class with me," she mumbled. "I don't want to leave you in the car."

Class?

After a few minutes, he was placed into what he saw to be a pink backpack, and he looked ahead to see a textbook, calculator, and some other items he didn't quite recognize. The zipper closed, and he felt them starting to walk again, followed by a car door shutting and a beep to lock it.

It was a few hours before she picked him up again. He sat through what sounded to be some physics and chemistry courses, and he was rather impressed with her. She answered questions like a pro, and he was rather curious to know more about her. He also overheard her conversations with others, like her professors and how friendly they were to each other. She was clearly studious and on top of things, sounding like a successful student, but he noticed how she always seemed uncertain, or rather, he realized, how anxious she seemed.

It was finally when they reached what he thought was her car again, that the bag was set down, and she opened it to pull him out. She seemed a little tired, some creases under her eyes now, but he was distracted when she put him in the front pocket of her jacket up high on her chest, facing out to see the world ahead.

Oh, this is lovely, I can finally see where we're going, he thought cheerfully.

She put on her seat belt, reversed out of the parking spot, and off they went again. He took in the scope of her world, watching the soccer fields, parks, buildings, and scenery that passed by. She started singing again, now listening to heavy metal, to his surprise.

An intriguing human. As sweet as she sounds and looks, she listens to music about rage and death, but still in her lilted and soft singing voice right in my ear. Now that I think about this, this is an excellent opportunity to learn more about humans.

After around fifteen minutes, Diavolo watched as they entered a residential neighborhood, small and large houses whirling by as she drove down the street. They pulled into an alley and then a driveway around the back of a house, the garage door opening as she straightened her car to pull in. After putting it in park, she got out and walked back to retrieve her backpack, close the garage door, and then walk inside the house.

He tried to take everything in as she walked inside the house. She walked down a dimly lit hallway, and then she made a turn to open the door. He looked out to see a turquoise room. There were black furnishings throughout, clothes strewn in a couple of places, and what seemed to be a vanity with makeup, lights, and mirrors on it.

The woman set her bag down on the floor near the door and started to take off her shoes and jacket, but not before taking the prince out of the pocket while she hung it up. She held him firmly but gently in her grasp as she walked around, and finally, she plopped down on her bed. Laying him on a pillow next to her head, he watched as she pulled out her phone and began scrolling through it.

Diavolo felt a little bad for looking, but he was at a point where he could easily see her phone, right next to her head, and he observed as she scrolled. He learned her name, figured out her age, a little bit about her interests, that she was a college student and caught a glimpse of what she was studying, and that she loved to write. It took him time to realize what she was doing as she opened an app and began typing quickly. From what he could read, she was a talented writer, clearly knowing how to illustrate feelings and showcase not only interesting but well thought out characters.

She suddenly yawned, clicking off her phone and rolling onto her side, facing him. Her eyes closed, and he looked at her in his peripheral.

She's even cute while she sleeps, he mused fondly. It's lovely to meet you.

After half an hour, she was up again, bringing her backpack over to the bed to pull out a laptop, tablet, and stylus. He watched her with interest as she played music from the laptop and began drawing.

Drawing, too? She has quite a few talents, it seems.

She looked over at the prince, tilting her head as if in thought.

"Maybe I should draw you sometime," she mused, turning back to what she was doing.

I'd like that.

---

Diavolo felt the human woman stir the next morning, and suddenly another light came on for about an hour, and she was out of sight for that long, until she came back and he realized she had put makeup on. He watched as she moved around, and suddenly, he was up in the air too, her small hand taking hold of him to place him in her pink backpack again. And thus began another day.

The prince listened to her music, her singing, the lectures she attended, which seemed vastly more challenging than the previous day with biochemistry and microbiology, and rode home once more. When they arrived home, they laid on her bed again while she scrolled through her phone.

She sure seems to lay in bed a lot.

"Ugh, my back," she groaned, rolling onto her side. From how he was laid up slightly against another pillow, he could fully look at her as she scrolled through her phone.

Well, that would explain it. Poor girl.

"Mm," she giggled wickedly, a naughty smile gracing her lips. Diavolo listened as she scrolled through many different videos over the next hour, her laughs and cackles like music to his ears. He watched her nearly cry with laughter, how her eyes and brows gave away so much of what she was thinking.

This was far better, he thought, than being locked away in some office or drawer, bored out of my mind.

Diavolo came to like this human woman. He enjoyed her company, even if she wasn't always directly talking to him. Her laugh and singing made him smile internally. The way she moved and spoke entranced him. They were somewhat like friends then, at least to him, as much as he was learning about her habits.

A friend. A human friend.

Though, it didn't take much to steer his thoughts away. He had been gone from the Devildom for quite some time, likely longest period yet without a way to contact everyone. Likely, Barbatos and the brothers were frantic to look for him, and here he was, a doll living with an adult woman who treated him like a beloved childhood toy, even after just a couple of days.

But maybe, just maybe, this wasn't so bad. He was learning so much about humans from this experience, and he could just relax while time ticked on. And if he had to spend this time with her until help arrived or the curse broke, then it wouldn't be so bad. She was sweet, good company, and rather loving. She was endearing. He was at the point where he wished he could talk back to her, desperately wanting to interact, to see how she would react to him in his full form.

Then it hit him. Would she like him? Would she be afraid of him? She was rather short, so maybe he would be too intimidating. He knew she was an anxious person, so what if he scared her? What if she wanted nothing to do with him?

Or would she enjoy him too? Would she let him get close? Could they touch? Would she like him gently caressing her as she had done to him? It felt a bit unfair how she could just hold, touch, or carry him as she pleased, when he wanted to do it and more to her as well. Would she want to kiss him? How would her lips feel? How do they taste? Maybe he was just curious about her, and his nature was getting the better of him. Or maybe, he could see himself getting to know her and finding there is more between them.

These thoughts and that many more plagued his mind as time passed, occupying him constantly.

Hear me, denizens of darkness, for this curse shall be broken in parts. First, the demon shall in perpetuity remain in motionlessness and silence until the beloved human shall retain affection for the doll and vice versa. For the love of a doll is to place one's emotions onto the doll. Once affection is reached and matained, may the effected demon be vocal in their returned affection. Second, should the effected demon hold these affections mutually, shall the two get closer. Let there be a forged fondness for one another. Only when the human may voice this fondness shall the doll be set free.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @itsmeninerz @flemmingbamse @attic-club-sandwich @bite-sized-devil @marvelous-maniac @themythicaldisaster

Next

[haejjoon]

Hiiii

First of all I want to say that I love your art and I really admire it. It has kind of make me want to go back to drawing again. I used to draw a lot a few years ago but I stopped because I became unhappy with my progress. Now I want to go back to making art but I'm insecure about it because I'm worried I'm too old to start again (I'm 19) and whether I'm capable of relearning it properly. Do you have any tips about where to begin to learn art basics (specifically anatomy)? I would appreciate any advice.

Hello!!! Firstly thank you so much for the compliments, it really does mean so much <333

I'm nineteen, too! Of course you can start art again. I've taken a lot of breaks in between my own art, too, and it's only very recently that I started enjoying making art again (after .... like.... a year or two. lord) so I really do understand how you feel. But we're nineteen years young, and have so much time ahead of us to get back on our feet.

In my experience, improving comes quickest when you focus on one very specific skill at a time—and I mean SPECIFIC. Practicing gestures with torsos only, the muscles of the upper arm, skeleton heads in different angles. I've been studying arm anatomy (and only arm anatomy) recently, and I'm already miles ahead of how I used to draw arms in the past.

If you want a specific step by step on how I personally draw anatomy, I don't mind sharing a quick tutorial! But for general advice—form follows gesture, and gesture follows movement. The biggest mistake someone can make while drawing a body is focusing on the accuracy of the muscles/bones before getting the flow of the gesture down.

Even if the anatomy looks a bit wonky with the gesture, it's important that you capture the movement of the pose first, and then build muscle on top of that. Proko on Youtube has a very good quick drawing series on this, and explains it way better than I do, but that's the gist of it.

Also, PLEASE always use references! I know that hearing that gets old, but it's really important. If you'd like, I can make a quick tutorial on how to use references properly, too. Reference everything—pose, lighting, even art style if you're looking to switch things up (i have about 10 different tabs open on my computer with different artists I admire so I can reference their art religiously).

Speaking of referencing art styles, it's important to gather a bunch of artists you like in terms of style, and not just one. The trick is to separate them by skill—"this artist is for lining refs", "this artist is for anatomy refs", "this artist is for face refs", etc, etc.

And to jump off of That: I find that with anatomy, looking at other peoples' anatomy studies on pinterest is also very helpful. Obviously you should be referencing from real life too, but with art, it can be difficult to pin down what to put on the page and what to leave to the imagination. You wouldn't want to actually draw every single muscle in the arm individually, right? So I go and look at other artists' anatomy studies to see what they keep and what they don't keep.

(usually i find them on pinterest, and they look smth like this. the color coded ones especially help me.)

I'd recommend learning gesture and anatomy first, then building off of that to learn how to draw faces, then lining/coloring, just so that you have a solid base to work off on when it is finally time to color. (also because coloring/lighting requires a fair bit of how body anatomy works as well!!)

But yes, that's all the advice I can give from laying in my bed. I hope it helped somewhat, and if you'd like tips on how to do something more specific, I'm always willing to draw it out or go more in depth ^^ Best of luck on your art journey!

[sallage]

The Milkman - NSFW

The Wheel AU

Part 1 

Warning: This is an intense tickle fic!

Summary: It had been years since Bakugo had last stepped foot outside of the city. Graduating U.A. at the top of his class, interning and working for The Genious Office, and making a name for himself had been cake once Deku was suspended. The first few months, he'd hardly thought about the nerd. After that, not at all. What he didn't know, was that the life he'd grown acustomed to was about to derail in one of the most sadistic and twisted ways he'd never thought possible.

Pairing: Lee Pro Hero Bakugo, Ler Villain Deku

Words: 10,466

Reading Time: 41 Minutes

A/N: Holyyyyyyyyyy shit. This is the longest fic I have ever written. I had sooooooo much fun writing this and I'm actually kind of proud of it.... just a little(: Please let me know what you think! Enjoy!!

Read more ∘₊✧ Here ✧₊∘

The room was mostly empty. 

Bakugo was blindfolded, but he could sense it. He could tell by the way the metallic clang of the chains clamoring around his neck reverberated off of the walls. The bastard had fucked with Bakugo enough for him to learn how sound worked in a small room, which is why his heart was already in his throat when he felt a tug against the icy narrow band, which he’d learned the hard way, meant stop.

So he did.

“Good boy.”

Bakugo growled, a low animalistic noise from deep within his throat. If someone gave him one million attempts to predict his future, he never would have guessed this.

That he would end up a piece of meat for the nerd to fuck with for his own sick, demented pleasure. 

When Deku was suspended from U.A., Bakugo's graduation at the top of his class became effortless, with the internship and job at The Genius Office falling into place just as smoothly.

Once Bakugo had turned twenty-five years old, he had developed a high level of renown and respect as a hero. The final arc of his success was right there, literally in the palm of his hands. 

Then everything went to shit.

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

Reports of a faceless crime lord monetizing black market drugs and illegal erasure darts on the dark web were far from unknown. However, an anonymous tip had led them to discover a money laundering outpost posing as a trading card store. After years of coming up empty, Bakugo was itching to discover something, anything useful.

All they had to do was monitor the establishment.

Bakugo couldn't see the use of the three men sent to scout with him, especially after the store had closed, so he’d sent them home with a note reviewing the new tracker that had been implanted in their gums. The technology was new and not widely tested yet, plagiarizing elements of skin and bone, so Bakugo was confident that the chip would be missed if he were somehow captured and searched.

He’d spend the next several hours watching.

Maybe he should have gone home after the fifth hour of quiet.

It wasn’t until four in the morning, when a small sliver of activity caught his eye.

A lone person in a black hood quietly exited the dark store.

Bakugo recognized the possibility of a diversion, that the person in the hood was simply meant to draw prying eyes away from the store while other things went on behind the scenes. Bakugo had seen the trick used before.

But he couldn't help but feel… drawn.

So he followed them.

The thought to report an update was fleeting.

The hooded figure remained silent and unperturbed. Bakugo kept a safe distance in the shadows, his soft footfalls masked by the rising pitch of the winding river and bridge ahead. The figure's movements remained consistent and steady as they both crossed, the city now but a shimmering dot in the darkened distance.

They crossed into ghostly, suburban territory. 

After around ten minutes, a graffitied public school park looming under a broken flickering street light caught his attention.

A twinge of familiarity ran down his spine.

Distracted, Bakugo didn’t see the hooded figure round the sidewalk. Cursing, he rushed to catch up.

When he’d rounded the corner, they were standing in the center of the street, staring at some old, tragedy stricken apartments with their hands casually slung into their pockets.

Bakugo considered the situation, and his eyes narrowed as he contemplated initiating a confrontation. The very small and mature voice he’d annoyingly developed in his mind told him to think about his endgame. If he rushed the shady bastard now, he would tip off the villain operation and everything they’d learned up to that point would be as useful as dirt. He’d need to have reasonable proof and all he’d had was a stupid feeling.

Bakugo gritted his teeth and growled under his breath. He’d wanted to confront the fucker and kick his ass, but it was too early to have a full picture of what was really going on. The store could simply be that, a store, with nothing more to it.

He rolled his eyes and before he could talk himself out of it, took careful steps away in an attempt to slip back out, then paused. Maybe if he could catch a glimpse of their face…

“My mother still lives here.”

Bakugo's body went completely still. His breath stopped in his throat, and his heartbeat pounded in his chest like a hammer against steel.

The figure lowered their hood, glowing green eyes trained on the apartments.

Bakugo blinked. Everything else fell away from him.

“Everyday I think she’d leave, especially after I destroyed the neighborhood. Do you think she’s still waiting for me?”

He should have left right then and there.

Instead, Bakugo rose from his crouch and slowly walked out onto the street. Each step he’d taken had an undeniable ferocity to it, his eyes like two burning embers that could turn into an inferno at a moment's notice.

It was the fucking high school drop out. And he knew Bakugo was following him. He’d probably known it the second he’d left the store, maybe even before. 

“Izuku.”

“Kacchan.”

The familiar nickname wasn't spoken with the same fondness that it had once been uttered with, instead carrying a tone that made it sound more like an insult.

Gone was the silly, quirky, and fun-loving person that was filled with goodness and joy. In his place stood a dangerous, predatory, and threatening presence. In his eyes no longer shined the bright light of his once golden heart, but instead the glimmering of a cold and dangerous predator.

“Don’t do this! Please don’t let them take it, Kacchan!”

Bakugo scowled at him, his palms grew hot. 

“Why the hell are you here?”

He should’ve reported the update. Hell, he should’ve called in the entire damn agency.

Deku’s voice was steady, eyes trained on the apartments. “You didn’t like our walk down memory lane?”

Bakugo’s eyes sparked.

The playground, the river, the fucking card store.

Bakugo bristled. He should have known. It was obvious. “Answer the fucking question.”

Black tendrils slowly slithered out of Deku’s back. Bakugo’s palms sizzled.

“No one’s talked to me like that in a long time.”

Without so much as a twitch as a warning, one of the tendrils struck. Bakugo quickly shifted and dodged, failing to realize that Deku had simply struck the ground just next to where the blonde once stood, intentionally pushing him right into a hulking frame standing silently off to the side, who wrapped massive arms around Bakugo’s chest from behind. 

His palms crackled and sparked with the orange and red of his quirk, building up and igniting in a devastating explosion that engulfed them both in a calamitous blaze of volatile force. 

Somehow, deep in the heat, he felt a sudden and painful sting on the side of his neck. 

In an instant, the heat and power from his attack subsided, dissolved by the abrupt numbing sensation that spread through his body and left his hands smoking and twitching. His body tingled, all of his senses numbed and weakened.

“Motherfffuuhh-”

Another sting, and his vision wavered and blurred. He shook his head, fighting against it.

It was a fucking trap. Set For him. 

He’d known he was going to pass out and these fuckers were going to take him. He’d wanted to fight it with as much defiance and disrespect as he could. Profanities spewed from his lips accompanied by worthless sparks that popped from his numb, useless hands. His eyes seared into Deku, but the villain’s eyes remained locked on the apartments, not even sparing him a sideways glance before whatever drug they injected him with finally overwhelmed his senses.

He’d woken up in the same damn room he’d been staying in for the past week.

Over the course of that week, Bakugo had fought harder than he ever had in his entire life. He’d bitten fingers, head butted anyone within range, and spat. His mouth proved to be as dangerous as his quirk, but three days in the muzzle and firmer restraints taught him to use his talents sparingly.

As expected, they’d missed the tracker during the strip search. He’d woken up with it warm against his tooth, confirmation that someone was indeed looking for him.

So he’d reserved his energy, save for every few minutes or so when he would religiously check if the quirk erasure dart was still active, hoping to catch it before they’d eventually inject him again.

On his first night, blindfolded, cursing and thrashing, they’d shoved him into a chair and bound his legs to it along with his arms to a hanging contraption above his head. It took seven of them to eventually subdue the aggressive pro hero, all of them walking away with some kind of injury.

Deku didn't make an appearance that night, but the orders to his grunts were clear.

Extract any information Bakugo had uncovered about their operations.

Bakugo was expecting to be tortured. He’d mentally prepared himself for it the moment he’d woken up in this shit hole. And he was, just not in the way he was expecting.

Deku didn't want to dignify Bakugo with a formidable excuse for when he eventually gave up. He wanted to humiliate him.

For the first three days, he was brutally and sadistically tickle tortured.

When the method of torture was revealed, to say that Bakugo was flabbergasted would be an understatement. He’d imagined needles under the nails or flaying. Hell, he was even expecting something ironic like being branded or burned alive. So when he was finally forced into the chair, the last of his flailing limbs secured, he braced himself for the kind of pain that would match the reputation Izuku created for himself, only to be startled by harmless and rough fingers and hands, ticklishly squeezing sensitive spots on his body.

The pro hero sneered and taunted the goons, under the impression he was safe for the time being. 

But of course, he would be proven wrong.

The grunts took their time and expertly learned his body. They triggered reactions and sounds Bakugo didn't know he could make and tormented spots he didn't even know were ticklish. After hours of meticulous work and charting, they’d put the information they gathered to blindingly effective use. Bakugo learned a few things about himself that night, things he would pay top dollar to forget.

And he’d weathered the torture by the skin of his teeth.

The second day, Deku made a personal appearance, and cracked him in less than an hour. Bakugo answered every single question asked of him, relevant or not.

Still, it wasn't enough for the damn masochist.

Deku didn't just want answers from Bakugo, he wanted him to pay.

So now, in the fourth day of hell, Bakugo has nothing to say or give that would spare him from whatever Deku planned. 

Today was purely about revenge.

A hard hand clamped on his shoulder and the blonde blindly stepped forward, letting the hand guide him.

He swallowed his resistance and it slid down his throat like sand.

The hand lifted. He paused.

Then there was light.

Bakugo blinked several times after the blindfold was lifted. The intensity of the dazzling lights in the room made his eyes squint and nose itch. His eyes landed on a tall, colorful object planted in the center of the room.

The Wheel.

Deku had seen fit to inject whimsy into his revenge plot with The Wheel: a colorful 20-slice abomination that would randomly determine how Bakugo would be tickled that day.

A fucking Wheel.

 Bakugo sizzled in place. He wanted to rip the bastard’s guts out and make him eat it. He wanted to kill him.

Deku blew Bakugo a kiss and strode towards it.

"Let's see what The Wheel wants us to do today." Deku winked and gave it a spin.

Bakugo's sense of how much time had passed was determined by how many times the wheel had been spun: 5, and this one made 6.

The Kennel

The Carwash

The Gang

The Hog

The Milkman

The wheel began to slow, its revolution enrapturing both Bakugo and Deku...

The dial stopped on The Milkman.

The door suddenly busted open and two grunts walked inside, carrying something that reminded Bakugo of a weird combination of a padded sawhorse and a spanking bench. There were cuffs towards the front where his arms would rest and vise versa where his calves would be placed. Towards the back of the middle cushion that would support his waist and hips, was a custom cut hole that looks like it could fit…

Bakugo’s eyes widened.

The smile that slithered onto Deku’s face was maniacal. 

Bakugo clenched his jaw, continuing to stare at the contraption even after Deku smugly faced him and tugged at the leash. 

“No.”

Tug

“Fuck. off.”

Deku cocked his head to the side, an amused expression squaring his face, as if Bakugo was a stubborn kid not wanting to get into the bath.

Tug tug tug tug-

“You mother fucking piece of stupid shit. I said no.”

“I don’t care.” Deku slurred, playing with the leash. “You don’t have a choice.”

Bakugo remained still. He wanted to fight. He wanted to scream. But if the past few days had taught him anything, it was that without his quirk, resistance only lead to extreme suffering. The bitter pill? Deku knew his body better than he did. The largest explosion in the world wouldn’t be enough to tamper how he felt about that.

“I could force you,” Deku shrugged, reaching over to open the collar. “That would be easy. But I think it would be more entertaining for me to watch my men do it. And if they have to come in here again, they’re staying.” Deku smiled, encouraged by Bakugo’s visible frustration. “And participating.”

Bakugo’s eye twitched. He knew that no matter what he did, he would end up on that fucking bench. His violent objections in the past had made quick work of him. Just thinking back to that damned tree…

When Deku gestured to the bench, Bakugo reluctantly obeyed.   

“Take everything off and get on.”

This was supposed to humiliate him. To make him compliant to his own torture. A sick kick back to those days in high school when he’d scream at anyone who dared to give him orders.

Cursing obscenities the entire time, he stripped off his clothes and laid face down onto the bench, carefully fitting his groin into the cushioned hole. 

Deku restrained him accordingly.

Thick, fur lined straps secured his wrists and ankles tightly. Another strap looped around his waist, and an added infinity loop tightly secured his lower thighs right above the bend of his knees, forcing his legs slightly apart and flush against the legs of the modded bench. 

Bakugo clenched his jaw and rested his forehead on the cool leather as Deku circled, lingering far too long right behind him.

“You really kept in shape.” Deku whistled.

“Fuck off and get this shit over with.”

“Excited to start?”

Bakugo jerked when he felt something ghosting lightly along both of his flanks, and he instantly knew it was Blackwhip. The touch felt feathery and ethereal, like cool fingers made of harmless, tickly sparklers. He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek, grateful Deku couldn't see his face from this position.

“We have so much to catch up on.”

The ghosting along his sides curved inward, tracing and slithering over his stomach and hips. It slowly dragged back and forth, up and down over the smooth skin, making Bakugo want to claw it off.

The way he was positioned arched his back slightly, so he couldn't close that small gap that gave Deku easy access to those spots. The fucking bastard.

“We don’t have shit to do with nothin’.” Bakugo spat through his teeth, uselessly forcing himself to stay as still as possible. His stomach muscles twitched of their own accord though, instantly snitching on his stoic facade. 

“I think we do. I plan to make up for lots of lost time, Kacchan.” He goosed his ribs.

Bakugo flinched and clenched his jaw so tight, he felt the hurt in his neck. “Stop fucking calling me that.”

“Mmm. It never bothered you before. What’s different now?” 

Bakugo ground his teeth together. He jumped when he felt more tendrils start teasing the muscles on his back, tracing agonizing patterns and small circles right underneath his shoulder blades. A lone tendril slithered up his spine, slowing down just enough to trigger an involuntary lurching reaction Bakugo did every time he was touched right below the back of his neck. 

“You ffffucking-”

“Whats different now?” Deku repeated, sliding two tendrils up his spine this time.

Bakugo tensed his entire body and cringed, waiting for the tendrils to touch down on that stupid spot. Instead, he jumped when he felt them split up and caress over the top of his shoulders, tracing down to the little dip that made up the corners of his armpits. Bakugo’s arms strained, trying to push them back into himself and close the gap.

“I called you Kacchan our entire lives.” More tendrils pushed out from his back, wrapping around each of his ribs, softly vibrating in place, still tracing. Randomly, one would squeeze.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me to stop.”

Bakugo inhaled sharply when he felt the tendrils at his shoulder blades slither down his back, the slow trek brought a curse to his lips. 

Deku didn't speak again until it teased around his lower back and touched down on his ass. 

Deku drew long and sensual circles along the soft, toned skin, causing Bakugo to twitch and huff puffs of air through his nose. Discovering his ass was ticklish was one of the things he would die to forget.

Deku’s voice was low. “The question wasn't rhetorical.” A firm squeeze to his ass made him him jump. “Or optional.”

Bakugo snarled. “Fuck off, you piece of shit.”

Deku chuckled and Bakugo seized when all of the tendrils started moving in different directions at once, all of them teasing the fuck out of him. Circles were drawn on either sides of his back, tendrils pressed inward towards his shoulder blades, along his spine, and behind his flanks. Two wafted up and down his stomach in different patterns with two more teasing the edges of his stomach. Two ghosted the rim of his armpits, occasionally dipping in smoothly, making him jump. Two teased his hipbones, occasionally dipping inward towards the inner thighs, tracing the crease right before his thighs became his crotch. The two on his ass stroked abstractly, making him twitch with each pass. He felt two additional tendrils ghost the back of his thighs and the hollows behind his knees.

He was moving around a lot now. Frustrated noises and loud puffs of air through his nose were quiet in comparison to how loud he made the bench squeak with his erratic movements. The occasional gasp left him when the tendrils tracing his ribs moved inward, playing with the sensitive spot right underneath his pecs, or that delicious spot right underneath his underarms. The occasional squeeze anywhere on his body forced him to jump. Regardless of sensitivity, all of his nerves were absolutely on fire.

 He bit the inside of his cheek when he felt two new tendrils slowly ghosting down his calves, stopping just over the heels of his feet. The only ones on his body not moving, and he was hyper aware of it.

Deku let Bakugo stew, watching the blonde lose more of his composure with every passing second. Bakugo pushed his head against the cool leather and balled his hands into shaking fists, his body starting to work up a sweat.

This was the kind of tickling he hadn’t experienced yet. It didn't make him hysterical, didn't make him scream until his throat hurt, and didn't make him thrash like his life depended on it, but it made him want to claw his fucking skin off. It tickled so fucking much, but it wasn't nearly intense enough for him to justify letting out any of the building tension through laughter. He couldn't fucking stand it.

For a hot five seconds, he went berserk on the bench. He yanked hard and bucked attempting to kick and thrash. Spittle flew from his clenched teeth and he growled when Deku watched him with a smirk, using the tendrils on the sides of his stomach to dip into a pocket of sensitive nerves right by his flanks. 

Bakugo dipped his shoulder inward and to the left, as if he could close off the gap that allowed Deku entrance. He groaned out loud and used his arms to buck once, twice, before being so fed up he couldn't handle it anymore.

“Fucking stop already!” He boomed. “If you’re gonna do it, then fucking get it over with, you pathetic coward!” The slow and methodical sensations were making him so fucking frustrated. He couldn't help the way his back arched, the way his head snapped back when the tendrils behind it slithered too close to his neck, the way his shoulders and arms jerked violently in an attempt shake off the tendrils, or the way his toes flexed and splayed regardless of the threat that ominously loomed inches away.

Deku chuckled again. “You’re so ticklish.”

Bakugo cursed when he felt two tendrils slowly gliding up the insides of his thighs. They traced the sensitive skin right next to his balls, curving up and down, spreading out and caressing the skin under his ass and back again. Bakugo spluttered and yanked hard at the restraints, the ticklish muscles in his arms flexing under the mischievous and ethereal touch of Blackwhip.

“You fucking loser ass villain bah-” The tendrils on his feet twitched. Bakugo’s mouth clamped shut.

“Hm?” Deku hummed, leaning his ear toward the heaving blonde.

“Fucker.” Bakugo cursed. “What the hell is it you want from me?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.” Deku gleefully mocked. 

“You’re a goddamn fucking moh-morohon!” Bakugo cursed, busying himself with another bout of frustrated thrashing when more tendrils swirled under his arms. “I’m not playing your backward ass games!”

Deku smirked. Without letting up on Bakugo’s treatment, he grabbed a chair and sat right next to the blonde, who had to tilt and rest his head on his left cheek to look Deku in the eyes.

“You’ll do whatever I want you to do.” He slurred, kicking his foot up on the edge of the bench where Bakugo’s shaking arm rested. 

The tendrils around his ribs prodded firmly. Bakugo flinched hard, unable to hold back the gasp that choked him.

“The day I got suspended from U.A.,” Deku’s eyes roamed shamelessly over Bakugo’s trembling body. The blonde straightened his head and closed his eyes, still painfully aware the tendrils on his feet were still as stone. Anxiety bubbled up in his throat. He knew Deku did it just to fuck with him. He fucking knew it.

“I begged you to help me.”

“K-Kacchan? Wait, Kacchan! No! STOP! PLEASE!”

“Grrh! The school hahas rules, dumbass! Not my ff-fuckin’ fault you weh-went and broke ‘em!” Bakugo snapped. The damn tendrils never stopped moving, always switching places and finding new spots on his infinitely ticklish body. He was going to throw an aneurysm if it didn't stop.

Deku’s eyes darkened. “Not your fault, huh?”

Bakugo sneered. He couldn’t focus! “Damn it! If you got somethin’ to say, just fuckin- GAH!”

The tendrils on his heels traced slowly down his foot, spilling down his arch and wiggling slowly like a snake, tracing over his incepts, the sides of his feet, wrapping around to the tops and circling their tips around the balls. 

Bakugo released a large puff of air and slammed his forehead against the leather, breathing harshly through his teeth. He yanked hard on his arms, face turning red with titanium effort. He jolted and grimaced when two tendrils slithered under his toes, the others still circling along and around the balls of his feet. Just a ghost of a sensation, but it psyched the fuck out of him.

Two more tendrils, parallel of each other, traced down the sides of his feet, looped around down to the heal, then zipped up to the toes, following the outline of the undersides and back again to repeat. Two other tendrils appeared and started tracing the ticklish spot along where the arch melts into the heal and then two other tendrils outlined his calves and ankles.

Bakugo lifted his forehead just to slammed it again against the leather rest, frustrated agony sizzling at the corners of his mouth.

Deku smirked, reveling in Bakugo’s priceless reactions. “You’re acting like I’m shoving a burning knife through your gut. I bet you would prefer that.”

Bakugo huffed and growled, sweat dripping off his heated skin. “What… do you gohddamn… aaghh- want?!”

“Let’s play a game!” Deku quickly stood, knocking over the chair. All of the tendrils finally, finally stopped and Bakugo shamelessly let his entire body flop onto the bench. He barely took two much needed breaths before Deku whistled. Bakugo heard the door open behind him, but he was too exhausted to attempt to look. That was, until he felt someone crouch underneath the bench. His head jolted up and he was about to speak when he felt something wet squishy and warm envelop his entire manhood. Bakugo jerked up so hard he actually moved the bench slightly.

“What the fuck! What the fuck?!” Bakugo screeched, thrashing heavily again as the person underneath the bench fitted the squishy thing over Bakugo’s penis and balls. The person then stood and pulled two straps around Bakugo’s waist, tying them in a neat little bow above his ass. Bakugo saw a tan hand pass Deku a controller and without a word, whoever it was, left and closed the door behind them.

Deku palmed the controller, observing it as if he were a critic admiring a strokeless painting. Bakugo’s face turned red with anger, embarrassment, and everything in-between.

“What the fuck is that? What did your perverted ass minion put on me?! Answer me, damn it!” 

“These are the rules of the game,” Deku started, ignoring Bakugo’s whining. “First, if it’s not obvious, I’ll be tickling any spot of my choosing.”

Bakugo glared at him. “What the fuck is on my dick?!”

Deku smiled. He turned the controller and Bakugo strained to see it. It looked like a TV remote but it only had eight buttons on it. One circle button in the middle with four arrows around it. There were two buttons parallel to each other below it and one button at the top.

Deku rose his pointer finger, and made a show of pressing the top button.

The on button.

Bakugo flinched with a disgusted yelp when the thing around his cock and balls started vibrating. He anchored his back and tried to pull his penis out of the hole but he couldn't lift himself high enough.

“You’re fucking kidding me!” He screamed, a whole new wave of frustration coursing through him. “You have to be fucking kidding me!” Another bout of useless thrashing. He whipped his head towards Deku, sneering at him with all the hate he could muster. “You’re fucking dead! Do you hear me? When I get the fuck out of here, you’re- AHHH!”

Deku yawned and pressed the middle button. The squishy material Bakugo was encased in started moving. It squeezed and pressed and massaged in a sloping downward fashion, simulating a blowjob with winnowing pressure that caressed his entire length. The space that enveloped his balls started gently squeezing them, massaging them softly. Then, around his scrotum, he felt a circular object like thing close tightly, acting like some sort of cock ring.

It felt… amazing.

After almost an entire week of torture, Bakugo almost succumbed to the sensations right there, despite the makeshift ring. 

Instead, he bit back his carnal reactions and pressed his forehead onto the head rest. “N- St-stop… Fffuckin’-” He groaned and bit his tongue.

“Enduring the tickling will be something you’ll have to do. What you’ll not have to do will be so much harder. Get it?”

Bakugo growled, trying to think about anything other than what his body wanted to do right now. He felt his manhood instantly get harder, more susceptible and sensitive.

“Why… why the damn-”

“I’m glad you asked.” Deku’s green eyes sparkled. “If you cum while I’m tickling you, you cant cum again on that spot for the rest of the game. If you cum twice on the same spot, you lose. If you win,” Deku shrugged again. “I’ll let you go.”

Bakugo hardly heard anything until those last four words. “What?”

“If you win,” Deku enunciated, punctuating the sentence with a careless gesture. “I’ll let you go.”

A chance. A fucking chance. He knew he couldn't rely on Deku’s word, but it was the only opportunity to present itself in this goddamn nightmare.

“Not like I… have a fuckin’ choice.” Bakugo groaned, using every ounce of energy he had not to lose the game before it could even start. 

Deku grinned. “We’ll do two rounds.”

Bakugo assumed once the tickling started, it would be easy not to focus on the thing doubling his vision. It was the only silver lining he could think of, the only hope that he could cling on to. 

Funny how he suddenly needed the tickling to overwhelm his pleasure.

“Alright!” Deku clapped his hands together. “Let’s start.”

“Set a.. Grrhh- S-set a fuckin’ timer.”

Deku tapped his temple. “It’s up here.” 

Bakugo was about to protest, but closed his mouth when Deku, with a diabolical grin, slowly unsheathed Blackwhip. The blonde watched with disgust as inky tendrils slinked toward him with twitching excitement and intent.

They touched down on his left side first, caressing his flanks and ribs and slipping softly under his arms. He cringed, the pumping sensation on his dick still prevalent. He flinched when a tendril squeezed his hips and ribs at the same time. 

“You… fuck… you said ohone damn s-spohot!” 

Deku chuckled. “I’m just trying to decide.” 

More poking and prodding, more flinching and cursing, then all of the tendrils traveled up and started tracing his shoulders, inner biceps, the lower outline and rim of his armpits.

“Here.” Deku said, joyfully. “Ten minutes starts now.”

Bakugo clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a burst of insufferable tickles, but the light tracing continued. The makeshift cock ring in the pump gradually released and he felt a rush of dangerous pleasure. With a long groan, the teasing and the tickles were completely obliterated from his mind, hardly able to feel them anymore as the pump expanded and closed in, the massage of his balls deepened causing him to shift around in his restraints, unconsciously grinding his hips to further the sensation.

He was close and was hardly resisting anymore. He teetered on the brink of ecstasy, a welcomed feeling afloat in a sea of agony and shit else. He felt something inside him swell, could have sworn the toy around his shaft pumped faster with excitement. Maybe just one time, just in this spot, wouldn’t be so bad. He could avoid it in the next round.

Yes, he’d decided. Who fucking cares if Deku watched. The sick fuck probably got off on it. Bakugo shoved his previous reservations aside and allowed the bliss to fully envelope him. Fuck everything and everyone else, with one final groan he-

“AHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHA! WHAHAAAA! DEHEHA- AAHHHHAHAHAHA! FUHUHUHK! DAHAHAMN IT!! YOHOU FUHKING- DAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Bakugo exploded into a generous mix of curses and laughter, brought on by the four tendrils circling the rims on either sides of his armpits to suddenly close in and undulate into the sensitive flesh. One was squeezing and floating around the ticklish muscle right where the armpit and chest connect. Another was pushing and rotating just above but not quite on that delectably torturous spot above his ribs, and the last two were shamelessly digging right into the center, One stationary, the other circling largely and being sure to not to leave any spot untouched. 

Bakugo thrashed. He pressed his chest into the bench and slammed his forehead onto the headrest. His hands clenched and unclenched from their trembling fists and his shoulders bounced up and down from pure mirth. The surprise caught him off guard, although he would kick himself for not expecting it if he had the ability to think at all. 

Being denied a peaceful release at the absolute last second made his body tingle with newfound sensitivity. His stomach filled with frustration and his throbbing cock twitched as it was continuously and mercilessly pumped.

Quickly tumbling down from his euphoric high, he cursed and fought. One of the tendrils found a delectable spot at the top left inner muscle, where the edge of his shoulder creased into his armpit. Being caught so grossly off guard by the spike in sensitivity, it easily knocked and bursted through to the most secluded corners of his mind.

“GAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! AHAH AAAHHHAH! AAHAHAHA! FFFAAAHAHAHAHA- GGRRRAAAAH! GAHAHAD DAHAHMN IT STAHAHAHAP!”

Deku wore a toothy grin and just hummed to himself.

Bakugo tried to use his momentum to rock himself on the bench, hoping to tip the whole damn thing over but it held steady. Unable to manage anything more then a few stress creaks, Bakugo pushed each of his shoulders in and squished them against the bench, but the tickling never relented. He jolted violently when two random tendrils goosed his ribs.

“ARRRGGHH! GAHAAD DAHAMN YOU DEHEKHU! STAHPFUC- AAHAHAHA! STOP FUCKINGARAHAHOUND!”

Deku chuckled and raised his hands. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn't resist.”

“BAHAHSTAHAHARD! SHIHIHIHT! GAH! NO! NOO!! STAHAHAP!”

Deku feigned innocence as one of his lower tendrils slowly slinked more so towards the bottom of his armpits, causing Bakugo to thrash harder, doing a piss poor job of covering up his panic.

Suddenly, he yelled out when he felt the toy around his manhood start to squeeze. The tendrils under his arms gradually slowed their manic torment, leaving Bakugo huffing and puffing with each sensitive pass. Bakugo rested his sweat riddled forehead against the leather, squeezing his eyes shut in aggravation. The transition from obnoxious tickling  pleasure was rough and Bakugo felt his arms shake.

The smile in Deku’s voice was infuriating. “How are we doing?”

He didn't realize it until a surge of pleasure slapped him in the face but Blackwhip was no longer pinching and prodding. Instead, swirling and ghosting. The toy around Bakugo’s length suddenly started pumping, undulating up and down in an unpredictable pattern. Strokes, like a tongue, traveled up his length, the winnowing pressure taking him in deep while it massaged his balls. Although still there, the tickling quickly became secondary.

Bakugo couldn't help the carnal groan that left his tight lips. Everything fell away from him as he openly welcomed the only good sensation he’s felt since being in this shit hole. He wanted this and he didn't care if Deku saw and mocked him. This was only the first round, He’d be able to avoid-

Bakugo yelled out as he released the first drops of ecstasy. The slicked out muscles on his back rippled as he arched into it, riding the whole thing out. The tendrils never stopped teasing his armpits, and he didn't give a shit. He couldn't feel it anymore. Sparks ignited and bloomed across his vision. After a moment of shameful, shattering pleasure, he slumped. Spent and breathless.

Deku whistled.

The toy didn’t slow. He felt something brush across his reddened tip. Bakugo twitched and gasped, pushing his hips back as far as he could.

”Fff-Fuck!”

”That’s one for the armpits.” Deku commented, casually. “If it’s going to be this easy then I think you might be screwed.” 

“S-sta- Sh- I’m- I’m gonna-“

“What?” Deku’s eyebrows rose, amused.

”I’m gonna fffuckin’ k-kill you.” Bakugo panted, his pitch rising and falling in rhythm with the thing around his cock overstaying its welcome.

Deku’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “There’s the Kacchan I knew.” 

Bakugo opened his mouth but slammed it shut when Blackwhip started moving.

”After All Might gave me One For All,” Deku started, moving Blackwhip slowly, ever so slowly downward. “He told me to keep it a secret.”

“I’m sorry, young Midoriya. Please hold still.”

Bakugo cringed as he felt the tendrils slowly swoop over his ribs. He felt them expand so they caressed right underneath his chest. Two tendrils on each side teased the ribs that wrapped around his back, while two other sneaky ones still swirled in his armpits. He hissed through his teeth as chills iced down his spine and goosebumps appeared all over his body. He shook his head, as if he could will it all away. To his dismay, the teasing is so much more frustratingly ticklish than before.

He grunted when two guileful tendrils flicked and circled his nipples on either side.

“But I told you about it anyway, and I did it out of respect. Respect you didn’t deserve or appreciate.” Deku continued. “Even after All Might, The hero we both grew up admiring, saw it fit to pass his quirk onto me, you still told me I was worthless. Unworthy of U.A. A psychopathic freak.” 

A tendril goosed his upper ribs, another slithered down his stomach, drawing wide circles around his belly button. Two closed in on his hips, pressing into the bone with light pressure. Two teased the skin underneath his ass, two played with the tendons next to his groin, right along the edge of the toy. Another two slinked down his legs and teased his ankles while circling around the heels of his feet. He jumped when an additional pair circled around the balls, occasionally dipping in and tracing the skin right underneath his toes, massaging the stems and teasing the bases.

His heart rate picked up and his breath came fast. His skin tingled as his nerves fired at him with obnoxious sensitivity. He could feel every delicate stroke, every harsh poke, every sensual touch and squeeze, and couldn't help the giggles when they spilled out of his snarling mouth.

The fucking orgasm. It made him even more sensitive.

He was so fucking screwed.

Deku paused, letting the epiphany the other was clearly having, sink in. “I started to believe you.”

All of the tendrils poked their respective spots at once, causing Bakugo to let out an undignified yelp and jolt. Every little movement now started him to the core. 

“Funny how a worthless, psychopathic freak now holds the leash to your collar.”

“Is that what this bullshit is about?” Bakugo’s voice boomed with irritation, edgy nervousness punctuating the end of his accusation. “What the hell do you want, damn Deku? A fuckin’ apology or somethin’?”

Deku shook his head. All the humor was void from his face, his voice dark and emotionless. “I’ve never wanted anything from you.”

Bakugo blinked when Deku raised his hand with the remote and pointed it at him. He couldn't see what button he pressed, but he gasped when suddenly the toy started vibrating. Teasing strokes evolved into sensuous pumping. He was hard again in seconds.

The tendrils eased off. All except the ones stationed at his ribs. Three teased the bottom, two on his left, one on his right. Two on each side teased the middle of his ribs, swirling and poking, following the curve of his back, and another  two danced across his upper ribs, rubbing back and forth, up and down, ghosting underneath and the sides of his chest.

“I’m sure you can guess which spot is next.” Deku clicked his tongue. “Looks like you might lose before I even start.” 

Bakugo’s head snapped up from where it was resting. “Fuck you!” His biceps strained with the titanic effort of trying to lower his arms. He arched his back, pushed himself forward, tried to dip his shoulders and chest hard against the leather, but nothing phased the tendrils determined to take me straight to hell. They encouraged the sort of panic that he felt like he could taste. The toy’s vibrations increased, the flesh of the toy slowly starting to suck, doubling his vision with pleasure.

“There was a spot around here… where was it again?” Blackwhip poked and nudged at his entire rib cage. Bakugo spluttered and hissed through his teeth, body jolting and flinching with every jab.

“Fucker! You, mother fuc-!!” Bakugo spat. “Stop this- Mmgghhm- bulh-bullshit! III’ve fuckin’ had it with y-AH!”

“Mmmm.” Deku mused. Blackwhip paused, pinpointed tendrils vibrating softly right on that dreaded spot. Bakugo froze as well, looking at Deku with the most hateful glare he’d ever given anyone.

“I wonder if-” 

Squeeze

Bakugo inhaled so sharply, he choked. “AUGH! Damn it, stop!” He tried to haft and throw himself around on the bench. Deku only smiled, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

Blackwhip softly, softly undulated once more and Bakugo would have hit the ceiling if he wasn't so tightly restrained. “MMGGHH! STOP! Don’t you fucking do it, you fuck!”

The toy around his needy length pumped faster and his attention was quickly averted to the sudden burst of pleasure that wracked through his body and made him shutter. His mouth opened in a silent groan, which transformed into an unrestrained yell as Blackwhip again, teased one of his death spots.

He hafted himself up hard, creaking the bench. “NO!” He cursed, shoving all of the authority in his voice that he could muster. “Just fucking stop this! I swear to FuhuahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAK! SHIHIT!”

The three tendrils teasing the bottom of his ribs dove in, rubbing fast and harshly between and around the bone, the third tendril went rogue and snuck over his quivering stomach and down to his thighs. Bakugo shook his head in delirium and fruitlessly bucked his hips up and down. Even with the torturous tickling rerouting his mind, the pleasure he was feeling from the toy was still very much present. Slowly, he felt himself twitch and glisten with pressing need.

Deku hummed. “Oh, does that tickle?” 

“FAHAHAK YOU! GAAGHH! NAAAAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP!” 

The tendrils stationed at the middle of his ribs came alive, mimicking the same unpredictable technique as the ones on his lower ribs. Bakugo fought hard, knowing what was next, knowing he couldn't stop it. Two tendrils slowly wrapped around his thighs, goosing and tickling the whole way. Bakugo expected them to attack his thighs again, but unexpectedly, they slipped their teasing tips underneath the sleeve of the toy, now slowly stroking and wrapping around the bare skin of his penis. Aside from dissolving into harsh thrashing and seizing like he touched an exposed cable, something else instantly came over him. In a moment of panicked weakness he opened his mouth.

“AAHHH! GAHH! WAIT! FUKIN’ WAHAITWAIT! WAHT DOYOUWAHAHAHNT?!” 

Deku answered simply. “This.”

Two things happened at the same time. 

The tendrils resting and teasing his death spot pulled back and dove right in. Viciously rubbing into that incomprehensibly ticklish spot without a shred of mercy. Four more vibrating tendrils latched on, squeezing, rubbing and scratching torturously. 

The tendrils that snuck into the toy, wrapped around the entirety of Bakugo’s heat and lightly squeezed, following the rhythm of the toy. It pumped Bakugo excitedly, the two tips reaching his pre-cum soaked tip to swirl and rub, lick and tease. One of the tips pressed underneath the head, flicking under it like like an experienced tongue, while the other teased and stroked the slit.

Torn between two incredibly overwhelming sensations, Bakugo’s voice instantly gave out. For a moment, there was silence. Bakugo’s mouth was open in a silent, lustful, tortured scream, his sweat glistened muscles rippled with the intense single pull he was imposing onto all of his limbs. His toes clenched and his nails bit into his fists. After one sharp intake of breath, 

Bakugo fittingly exploded.

“AHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FAHAHHA! NONONOHOHOHONOOOOO! GAHHH! NAHA- I CAHHAHA- ST- GAHAHAHAHAD OHHOHOH FUCK! OHFUUUUUCK!! DEHEHE- PFFTAHAHAAHAHA!! AHAHAAAASHIHIT! SHITSHITSAHIT!! AHAHAAAAAAAAHAHAH! GGRRAAAAAHHH!!! -AHAHHAHAHAAA————OOOOOPP! STAHAHAHAP STOPSTOPSTOPFUCKINGHELLSTOHOHOHOHP!! AHAHAHA————”

 Deku watched Bakugo fall apart, a maniacal, sadistic smile creasing his face. “Found it.”

“AAAAHH! FUCKDEKUSTOOOOOOOOOOOP! FAHAHAK! I CAHAHA- GAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAAAAHAHAHAH-”

“What was that?” Deku stuck his tongue into his cheek. “You can’t what?”

Bakugo’s mind was blank. His entire world was encompassed by all of the sensations saturating every recess of his brain. He whipped his head around, slamming it repeatedly against the headrest, the cushioning not even allowing him the relief of pain. He quickly approached the lower level of laughter, where it became mostly screams.

“ICANTTAKEIT! OHFUCKINGSHIT I FUKIN CAHAHAHAHA! AHAHA AHA AHA AHAHAH! ICAHAHAHANT! STOOOOOOOOHOHAAAAAAAAP!”

The toy picked up its pace, encouraging the tendrils wrapped around his dick to follow along. A few new tendrils squeezed his balls, Two flicked and rubbed his nipples, one even licked up the side of his neck, right underneath his jaw. His eyes flew to the back of his head.

“Want me to stop tickling or stop pumping?”

Bakugo’s face was alight with fire, he wasted no time. “TICKLING! STAHAH THE TIHIHIH-TIHIH- FAHAHAHAK! STAHAHAHAP TIHIHAHAHA-!”

“If I stop the tickling, you’ll lose the round. Are you sure you-”

“YES! YEHEHEHS! YESYESYESJUST- SHIHIHIHT!! STAHAHAHAP! FUCKINGHEHEHELL!” 

Deku instantly stopped and focused his energy into on the blonde’s dick.

“MMMMPHHHHH FFFFFUUCK!” Bakugo moaned, arching his back and shaking his head, grinding his hips along the bench. “FFFFFFFFUHHHHHK!” Bakugo groaned, lost in a new kind of torment.

He closed his eyes, everything instantly fell away from him when he felt a tendril slip over his tip again. He felt the build up burn in his stomach, felt his penis throbbing, his tip glistening, ready for release. He felt the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had gather, aching in his swollen balls. Despite the need for air, he held his breath as the first drops of-

“GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”

Bakugo’s voice cracked when everything simply stopped.

The tendrils and the toy fell limp. His body tingled as if all of his limbs fell asleep. Sweat dripped off his chin as he gasped. Opening his mouth to curse, a strangled sound came out instead when everything resumed. He flinched and jolted in his restraints, but the pumping and “licking” resumed, throwing him right back into that agonizing build up. Right when he could see stars, it stopped again.

He jerked his head up and seared his eyes into amused green ones with a guttural growl, only to force his head back down and clench his fists when it all started again.

“You…. You ffffuh- ffucking b-”

“I’m just helping you out.” Deku cocked his head to the side, chuckling. “Trust me, you don’t want to cum again.”

Bakugo closed his eyes, but he couldn't have a moment of rest before the pumping started again. He filled his cheeks with curses and air, releasing them in a flurry when rogue tendrils buried themselves into his ribs, his worst spot spared for now, as he was thrown head first into more ticklish chaos. He couldn't handle this much longer. He couldn't handle this now. He felt his sanity slipping through the cracks, but it didn't matter.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Deku trilled after a few more minutes. “If you beg me to cum, I’ll let you. Then we can move on.”

Beg him to lose the game. Beg him to take away the small change at freedom and hope that he had. Beg him to keep him here and torture him until help eventually came or he went batshit.

No, no he couldn't.

Bakugo snapped out of it. He returned Deku’s wicked glare and sneered. “Fuck. You.”

Deku narrowed his eyes and smirked, as if he was hoping for that exact answer. “Tickling it is then.”

First, there was a moment of silence.

Then pure, unadulterated madness.

Blackwhip attacked every inch of Bakugo’s ribcage. Bakugo screamed, a high pitched uncharacteristic shriek that shocked both of them. Then, he fell into manic, hysterical unrestrained laughter. Laughter that only maddened when his worst spot was finally targeted. Bakugo couldn't feel when the toy started again, couldn't feel the bubbling build up, or the burn of release that taunted him from mere inches away. He couldn't feel any of it, not until the tickling abruptly stopped and he stole greedy breath before countless tendrils converged on the entirety of his tip, sliding and slinking over the crimson peak it while the tendrils wrapped around his dick pumped up and down his length with mouth watering speed. His eyes stung with mirthful tears before he was thrown right back into ticklish oblivion. 

Once his death spot was awarded another short break, Bakugo used that opportunity to quickly give up.

“OKAYOKAYOKAHAHAHAHAYE! OKAHAHAHAHAY JUHUSTFUKINGDOHOHOHIT! I GIHIHIVE! IGIVE! JAHAHAAST MAAKEMECUM! DHAHAMNIT!”

“Mmmm,” Deku considered for a moment. “Say please.”

“AAGHHAHAHA!! GAHAHAHDDAHAHMN YOU!” Bakugo was slapping the edge of the leather wrist rest with his hand, trying to physically tap out. “PLEHEHESE! FUCKINPLEHEHESE! JUHUST STOP TIHIHIHCKLING!”

The tickling didn't stop completely, but it was enough. Bakugo was hardly afforded the gift of relief as tendrils immediately pumped and licked, massaged and caressed his entire length. The toy suddenly closed up around the tip and so similar to a warm mouth, he felt licking, swirling and even sucking. The rest of his twitching member was caressed and abused with soft and fast lustful strokes. Spit dribbled out of his mouth and beads of sweat glided down his sides and back as he arched.

 He had no idea how many tendrils were pleasuring him now, but every damn spot was zapped with unbelievable, world shattering, sinful pleasure. Tendrils slinked through his toes and circled around the balls of his feet. Others lightly ghosted up his long arches and more teased his heals. New, lustful feelings seared from his feet straight to his dick, which pulsed in tandem with the activity. He didn’t dare start to unpack that.

The tendrils reappeared at his nipples and neck, his eyes once again dug into the back of his head.

He lasted an impressive 50 seconds.

He groaned out loud with his long release, his damp rob and body twitching through each pump of glorious rapture. His orgasm, almost matching the duration of his endurance, forced his twitching toes to curl, the squirming tendrils undeterred by even that. His abs and back muscles flexed, the light reflecting off of each sweaty twitch and convulsion.

He slumped heavily after it was through. He bucked and hissed when the tendrils around his ribs hardly gave him a second before teasingly slinking down, tracing over his twitching sides and pressing into his hips and thighs.

“Two for two.” Deku counted, unapologetically. “I’m not sure I like your odds.” 

Bakugo couldn't muster a response. The tendrils around his hips and thighs forced a few half assed curses and poorly held back giggles from him. He arched his back, huffing when they pressed into the soft spaces inward next to his hips, ticklishly stroking down between his thighs. Oh shit.

“Agghh staha- Mmmhh. No mohore.” He murmured. His once silky ash blonde hair was now dark and matted, sticking to his eyes and head. “I-I— God, I fffucking can’t- I can’t d-do this shit anymore.” His body sizzled with heightened sensitivity. Even the breeze across his fucking feet tickled.

 Deku looked at him for a moment before shaking his head slowly. “The game isn’t over yet.”

The tendrils found a ticklish tendon underneath and inward along his ass and inner thigh, and pressed into it. Bakugo barked out a surprised laugh and squirmed weakly.

Deku was silent as he teased that spot, longer than the pro hero thought he could tolerate. 

“One more spot,” Deku announced, pushing his tendrils down over his thighs, creeping over the back of his ticklish knees, lingering there for a moment before tickling toward his calves. “Then round two starts.”

The tendrils slowly slithered down this calves, forcing him to half groan, half whine and bite his cheek. When they grazed over his Achilles heal and brushed down around the sides of his feet, Bakugo felt a surge of adrenaline course through him, energy he pointlessly wasted by yelling a stream of obscenities and fighting hard as he could. He’d never felt more helpless, he’d never been so tortured, he’d never felt as if he could be reduced to begging, but here he was, those sinful words dancing at the tip of his tongue, tempting him like food tempts a starved man. 

All from tickling.

Blackwhip paused and Bakugo knew it was over. His fatigue caught up moments before and he stared at Deku with wide pleading eyes. Deku drank that up like a craved cigarette. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

Well, almost.

“Wait! Deku, wai-”

The rest of his plea fizzled and died on his lips.

He felt it everywhere and nowhere. Tendrils raced over and under his flailing toes, some scratched right underneath and along the stems and pads, more circled and scratched the balls of his feet, playing with the plump, overly sensitive pads. Additional ones scratched just at the creases underneath the balls, which at this point hadn’t been touched and absolutely drove him up the metaphorical wall of madness and hysteria. Others stroked up and down and side to side, playing along his creamy arches, paying special attention to the spot where the heel melts into the arch, while more circled and teased his heels. Two tickled and scratched along the sides of each foot, a few, Bakugo couldn't count, even tickled the tops of his feet along with some slowly stroked up and down this claves and two stragglers unfairly burrowing into the back of his knees.

Bakugo couldn't comprehend anything except how much it fucking tickled.

His mouth was wide open in a silent scream, his eyes squeezed shut, saturated with mirthful tears. When additional tendrils started stroking and alternating between the arches and balls of his feet, a switch flipped in him. He started bouncing up and down, moving the bench slightly as he tried to lift and drop his weight, trying to use pure strength to break it or at least flip it over. Aside from a few cracks and creaks, it was silent as he wasted precious, limited energy.

More at the top and sides. Extra in between the toes. Something evil goosed his ribs.

That was all he couldn't handle.

“NOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHO! NONONONAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUUUUUCK! AHA AHAHA! AHAHHAHAH! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOOOOOOOOOOOP!YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF MOTHERFUCKINGSHIT ILL FUCKING KIHIHIHIHLL YOUDEAAAAD! MMMGGHGHHMHMHMHMMMAAAAAH!! GOD! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!”

Pure, tortured belly laughter bellowed out of him like a fog horn. His laughter only evolved, turning pained and high pitched when the thing on his cock started vibrating.

“NOOO!”

The tendrils along his feet started slowing, sensually rubbing and tickling his toes. Electricity flitted through his dick, standing to attention within seconds.

Curses temporarily overwhelmed his laughter when Blackwhip wrapped around and pulled his toes back. The sweat coating Bakugo’s body created enough slip for the tendrils to wreak absolute havoc just along the undersides and stems of his toes, where the sensitive skin had been pulled and crueley exposed. Bakugo thrashed and screamed and spat and heaved, but nothing stopped it. Nothing topped it.

This time, Deku didn't edge, didn't relent, and didn't change the pace. Either Bakugo was going to cum like this, or he wasn't.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHESE! AHAHAHA! OOHGADDAMNITPLEEHEHESE!!”

“What are you begging for?” Deku inquired. Bakugo couldn't care that he was being mocked, couldn’t even take the few seconds of brain power to register or understand it.

“AAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH ST- AHAHAHA! MA-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUCKFUCKFUCK I CAAAAA————”

Silence. Deku furrowed his brows and leaned forward, cupping a hand to his ear. “Hmm?”

“——————PAHA- PH- PLEHE- PLEHEHEHESE! WAHAHAH- WAIHIHIHT! NAHAHA I- I GOHOHAHAH! MMMMMMHHHHHFFFFFAAAGGHHHHH!!!”

The tickling hardly slowed as stars blurred his vision. A loud, animalistic moan burned his raw throat. He came hard, the tendrils slipping and sliding gleefully inside the wet toy.

Even after he was done, it continued for a few more seconds, prompting a loud continuous scream from him that only relented a few moments after everything truly stopped.

He collapsed, breathing so hard and deep that his chest ached.

He only knew one thing; He couldn't fucking handle this anymore.

Deku slow clapped and whistled. “Bet you never thought you could be tickled into an orgasm.”

Bakugo didn't respond, he hardly heard him. He flinched hard when the tendrils teasingly retracted from his reddened and raw feet, traveling up his trembling body once again.

Bakugo moaned. “N-no… Please…Just … please just stop.” 

Deku shook his head and beamed. “The game isn’t over yet.”

Bakugo shook his head, entirely defeated. “No more.”

Deku eyes glittered, the emerald hue glowing as though the devil himself had possessed the soul behind them. “Remember,” Tendrils slithered up to his aching ribs. Bakugo gritted his teeth and pulled his arms. Deku’s eyes crinkled. “You cant cum in the same spot twice.”

Tendrils slipped under his arms, waving and stroking like wheat in the wind.

A noise, almost like a disgruntled whine slipped out of Bakugo. “Please. Deku, please just fucking stop this.”

More tendrils. Bakugo inhaled sharply. “I-I know what I di-did wahas fucked a-”

“Is that all it took?” Deku murmured, voice low. “Hours of tickle torture for you to realize that?”

“No!” Bakugo winced as tendrils spilled down his ribs. “Damn it! I’ve known, you fucktard! I- Fuck! I just- SHIHIT! Just- FUCK! Let me goddam taHAHAlk!”

“No.” Deku put a hand up, silencing the quivering blonde. “It might come as a shock to you, but I haven’t thought about what happened in a long time.”

Tracing along the heels of his feet. Bakugo cringed.

“I’ve wanted this for a while. To torture you, and make you beg.” Tendrils slipped into the hollows behind his knees. “To make you answer for each and every horrible thing you did to me, down to every dirty look.” Tendrils teased up his spine again, causing him to lurch forward as much as he could. “I wanted to break you and make you pay. I still do.” Tendrils ghosted down his arms, teasing the skin under his biceps. “Maybe one day, I’ll let you explain it to me. But right now,” Deku stood, straightening his back. All the tendrils lifted themselves from his body, pointing their tips over their respective spots.

“It turns out, I don’t give a shit.” 

Tendrils burrowed into his underarms. As if he were being repeatedly tased with a stun gun, he convulsed and seized, immediately dissolving into loud, unrestrained guffaws. His entire being was now just a big ball of overly sensitized, ticklish nerves to which Blackwhip took full advantage of. It dug, scratched, wiggled, pinched and squeezed all over his body, the main event  taking place in his armpits. He fell into silent laughter once, twice, three times within the span of a few minutes.

He couldn't fight when the toy started vibrating, when he felt more of Blackwhip dip into the sleeve of the toy, when the tendrils ghosting and tickling his thighs pinched and traced along his ass, and when tendrils teased the newfound egregious zones on his feet. He gave in to the torture, unable to protest when the freedom he had no chance of earning burned out of him for the fourth time.

Everything stopped. His head fell in misery. 

Then snapped back up.

He felt it in his armpits, ribs, thighs, groin, feet, knees, calves, arms- everywhere. 

Every spot Deku had learned was put to merciless use. 

Bakugo’s screams echoed throughout the room, down the hall, and drifted outside, haunting the grounds like loitering ghosts.

He didn't know how long it took for him to finally pass out.

—

His eyes groggily flitted open.

It took a few minutes for his vision to fully come back to him. It took even longer for him to remember where he was. Eyes locked on the water damaged ceiling, his head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. When his brain started to catch up with his body, he felt it. 

Holy shit, he ached. 

His throat felt chipped and raw, his head pounded hard at the side of his temples, his fucking ribs and stomach…

He groaned and pushed himself up, stomach muscles screaming as he held his head in his hand. One glance around the room and one more zap from his aching body confirmed that what happened to him wasn’t just a fucked up nightmare.

Catching a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye, he turned his attention to the flimsy nightstand next to his bed. Three bottles of water were placed onto it, along with some dark steaming, floral smelling liquid inside of a beige mug with a spoon sticking out of it. In front of that was a bottle of Advil, a sandwich on a small, circular paper plate, and an envelope. All neatly placed together.

Any reservations he’d possessed about eating and drinking had been thwarted long ago, so he downed the first bottle in seconds as well as half of the second before deciding to swallow three Advils along with the rest. He placed the third bottle underneath the mattress and observed the contents of the mug, deciding it was tea. He took a tentative sip, sighing when the hot liquid velveted down his sore throat, soothing it and warming his stomach. A hint of ginger left a subtle, spicy tang and he could have sworn he tasted a bit of honey. He ate his sandwich as he sipped.

He didn't want to think about who left all of this stuff here for him, much less why. As far as he knew, everyone in this fucking place had access to his room and everyone was a damn scumbag for it.

His gaze turned to the envelope. He finished the tea, pulled the lip open, and pulled out something small and rectangular, wrapped in white tissue paper. 

He tore the paper off and his stomach dropped.

“K-Kacchan? Wait, Kacchan! No! STOP! PLEASE!”

It was old and worn. It looked exactly like his.

“PLEASE!”

It was Deku’s All Might trading card.

[simpingland]

Alliance of flowers and wings// Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell!fem!oc

When Aemond offers Lyassandre Tyrell a visit to Highgarden, she doesn't expect the gentlemen he really his, little does she know, Aemond wants something out of the smartest lady on court.

Aemond interacts with a kid and a lizard and I made it cute.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lyssandre was caught up walking around the forbidden halls of the Keep, again. She wasn't very quiet on her footsteps as she was "clueless" about the prohibitions.

"You can't be here, my lady" called a male voice. She wished for anyone but Ser Criston, he was an asshole. When she turned around, she wished for Ser Criston. It was the One-eyed Prince Aemond. She was screwd. With any other guard, it would be easy, she would flirt her troubles away. Just a smile and playing it dumb and they all let her go, no words to the queen. Even Criston Cole believed in her stupidity, little did he know, it was him the stupid one. But Aemond didn't buy it, he never has, not even when she arrived. The moment she saw the half blinded man, she couldn't fake anything, everything inside her went cold, she could barely look at him, it was even worse when she saw him fence for the first time. She learned the story of his dragon, and she didn't wish to meet more of such a cruel boy, now grow into a man.

"Oh, right...Silly me..."she tried to smile but her lips only trembled. "I didn't know that."

"Hum..." again, he could see through her big fat lie. "If you tell me the truth I would have let you go...but people don't hide away their good intentions..." he came closer, slowly.

"What bad intentions could I have, my prince?" She asked, trying to encourage herself.

"Spying? Stealing?" He made a pause, looking at her eyes. "Don't know, people here are very creative. Maybe you went to find someone to fuck..."

Lyssandre started to blush, accusations like that were very dangerous for a lady in waiting, she might be flirty but the Seven knew, she wanted a good match as a husband. "I beg you, do not think of me as something other than a noble lady, my prince...I would never do such a thing."

"My brother Aegon is a prince, higher lord than you...and you couldn't keep track of the amount of places he has jerked off..." he said, a little anger in his voice. "I'm glad I found you, my lady...I've been sent to Oldtown".

"Well, I wish you a good trip then", she bowed and started to walk away. But the prince hold her forearm, not roughly, but she was forced to stop.

"Highgarden is in the middle of the road, Lady Tyrell" he explained. "It's been long since your departure, am I correct?"

"Almost three years, my prince". She felt a quick and sharp feeling of nostalgia, her sister was a baby when she left, and her room was way prettier than the boring one she was given in the Red Keep.

"I can let you there, while I visit my brother Daeron. I would take you back here on my return". He let her arm go, staring with apparent uninterest as she thought about it.

"Well...it's a very generous offer..." it was, but travelling was long and she hated ships and carriages weren't much better. And also, she would be with Aemond Targaryen, the only person able to make her uncomfortable in the entire King's Landing.

"The journey will be short. Only a day, and I will stay in Oldtwon for two weeks".

Two weeks? That's a very good amount of time...wait...

"Only a day of travelling? But the roads are long and horses can't ride all day"

Aemond smirked, somethings Lyssandre only saw on his training sessions and they weren't very usual. "We won't ride, Lyssandre, we'll fly".

Before she couldn't even process it, they were waking her up early in the morning a couple of days later. Her clothes in a box, and a cloak. When she met Aemond, he was saying goodbye to the Queen, he stared at the dress of the Tyrell girl.

"This was my biggest dress, my prince...the only one that...might...not break apart ",she explained. He only smirked and hummed, as always, walking way ahead of her. But the walk had no perdition, Vhagar was very visible, waiting for his rider to fly away.

Aemond could see the girl shaking, and even then she was able to smile at the servants that crossed their way. The dragon's keepers would blush when they helped her to reach the dragon and they treated her belonging with extra care. Aemond could just watch, amazed at the charms of the girl who has always ignored him. She sat behind him, holding tight, but when Vhagar started to fly, she screamed and the prince almost choked at the tightness of the grip, her arms around his waist. It was a messy start, he felt her head hidding in his back, and once Vhagar stopped moving his wings, she separated a little.

"Are you enjoying the flight, Lady Tyrell?"

"Ye..yes...are we there yet?"

"Open your eyes and see" of course, even giving his back, he would have guessed that Lyssandre had her eyes tightly clossed. When she opened them, she screamed again, but it was shorter. Aemond laughed shamelessly but the views were stunning. They were very, very high...but the sky was clean, the mountains green and the sea would appear far away. "The gods and the dragons has this one thing in common...they see the world in all it's glory...and Targaryens are chosen to enjoy it".

And now Lyssandre was the chosen one to enjoy it as well...no Tyrell has walked on the sky, but she was the first one, maybe, just maybe, she was making history at this very moment, thanks to Aemond. She couldn't speak, so she just enjoyed the rest of the ride, letting Aemond speak every now and then. The sun was just beginning to dissappear when Highgarden was reached. Now she understood, she got a complete idea of the beauty her house holded. She recognised her castle far away, even her window. Aemond, aware of the fascination of the lady, made Vhagar fly three times around, letting her joy more than once her own home as the gods saw it.

When they landed, they walked for bit long, leaving that gigantic dragon behind. "I hope they have pie... I'm dying to eat again a pie made by Elwa..." she mumbled, more to herself than for Aemond.

"A pie? One of the most exotic lands in the Seven Kingdoms and you wish for pie?" Asked the prince, he has, in fact, payed attention. She would joke about it, but she didn't know where to draw the boundaries with the prince, and it was better not to risk his sympathy when you needed him later.

When they reached the castle, Lady Tyrell ran to the door. Her husband followed and run, only to stop his wife. They were a few inches apart, smiles on the Tyrell women, but Lord Tyrell knew that the correct manner to treat royalty was to give them priorities, then they would greet their daughter.

"Prince Aemond...what an honor to have you here with us...Let us host you, show our respect" said the men. He had the same hair as his daughter, same color in their eyes, but Lyssandre was all her mother, even the hidding grin was identical.

"Yes, my prince, we'd received a message but we didn't expected you so soon" she spoke. She was sweeter in her manners than her daughter.

A kid run towards Lord Tyrell's legs, hair like Lyssandre but the eyes of the mother.

"Father! A dragon is coming! I saw it, I swear I saw it!" Screamed the girl. Aemond could see in the corner of his eye the change in Lyssandre's expression, she has recognised, her baby sister.

"Hello, Annabella..."she said. "How much you have grown...". The sister went quiet, seeing not only that stranger, but that tall silver Prince beside her.

"The dragon won't hurt you, my dear" calmed her the Lord. "This is prince Aemond, he is son of the King". The kid bowed, clumsy and still scared. "And this young lady here is your sister, Lyssandre" that made her smile, recognising her from all the times her parents would tell about her big sister. Annabella ran to hug her sister.

"I won't bother you, family Tyrell, I was on my way to Oldtown and Highgarden was close. Thought you might wanted to see your daughter for a few days". Aemond felt the feeling of a family that was not his growing inside his chest, but it wasn't terrible feeling, just an odd one.

"It was the kindest of gestures, my prince. You have arrived just in time, I'll tell Elwa to cook more dinner" said lady Tyrell.

"I won't be staying, my lady" said Aemond.

"Oh, please, your grace...it's going to get dark, you must be tired".

"Yes, my prince, it will be an honor to give the prince good food and a good rest" spoke the lord.

"Well..." he looked at Lyssandre, who, for the first time, dedicated him a sincere smile. "I've heard the pies are delicious".

They ate the supper in a improvised little feast. The castle was beautiful, warm colors and the smell of flowers filled the place. Aemond was showed the gardens while Lyssandre visited her room. Lord Tyrell was telling him about some history fact that Aemond already knew when he saw Lyssandre in the distance, hugging what appeared to be Elwa. She giggled at something she was telling her, but this giggle was much more natural than the others he has seen from her. Her eyes looked different there, like if the light was correctly focused on her. The dinner was fun, the food was fantastic and the pie...the pie was something else, she was right. Aemond was interviewed by Lord Tyrell and now the prince understood were the incredible amount of curiosity came from. If it wasn't for Lady Tyrell, Aemond wouldn't have tasted anything from the table, she distracted him, resting the questions a bit. In one of his rest, where the attention was put on Lyssandre, Aemond saw Annabelle picking up her food,cutting a face on her potatoe, not interested in the talk of adults.

"I see you are the only Tyrell in history who mind her own business", whispered Aemond.

The girl went quiet for a moment, looking at him confused, but she smiled. "Look, my potatoe is smiling" She pointed out. This made Aemond smile.

"Wow...what kind of magic is that?" He became invested in the girl's plate.

"It's not magic...I did it with the knife...mother never let me use it".

"Silly her, you've got some serious skills with the weapon...". When Annabella put the knive thought the potatoe again, Aemond made a fake jumpscare that made the girl crack a laugh giggle. They all turned to look at them.

"Annabella, are you using a knife?" Lady Tyrell was trying to hide her annoyance.

"Oh, no, Lady Tyrell, we were just...picking apart her potatoe...I'm making sure she draws a proper face on it".

To that, the woman couldn't say anything. So they continued the dinner with more questions and honors and blessings to the royal family and the fun ended officially when Annabella was sent to bed. She hugged her sister, and she smiled at Aemond. When her mother told her to bow, she couldn't help but giggle, remembering the potatoe that rested still on her plate. The parents bowed too, leaving their daughter be the one guiding the prince around his room.

"Did you enjoy the dinner, my prince?" Asked Lyssandre, side-eyeing the quiet Prince.

"I did...I underestimated the pie you longed so much..." he joked dryly.

"Elwa promised me to bake fifty more once I go back to the Capital. I hope Annabella wasn't much of a bother."

"Not at all...she's quiet, I like that...You are more like your father in spirit...always talking..."

"Gods...was he annoying? I'm so sorry, my prince. He has always talked too much" the girl stopped, trying to make him understand how much she really felt it. But Aemond only fixed his eye on the wall. When she followed his stare she saw it, a little lizard on the wall. "Oh, my prince, don't mind them, they are harmless... but very common around here."

When she took the little thing on her hand, Aemond felt a little admiration, in any other occasion, he would have put that thing away with a knive.

"How do you know that?" He asked.

"If we killed them we would have never know their true nature...sometimes you can go further without violence, my prince." She looked at him, as if trying to speak more words than those. Everyone in the kingdom knew him a sadistic Lord, always close to the sharpest object in the room, restless of training and always wishing for more power.

"Such a clever girl..." he dared to offer his hand, letting her put the little lizard on his hand. "Some people can't risk it for tries and knowledge...to prevent is better than to save."

"That's why you have to be calm and patient, bitting and holding your breath, so you can memorise the right words, which tile to step...that's how you properly learn how to dance."

"I'm afraid I'm not a patient man...I'm a cunning one".

"Why can't you be both?"

"It's not in my blood as Targaryen. Speak sincerely to me, Lyssandre, am i right?"

"Yes, your grace. You are right." She was more confident with her words.

"Would I make a good Lord?"

"I do think so, your grace."

"You wish to see your family often, don't you?" He stared at her, seeing her nod. He trusted her in that hall, where the candles illuminated her serious face, no mask right now, she was being completely honest. "Many Lords let their wives root in their husbands home, caging them in a bed with baths and servants, letting them die at childbirth, missing their childhood home. Are you afraid of a future like that? "

"It's my fate...my prince."

"Hum...no, the gods wouldn't waste you..." he let the lizard go, holding Lyssandre's hand. "Most lords would do that to you...Stupid, idiotic lords...but you think of me a good lord, and I trust you. The wittiest lady on the Keep, maybe in the capital..." Aemond put his face closer to her face. "All this years I saw you walking back every time you saw me, because you were scared of me... That's how I knew you were smart. You have total control of the insects in every corner of the world, you are an observant as much as a charmer, just like a proper Tyrell. A woman who appreciates her origins and is willing to make a difference. A flower crowning a dragon. If you trust me as a good Lord, I would need you beside me, I'll take you wherever you wish, I want your advise, I want your eyes for me, I want your mouth for my use. I'll give you my ears and my wings. Give me wise children and I'll give you powerfull heirs. Let me be yours, Lyssandre."

She couldn't speak, she just blinked, pale and mute. He stared at her, waiting for an answer that never came, as she walked away from him. At the next morning, she could only bow, barely staring at his eye. She watched as he flyed away. Was she that dumb? How did she managed to become such an idiot in just seconds? The only thing she could do about it was spending her time with Annabella, walking and memorising her home. The two weeks went by shortly, as she was incredibly nervous about seeing him again. When he arrived he accepted the invitation right away.

"We have been thinking about an arrangement with Lord Arryn, dear Lys" spoke her mother.

"Lord Arryn? Isn't he...Isn't he an old man?" She had her eyes open wide.

"Well, he is quite mature...but he is having a good season in his gold...and he has heard about your charms..."

Aemond could feel her disappointment. All those days he has replayed that rejection in his mind. He didn't hold bitterness towards the girl. It wasn't her fault she didn't wished to rush in. But now she was scared. Arryn was a great house, but a boring one, far away from the world she has learned to controll. She looked at him, and he did what felt right.

He lower his hand under the table, offering her to take it, she, seeing the hand, blinked and something in her eyes seemed apologetic. She took his hand under the table, they holded tight and she nodded.

"Actually, Lord Tyrell..." he started pulling their locked hands over the table. "I wish to use this reunion to ask for your daughters hand in marriage."

Who dared reject a prince? Not a father of a noble lady. They toasted and clapped, more wine circulated around the table. When the good nights were done, the future couple walked together towards Aemond's room, finishing the walk of last time. When they reached the door, Aemond kissed Lys on the cheek, but she turned her face, making their lips meet. He took her cheeks in her hands, deepening the kiss, passionate and breathtaking. When they separated, he watched her leave, smirking when Lyssandre turned, giving him a wicked smile, knowing well that for now on, they were going to be allies.

[viatagrinner]

Keith Howell. Drunk, she sleeps unprotected

Event: A peaceful night for two. His POV

Since I started staying in Rhodolite, I've had more opportunities to drink.

Mostly it has to do with Mr. Silvio's drinking, but on rare occasions... Yes, on rare occasions I drink with Ms. MC.

I was aware that I had gotten close to her lately. I was also aware that she was an inspiration to me...

So maybe I made a mistake.

MC: ....Hmmm... Keith...

Hearing Ms. MC's voice, I came to my senses.

Sitting across from the carriage, she looked like a fresh apple, and her eyes were moist.

(...No, I can't look straight at her.)

Keith: What's wrong? Do you have a headache?

Averting my gaze slightly, I asked.

MC: .... I'm sleepy.

Keith: Oh, oh! Then go to sleep. We still have time before we get to the castle.

Keith: I'll wake you up when we get there. ....No, but it's uncomfortable to sleep in a carriage.

Keith: Do you want me to be your pillow?

MC: .......Yes. I want a pillow.

Keith: I understand. If you don't mind, I'd like you to use me, as much as you need to.

When I sit down with Ms. MC, the little head rests in my lap.

(I think she's totally drunk. What should I do?)

(...It's my fault. Today's wine was easy to drink, so I had to be careful.)

MC: Lord Keith....

Keith: Huh?

MC: Please give me your hand.

Keith: If it's okay with me, go ahead.

As I hold my hand out in front of me, Ms. MC grabs it with both hands and places it on her forehead.

MC: That feels good. Lord Keith has big hands...they're delicate, so I like them...hehe.

Keith: I see. .......... I'm in trouble.

Seeing her smile and laugh made my body was getting hot.

I took a deep breath and braced myself for the possibility that my sanity would collapse if I let my guard down.

(But, I wonder, does Ms. MC get like this when she's drunk? I didn't expect that, as she is usually so calm.)

(.... From now on, let's stop drinking together. It makes me feel weird).

As I stroked her soft hair, Ms. MC comfortably closed her eyes, and even breathing was heard.

(I hope Ms. MC won't regret it tomorrow when she cools down.)

(............)

(And you're freakin' adorable, by the way. I wonder if you've ever been drunk like this before.)

(I'm worried because there are a lot of men around Ms. MC.)

I kept stroking Ms. MC's hair while she slept peacefully.

Even though I know in my heart that this is not something a man would do to a girl who is not his lover, I can't stop.

(..............Cute.)

Coachman: Lord Keith, we have arrived.

Keith: What!?

The carriage door suddenly opened, and I jerked my hand away with such force that a residual image might have remained.

Coachman: Lord Keith?

Keith: Sorry, sorry. It's nothing.

(What's the rush?)

Ms. MC is still asleep.

I took a deep breath and carefully lifted her up so as not to wake her up...

Nokto: Hey, I see something interesting.

I planned to take the most inconspicuous route possible and get Miss MC to her room, but as soon as I stepped out of the carriage, I met Nokto's gaze.

Keith: No, this is a misunderstanding.

Nokto: And I haven't said anything yet.

(...I have to calm down.)

I'm clearing my throat while I hold Miss MC.

Keith: Mr. Nokto, are you leaving now?

Nokto: Well, by the way, shall we call the servants?

Attempts to divert the conversation ended in vain, and the crimson eyes were fixed on Ms. MC

Nokto: Because I can't have a lady disturbing my guests.

Keith: No... there's no need to.

(Originally I should have asked for it.)

I didn't want to give Ms. MC, who smelled like sweet wine, to someone else.

(I wonder if she'd hate me if she knew I'd done something like that... but I don't want to stop.)

Nokto: Oh, I see. Did I say something rude?

Keith: No, it's a misunderstanding!

Nokto: That's why I didn't say anything.

(...... How many times do I have to make the same mistake over and over again?)

Nokto: Did you like this girl?

Nokto smiles meaningfully.

Not that I'm so dumb as not to understand what you're trying to say.

(I should refute that before strange rumors arise...)

Flashback:

MC: That feels good. Lord Keith has big hands...they're delicate, so I like them...hehe.

Flashback ends.

Keith:.....It seems that way.

Nokto: ..........😧

(.......Denial......)

(.............I thought I was going to do that.)

The weeds that grow there might be much smarter.

Although I was disgusted by the lack of results, I was not ready to deny it now.

Keith: Mr. Nokto, you're going out, aren't you? Be careful.

Keith: Besides, could you give me some time tomorrow? I have something to offer you.

Nokto: So I'm supposed to keep quiet about it?

Keith: Is that a bad thing?

Nokto:.......Right.

The sly smile is replaced by the beautiful smile you often see at social events.

Nokto: I didn't see anything, Your Highness Keith.

Keith: I am saved.

As if nothing had happened, we parted ways.

If I lower my gaze, Ms. MC is still defenselessly asleep.

As kind as she is, she shouldn't be so defenseless against someone who lets her guard down.

(......Right.)

(I feel like I'm being told I'm "special" and it's hard to let go.)

(I'm selfish.)

MC: Lord....Keith...

A faint voice brings me out of my thoughts.

(I'll apologize tomorrow, so just today...)

_________________________________________

Next Day.

MC: I'm very, very sorry.

The next morning I was stunned by Ms. MC who came into my room.

Keith: Ms. MC, raise your head. You have done nothing wrong. You have nothing to apologize for.

MC: No, I remember last night.

MC: How you brought me to my room...And before that, how I used you as my pillow...

Keith: Rather, I was honored to be your pillow! So don't feel bad.

Keith: I'd be your pillow every day if I had to/ I'm happy to be your pillow every day.

MC: .......

Keith: Sorry, I said something weird/creepy.

(Was that indeed creepy? I was out of line.......)

Keith: Ah, I want you to feel free! I didn't do anything wrong.

MC: I know, I know. Thank you.

MC: Lord Keith is very kind.

Keith: .... I wonder.

(Not good. Just selfish.)

MC: You're very kind. ....So I hope you won't mind if I join you again for a drink.

MC: I'll be careful not to fall asleep next time!

(You're really...... giving me the benefit of the doubt, aren't you?)

Last night in the carriage, I vowed never to drink alcohol together.

Otherwise, I'm afraid my ulterior motives will really leak out someday......

However, the innocent smile on her face made my sanity collapse.

Keith: Even if you fall asleep, I'll carry you again.

A hand that unconsciously reaches out and gently wraps around a soft ear-shell.

When I touched my fingertips to her ear, Miss MС's face turned red.

Keith: Miss MC. I know it's a little too much...

Keith: But I want you to call me whenever you want a drink.

(I don't think there is absolutely no man who would look at this face and think nothing of it.)

MC: Well, I don't normally get drunk like that, do I?

MC: Lord Keith was about me, so I let my guard down.

Keith: ......After all...you are in dangerous.

MC: What?...

Keith: No, I'm sorry. Please pretend you didn't hear me.

My body felt strangely hot, so I let go of Ms MC's hand.

(I should worry about myself before I worry about other people.)

I felt the persistent smell of last night's sweet wine touch my nose.

[daenakills]

Only an Illusion II

Pairing: Otto Hightower x female reader.

Summary: After your lover's rejection you decide to submit to marriage not entirely desired.

Warnings: slight angst ig, age gap, oc (but it's not what u think), me trying to write for otto without being so ooc, rejection, SMUT.

Your tears caressed your face knowing that Otto Hightower didn't want to see you anymore. It was a frightening feeling, you weren't going to lie to you so much, but there was something that made you believe it was maybe the best. Perhaps it was better to focus less on your love life, so for that reason you decided to ask your mother to marry whoever she wanted, with whom she seemed more apt. After all, she had already warned you that love was something that was not worth fighting for so much.

It had been 2 weeks since what happened and you were surprised not to hear news from your mother promising someone your hand. The gods listened to you and your mother came excited to tell you something.

— "My dear, I have good news, we have found the best game for you!" — She began to tell you how he was and that he was from a good family. He was a Lord named Alisteir Royce. You were going to be honest and realize that you had never heard that name in your entire life, yet you let your mother jump and celebrate.

>>> Dear Mother, how did you find out about that?

— "We received a letter, it seems that the boys are already eager to be with you"— she exclaimed excitedly

>>> "But do you know him?"

"My dear, I'm offended that you think your mother doesn't review the candidates," she said in a slightly mocking tone, talking as if she wasn't your mother.

The more you thought about it, the more nervous you became. You felt that it was an irrational nervousness but it consumed you. Your father had warned you that in a few days you would travel to see him.

Imagine your surprise to learn that this same man was Otto Hightower's pupil, just thinking about seeing him again made your eyes water.

It was already the day, your mother decided that you should wear a dress in a color that matched the colors of your house, it was to your liking even though honestly it was tight, I guess to show your figure more. They gave you a hairstyle that was like the ones the royal women wore in Kings Landing.

When you arrived you were greeted by absolutely no one, it was almost depressing that your parents decided not to accompany you, you would have liked some kind of moral support. Even so, you didn't let that bother you and you continued touring the castle; there was a part of you that wondered why the date was in Kings Landing instead of going directly to the land of your perhaps fiancé. You kept walking and focused on your thoughts, you didn't look ahead and bumped into someone.

— "My apologies" – you said without thinking, looking ahead at who you saw was a knight with slightly dark hair, skin kissed by the sun.

— "Don't worry, my lady." — he said in a very polite way. You took the moment to ask him:

— "Excuse me, do you happen to know where Alisteir Royce is? They told me that he is the apprentice of the king's hand." – you said while every time he uttered a word he seemed to disagree with what he said.

— "My lady, here there is no man with that name, besides the hand of King Otto Hightower has no apprentice, I think whoever told you that lied to you, I am so sorry"

You thanked him and after that you couldn't stop thinking that someone would win by faking this, maybe it had been someone who wanted to see you hurt and that thought worried you. What worried you the most was that someone saw when you kissed Otto...

You were thinking when someone broke into your thinking.

— "My lady, I need to take you somewhere, someone is calling you" – said a short man who looked like he wanted to hide something. You seriously thought about whether to go or not, but in the end you decided to go, after all this was the royal castle, nothing bad would happen to you.

During the way you realized that the man was coming out of the castle with corridors that you had never seen before. You asked him to let go of your hand, which he was clasping tightly, making you question how much strength this short man had. But he kept repeating that he would not let go since you had decided your fate moments before. The fact that he said "your fate" scared you even more, you wondered what he was going to do to you and where he was going to take you. In your mind they went through all your possible destinations, all worse than the other.

Upon reaching your destination there was a door, the man signaled for you to enter, you decided to obey since at this moment he had the power, and you feared what could happen if you refused.

What you saw was Otto. Yes, the hand of the king, the same one who had rejected you, the same one who considered that you were not convenient.

— Darling, you finally arrived, I thought I was going to grow roots from waiting so long. I hope you enjoyed the drive to get here, it's honestly a moving sight. – He said sarcastically, as always. It was one of the things you liked about him.

— Get to the point and say why I'm here. – He got up from his chair and began to get closer and closer to you.

— I just wanted to see how you were, I'll be honest and say that I missed you. – He said as he caressed your dress in a very intimate but not obscene way.

He started to undo your dress by tearing it up, something that went against his calculating nature. Right now it looked like an animal taking its prey. You told him to stop even though inside you didn't want him to stop, but you considered those attitudes inappropriate since you wouldn't have as much value for a future marriage.

— Don't worry, I'll take care that you get married anyway, there are many men who are willing to have a non-virgin woman. But they won't find out that she was fucked by the king's hand. That's just between the two of us. — With his hand he was putting two fingers inside you roughly, although for some reason you loved it.

After a while repeating the movement he slammed you against the desk to put his male member inside you.

after that you didn't remember anything else, only the body of the two colliding, giving a sound of applause. When you felt that he was going to ejaculate, you felt more excited than ever. They had already finished when he spoke.

— I'll give you tea in a second, just let me put it in for a minute." – You didn't know if he knew that this could leave you with a child, but you felt so full that you couldn't form words.

I love making men break dresses I'm so sorry 😔🤷‍♀️

[classicslesbianopinions]

I think for me it's like - sure, I'd be sad if Lloyd won, because I love Antigone, I wanna talk about her, and I want others to know (or learn!) about her and love her like I do! But there's no real gain to winning a silly Tumblr poll other than a but of happiness. So the fact that the second Antigone pulled ahead everyone immediately went "oh, those shitty Greek mythology fans, they WOULD pull a cheat like this to get ahead, especially after how they've been treating Ninjago fans this week".

Because, like, I'm not gonna say there haven't been some jerk Antigone voters in the notes. But first of all - nearly all the 'mean' Antigone voters in the notes are saying things like "How are we losing to a Lego ninja show??" which, while not kind, isn't exactly worth the demonization to immediately assume we're obsessive shitheads who would get bots together OR SPEND MONEY (what classics tumblr user has money to spend on dumb stuff like this, are they real, how can I live like them, let me know blease) to freak out over a. a Tumblr poll. (I'm not talking abt the people who are saying watching a kid's show makes you immature or uncultured, that's silly and wrong.)

Second of all, for as many mean Antigone voters, there are JUST AS MANY Ninjago fans in the notes going "Wow, vote Lloyd to fuck over Greek mythology fans" (augh Antigone isn't even Greek mythology, stop conflating everything that's old and Greek with mythology. Actually, stop conflating everything that's Greek at all with ancient Greece and mythology, but that's a tangent-), "These pretentious shitheads deserve to lose", "Greek tragedy enjoyers are classist and no one even knows who Antigone is these days, vote Lloyd because they deserve to lose", that kind of thing. Like, nothing TERRIBLE, but it's wild to me the leaps in logic right over their hypocrisy. It's shitty to shit on someone's interests because it's media intended for a younger audience, and it's shitty to shit on someone's interests because its media written a long time ago. But now that thoodleoo and Friday Afternoon are swinging in all these Antigone voters (because surprise, just because a story is over two thousand years old and some of us had to read it in school doesn't mean no one likes it! People have always been people, regardless of their time period, and people have always written stories worth reading that people will care about! It scares me seeing so many of my generation reject classic works out of hand! There's a kneejerk reaction to call something old pretentious, dull, irrelevant, and/or problematic, without actually engaging and understanding why it has been so long-lasting, and it's also scary seeing my generation refuse to understand that they are not inherently better just because they are newer, humans have always been writing beautiful and meaningful works!!! Sorry this was also a tangent!!!!!!) suddenly it's "Wow, with the way Antigone voters have been treating Ninjago fans, it's no wonder they're awful enough to rig a vote."

It's just this - hypocrisy, I think, for me. A lot of these people have come to the conclusion that because they are fans of children's media they are being persecuted, but on Tumblr, that's really not true. Most of active Tumblr watches children's media and cartoons, and that's great! There's a lot of good shows out there for kids that have great stories and messages! But they refuse to see they're doing the exact same thing they're accusing us of doing - rejecting a work and a work's fans because of how they generalize the culture. IE, classics culture has to be petty, pretentious, and shitty. That's what's making me upset. I know we have a bad rep for a reason (behold, the scores of shitty cishet rich white men and what they do with classic asethetics and work, good lord) but the same can be said of shitty kid's cartoon fans (I will not go into that kind of person but you know what I mean). There's always going to be bad people who like good things! But equating all people who like what has been a revolutionary and culturally germane tragedy for two thousand years because it is personally relevant and important to them with snobbish jerks who hate you just because you like cartoons, and then deciding there can't possibly be enough of us to win so we have to be cheating... Ugh. Sorry for the rant in your inbox.

yeahhh i just feel like people are making a lot of assumptions which like. yeah that's what people do. but it's frustrating, and also honestly if you reject ancient literature out of hand you might miss out on stuff you'd like! which i mean is also true of just about any media, like i'm not really into kids' shows but also if i mocked and refused to watch any kids' show i would be worse off for it.

there definitely are some antigone voters being genuinely nasty (and particularly in the replies to the poll there are a couple people who really feel the need to belittle people) but i also feel like i've seen pretty nasty stuff from both sides and it's just like... well it would be nice if it weren't like that! And Also most of what i've seen has been pretty lighthearted/all in good fun. so i don't really get the point of acting like either side is 1. a monolith and 2. universally acting in bad faith

i do think it would be silly for antigone to lose in round three of a poll about who's the most tragic character but it's not that big a deal 😭 and also yeah like. who's paying for this. i'm a phd student and i have to pay rent i am not out here buying tumblr votes

[honipaii]

REVIEW TIME!

Okay, I've been waiting to write a review for this one!

Let's introduce Henri from "The Ssum" (Bravo, Bravo!)

I just fell in love with Henri since the first time I saw that post.

Elise broke my heart (I don't hate her) but I understand that mama's boy, I hope they are all happy.

Everyone got them own flaws but Henri had been empathic with me until now. And his voice! His laugh! So heart-warming! Omg, he's so silly and cute and serious and and...!! I love him. I want to know him more!

Update! Spoilers ahead!

I'm heartbroken, Henri isn't a bad guy he's just dependent of his family. Until this day (8th day of his route) I've been able to know him more and more, I really like it. Sometimes he says things that break my chicken heart like this message:

And I'm like 'Gosh, dude! Don't even say that! U r a good man, shut it!'. I don't hate nor dislike him. There're just bad people (Elise, stop. You can still change) that don't understand Henri. It breaks my heart! Do it again, Cheritz!

Update! (Yes, again) And Spoilers! (Again)

Look at him! OhGoshILoveHim! (He broke my heart like 3 times but that's for the sake of the plot)

I love how he's written and his problems too. And with the problems he has, it makes sense for him to act like this. He just needs patience and he needs love too...! (Our, the MC's, love. Not Elise's twisted love)

Update! (Yes, again 222) And Spoilers! (Again 222)

I'M. SO. SUPER. IN. LOVE

I LOVE a man who can talk about casual plans like himmm. I LOVE a man who is happy about the idea of being in the same house as me. (I love the idea of me being loved by Henri).

Let. Him. Cook.

Duudeee, the way I'd literally eat anything this man gives me DUDE.

LET HIM COOK 222 (for me)

Update! (Yes, again 333) And Spoilers! (Again 333)

We are cringe, but we are free. I literally told him to wear cat ears as a joke and HE ACTUALLY DID IT? Gosh- Henri, you're killing me.

Anyways, I can't actually believe that everything with Elise haven't been resolved yet! It's ok (?) to make a fuss because of someone "played" with your child. But because that someone haven't responded ik two days? That someone is a doctor. Doctors have a hard time you know?? I was legit confused.

Your honor! This man is the silliest!

Update 444! Spoilers 444!

Your honor! What!?

I- what? Here I can see that Henri is getting his karma, ik ik he have a red flag or two (or three...) but isn't this a little bit... I don't know... EXTREME? Lord? He literally fainted, I was shocked (Not much, he wanted me to feel sorry (I am but he's nit the only victim here) for him)

Now in 14th day of his route, it's about to end and I'm TREMBLING IN FEAR cuz there still are problems to be solved;;...

Last Update (12-04)

The last day finally came and I'm SOBBING. I ALREADY REACHED THE LIMIT OF IMAGES AND I WANTED TO AHHH

Henri I love him, mom. When he said 'I'll say the rest when I get back to the island. So wait for me' I was DYING, I knew that was the last day, it hurts.

So far I've really liked Henri.

So so much. I mean- the way he's always considerate towards me yet the way he's just like a little kid wanting attention and avoiding culpability because of his parents and childhood makes me want to-!!! It drives me insane how much I grow fond of him of his calm voice when he talks about little things and when he's stressed, seeking comfort in the MC.

I REALLY liked Henri. I'm now testing other ssumone while waiting to another update.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 61 TYRION XIV (pages 770-777)

The Battle of Blackwater - Tyrion Edition, part 2. Tyrion leads a sally outside to defend the gates and banks.

TW: blood and dismemberment

-

On the left, Tyrion was surprised to see Podrick Payne, a sword in his hand. "You're too young," he said at once. "Go back." "I'm your squire, my lord." Tyrion could spare no time for argument. "With me, then. Stay close." He kicked his horse into motion.

Pod! Such a good boy. I like that Tyrion does care enough to try and send Pod back, even if he doesn't succeed, and even if he can't spare any more care in what is about to be a very mentally and emotionally taxing situation.

Ser Mandon dropped the point of his lance at the last possible instant, and drove Joffrey's banner through the chest of a man in a studded jerkin, lifting him full off his feet before the shaft snapped.

While we do not approve of the horrors of war, before this chapter reminds me how viscerally freaking awful things are, I just want to say, from a technical skill stand point with Action Movie goggles on: that was a cool move, full cheers.

aaaand it's setting in how very impaled that man was. Hello Horrors, I was wondering where you'd gone. Maybe I should contact D&D, see where they bought their <Immortal Object> Action Movie goggles.

Ahead of Tyrion was a knight whose surcoat showed a fox peering through a ring of flowers. Florent was his first thought, but helmless ran a close second.

mmm, this is a good bit of action sequence. We have this thought, followed by a laundry list of kills by method, and I do mean laundry list. It manages to give the action a coherence, but also giving it both a detached and frantic energy.

... battle fever? Seems like an adrenaline rush met up with mild disassociation for a hot date.

"I yield, ser," a different knight called out, further down the river. (...) The man lay in a puddle of black water, offering up a lobstered gauntlet in a token of submission. Tyrion had to lean down to take it from him. As he did, a pot of wildfire burst overhead, spraying green flame. In the sudden stab of light he saw that the puddle was not black but red. The gauntlet still had the knight's hand in it. He flung it back. "Yield," the man sobbed hopelessly, helplessly. Tyrion reeled away.

goood, this fucking trope. It gets me every time, even though you always know it's coming in shows, with the camera angle and it's like "Just move the camera, show me what I already know, show me how much of the body is missing, show me how fucked the dying person is."

I think it's worse when they know. When they know but they're still begging for an impossible miracle like there's still some way they could survive it, get out of the situation, wake up and it's all just a horrid dream. Or maybe it's worse when they don't, and they're pleading for their life, but how do you tell someone asking for your help they're already dead.

I need cute cat videos.

One great hulk floated hull up between two smaller ships. Wrecks, but packed so closely together that it was possible to leap from one deck to another and so cross the Blackwater. (...) We made them a bloody bridge, he thought in dismay. Parts of the bridge were sinking and other parts were afire and the whole thing was creaking and shifting and like to burst asunder at any moment, but that did not seem to stop them. "Those are brave men," he told Ser Balon in admiration. "Let's go kill them."

Oh hey it's the line, from the speech, except it didn't go in that speech to begin with.

Also, I don't remember the bridge thing from the show. You've let me down and ripped me off again, D&D.

OH NO! THE HORSES!

GRRM did a really good job with this chapter, the flow of the action from focused in on Tyrion's POV, from concise actions and reactions and build on, to slowly losing contact with what's happening as Tyrion himself looses sense of what's happening. And there's a slight tonal whiplash as well, from Tyrion's focused seriousness, into slightly manic 'battle madness' and then into the post adrenaline fugue as he loses steam.

Yellow and green fire shone against the white of his armor, and his lobstered gauntlet was sticky with blood, but Tyrion reached for it all the same, wishing his arms were longer. It was only a the very last, as their fingers brushed across the gap, that something niggled at him... Ser Mandon was holding out his left hand, why... Was that why he reeled backwards, or did he see the sword after all? He would never know.

Two things with this, first: Lobstered gauntlets by the way, are called that because instead of little plates for each joint, or just one big plate to cover the back of the hand, lobstered gauntlets are kind of like mittens, made with bands that over lap like the bands on a lobsters back/tail. They are not wearing actually lobster shaped gloves complete with pincers. i know, sad but true.

Second: The earlier scene with the man begging to yield with his lobstered gauntlet only for the light of the wildfire to reveal Tyrion was essentially reaching for death being mirrored here? YES! This is the good shit. It's basically immediate pay-off foreshadowing.

Uhn, yes, love! it will haunt my nightmares for a week!

Then someone was kneeling over him. "Jaime?" he croaked, almost choking on the blood that filled his mouth. who else would save him, if not his brother? "Be still, my lord, you're hurt bad." A boy's voice, that makes no sense, thought Tyrion. It sounded almost like Pod.

That's kind of sad, that Tyrion thinks/knows he has so few people who would care for him.

But Yay for Pod!

I'm gonna go... watch some cute cat videos and recover from this chapter. The level of Horrors in this chapter? D&D could never. (Mostly because they were viewing this through Action Movie goggles.)

[victoriousscarf]

For the "get to know your fic author!" 2. 13. 69.? Also I swear I didn't go automatically to question 69 I was genuinely interested in that and only noticed it's the funny number afterwards :'3

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Listen I'm lucky if I have an outline that's just a list of "things I can't forget before the story moves on." I will have a vague notion of "these are 3-4 scenes I need to do nextish" but always with room for them to go off the rails or somewhere totally different.

13. what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

I mean I feel like the obvious one is just write. Like don't stop, don't edit, just write and figure it out later. You'll have a lot of fuckery doing this but you'll also /write./

Also a more obscure bit that I think about sometimes: when I was in 6th grade our teacher made us do these worksheets for everything we wrote where we would have to write down the first word of every line and every paragraph and then like, what type of word it was (noun/verb/etc). I hated doing it at the time but I think about it a lot while writing like whoops too many "he's" in a row lets mix it up.

69. What work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

I mean, the shit I wrote when I was 13 is the most basic answer lmao. I semi-recently went through and yanked it all off ff.net onto Ao3 and took so much mental damage just from copying and pasting it.

But also more generally as a creator you're always going to have things you regret, or things you thought sounded cool at the time that now make you want to die when you think about (Like sorta messing up Nick Fury back in 2012 because it was easy to make him a bit of an antagonistic dick and in hindsight that's not really right but the whole fandom really turned it into a Phil vs Nick thing for a while and the first time I tried to write a cross-dressing character who was probably more of a drag queen than transgender but good lord someone should have taken that away from me a decade ago.)

So I'm not giving you specific fics but like as concepts I have things that looking back make me hide behind my fingers but also you're always gonna end up with bits like that as a writer. It's a good thing when you can look back and be like, wow that was a choice. It means you've grown and will probably do better next time.

[bookshelfmonkey]

So, I've finished my reread of Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White.

This time round, I tabbed a bunch (by that I mean, a metric fuck-ton) of quotes.

Because I'm an english lit student at heart, I'm going to list them here, with a bit of (likely incoherent) analysis where it seems fit.

Hell Followed With Us spoilers ahead. These quotes are in order of when they appear in the book, so read as far ahead as you want.

"'You awake?'

'No'"

Honestly this just reminded me of a book I loved as a kid. We're starting with a light one

"'I'm super trans. Like, an honestly heretical amount of trans. Why?'

I've never met another trans person before."

This took me back to when I first found my community and started to feel a little less alone.

"Make them suffer."

Revenge.

"Shedding my insides out one orifice is more than enough"

"Thanks for the brain rot, Mom"

"Being autistic was just another thing his parents could hold over his head, could carve into his skin as they reminded him what a failure he was."

"he digs his palms into the rough carpet until his skin stops trying to crawl off his body"

Meltdowns. Gotta love 'em.

"His leg is still bouncing, but it always does that"

Despite this being one of my more "socially acceptable" stims, I still get a lot of shit for it. It was nice to see it mentioned in a book.

"and even with Erin, he finds himself trying not to be too autistic"

"Being transgender is who you are. The pain is what happens when you and the world go for each other's throats."

Although I still experience a lot of dysphoria related to my physical form that I still think I would experience if I was never again perceived by another human, a lot of my dysphoria and suffering comes from what the world has done to me. It took me a while to accept that.

"The lengths she's going to in order to avoid saying autistic is admirable"

Yeah, I hate it when people do that. Autistic isn't a dirty word. I also appreciate people not revealing that to others without my consent. It's a difficult line to walk.

"'It's okay to be scared,' he says.

I say, 'I'm scared all the time. I'm tired of it."

Yeah. This is definitely an attitude I get in response to my mental health and I hate it.

"dysphoria had to wrap its hands around my neck and hold me down, baptism in drowning, before I faced the fact that living as a girl would kill me long before the angels did"

"How dare you imply I'm heterosexual. I am disgusted and appalled."

"My dysphoria burns. I'll never get to have that. I've come to terms with it, sure, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

"It's harder for someone to pin you down as a girl when they need a moment to pin you down as human"

"I've always been his boyfriend, his fiancé, his future husband. Always Benjamin. Always me.

All that gets reduced to an elegant, 'Gayyy.'"

"Everything hurts. I want to take handfuls of my face and pull it off."

This feels like a metaphor for dysphoria.

"Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord."

The raw power of some of these lines.

"it is a relief to let go of the wrong pronouns. The actual ones are a blessing because they are the truth, and as much time as Nick spends lying, the truth is beautiful."

"I open my mouth to speak but can't"

"it's helpless, I never asked for this ... I'm a kid, and all I ever do is ruin things"

"'I don't know how to tell if I like someone. I don't know how it works, and I don't want to be wrong.' He says, 'I don't know why you would like me, I don't understand.' He says, 'There are no rules for this. It scares me'"

I can only hope I will find someone who understands this. In the meantime, I have this book.

"I will be good. I will make the angels fucking suffer."

"Do you believe in God?

- I do, please stop, there's so much blood"

"Nick told me that 99 per cent of lying is just figuring out what the other person wants to hear. He said it's what the Angels have always done, and I laughed because otherwise it would have hurt too much to acknowledge"

"I will be good, I will be good, I will be good, and I will feel far worse things than this."

"Hell has followed us onto Earth, and I am the monster that has brought it forth."

"We are alive, we are alive, holy shit, we are alive."

Thank you for listening to this TED talk.