#he cannot be hoodlum

[dadsbongos]

a king, his advisor, and the betrothed

@toxycodone the fic is here fren

11 K words / warnings - reader has vag n wears a dress once, threesome WOAH, p in v + p in a sex, oral (m receiving), kabru is a fan of inappropriate workplace relationships

summary - Laios cannot find a suitor on his own, so Kabru is forced to summon an old... friend... for help.

~~~

“Just… someone you would like, then.”

“Someone I would like?”

“Yeah! If you like them, they must be good, right?”

“This isn’t about… ugh, fine.”

Kabru already knew exactly who to set up with Laios, but he wanted to grant himself a few more hours of delusion by drafting a list of desired traits.

.

.

.

A queen should be: diligent and humble, wise and patient. Honest.

Ideally, a short-lived king should marry from another short-lived race. Any children will therefore be short-lived as well, which Kabru considers highly preferable. Another tallman is his best option to keep infertility sparse.

Laios’ personality will need to be accounted for as well (Kabru finds that the longer he dawdles, the more fun he has hypothesizing Laios’ perfect match).

Laios, specifically, needs someone blunt and unencumbered by conformity -- the man seems to thrive when others feel comfortable speaking frankly with him. Someone from another royal court will not do, and especially not someone descended from direct nobel blood. Furthermore, Laios is clueless as to what his own title ensues, so he does little more for his countrymen than make appearances or pass budgets and bills. So for Kabru’s own sanity, someone intelligent and inclined to make Laios do his actual job is also preferred.

They must balance indulgence and sobriety for the man’s antics, as well as willingness to sit through Laios’ obscure personality.

Wait…

“No,” Kabru scratches that last half of his sentence, ink bleeding across the page, “What kind of matchmaker settles?”

They must like Laios, and Laios must like them. Laios is not a man Kabru can envision enduring loveless marriage, it’d be too awkward and the dolt would have it annulled.

Someone not petrified by monsters and intrigued by Laios’ strange personality, but also not so deranged as to be exactly like Laios.

Again, a single name comes to Kabru’s mind, but this time he does not put it off. He’s had his fun scheming, now he must draft a letter to the Northern Continent. To a village chief’s firstborn -- acquainted well enough with basic politics while also sharing a similar upbringing with Laios.

You’re perfect.

You’re also…

“An ex-party member?” Laios’ eyes skim over the contents of Kabru’s summoning letter, addressed at the top to you, “Cool.”

“Yeah, an ex-party member,” Kabru sighs to himself, imagining Rin beating him over the head with her staff right about now, “I think you should know, I briefly- ”

“Kabru,” Laios shakes his head, grinning, “I don’t care. If you trust them, I do.”

Briefly -- sure -- if an entire year and some months was brief. Kabru sighs louder and decides to let Laios find out on his own, since the king is so determined to look cool and easygoing.

In any case, you’ll be fond of Laios, Kabru’s certain.

Certain, and also dreading.

Year 512

“Where’d you find the space case anyway?”

“You sound upset.”

“Look!” Rin flings a gloved arm straight out, gesturing heatedly towards where the party’s newest member is staring straight at the first floor’s cracked ceiling.

Both hands squeezing the straps of your pack, you leave your throat completely exposed in order to gaze at a dark, faraway roof. The ease with which Kabru could slit your tender neck is comical, he finds it more concerning than charming. Any hoodlum or hooligan could rob and beat you blind and you’d be incapable of a proper defense.

“Let me handle it,” Kabru hopes to placate Rin with a soft grin, its success is limited because Rin’s known him long enough to push through his gushy exterior. She puts up no fight, thankfully, and let him approach you alone, “Hey!”

“Shh!” you hiss cutting your fingers along your jaw to silence him. His shock and horror at your rudeness must be visible because you wave that same hand around and smile, “Sorry. It’s just…”

Pointing up, your stare returns to the ceiling. Eyes wide and lips curled with glee. Kabru heeds and grimaces: glistening slimes the shade of clovers goop between gaping slashes in the ceiling. Pulsating and shivering as one beating organ, Kabru can’t think up a more disgusting sight.

“Slimes are sensitive to the heat we exhale, so the louder you are the easier they can find you.”

Blinking at you as inconspicuous as possible, Kabru asks, “Why stand right under them then?”

“They’re so weird. They don’t look intelligent, but they move around easily and developed such a scary way to trap prey. Pretty neat.”

Kabru has half a mind to cut you out of the party just for saying that, until you tack on a,

“Still super gross, though. We should move before they notice us.”

Kabru nods, watching you cross towards the rest of the party before following with a silent prayer that you’re not actually a monster fanatic.

His prayers are answered on the second floor -- your party is down, Holm and Daya crumpled over on opposite sides of the tree den. Kuro is strewn over a shaking, teary Mickbell with a bloody gash in his back. Rin has a similar slash, only deep in her gut and Kabru can tell she’s bleeding out fast.

While he prides himself on his wit and light thinking, Kabru is horrified by the sight of his party in agony. Planning so far ahead of himself he’s trying to scheme how to charm a passing healer into aiding Rin or reviving Holm, meanwhile he can’t even be certain he’s going to survive this attack. His own life is on the back on his mind, body stiff in preparation to swing his sword and cut off the chicken head of a charging Basilisk.

But how should he cut? It has to have a carotid artery, or a heart, but where? What if his strike is at a wrong angle and the snake side gobbles you all up.

Suddenly, the glint of your sword blinds him -- you snip the snake in half, exploiting the monster’s following stagger to round its body and stab through the Basilisk’s head. Tearing outward and splattering Kabru in blood as the beast drops.

He looks to you in silence, knees sore and wobbly and hands a shaking wreck.

Simply, you say, “The snake head is the real head, so if you attack that end first the chicken tail is distracted and easy to sneak up on,” then, you notice his trembling, “Oh, sorry…”

As if waiting for permission, Kabru’s body gives out once your hands find his shoulders. You smooth a palm over his back while shredding the loose material of your blouse to mop up the mess. Gently soaking Basilisk blood from his face with a frown marring your face, continuously murmuring apologies.

Kabru takes your wrist in his hand, blinking back his shock to sigh, “Thank you.”

Suspecting there’s more words jumbled on his tongue, you patiently wait that way: knelt beside Kabru as he squeezes your wrist.

“I think we should go back to the surface.”

You nod quickly. Much quicker than he’d assume you would given how directly you dealt with the terrifying Basilisk, “Do you want me to head back and get corpse retrievers? I doubt we could carry everyone up by ourselves.”

He takes note of how you specifically exclude Mickbell, presumably due to the young man’s hysterics.

The sharp tang of raw iron is filling Kabru’s nose, he chokes on it. He can’t stand to smell it a second more.

“No,” but inhaling through his mouth makes him taste it, rotting each bud on his tongue, “No. I’m the party leader, I should get them.”

Your eyes are lidding, no shock or awe found in the twinkle of your iris -- you were expecting this response.

“Sure, Kabru, I’ll wait with Mickbell.”

You don’t call him out on it, though.

Once the party has been revived and Kabru’s thrown the men their coins, you suggest the crew return a floor above.

“I’m sure nobody wants to eat where they died, so let’s have lunch up there and save instead of visiting a stall,” you gasp quietly and cover your mouth, then deferring to Kabru, “If that sounds good to you? Sorry… I shouldn’t have spoken so boldly like that…”

“No, you’re right,” even though he’s not looking to confirm, Kabru can feel Rin burning holes into his skull with her glare, “I think that’s a good idea.”

Secretly he’s glad no outsiders heard you make that call -- he isn’t ashamed to be bossed around by someone in a blouse, but he’s also not unrealistic. Others seeing that could threaten his meager status among the adventuring community. He’d be the wimp pushed around by his own members.

Interrupting his spiral, again, is you, “Okay, let’s get going then!” you clamp another hand over your mouth, “Right, Kabru?”

“Right.”

Thankfully, it is just your party who only finds your zealousness comedic rather than an opportunity for mutiny.

Returning visit to the first floor proves you about as useful as the initial one did.

Holm and Daya are unpacking rations with Mickbell and Kuro straggling at the edge of the blondes’ conversation. Rin is fetching water. Kabru is watching you; and he knows he should be either helping Rin, or lecturing you to help Rin, but he keeps watching.

He cannot hear you, but he knows you’re speaking -- crouched to make eye contact with a pair of slight humans. Round cheeks and marblesque eyes tell Kabru they’re just scratching at maturity. Not even thirteen.

The shorter one, a boy with freckles, picks at tender plumes of skin around his nails, knees shaking. He finds no voice, but the girl beside him does. She squeezes the shirt over her heart and her brows furrowed with passion, he can barely make out the words: mage, fourth, corpse retrievers.

One of your hands is perched on your bent knees while the other grazes along the forsaken graveyard, your head tilts and if he really forces his ears then Kabru can hear you ask, “How did you get separated?”

The girl’s shoulders go lax, lip twitching down as she sputters a reply. The boy’s picking grows frantic, his head shaking and voice shivery (this time Kabru can pick up: without her, no chance).

Kabru’s gaze hones on you, dissecting each twinge in your face as you process the information. Daya and Holm’s voices become vague, like buzzing insects, even Rin’s agitated staring from the fountain is pushed out of focus. How will you react to these children?

It's a horrible story, he’s sure. He’s so sure it’s a truly heartbreaking tale about two little ones separated from their ward on a lower level due to a snap decision from fear. However, it could also be just that: a story.

Criminals banned from The Island’s coasts often seek refuge in the bowels of the dungeon. Kabru feels confident that as this dungeon continues to fester unconquered: criminals are beginning to raise their children here.

If you blindly follow them down, you’re a fool. If you hand over all your party’s gold, you’re a fool. If you do nothing, you’re heartless. Heartlessness can be worse than foolishness, at least fools have good intentions.

Fingers wrap around the stem of a limping flower and pull, cutting it clean from the floor and holding the plant for both children. You push your hand closer to the kids, waiting until the girl grasps the flower before speaking again,

Something long winded, and judging by the shudders racketing down the boy’s frail body something rather dismal too. Yet you’re beaming up at the children, then they’re smiling as well. Rising to your feet, you brush moss stains from your knees and wave the children off with a promise Kabru can actually hear,

“If my party finds any retrievers, we’ll send them down.”

With eager nods, the kids sniffle and affirm their bravery to you -- the girl cradling the plucked daisy to her chest. You return to your party’s camp and boldly declare,

“I think we should try reaching the fourth floor soon.”

Rin bonks you with an elbow to the side, “Where’s this enthusiasm when I needed help carrying the water?”

Rubbing the tenderized area, you laugh and accept her frustration, “Sorry. Got caught up.”

“Obviously,” Rin sighs, falling to her knees around the party’s temporary camp.

Kabru sits as well, still observing as you apologize to Rin again though your eyes trailing the kids as they heft food packs onto their shoulders and begin their trek.

Mickbell settles into Kuro’s lap, Daya has begun digging into her plate while Holm ensures everyone has a filling portion. Rin agrees to dissolve the tension, meaning you two can begin gaffing amongst yourselves. As if you never left, the party is normal.

Despite your itch to reach the fourth floor as soon as possible, you don’t mention the interaction whatsoever.

Overall, Kabru considers your first dive with the party a cohesion success.

Year 515

“Don’t speak over or interrupt. Got it?”

“Okay.”

“At all.”

“Alright.”

“I’m serious,” Kabru’s eyes widen a smidge, as if to force how pertinent it is that Laios absorbs this lesson, “I’m still upset about the meeting last week.”

“I didn’t know he wasn’t done talking,” Laios frowns, shrugging in an obnoxiously coy play, the worst part being that Kabru knows Laios does it in earnest. His stupid kicked-puppy stare is entirely genuine, “That guy takes long breaths, it’s hard to tell when he’s done.”

“Well try harder to tell now,” a wave of guilt hits Kabru in the chest, heart squeezing at the sight of Laios’ frown deepening, “I don’t mean to upset you. I just… I want this to go well.”

“I do, too, you know?”

Kabru finds that hard to believe, but Laios isn’t lying to him right now. He’d know otherwise. Whether Laios can make a positive impression will have to be seen, but the man clearly has no intentions of sabotaging himself.

For all his lackluster socio-political ambitions, Laios is still a good king: insightful to the experience of commonmen and quick to new ways of strengthening their country. He has yet to give citizens, or Kabru, valid reason to question his ability to rule.

“I’m sure,” Kabru turns in his desk chair, bracing his forehead with his palm, “Let’s get this finished then.”

“But- “ Laios hesitates when he’s shot an icy glare from Kabru, “But I’m so hungry…”

As if to punctuate his torment, Laios’ stomach grumbles. Loudly. Echoing through the informal setting of Kabru’s personal quarters.

“My poor royal majesty,” Kabru coos, inked with sarcasm, “Will you survive till lunch?”

Laios’ eyes go thin, arms folding, “Don’t demean me.”

“It’s one meal. You’ll hardly die. The faster we finish this paperwork, the quicker we can usher you to breakfast.”

“I want to go now,” Laios, with no sense of self, lays his lips into the crook of his advisor’s neck. Soft, plump flesh scorching Kabru’s pulse, then a cold flash of bone: teeth, “I’m starving.”

Bladepoint canines puncture Kabru’s skin, shock blinding him to the scathing scratch till after Laios has already pulled away. Saliva stringing them together before Laios snaps it, sloppily swiping the wrist of his sleeve across his mouth.

“Disgusting,” Kabru starkly avoids eye contact by glaring at the sheen of spit on his shoulder, cupping the inflamed flesh, “Go change your shirt now, it’s not a handkerchief.”

He doesn’t remember when he first felt comfortable being so venomous around Laios, only that it's easier than trying to be pleasant all the time.

“After I eat?” Laios prompts.

“After you eat,” Kabru massages his tensing temples, working away the headache as it builds.

Upon Laios’ exit, Kabru traces the shallow indents with his fingertips -- lashes fluttering against his cheeks at the resulting faint sting. Now he’ll be forced to find a new shirt of his own, one that hides his bruising mark.

Year 513

“As long as we don’t piss off any living armor, we should be able to get to the fourth floor, at least,” you nod to yourself, hands steady and body firm as you hold up your homemade map of the area.

Raucous groans follow your cheery assessment, and a cursory glance back shows your party in disarray: Rin and Holm have heavy, discolored bags beneath their eyes. Daya is leaning against her axe with quaking arms while Mickbell coils around Kero’s shoulders. Even Kabru can admit he looks worse for wear, or assumes he does because he certainly feels at his worst.

“Oh, unless you all want to head back?” you roll the map up and wave a hand dismissively, almost seeming ashamed of the previous suggestion. Cautious to maintain a soothing and even tone, clearly doing your best to prevent any of them from feeling coddled or mocked.

Not that he truly wants to, but Kabru agrees, “Probably for the best. We’re running low on food, so we should save what we have for the journey back.”

“Makes sense,” you don’t appear disappointed or discouraged, “There’s always next time.”

“Enough optimism,” Mickbell whines, “It’s making me all nauseous.”

“Be nice,” Rin chastises, then looking at you forlorn, “You could probably carry on without us.”

Her dejected lilt prevents any accusations of wanting you to go it alone.

“No way, I’d go crazy by myself!”

Kabru reads that instantly as a lie -- if your scrunching brows and fidgeting hands weren’t telling enough then perhaps you don’t remember confessing to him your days as a solo adventurer.

You could easily carry on without the rest of the party. Hell, you could even join a better, stronger party -- the Toudens, maybe. They’d chomp at your skills if they cared even a little about their fellow men. Kabru bets you would even be able to form a party of your own with ease.

“We’re strongest when everyone’s at their best, after all,” you reassure, turning your back on the dream to hit fourth floor this crawl in favor of aiding your party’s exhaustion, “As long as we can go that deep eventually, I’ll die happily.”

Kabru doesn’t bring up how rapidly approaching the date for you to sail back home is, he gets the sense you wouldn’t want him to.

“Well don’t go keeling on us as soon as we do,” Rin’s scowl loosens, only slightly, when you smile in return and loop an arm through hers.

“Of course, not, Rin. Who else would terrorize you if I died?”

Quickly, the mage’s dark eyes flick to Kabru before returning to you, “I have an idea.”

“Oh, duh.”

Her gaze lingers on the way you’re staring at Kabru and how Kabru stares back. She must read his fondness because her forehead wrinkles up and she tugs you forward, “Yeah, duh.”

Year 515

Kabru’s foot taps impatiently, knowing it’d be improper were he to rush over and help you down from the carriage himself. But forgive the man, he’s in a hurry to have you at his side again.

He wonders if you wear the same perfume.

He wonders if you’ll take to Laios immediately, or will it take the entire two weeks before your wedding ceremony for you to warm to him?

Most of all, he wonders if he can compose himself during the entire courting process.

“Hey!”

Kabru’s mind snaps back into the present at your call, you’re charging over with an ecstatic wave. He waves back, calmer and centered towards his chest.

“It’s great to see you again!” you effortlessly knock the polite handshake Kabru extends aside to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “Imagine my surprise, the first time you send a letter is to try and marry me to a king!”

“I never found the time to write back when things finally got interesting,” Kabru bluffs, returning your hug. Warmth spreads between the both of you, if he focuses hard enough he can make out the dull thud of your heart, “Hopefully this makes up for it.”

“Definitely,” you pull back, rolling your eyes, “Father made my brother village chief while I was on The Island, so there wasn’t anything left for me to do there.”

“Perfect time to get one up on your brother. Even just marrying into royalty is better than village chief.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Let’s meet Laios Touden first. I remember he was kind of a weird guy, no?”

“He still is,” Kabru shrugs, turning to guide you into the main hall as men lug your bags towards the castle’s south wing, “He’s nice, at least. Wants to make living easier,” he glances back at you over his shoulder, “Handsome, too. You must remember what he looks like.”

“I remember he was big.”

“Strong, yeah,” Kabru slows to match paces with you through the rolling corridors, “Nice jawline, pretty eyes, and the slope of his nose isn’t terrible. He’s kind of an outstanding specimen, physically I mean.”

“Oh…” you press a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing at his rambling, “So his looks do the heavy lifting?”

“Just something to keep in mind,” he pauses outside a set of tall double doors, one hand braced against the hanging, solid black handle, and the other drawing circles into his temple, “His unique personality hasn’t faded with becoming king.”

“How interesting.”

“That’s a word for it.”

Laios is slumped comfortably back into his throne, sunlight complimenting his bored expression before he notices the pair pushing through his grandeur. Immediately, his eyes sink into you, scrawling from the top of your head to your feet in blatant observation. Staunchly, his gaze remains respectful to your modesty, indicating he’s purely sizing you up; perhaps confirming whether or not he could take you in a fight. Or to use you as a meager replacement for his monsters, studying your anatomy and mentally attaching tails and horns and heads where he sees fit.

“King Laios,” you politely remain behind Kabru. Your own gaze lurches over the king’s body as well, much less clinical than his examination -- you already know you could take him in a fight. What you want to imagine now, is if he’s the outstanding specimen that Kabru claimed, “So nice to see the Golden Kingdom for myself.”

“Prettier than the North,” Laios, much to Kabru’s unspoken irritation, scratches the back of his head without grace, “You’re from there too, right? How has it been? I haven’t been in awhile.”

“Oh, you know,” none of the men from your village look like Laios, despite their hard labor they aren’t built like him. Big. Beefy. Chewable also comes to mind; you could chew him up and be full of protein. From the little pouch of his stomach you surmise he isn’t cut or excessively defined, which drives you mad, “Same as usual. Cold and quiet.”

“Mhm. How about the monsters up top? I don’t think anybody from my village was willing to slay them,” he folds his arms, legs spreading as he readjusts for comfort, head ticking curiously, “I’ve been thinking lately that they could be overrun by monsters if nobody fights them off.”

Kabru’s irritation grows, having to claw at his thighs to restrain from choking the man. He may be older and bigger and more powerful than Kabru is, but Laios is the most painfully oblivious man in the world. He just has to be. He’s so focused on not attacking his king that Kabru almost misses how eyes scald his side at the mention of monsters overtaking the North.

“I haven’t noticed anything unusual,” and you mean that, the North truly is as boring as it was when you were growing up, “Maybe more acceptance for magic, but that’s mostly to combat the increase in ghosts.”

“Increase in ghosts,” Laios’ eyes bulge, posture straightening out in vivid excitement, “Do they know why there’s so many? Do they just wander around, or do they remain in cemeteries?”

“Ah, King Laios,” you try to hide the way your eyes bounce repeatedly towards Kabru’s rigid frame. His hands are balled, even shaking, and his stare is aimed over the king’s right shoulder, “Perhaps we could get some privacy before discussing such things?” you boldly step forward, correctly assuming Laios would take no offense at the intrusion, “We should get to know each other on our own.”

“Oh, right!” Laios waves a dismissal towards Kabru, apologizing for holding the man so long.

You don’t ask Kabru if he’s okay before he leaves, but you take one of his hands and squeeze it gingerly. Smiling tenderly and bidding him well. A soft halo of gold ringing around your head from sunlight pouring through glass panes.

“Don’t let- ” just as he’s apologizing for his king, you silence Kabru.

“I’ll form my own opinion,” you release his hand, still grinning, “You trust me, don’t you?” he nods, of course he does, “So trust me to gather my own thoughts, okay?”

Oh, God that cannot be a good sign.

Please, please, please -- he’s contemplating getting on his knees to pray outside the doors -- please don’t let his reaction to Laios’ monster obsession make you hate the king. You’re his only choice, the only one that will do!

You’re kind and strong willed and beautiful and he’d love to have you living under the same roof as himself.

Not that that has anything to do with his decision. No, no, that would be idiotic.

That would be the worst plan he’s ever planned in his entire life. So, he’s glad it's separate from his real motivation.

At least, he’s glad until that night. Alone in his bed with only moonlight shining along his pristine sheets.

For hours Kabru has been cooped in his room, and technically he’s been cooped in his mind even longer. Since the second a passing pair of guards relieved him from lingering outside the throne room, Kabru blindly stumbled through his messy thoughts.

Worse now than ever before is the desperation to know. Clawing him apart from the inside out. He needs to know.

To know what you’re feeling. To know what’s being said. To know why you two never came out, even hours after Kabru left. In explicit detail, he must know. What you like about Laios, what you don’t, what you find attractive, if you got hot in the face when you saw him, if you ever felt that way about Kabru, if you think Kabru’s attractive, if you accepted his invitation just because Kabru sent it or because you truly wanted to meet Laios.

He can’t just ask, so now he must meticulously set up a series of precision events to fish the information out.

Because your hesitance to emphatically accept the proposal confuses Kabru. You’ve never been particularly picky about partners, but you’re not the type for manufacturing attraction to spare a person’s feelings. So theory one is that Laios is not physically appealing to you.

Though not even that explanation makes sense. To be short, Kabru doesn’t understand how you couldn’t be attracted to Laios. Such strong, determined features demanded attention; and trust, the attention would be positive.

Broad shoulders and meaty thighs, Laios’ build is admirable on its own: Kabru could sink his teeth into Laios’ bicep and never cut bone. Aside from that is the healthy fluff of blonde hair his king keeps trimmed, as well as his face. Remaining clean shaven gives an air of proper hygiene and self-sufficiency that makes Laios seem more attractive.

Kabru cannot fathom how you’re not preparing vows yet.

That thought makes him shoot up in bed, eyes wide and a hand curled into his churning gut.

Why can’t Kabru fathom how you’re not preparing vows? Why does he find it so peculiar?

That type of questioning, this obsession -- it implies Kabru wants to prepare vows, doesn’t it?

With ragged grumbling Kabru collapses back into his mattress, letting his fried brain melt through his ears as he finally attempts giving in to sleep.

…

He wakes to a nightmare the next morning -- you and Laios are alone in the great hall, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the end closest to the kitchen. Chairs pushed so close the armrests are peeling against each other, elbows knocking as Laios forgoes all table etiquette. Not once do you scold or demean him. Instead seeming too engrossed at the ear-nibbling of shapeshifter trivia Laios is laying down.

“Did you ever run into one?” Laios asks, eyes a little too glittery for someone who must’ve woken quite early for this private breakfast, “My dad had our dogs follow herds so we could spot them in the flock.”

“Dogs can tell which sheep are fakes?”

“Oh, yeah! Dogs can tell by the smell,” Laios taps his nose, “I wonder what the difference is, don’t you? Do they smell more sweet, like dirt? Or do they have no smell at all since their illusions?”

“Maybe a Kobold would be able to tell you? Their anatomy is dog-like, after all.”

“I thought so, too! But there’s not many Kobolds native to the North.”

“Well, hopefully you can find out one day,” then you bite for more monster facts, “I did always wonder what my own shapeshifter could look like. Don’t they read people’s minds to make their copies?”

Laios’ silverware clatters away, tinking loudly on the glass plate, hands flexing hysterically, heart jumping to his tongue, “They do, they take other people’s interpretations of you to confuse your company into keeping it around.”

“How thrilling,” you muse.

“It’s a shame I’ll never get to see or make another one,” he lifts his fork, pushing meat and eggs around his plate glumly, “Would’ve been fun to see what you look like in my memory compared to the real thing.”

“You can tell me now,” your palm bares his shoulder, leaning over your chair and towards his own. Laios’ honey eyes dip, tracing the shape of your lips which makes you lean even closer, “How is it that you see me, Laios? Would I be flattered?”

“I hope so,” he blurts.

Kabru backs away, rattling door hinges before slumping back into the corridor. Rotten thoughts of how lovely you are corroding his brain. You’re so lovely to nip at your betrothed’s interest wholeheartedly, no matter how unconventional.

You’re so lovely it's all consuming.

You’re so lovely he can’t remember when or why, exactly, he fell in love with you.

You’re so lovely he thinks he might have just always been your emotional pin cushion.

There remains to be a single thing Kabru could name that made him fall in love with you.

Kindness is much too bland of a trait. And you wanted the wellbeing of others, but that’s something Kabru expects from people. You are pretty, but that’s no reason to daydream about buying a house together. Perhaps it was a combination of all three that mixed lethally well with how much time you spent together.

That, with how detrimental party romances are to group fallouts, maybe made you more desirable? Could that be it?

You were a new, fascinating person he couldn’t pick apart as soon as he gazed upon you, and you knew exactly how to swerve his expectations. You loved listening to him mutter about the interlocked nature of humans: one man cheating on his wife in Kahka Brud undoing a port in Melini. But you stepped away from interpersonal Island gossip. You could rattle out seven variations of man-eating plants but couldn’t stand to even look upon the vegetation without grimacing.

Approachable with a thin smile and batting lashes, beautiful and quiet. Very quiet. You hardly ask anything of others. It should make you seem ominous or menacing, but no part of him feels endangered by you.

Kabru always felt so comfortable around you that, despite knowing his other party members longer, he found you the easiest to converse with. Before he could realize himself, you’d crawled over so many emotional walls without letting him bypass a single one of your own.

You’re his worst nightmare, he craves you more than oxygen.

Year 513

The tavern door opens with an outrageous squeal. If the mood were different, then you would probably make a humorous remark about the aged hinges. But the mood isn’t different. Things are tense and he just wants to go home now.

Even twinkling stars blink away to avoid giving his humiliation anymore attention. Moonlight rudely oozes over you both, though, reminding him how much he prefers the sun. The moon always seems to follow him when he’s whirled in his worst turmoil.

You step into the tavern first, holding the cranky door open for him. He’d thank you like the upstanding young man his mother raised… if only the mood were different.

Silently, Kabru trails behind you, cheeks blistering hot and palms moist, with his head bent. You two make it back to the table circled by your party, sans Daya due to a more pressing engagement with her fiance. Rin’s perma-scowl cracks briefly into blatant shock at his slouch before schooling herself into re-wrinkling her face. Confusion curling into the folds of her glabella.

“What happened?”

Per usual, you answer for Kabru, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” anger seems to flash briefly over her for a moment, a spasm so minute only Kabru can spot it, “Really?”

He’s not surprised she’s upset about him, shamefully, trying to woo you during a night out with the party. What surprises him is that her anger is solely directed at you.

At least until you nod firmly, “Nothing happened, Rin.”

Then pity laxes her irritation, she spares Kabru a flicker of eye contact before mumbling an ‘okay’. She ends up remaining largely silent for the rest of the night, only extending responses when directly prompted.

What else surprises him is the ease with which you lie. Something happened, just not how he wanted it to play out.

Maybe he didn’t notice because of his drowned mood, but Kabru swears you didn’t exhibit any of your usual tells when you spoke.

(the fact he harps on your physical tells will make him so mad he cries later tonight)

Year 515

“He’s going to burn their ear off, I’m telling you…” Marcille grumbles.

“I think it's cute,” Falin grins.

“Of course, you do,” Marcille sighs, though smiling fondly at the girl while scritching around her plumage. Falin chirps happily and nuzzles into Marcille’s shoulder, “He’s your brother, you never think he’s as weird as he is.”

Kabru speaks boldly, which he knows is unlike himself but he’s so eager to show that he knows you more than them that he cannot stop himself, “They can bond over the monster talk, at least.”

“Are they even into monsters?”

“Kind of?” he backtracks, realizing that he isn’t sure how to answer her question, “They hate monsters, but they know a lot.”

“Good on you for finding someone like that, then,” Marcille shrugs, “They might actually have a good marriage.”

Kabru tenses, even though he shouldn’t (because he knows why you’re here, so he can’t exactly get depressed when other people bring it up), “Yeah. They will.”

“For a while, I thought you’d marry my brother,” Falin says suddenly. Eyes sharp on Kabru’s figure.

Marcille guffaws, “Why would you say that?”

She shrugs before letting her eyes relax to their usual serene state, “They get along well. And Laios likes him. Laios doesn’t usually like people.”

“I guess you have a point,” Marcille waves a figurative flag before gesturing to the room around them, “But we’re not planning their wedding.”

“Yeah…” Falin sighs like she’s the one most disappointed.

Kabru says nothing, only returning to the list of ale and wine suppliers eager to vend for the upcoming royal wedding. His eyes skim names he’s heard various reviews for, but his brain takes none of them in. Rather, he’s fixated on what Falin said.

She could see it?

Could they have gotten married?

If Kabru forgot you completely, or even better never met you, could it be him stepping up to the altar? Would Laios have him?

Laios doesn’t usually like people. but in crowded meetings, it's solely Kabru that Laios searches for. And it’s the sight of Kabru that makes Laios sigh in relief. And it’s the sound of Kabru’s voice that Laios waits for before delivering a response.

At dinner, back when they ate together before you monopolized mealtimes, Laios always ensured Kabru had twice his fill before calling it a night.

(“Even though we’re not fighting in a dungeon anymore, I still think you should retain your strength.”

“You sound like you just like watching me eat.”

“Maybe that, too. You have a nice mouth.”

Kabru never responded to that, too petrified over the implications. Now he thinks he probably should have, maybe it would have meant he’d be marrying a king.)

Falin was right in that Laios doesn’t take to people easily, and he’s sure that’s all she meant. But Kabru knows that her statement is a criminal oversimplification of Laios.

Laios likes people so much he’s gone on potentially endless, potentially fruitless, endeavors for them. Laios likes people so much he makes them harpy eggs because they seem minorly interested in monster cuisine. Laios likes people so much he makes sure they’re treated with the utmost dignity. Laios loves people, and suddenly the thought of you becoming one of those select people is getting harder to grieve.

Laios’ love is not limited, but now Kabru’s forced to come to terms with the fact that Laios’ romantic love for him is--

“So, did you pick yet?” Marcille and Falin are swatching fabrics from the cushy loveseat of the main library, “I’ve heard of a roach outbreak in Smisson’s breweries, so I hope you didn’t get attached.”

Kabru jolts upright and shakes his head, saying the first dumb thing he can think of, “I heard of that, too.”

Falin giggles, “He’s the one that told you about it, Marcille.”

“Huh? You’re kidding!” a furious blush overtakes the elf, “I’m sorry, I don’t know how I forgot that!”

Kabru shakes his head again, swallowing roughly, “It’s fine.”

Really, it’s all fine.

Year 513

“Everyone wanted to be here,” Kabru chuckles quietly, as if raising his voice could somehow wake the entire Island.

“I’m sure,” there’s no hint of sarcasm in your voice, “They were with me late last night, so… I didn’t really expect anyone to see me off,” you giggle softly, a hollow sound he doesn’t take very kindly, “I’m surprised you made it.”

“It’s the least I could do after everything you gave the party,” with no decorum he scratches the back of his neck, and avoids looking you in the face, “It’ll be harder in the dungeon without you.”

“I believe in you.”

His breath hitches. He looks at you. A barely-there smile and tired eyes. It may be the most honest he’s seen you. He’s tempted to ask how you meant that ‘you’, but doesn’t.

He doesn’t even speak until you’re boarded -- until he’s forced to raise his voice so you can hear him over a bustling crew and fellow passengers.

“If I send letters, will you read them?” Kabru silences you before you can open your mouth, “Will you respond?”

Then, you’re smiling wider, and your eyes are tight with joy. It isn’t the usual siren cant of droopy lids, it’s pure elation. You’re laughing at his question, shoulders bouncing gleefully. You’re nodding. You speak between chortles, as if he asked you what color the sky was.

“Of course, I will!”

You look more beautiful than he’s ever seen you before.

“Okay, I’ll write you, then.”

“You better!”

Your ship rocks as it sets off from the dock, but you don’t disappear beneath the ridge. In fact, you almost hang over it, torso flattening against wood and nails digging for purchase as you wave.

Kabru waves back. He runs down the dock like a fool, barely catching himself from tumbling into the lapping ocean.

“Bye, Kabru!” you’re still smiling, bathed in soft orange and soothing yellow -- your voice grows distant over crashing waves, “I’ll miss you!”

He keeps waving. He waves and he waves and he doesn’t stop until your ship is behind the horizon. Only then does his hand fall to his side, eyes sopping wet and chest squeezing.

He feels pathetic.

He misses you already.

Year 515

Days prior this morning, the grand hall was cleared out -- pews replaced the needlessly long cherry oak dining table. Flowers plotted in tall carved vases with white lace and silk choking the necks, a velvet track from the altar through open doors to the courtyard. People from across the continents were invented, diplomats to friendly nobles to acquaintances Laios does not remember to true friends to your father and brother and Falin.

(“You don’t want to invite your parents?” Kabru re-evaluates his list of guests, “Seems uncouth, no?”

“What do I care?” Laios’ legs are splayed, thighs pressing against either side of the gold throne, “A wedding is meant to be happy, why would I need people I don’t like there?” he knocks a fist back into Kabru’s chest, letting his knuckles linger over the man’s heart only as long as he can say, “I have you, and my betrothed, and my friends. Really, that’s all I need.”

“It’d be rude to- ”

“I get it,” Laios’ hand falls back onto his armrest, fingertips skimming the rounded metal edge, “This is why I’m leaving it to you, I trust you.”)

Out of all the tedious preparation, dressing Laios was the most tragic in that the king hated everything the handmaids and servants stuffed him in. Countless hours were wasted before they begged Kabru to help, only then did the king settle:

No crown, terminally unsurprising, since Laios abhorred the weight and feel of it on his head. Rather, he would adorn himself with that dreadful Winged Lion’s pelt, and a vermillion cotehardie reaching mid-thigh with gold trim. Leather belt tethered around his waist gave the fabric shape whilst holding up loose britches. Daggered teeth of various beasts lined his neck, which Kabru was privy to each and every complaint over the sensory nightmare they provided. He’s sure as soon as Laios can, he’ll be tearing the necklace off.

Dressing himself, regardless of Laios’ multiple emphatic encouragements, was a similar exercise in disaster:

It felt massively inappropriate to wear something so shiny and attractive as gold on another man’s wedding night, even as Laios insisted Kabru wear whatever he pleased. Still, Kabru chose silver earrings and accents. Sparkling and flattering, yes, but nothing so bold. He did splurge with a sapphire blue kirtie that made his eyes shine brighter, and a simple chain of pearls. He felt attractive, and joyous.

Joyous for tonight. Joyous for a wedding! Yes, simply so ecstatic for tonight’s marriage.

Truthfully, Kabru is so overjoyed for his king, he really could just fucking die.

From joy. And happiness.

Because what makes it even better is how you look happy. Actually happy. No low gaze or siren simper, just pure, carefree merriment as you link hands with Laios. Reciting vows from a flushed, teary-eyed Marcille. Neither of you has that gleam or honeydew sparkle of pure love, but Kabru is good at his job: zero doubt swims in his mind that you two will be a pair truly enamored with each other.

His misery must be unfiltered in the back of the grand hall, far behind the rest of the wedding party, because Rin’s dark eyes are piercing through the side of his skull. She’s frowning up at him, arms folded.

She murmurs, “You should’ve said something.”

Kabru grins at her sardonically, “I should’ve broken up their engagement? You didn’t even like us interacting when they were in our party.”

“That’s- !” her cheeks stain red, an annoyed huff rattling her whole body, “They never told you why they rejected you, right?”

Kabru’s silence is answer enough. It’s also more unsettling to Rin than any dungeon monster she’d encountered.

“They knew that I wanted you,” Rin clears her throat, embarrassment trying to choke her into silence, but she overcomes it for the sake of her friend, “So, out of respect, you were refused and never told why.”

Kabru loves Rin, as a sister. He loves her so much he’d kill for her, because she’s like his sister. He loves her so so so much that he cannot even be mad at her, because part of him always considered her somewhat to blame for your rejection of him.

For an agonizing, silent few seconds, Kabru just stares down at her with those crystalline eyes. Blinking himself from his stupor, Kabru asks the dumbest question he could think of, “Did they want to say yes?”

Rin’s frown deepens, forehead wrinkling, “Is that something you really want to know?”

Laios is a terrible kisser, and out of respect you cover your mouths with a hand as he maps out your lips with eyes clenched. Kabru told him not to close his eyes too early, and naturally Laios did not listen. Thankfully you’re there, hiding Laios’ possible humiliation with one hand and guiding him with your other on his jaw.

“No,” Kabru sighs, “Not really.”

That’s the biggest lie he might’ve ever told Rin.

Still she pats his back sympathetically, even laying her head against his shoulder.

Celebration begins, food laid free for grabbing and wine flowing like water -- especially into Kabru’s gaping maw. It's sour on his tongue, but as far as he’s seen it's him alone that scrunches his face and shakes out his hair at the taste, which only has him feeling crazier.

.

.

.

“Isn’t this foul?” Kabru scoffs, slumped over one of the many strewn tables in the general ballroom, cramped posture making him seem smaller. Ordinarily this is embarrassing. Ordinarily he’s not drunk.

“I don’t notice anything,” Chilchuck swigs from the clear chalice in his hand.

Marcille takes a civilized sip for herself, unspoken concern that their friend’s taste in alcohol is not utmost dependable, “I don’t notice anything either.”

Kabru swirls his wine, staring into the dark spiral and wondering if a bug of some type sensed his grim mood and decided to drown itself and poison his cup.

“I’m going to get a new drink, then,” Kabru rises, bidding the pair well as he guns for the barrels of frothy ale.

People cheer and clack maizers, spilling various toxic cures onto the floor making his shoes stick with loud clicks. Something he doesn’t bother with knowing Laios will seek him out once the stains are discovered.

Laios, Laios, Laios: speaking of.

Kabru’s gaze floats across the party to find his king, who is staring off with hands fidgeting in the drape of his Winged Lion’s pelt as your father speaks. An unfortunate sight, one he’s itching to rectify when a lengthy gown flows into his vision.

Dashing and soft and yours.

Sage fabric glides along the floor, intricately sewn floral trim skittering along the ground. Flowers of lace and yarn decorate the bust and sleeves, even a crown of colorful buds blooms atop your head. Rings of gold link around your fingers. Hair swept away to unveil your face, coiled and braided with, unbelievably, more flowers dancing between the tresses. Faint lavender and tangerine lingers around you in a hypnotizing haze, culling lovestruck head-turns of men and women with your every step.

“Your husband’s alone with your father.”

“They’ll come out alive, or we’ll hear them killing each other,” you pull out a seat at the longest central table and gesture to the chair directly beside you, “Sit. We never got to properly catch up.”

Kabru sees you have wine. He suddenly craves the sour grape flavor (maybe all he was missing was the sensation of licking it off your lips). From what he remembers, Laios was holding wine as well. Kabru considers stretching out to steal a second taste.

Although, sugary enough is the sound of your voice, suddenly his fresh mug of ale is entirely forgotten.

“Kabru?”

You’re so pretty, Kabru could tear his eyes out now and not miss a single greater sight. Especially when you’re -again- bathed in the pouring gold sunlight through grand windows, tranquil beside him at the long table. As if there isn’t a single other spot you prefer, you sit right next to him with a chalice of the worst wine he’s ever had.

“Hey, Kabru…”

His hands shake with the need to hold you. Chest raging with his uncontrollable heartbeat. His head hurts with the knowledge that there really isn’t a place he prefers more than by you (even if he’s forced to drink alcohol so foul it's comparable to sewage).

“Kabru,” your touch startles him, pout and knitted brows capturing his whole attention, “You’re not even listening to me!” you laugh, shaking off his incompetence so easily it makes him want to thank you with a kiss, “Are you drunk?”

“Huh?” he lowers his head into his hands, “Yes,” he lies to you, “Yes, that must be it.”

“Poor thing, I thought you were better at holding your liquor.”

“Your memory is fading…”

“Oh, well, suppose me and the king will have to tuck you in. Make sure you get to bed safely without bumping into anything expensive.”

Kabru gags, pushing himself up from his seat and dashing towards the nearest bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach (wine, mead, beer, and beer’s good brother ale).

Tears sting his eyes, snot beginning to leak from his nose as he spits into the toilet bowl. You and the king. The king and you. You and Laios: married. Perfect union. And Kabru did it all to himself. He wanted so desperately to drink himself under the table to forget, and you just had to go reminding him.

You are the worst person he’s ever met, and so is Laios! Your commitment to respect is disgusting, and Laios’ trust in him is an absolute travesty. You two should just hurry up and keel over instead of shoving your romance in Kabru’s face; and if either of you ever thanks him for setting you up then he’ll gut you both that very instant.

Laios and you are terrible, awful, no good devils -- and he wants you both so bad he’s vomiting in the bathroom on your wedding night.

Maybe he can send you both off on a honeymoon? Yes, yes. And while you’re away, he’ll drown in responsibility by day and pretty faces by night. Upon your return, he’ll have forgotten he was ever smitten.

No, who is he kidding? That would be a pointless venture.

You’d be so giddy to tell Kabru allllll about your trip while Laios would show off trinkets he picked up with that charming smile, Kabru would fall right back here. Puking and crying. He should just resign totally. Rot away in bed and die so he never has to see either of you again.

How cowardly.

How unbecoming.

Kabru could kick himself.

Rin was in his position more or less (...less, though, definitely less) and still had the nerve to face him every day for years. She didn’t run away, and she didn’t make her party suffer because of her feelings -- so how could Kabru extend the kingdom’s wellbeing over his? Without him, Laios would socially drown with a village chief’s firstborn as a life preserver.

You’re smart and well-versed in reading others, but you’re not Kabru for God’s sake. You can’t apply half of what you know, not to mention you don’t even care to learn.

Wiping off his mouth and flushing the toilet, Kabru stumbles toward the doorway with a prayer in his pocket to find water soon.

Returning to the chipper scene, Kabru can instantaneously spot Laios flagging him down, with his spare hand curved into the base of your spine.

He dodges you both and retires to bed. Lightheaded and miserable, he’s asleep quickly.

Then, suddenly, he’s not.

.

.

.

He’s outside Laios’ room.

Did his feet carry him here subconsciously? How pathetic…

Kabru is fully prepared to turn back and amble to his room when there’s a sound from the other side of the door. A sharp gasp and whine, then your giggling, and Laios’ voice pleading for you to be nice to him. More murmuring, then a soft moan. A lofty sigh.

Song of a consummation.

Foolishly, Kabru hadn’t thought that your sex life was something he’d have to encounter directly. And despite knowing he should step away, if not out of honor then at least to preserve his own heart, Kabru’s curiosity bolts him to the floor.

He’s never seen Laios fuck.

He’s never seen you fuck, either.

He feels compelled to study -- how does your subdued front mesh with Laios’ eager hands? Which of you takes control? With his bigger size and more powerful title, one would assume Laios, but Kabru bets it's you. Will you make him wait? Would he dive between your thighs with fervor? How will the lip stain your ladies painted you with look slathered across Laios’ pale skin?

Despite knowing what it says about his character, Kabru stays. On some level to get it through to himself that you two are together and off-limits; and on a deeper, truer level because he’s sick in the head.

As was the plan anyway, until a booming, “Hey!” echoes from down the dim hall. A guardsman fast approaching from his patrol route. Kabru’s face is hidden by the dark, figure easily mistaken for a passing servant. But even if the guard could recognize him, would it matter?

What reason does the royal advisor have for lingering outside his king’s chambers so late into the night?

Lies fly through Kabru’s brain as the guard bristles closer, none of them plausible. Finally, the idea of killing this man cycles through his mind, and he reconciles with the fact that must be his only option to avoid an obscenity charge.

“Oh, you came!” a soft hand lands between Kabru’s shoulder blades, voice floating past him and to the guard now two feet away, “Thank you for your faithful service, but don’t concern yourself with him. Our king summoned him,” your laugh soothes Kabru’s tensed muscles, “I wasn’t sure he’d make it because of the hour.”

Kabru stares at you, not bothering to hide his confused, jaw-hanging stare as the guard retreats to his typical patrol.

A thin silk robe drapes over you, loosely tied at the waist and exposing much of your chest.

“I never took you for a pervert, Kabru,” such a mellow voice makes even your scalding accusation sound sweet. You whirr him around by the arm and lug him into yours and Laios’ newly shared room. All proprieties trapped outside but trepidation slithers through, lodging in his gullet.

Laios lays on the bed, exposed completely. Tousled sheets bunched between his hands and under his thighs. Cheeks flushed redder than the head of his cock, hard and slapped against his stomach. Wide spread thighs and heaving chest bountiful eye candy.

“How’d you know it was him?” Laios sounds devastatingly breathless, eyes low and ruby lips swollen.

“Hunch,” you answer plainly, petting down Kabru’s arm until your fingers lace with his.

Kabru murmurs your name, wide eyed. You knew?

Of course, you knew. How could he have thought anything else? Your calm nature about the whole ordeal solidifies that you must’ve known for a long while. Longer than him, even. When would you have figured it out?

“He’s beautiful,” you perch your chin on Kabru’s shoulder, cooing into his ear, “You were always so focused on his face, you’ve never gotten to see anything beneath his clothes, have you?”

Oh, right. The very first day you got here, obviously.

Laios rolls his head from one shoulder to the other, brows pinching in frustration, heated gaze straying from Kabru to you, “He’s going to touch me, right?”

“Depends,” your hands skim up Kabru’s spine, nudging him forward, “Kabru, do you want to touch your king?” one arm glides around his front, fingers toying with the band of his trousers, “And myself?”

“Uhhh…” can he be honest with himself? Can he lay himself bare before not one, but two people? Two people he’s interested in above all else. Heat laps from the barrel of his chest, scorching from cheeks to ears to forehead as sweat beads along his hairline and the back of his neck.

“I asked a question. I need a response.”

Laios’ cock twitches against his abdomen, throat croaking around desire.

“Yes,” Kabru exhales, heavy, barbed, and thorny, cutting him up inside until he’s too weak to stand. Sinking onto the mattress by his knees, “I will.”

Laios’ eyes flick from Kabru’s face down to his weepy erection.

He wants Laios in his mouth. Wants the warmth slapping his tongue, burrowing towards the cinch of his throat. He wants to grope the bulge his king forces through his neck and feel your hands buried in his dark hair. The latter need is fulfilled, your fingers combing through dark curls to push him into your husband’s crotch.

“What a pretty mouth, Kabru, you love to run it,” you climb onto the bed beside him, holding Laios steady by the base, “Try something new, hm?”

“New is- ”

“Try it, Kabru. Now,” regardless of the choppy demand, your voice remains dulcet. Pillowy and fluffy. He could melt into your sound.

His tongue lolls to slather the underside of Laios’ cock with hot saliva, enveloping the man in his mouth. Cheeks hollowing and lashes batting wetly up at the king, crimson deepening on Laios’ face. Behind him, the mattress dips and shakes, Laios’ eyes jumping from baby blues to over Kabru’s back, hips jerking against his chin.

Your hand lifts from inky hair, curls slipping between your fingers in vain attempts to tether you against his skull. Now both your palms run up Laios’ chest as you mold against his side. Your thighs spread around one of his arms and robe nowhere to be found, painted lips smear rouge up Laios’ neck and cheek before you claim his lips.

One of Laios’ hands cradles Kabru’s head, not rudely pushing nor wrangling his hair, just an affectionate reminder of whose cock is in his throat. Meanwhile, the hand between your thighs crooks towards your heat, middle finger ringing your clit -- earning a jump and heave from you.

Laios coaxes Kabru off, winded as he requests, “Can you two kiss? Please?”

Kabru gives the king no time to abjure before he’s spearing you with attention, not that you’re more patient; hurriedly cupping his cheeks and legs spreading to welcome him between. Sat up enough to give Laios a proper view, Kabru fondles your ass as you happily cram your lips to his. He wonders if your lip stain wipes off on him as well. He hopes it does.

“So beautiful,” Laios muses stroking his cock, casually flicking his wrist and thumbing the head, as you reach for Kabru’s.

Kabru’s lips sear down your neck, urged to bite. He does not.

“Soft, right?” Laios lays his head against your shoulder, poking obnoxiously into Kabru’s space (not that he minds), “Still sweet with wine.”

You taste better than the fucking wine.

Does Laios?

Your lips curl, drifting away just to whisper against his lips, “Would you like to kiss the king?”

“Can I?”

Before you can reaffirm, Laios snatches Kabru by the chin to kiss him.

Laios is not sweet like wine, he tastes like beer and salt and iron from a raw lip, and yet Kabru cannot drink him down fast enough.

Hands, big and calloused and sweltering, brand Kabru’s hips -- spinning him around to face the door as you unwork the man’s nightshirt. Tossing the flowy cloth aside, you press a final kiss to Kabru’s lips, before laying out beneath him.

Kabru’s eyes hone on the honeydew slick glossing your slit, hands scrambling for perch on your bracketing thighs as Laios’ settle on his ass. Anticipation builds and flows out of his mouth, rich and thick and in the form of a lashing tongue. Broad and cozy, Kabru sweeps up your cunt, thumbs parting you for the purest taste. Audible sighs fan over your pelvis in time with Laios burying his spit-slick fingers into Kabru’s hole.

A groan vibrates through your hips, Kabru’s electric eyes flashing over the quiver in your thighs as you grind onto his nose. Both hands knotting through his hair.

Fingers prod inside you, curling toward your stomach before scissoring apart just to noisily slurp out leaking wetness.

Burly hands rearrange Kabru again, manhandling him until he’s got his back against Laios’ chest with legs thrown out across the bed. Exhilaration surges through Kabru’s whole body, extremities jittering and whines dribbling down his lips. Slowly, he’s lowered onto Laios’ cock with teeny rasps inspiring you to grab him by the shoulders. Again, sweet lips meet his, but he realizes the ploy quickly: torturous pleasure rips through his gut as you push him back to prime for riding.

Laios’ hand finds your chest, tweaking your nipple while snapping his hips up. Pounding into Kabru’s clenching hole in time that you sink down on the poor man.

Over Kabru’s shoulder, you and Laios swap spit with noisy kisses and if he weren’t sweating ecstasy then maybe he’d find the power to be embarrassed over his desperation to join. Regardless of getting his brains ground into mush by your combined, incessant pistoning, Kabru finds himself giddy to be involved further.

You’re purposeful and elegant; excruciating, tantalizing bounces with nails digging into the meat of Kabru’s chest. As if you could easily tear him apart, only dangling in front of him like a carrot-drawn-horse.

Laios is frantic and overwhelming; hips unrelenting and thick muscled arms belting Kabru against him. Skin clapping skin, moist with sweat, and fat rippling from the impacts of Laios’ fucking. Each thrust into Kabru sends him rocketing further inside you; bulging deep, deep in your squelching cunt.

Contrasting in all ways -- your hands pet and scratch while Laios’ anchor and tug, you moan and mewl while Laios groans and growls. When you’re not kissing your husband you impress downy lips upon Kabru’s chest while Laios tears bruises from his neck with full teeth.

Passion swells each suck and stroke and pap, pap, pap until Kabru’s bursting from the inside out. He keens, body tensing.

“Breathe,” Laios huffs into his ear, voice low and crackling, “Breathe, it feels better when you don’t tighten up.”

Kabru heeds, blowing hot air across your bare chest as he cums, and you coo, “Good boy.”

A slush of your combined juices cascades, soaking and matting Kabru’s pubes. Wetting his and Laios’ balls. Three hard rams and Laios is spilling inside Kabru as well. Pants and gulps echoing around the room.

Reclining against the headboard, Laios slowly pulls your exhausted body off Kabru before slipping his cock out of the man. Each of you is fully aware the hygienic option is to wash yourselves, change the sheets, and maybe even comb through messy heads of hair.

None of you do, though.

Laios, grinning bright and alluring as the sun, has an arm nestled around both you and Kabru to keep you flush against his sides. Your head finds a pillow in your husband’s chest, Kabru copying the motion. Swamped exhales pass between yours and Kabru’s blissed out faces, but only measured breaths pull a serene rise and fall from Laios. Drool even leaks from the corner of Kabru’s mouth, he groans in disgust but can’t manage the strength to wipe it away. Neither can you, exhaustion poisoning you from the knees up.

A careful thumb dabs the spittal away, only to grossly end up smearing it across Kabru’s shoulder when Laios replaces his hand on the man’s bare arm.

“How…” Kabru shudders for breath, “Why…” his eyes flutter drowsily, “Not tired…?”

“I didn’t do much,” Laios reasons (whether he genuinely thinks that or is bluffing, nobody can be sure), voice low as he notices you’re beginning to drift asleep, “Wore yourselves out, though.”

“Still…” Kabru huffs defiantly, yawning against the moist valley between Laios’ pecs, “I… more stamina…”

“Ass,” you drowsily pitch in, eyes closed and lashes stark against your cheeks.

“Ass?” Laios looks down at Kabru.

“Ass,” Kabru yawns again, now capable of slurring full sentences together with his breath sufficiently caught, “First time taking it in the ass. Probably took more out of me than I expected…”

“You should’ve said something,” Laios lours, “Even monsters like Orcs that have sex for pleasure stretch their partners more than I did. It helps prevent tearing. I wish I could’ve seen more mating rituals before getting cursed.”

“You could read more…”

Kabru’s too tired to negate your yawn of a suggestion. He doesn’t need to before Laios mutters again, seconds away from passing out altogether,

“I’ve read about them a lot, I just wanted to see it for myself.”

Year 515. Some days later.

Laios suddenly turns in his throne, angling his body towards Kabru, “You think I can make polyamorous marriage legal?”

“Why?” Kabru’s sure he knows exactly where the king’s head is, he just wants to hear the man say it.

Sticking out his thumb, index, and middle finger, Laios scrunches the digits towards his palm twice, “Aren’t we all getting married?”

“You’ll have to ask your real spouse about that first.”

“I did.”

“Huh?!” that makes Kabru’s heart explode, blood and meat blowing through his orifices. Teasing Laios is easy now that he more clearly understands the man’s motives, but you?

You’re intimidating even after he’s been inside you, he doesn’t know how Laios can so casually ask you something like that (he does though, it’s due to Laios’ many loose screws).

“I already asked about us marrying you.”

“And…?”

“They thought it was a good idea!” Laios shakes off, as if Kabru should have just known you would go along with your husband’s insanity, “So, can I legalize it?”

“Probably,” Kabru settles a hand over his chest, hoping to calm his racing heart (or what remains, anyway), “I’ll look into it.”

“Yay! Thank you!”

~~~

kabru miserablism POV my beloved

beast laios and fae reader and treasure kabru imagery makes me so hard

[ladykakata]

Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich are honestly good influences on each other

I swear I'll write proper posts sometime, but it's been swilling around my head with my other thoughts, so I might as well put it down here.

Mickey and Ian are chaotic nonsense idiots, and yet I cannot argue they don't have a good as well as bad influence on each other and that develops as they age (and constantly get pulled back together whenever they break up lmao).

Ian's influence on Mickey

It's a running joke that Mickey in the early series is this filthy goblin just running around being a hoodlum and ... yeah, he is lmao. But it's very notable as the series progresses that he starts becoming cleaner and dressing nicer the more time he spends with Ian. The man specifically wore a shirt to see Ian in the mental ward ffs. Not only that he actually *tries* working a normal job and socialising, something he is deeply uncomfortable with, but does it for Ian's sake. It doesn't escape my notice that he specifically wants to work with Ian whenever he can, probably tying in to my earlier point that he is only completely comfortable around Ian.

If you told S1 Mickey he would be helping his paraplegic father into the house and getting home nursing for him, he would wonder what kind of sick joke you were playing. But he does, something that even surprises Ian at first. Ian inspires Mickey to talk more about his feelings, he openly admits to thinking about missing Ian, whereas before he threatened to cut Ian's tongue out for saying that Ian missed Mickey. The idea of Mickey changing ANYTHING for anyone else is foreign ... but not if Ian suggests it to him the right way.

Ian's non-judgemental or at least lightly judgemental treatment of Mickey allows the man to be far more comfortable with himself. Though still highly defensive, I think it's telling Mickey is completely unashamed to be a bottom in front of Ian, and Mickey can make socially awkward gestures or gaffs and Ian doesn't upbraid him or make him feel like shit for doing the 'wrong' thing. Hell, as much as Ian was utterly, UTTERLY confused at Mickey's groomzilla episode, he mostly kept his confusion silent and simply reined Mickey in when he was losing his temper with vendors. The flower shop scene has Mickey blithely retorting that while Ian was gay, he 'just likes having another man's dick in my ass'. Ian in the same scene was tensing his jaw at the homophobia from the florist, and normally Mickey is quick to snap at anyone who considers him gay ("You calliin' me gay?" before slamming a bar owner's head into the counter), he simply bats it away as he's more focused on the flowers he wants and only becomes aggressive when the services are threatened to be withdrawn. Ian was always sure and comfortable with his sexuality and had little to no tolerance of homophobia, whereas Mickey was in either strict denial or profoundly uncomfortable and highly secretive.

Mickey's influence on Ian

The most obvious one is that Mickey was Ian's guardian during his bipolar struggles once Mickey finally realised what a problem it as, and he was determined to nurse Ian until he recognised (to his horror) he couldn't deal with this on his own and Ian really did need professional nursing and help.

What strikes me in a lot of scenes, both before and after that arc, is that Ian almost has Mickey as a constant in his life. It's a topic more for aspects of Ian's personality, but Mickey was the person Ian turned to when he had no-one else in S1, when he was in the 72 hour psychiatric hold he explicitly says 'Mickey is waiting for me'. Ian's life is constant chaos, much like Mickeys, and Ian is the sort of person who needs and thrives on structure when his brain isn't acting out. Mickey was a constant, someone to always come back to and someone he could rely on. In a way, I also see Mickey as someone who can be the impulsive one of the pair, letting Ian take the role of the mediator. It's easier for you to resist your own stupid impulses if your override kicks in because someone else is doing something foolish.

As much as I joke that Ian is the only person Mickey listens to, the same happens the other way around in the bipolar arc. During Ian's Military Police hallucination, it was Mickey who broke through the delusion after the shock of almost attacking Debbie brought Ian abruptly back to reality. Even as Mickey at first acts with his typical aggression ("There's nothin' out there! Fuckin' look!") and literally dragging him to the front door to prove the other side is the same, he gently reassures Ian that everything is alright and herds him upstairs to get dressed. Mickey made sure to get explicit instructions on Ian's medication and even measured it out for him ("Shut up and take your pills, bitch" is still one of my favourite lines).

I had more thoughts but my brain is soup and I still want to do a post on Ian's mental health and how he interacts with the world.

Send a prompt or aspect of these two if you want to hear me talk absolute garbage about these lovesick idiots

[kewrnage]

hoodlum next door spoils me rotten.

synopsis. headcanon with jason who has a neighbor with quite the messy place.

꒰ pairing ꒱ — jason todd x gender neutral! reader.

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff. reader is lazy but improves overtime. this version of jason is the closest to batman : wayne family adventures.

── Jason has learned that his neighbor is leaving and that the vacant flat next to him will be inhabited by someone else. Jason was unable to enjoy himself and have fun because of the prior neighbor's haughty attitude. As a result, the neighbor decided to silently leave the neighboring unit without saying anything.

── Jason, who was used to the freedom of living in Wayne Manor, pondered about how his life could change by interacting with his new neighbor. This new acquaintance could potentially provide an exciting break from the monotony.

── As he made his way to the entrance of his apartment, he glanced at the neighboring unit, curious about the identity of his new neighbor. To his delight, he spotted you transporting crates into the adjoining apartment. A smile crept onto his face as he found you incredibly adorable, yet also displaying a sense of seriousness in your vacant expression, which perfectly contrasted his mischievous nature.

── Jason attempted to gain entry by knocking, but you did not respond. Consequently, he resorted to turning the doorknob, granting him access to your apartment. He expressed surprise by raising an eyebrow, as he observed the untidy state of your flat, particularly the disorderly arrangement of your textbooks. Meanwhile, you were comfortably seated on the couch, engrossed in a class presentation on your laptop. Surprisingly, the only well-organized item in the room was the trashcan.

── Jason Todd, the neighbor who resided nearby, possessed a devious allure that you were unbothered by, even when he started making your already disorganized shelf even more chaotic.

── Despite this, you showed no concern as he continued to mess up your belongings; some of your picture frames were even hanging on the wall at odd angles. He particularly took notice of the disorder in your room, where the bedsheets and blankets were nothing but crumpled messes. The chaos that you lived in frustrated him, and he couldn't resist criticizing you for it.

── You brushed it off at first because you were used to it, especially since no one tried to motivate you anyhow. As a result, he resolved to do the opposite. The next day, he returned to your flat, and he spent his day off from crime-fighting by first assisting you in organizing your living area.

── One of his tactics involves advising you on what actions to take. Occasionally, he can be severe in order to elicit a negative reaction from you, hoping it will prompt self-reflection and growth. Alternatively, he may simply want to observe your displeasure. He assists with various household chores, such as washing dishes and cleaning smudged windows.

── When it comes to cooking, he initially taught you and the dish you prepared was close to being burnt, which disappointed him as evidenced by his sigh.

── He assisted you in enhancing your organizing skills over the course of several months, and you gradually became adept at it, except for cooking. Whenever he would go out to fight crime, you would resort to purchasing instant noodles or any ready-made meal for dinner, which you would then bring home as takeout because he wasn't present to cook for you.

── As you slowly improve, he becomes increasingly proud of you every day. He has observed your efforts to the fullest and it brings him joy. Every now and then, he spoils you with his somewhat above-average cooking, and you express your appreciation by becoming affectionate towards him. Whenever he prepares a meal for you, you embrace him from behind, which never fails to make his heart beat faster and cause a smirk that you cannot see.

── Both of you desired the best outcome for one another. Despite occasional procrastination, you possess a level of understanding and wisdom that catches him by surprise. Therefore, when he faces a moral dilemma, he seeks your guidance without hesitation.

── Over time, the bond between you two grew into something deeper. You hug him from behind while he prepares meals for the two of you, and he takes solace in your presence by opening your window after his crime-fighting tasks at night, cherishing the warmth of your embrace and caressing your faces with gentle kisses. As he becomes accustomed to this connection, your desire for each other only intensifies.

── He'd be willing and glad to explore this newfound feelings with you. He continues to spoil you with his somewhat above-average cooking and his mischievous antics you're trying to discern. However, you'll be there for each other in every step of the way.

── Bonus ; Jason would often bring Artemis and Bizarro to your flat, his Outlaws team to your flat because your brother, who is married to an East Asian household, generously offers you a large amount of food almost every month. Your brother's deliveries usually include ramen, sweets, and chocolates in cute wrapping, as well as wonderfully wrapped crisps.

[eirenical]

MLCB fandom, I have to share a little translation tidbit with you, because it's been making me laugh since I saw it and I think you all may find it amusing too.

Many members of our fandom write bilingual posts (generally English and Mandarin), so I've developed the habit of tossing things into Pleco as I go to get a general gist of what I'm missing, because my Mandarin is nowhere close to good enough to read without help.

@difeisheng posted something the other day that included some Mandarin, so I tossed it into Pleco. And in amongst what they'd written were the hanzi for "A-Fei", which I have apparently never tossed into Pleco before.

MY FRIENDS.

HERE IS WHAT PLECO DID WITH THAT. XD

阿飞 (ā fēi) hoodlum; hooligan; young rowdy

...you CANNOT tell me that Li Lianhua (or Li Xiangyi, depending on when this nickname was first bestowed) didn't pick that particular nickname knowing EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANT.

And following that, DI FEISHENG ALLOWED HIM TO USE IT.

Li Lianhua (and now Fang Duobing) are running around the jianghu calling the head of Jinyuanmeng a hooligan and he's just like "today has already been so weird, so this might as well happen" and GOES WITH IT.

...I still don't know what to think about this but it's amusing the hell out of me.

(If anyone with better Mandarin than I have wants to jump in and add anything, please feel free, but I think this is a permanent part of my mental image of these two now. XD)

[ser3nityst4r]

Riddle’s Backstory

Riddle’s eighth birthday was as meticulously planned as every other day of her life. His mother, a renowned potioneer and a woman of unwavering discipline, ensured that every aspect of Riddle’s life, from his diet to his education, was optimized for success. The birthday cake, a low-sugar concoction made with nuts and lecithin-rich soy flour, was presented with the same clinical precision that marked every aspect of Riddle’s life. However, Riddle, despite his meticulously structured world, harbored a yearning for something more, something forbidden – a strawberry tart. “Just once, Mom,” he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, “I’d like to try one of those tarts covered with bright-red strawberries.”  His mother’s reaction was swift and unyielding. “Absolutely not! Those tarts are monstrously unhealthy. I might as well feed you poison!” she declared, her voice laced with disapproval. “Even just a single slice would exceed your recommended daily intake of sugar.” Riddle’s heart sank. He knew better than to argue with his mother. He had learned early on that defiance was met with unwavering discipline and an extension of his already rigorous schedule. So he nodded, accepting his fate, and returned to his studies.  But the image of the tarts, their shining red jewels of strawberries, clung to his mind. A longing filled him, a yearning for something that felt both forbidden and exhilarating. One afternoon, during her “independent study” time, a knock on the window startled her. Two children, their faces alight with mischief, waved excitedly.  “Hey, come play with us!” the boy, Che’nya, called out. “Let’s all play croquet! Oh, but it’s LOTS of fun!”

Riddle hesitated. He had never been allowed to play with other children. His mother believed that socializing was a distraction from his studies. But these two seemed different, their energy contagious, their smiles genuine.  “I can’t,” he responded, his voice barely a murmur. “I’m supposed to be doing independent study, and I have a lot of homework to do.” “‘Independent study’ means you pick what to do, right?” the boy, Trey, piped up. “My grandpa says play is a form of study!”  And so, Riddle, drawn by an inexplicable force, found himself stepping out of his carefully constructed world, joining Trey and Che’nya in a game of croquet. It was exhilarating, messy, and utterly chaotic. They laughed, they ran, they fell, and they learned. They shared secrets, told stories, and discovered a world beyond the rigid rules that governed Riddle’s life. In the weeks that followed, Riddle, fueled by the joy of playing with his new friends, began to sneak out of her room during his “independent study” time. They played hide-and-seek in the orchard, raced through the fields, and even dared to venture into the forbidden woods behind their homes. It was a world of freedom and laughter. One afternoon, Trey, his eyes sparkling, took Riddle’s hand. “You’ve never even tried a strawberry tart? They’re out of this world!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

Riddle’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. My mom says sugar is basically poison.” “I mean, you probably shouldn't eat too much of it, but calling it ‘poison’?” Trey scoffed. “You know, my family runs a cake shop. Let’s go get a tart right now!” Riddle hesitated. Her mother’s warnings echoed in her mind. But the temptation was too great. In a moment of reckless abandon, she agreed. The strawberry tart, a crimson jewel of sweetness on a pristine white plate, was a revelation. It tasted like joy, like freedom, like a world beyond the carefully controlled world she inhabited. But the joy was short-lived. His mother caught her red-handed, the half-eaten tart a stark testament to her transgression.  “I cannot believe this!” her mother thundered, her voice laced with fury. “Not only are you cutting independent study time, but I find you eating a mountain of sugar?! Those two hoodlums must have incited this behavior. You must never play with them again!” Riddle, his heart aching, was consumed by guilt and fear. He promised, with trembling lips, to never break the rules again. But the pain, a deep, hollow ache, lingered.  He looked at her mother, his face a mask of rigid perfection. “Mom,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “Why does my heart hurt so much?”

His mother’s gaze remained fixed, cold and impenetrable. Riddle, his voice trembling with unspoken anguish, continued, “I want to eat a tart! It’s my birthday, so can’t I have some just this once? I want to play outside all day long! I want to make lots and lots of friends! Tell me, Mom, please...what rule do I need to follow to make this pain go away?” But his mother remained silent, her face a mask of unyielding control. Riddle’s heart, heavy with a longing he couldn’t articulate, remained shrouded in a silent pain, a whisper of a rebellion that dared to dream of a world beyond the confines of her mother’s rules.

[prettyyyathieee]

✧˖°.Reo Mikage is your reckless love✧˖°.

Warnings ⚠️: Cheating! Toxic love! Angst! Very Detailed...Snu but without the actual snu. Some curse words as well.

Female reader x Reo Mikage

A/n : Call me stupid but there's something about toxic loves I literally cannot get over.

I literally hurt myself writing this, so I hope it hurts you guys more. KJZXNCVSDHFA I'm kidding. But yeah, I'm kinda proud of this one.

What they didn’t tell you about rich people is they all have their own “rich people” bubble. It’s that special connection or network wherein just by being part of it you could access penthouses for free, get jobs at well-known companies for free, or just simply be gifted free expensive things whenever you show your face.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…magical

You and Reo Mikage were part of the same bubble. Forced into it. After all, having a hundred acre “house” with a couple more “houses' ' on it and several generations of inheritance that will eventually fall on your lap without you breaking a sweat or proving something means connection with only the wealthiest, at least nearly wealthy in your status.

You were always stuck in your own little lavish bubble, protected by your overbearing daddy. It wasn’t that you were taking your privilege as something that you rightfully owned, it was just that you were, in the broadest sense, unaware.

Unlike Reo Mikage, who was the first to show the pretty rich girl how privileged she was. It was hypocritical of him to say you were “privileged” when perhaps his family may even be richer than yours.

Be that as it may, it was Reo Mikage who showed you the real world or shall I say, the fun parts of the lesser side of the city. The arcade where your father would have an aneurysm if he caught you talking to the ‘smoking hoodlums’ as he called them, the fast food restaurants you could run into and cause a scene at 3 am, and of course, the parking lots where you almost had a near-death experience after chasing one of his soccer balls without paying attention to your surroundings. 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…all sorts of new experiences

Family businesses turn into lucrative opportunities. Just like how the gatherings of business launches turn into talks of new investments and piles of master-crafted, hand-me-downs of gold jewelry.

That was your life. Until Mikage Reo turned it upside down and set it aflame by tarnishing yours and his reputation. 

You might be thinking of fancy candle-lit dinners or masquerade ball dates but no. Unlike his polished facade or his way of hiding his weaknesses like an innate businessman, Mikage Reo was not that kind of person when he was with you. He wasn’t one for showing you extravagance because he knew it would not phase you. 

No, with you, Reo Mikage did not feel the need to boast or be competitive at all. He didn’t feel unguarded or upstaged because you were the exact opposite of him. Amazement was readable in your eyes whenever he showed you the ways to have fun without having to involve money– which was all you were really used to. (Although he did a little too much by showing you how to eat and run)

And of course, it was a very interesting experience getting to know your future sister-in-law’s fiance.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…thrilling

Aside from the “dates” you both indulged yourself in, as much as it shames you to say it there was something about doing the “wrong” things that made it so fun. It’s not like it was weighing on your conscience that much either. You know for a fact every other rich person in your family’s country club had a secret lover behind their partner’s back. You’d also bet all of your family's bank account combined that your very own fiance had a secret lover as well.

He hid him or her so well and so carefully that you pitied him because here you were, on the Mikage heir’s lap in an abandoned music room feeding each other expensive cocktail shrimp that you stole from the buffet table.

You always found yourself at inconvenient places at times like this. Whether it be a charity party or a business party, whenever you and reo were in the same building, not even responsibility could hold either of you from hiding yourselves in each other’s arms.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…romantic in a sense

I say in a sense because what exactly is romantic in secretly hooking up with your future sister-in-law’s fiance? Both of your family’s had bad blood because of some petty rivalry that occured even before your parent’s time. So as children, you both weren’t allowed to even go near each other. They only found truce in your fiance’s family, and that did not end well. Not that they need to know

But yes, your fiance’s sister is a great woman. She was smart, pretty and had a good family name. That was all she was to Reo however, a name. Just another name in the endless spiral of rich people to build connections with.

With you however, Reo really did feel something. Unlike his fiance you were responsive, actually appreciative of his efforts. Although his efforts to his fiance were simply bouquets of expensive roses and champagne while his efforts to you were time and unreplicable memories. Unlike his fiance you weren’t cold. The attention he craved, the compliments he was starved of and the rawness of being in love, nothing could rival it for him, not even soccer. And of course, unlike his fiance, you were a girl he could corrupt. And oh how he loved that.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…what stripped you from your innocence

‘Reo, Reo, Reo’ It was all him in your mind. 

The way he ‘innocently’ caressed your exposed legs under the table and under your dress. The way his eyes would slowly dart from your eyes to your lips, to your neck to your shoulders, traveling lower and lower. 

It was Reo you held at night, not your fiance. It was Reo you share kisses with all of your passion combined, not your fiance. It was Reo that taught you what desire truly is. Reo showed you things nobody could and would never dare to. 

Truly, Reo loved the innocence slowly being poured out of your eyes for him to drink. And he enjoyed every drop of it. There was just something in the way you felt around him. So right, so wrong and so real.

He was sure nothing could ever satisfy him ever again.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…exhausting

It was exhausting having to hide your relationship from everyone, and that includes every person you trust because your relationship with Reo would surely be the downfall of both your families. It was hard but only because Reo was passionate about you.

Reo loved touching you, he couldn’t resist it. His excuse would always be “you’re just too irresistible” saying it with a pout you could do no more to refuse his advances. It was nerve-wracking at first. However, after enough time it became weird going a day without spending at least an hour with skin-to-skin contact. And so came the days where Reo wanted to occupy all of your time and vice versa. 

Let’s get this straight though, being with him wasn’t exhausting, avoiding him was. 

Trying to act like you both didn’t know each other even when you stare at each other from across the room was exhausting. Hiding behind thick clothing with a mask around your face was exhausting. Trying not to show each other off to the world was exhausting. Having to be careful of all your actions was exhausting. But most of all…

Having another woman claim him was exhausting.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…degrading

They knew. You didn’t know how but they all knew. You could see it from their eyes. Even with Reo convincing you they didn’t have a clue, you knew they knew. Your parents knew, evidenced by their disappointed stare. His teammates knew, given by their curious stares. Heck- even the maids knew as evidenced by their snickering whenever they thought you weren’t there, behind their back. 

Maybe you were overthinking, it wasn’t you they were staring at, it wasn’t you they were laughing at. You tried to convince yourself, just like Reo did. But alas, as he was blind and you were not. At least, not after someone made you realize.

Her long slender hand grasped upon your shoulder, the engagement ring on placed upon her fourth finger glared at you. Her languid eyes looking directly into your shaken ones. There you saw it, evidence. 

Apathy has never felt so horrifying. 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…confusing

No amount of begging could get your parents to absolve your future marriage, even after your temper tantrums and threats to hurt yourself. They simply locked you away in your room and had your maids care for you, all while making sure you did not have any means to contact Reo.

Although, when time finally came to let you out of house arrest the news you were greeted with made you question your whole relationship.

Because while you were suffering, rotting away in your room, Reo left for some soccer program. 

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…wrong

You knew that from the very first day you understood his advances. Yet as Eve had realized, nothing was sweeter than eating the fruit of the devil. And your devil came in the form of Reo Mikage.

It wasn’t all his fault. Sure, he made you think nothing of your whole relationship was wrong because it was born out of love. Sure, he made you endure all sorts of degrading stares and disgusted sneers all while he built his career in soccer. 

But you knew he really did love you. Because no one else ever knew what you knew.

Nobody, but you, would ever know about the semi-huge part of the reason he joined blue lock was because he wanted to end your suffering. To cut off the evil vines he was slowly suffocating you with.

And nobody but you knew about the letters he wrote to you everyday while in blue lock, delivered by a boy named “Nagi Seishiro”.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Dating Reo Mikage was…the one experience you will never regret.

You don’t think you’d ever get over him. Not when your news feed was full of his existence for the first few years. He had a knack for soccer, something you wish also didn’t apply to you.

They say grief is the badge of honor for past loves, a sign you’ve loved well but lost. What do we make of longing then? A sign you’ve loved wrongly? It sure felt like that.

Your heart still aches more than a few years later. You would readily admit that you still want Reo but you would never do that to yourself once more.

You’d never heal from him, true enough, however, it was the same for him. Which made it bearable for you, as awful as that sounds.

Reo could never ever rid himself of loving you, not even after the thousands of beautiful girls the world could offer him. Nobody could ever compare to you, nobody could ever be as fit for him as you.

“I see, I see. This next question is for Mr. Reo Mikage” The reporter asked, which caused Reo to stop pestering Nagi and to turn to the audience with a wide smile on his face.

It was a female reporter, a pretty one at that. He gave her a flirtatious wink as she blushed and hid her face behind her bulky mic which prompted a bunch of hoots and teasings from his teammates.

The reporter cleared her throat before she spoke to the mic. “Ehem, thank you for the opportunity-”

“The honor’s all mine, pretty girl” Reo smirked before biting his lip and scrunching his face from the laughs that erupted and the hands hitting his back.

The reporter squealed for a bit before gathering herself together by taking a few deep breaths.

“Um…so…uh” She stuttered. Nodding graciously at Reo’s beckoning face.

“This pertains to your…uh let’s say ritual? Fans have noticed that before each and every game you kiss the bracelet on your wrist…does it have a reason or perhaps a story?” She asked Reo so sweetly that some of the blue lock guys blushed. But those who were close to Reo winced. 

Everybody could feel the room turn a little colder as the mentioned player’s smile dropped. The silence only lasted a couple of seconds before Reo, ever the professional business heir, fixed his face instantly making others wonder if what they saw was real.

“It’s personal. Next question.” He spoke to the mic before giving it to the teammate next to him. He was out for the whole interview after that. Not focused nor attentive. Everybody could see that the question may have put him in a tight spot.

Before it was even over, Reo stood up, much to the worry of many, then stormed out without so much as a ‘goodbye’. There in the hallways, Reo buried his hands across his folded arms. He honestly thought everything was in place now, you out of his, out of shame and misery.

Yet as soon as somebody mentions that godforsaken bracelet, he can’t think straight.

“Y/n…What the hell am I supposed to do?” He asked the air, though if you asked him, he’d say he was asking what’s left of you, the ghost of you. He caressed his bracelet with his thumb before pressing a kiss to it. After all, it’s one of the things you left him before he ghosted you.

[majorpepperidge]

@x-rpinky-x

TEEHEE THANK U they're both disasters. Love me a good '2 idiots pining for each other' trope.

Fenix (going by Hoodlum at the time) helped Phantom shortly after the events of Kingdom Battle repair his theater at Spooky Trails and put on a musical to try and 'woo' Princess Peach. Yet in their collaboration they grew a respect for one another, into friendship, into romantic yearning.

Fenix's love of stories and genuine acting talent surprised Phantom, who had initially waived her off as 'useful, but an uncouth vagrant besides'. Phantom's charisma and clear passion for the arts delighted Fenix, who only had the recounts of Beep-0 to go off of on how Phantom was. Closer to the events of Sparks of Hope, Fenix has a bit of a, uh, breakdown. Not interacting with others for 10 years aside from encounters with Rabbids when she used to hunt them, then suddenly being surrounded by her former quarry that have ultimately forgiven her (something she yet herself cannot do), leads to her suddenly up and leaving the Mushroom Kingdom to travel the galaxy and sort herself out (and establish Wardens along the way! Warden of Wardens, that Fenix).

But Phantom, having only be left a hasty note from someone he found kinship with, was a bit. Miffed. He left the Kingdom himself, leading to the several messy relationships and ego trips we hear of through the game leading up to DLC 3. He'd never admit it, but he subconciously was following Fenix, picking up on her trail here and there pretending he didn't care but oh he did. Being referred to as the Warden of the Space Opera Network was fine by him; he'd show Fenix just how great he had been after she left.

OFC they reunite post-DLC 3 with Fenix joining Rayman at the Network to help keep things in check, and she finds Phantom in his fckin...Basement Lair being a big sulking baby and ultimately apologizes to him for leaving as she did (though she did hear of his escapades and boy howdy she'll chew him out for that later) and all Phantom can do is quietly say he's just happy to have her back. EVERYONE CAN SEE THEY LIKE-LIKE EACH OTHER BUT THEY CAN'T SEE IT THEMSELVES, THE FOOLS

[web-novel-polls]

Have You Read This Web Novel?

Hyperthymesia. Those with this condition can remember every detail of their lives from something as significant as the world’s turning point to something as small and as insignificant as a minor fleeting thought. They cannot forget and their thirst for knowledge allows them to be considered genius in some senses. Legend has it that Ji Yushi was this kind of genius. In addition, it was said that he was gay and very beautiful. As soon as the news that he was going to support Tianqiong’s seventh squad broke out, it sent everyone buzzing. Everyone knew that the captain of the seventh squad, Song Qinglan, was a hoodlum and deeply homophobic. He not only relied on his super-powerful abilities to become the dark horse on the battlefield in less than two years, but he also hates it when those at the top forced a flower vase* into his squad. Sure enough, Song Qinglan announced in front of everyone, “Useful? Us brothers are going out there working ourselves to the bone, we don’t need a little genius who can only speedread quantum waves!” Later. The squad was forced into a dire situation during their mission. That beautiful little genius calmly continued, every gunfire hitting the mark, his fighting power peaking. Song Qinglan begged in front of everyone, “Adviser Ji, stay.” In the end, he added, “I’ll work myself to the bone for you.” ***** Ji Yushi had a secret. He would often be awake at night, suffering from memory overload and recurring nightmares. There was only one thing that could let him fall asleep peacefully. And that was Song Qinglan. *Flower vase: Someone who only looks pretty but can’t amount to much - Novel Updates

Additional Information: Carrd (CW: glitch effect), image/slides recommendation by imjustheretomooch, recommendation by aroacehanzawa (based on ORV), recomendación de bubbletecito (ES)

If you’re in the process of reading this web novel, please choose whichever option best fits your situation. You do not have to be completely finished with it to answer “yes.” 

See similar polls and results here!

[chromatic-lamina]

one piece 1091 spoilers (including things you won't see in viz)

Hey! Well everyone's going OPLA crazy, so 1091 might just fly under the radar, which is a shame, cos' it's a good chapter! I usually only do these commentaries on the chapters with Law, Kid, characters I really like (and I like the Straw Hats, but you know where my heart lies!), or small things that catch my attention like:

Is that Chuji (from Wano) helping Sanji out with the cooking for the crew? AND did

Doflamingo and one of his clones pop in to spice up the party? AND where

are Robin and Franky? Love seeing Jinbei helping out with the cooking, and Brook and Chopper politely enjoying themselves. Chapter's title is Sentomaru!

So the Pacifista and the weaponised sea beasts are taking on the navy (and the Vegapunks don't know that their defenses have been breached yet. The sea beasts are cute in a Big Mom way:

But never fear because

Doll is here! And another of the new vice admirals who was to the right of those two frames above. Beating up sea beasts, I think, and making their way to the Pacifistas (Doll already arrived!).

It seems that

if Kizaru hadn't breached the defences that the navy wouldn't stand too good a chance against the Robo beasts, OR, if Kizaru was with them, maybe they would. Also, love Usopp with his sniper specs (or whatever they are).

Also, it seems that Vegapunk is pretty blind to

the weakness in the control hierarchy. As shown earlier with the whole seraphim debacle, it's too easy for one person in the chain to wrest control. Then again, there is or was an assumption that everyone is trusted. Going out of order, but Jay Garcia Saturn Kizaru saying (thanks @darkspock)

that it would be good to keep Vegapunk alive (he is alluding to Vegapunk here, as Kizaru confirms he's set to kill him in the next panel) in the same way Jay Garcia Saturn says that

it was a shame to lose the weaponised beasts, and that losing them, and ultimately Vegapunk, because they are the less valuable or even dangerous assets, show how far removed he is from humanity. BUT, he does want to keep one Vegapunk! (Edit in: And I wonder now if Kizaru is talking about Sentomaru)

York! Love me a good villain. Ahhh. And also the power station, and Punk Records cannot become collateral damage. Elimination fo the rest of Vegapunk is the top priority. I still think the Victoria Punk might have a link to all of this too! (just from the name).

Anyway, back to the linear storyline. Before Sentomaru

bites the dust, Usopp, Nami and Brook sight Kizaru, and Brook mentions Sabaody. It's not forgotten, throughout the piece.

AND, I just had a thought, they weren't taken out by Kizaru this round, far from it, but Kid and Law (and all the other supernova, other than Bonney, Luffy and Zoro) were taken out by other forces before they got the chance to flee from (or fight) Kizaru again. It's a good way of showing the high stakes and who is left in the game. (Usopp still has his specs).

So Vegapunk is not aware of Kizaru's determination to let Sentomaru fight from his own morals, and Sentomaru's resolve to protect Vegapunk at all costs. The very small background story (we had some before) is sweet, as always, especially the relationship between "Uncle" Kizaru and Santomaru.

And speaking of cute and hoodlum and maybe awkward, but so at home in one's skin to not even be aware of it:

Young

Kizaru. SO Kizaru wipes out Santomaru and it affects

Stella Vegapunk (Atlas too?). But York is unaffected, and won't give up the code! (And Usopp has lost his glasses).

What if the "Old Friends" that Jay Garcia Saturn Kizaru refers to were

this treacherous bastard, and his now bubble-wrapped

colleague, Kaku!

Smart move on Sanji's part, but let's reel it back a little:

Rob Lucci takes Stussy out (and Oda did say in the most recent SBS that he finally learnt how to draw bums, so he's taking every opportunity to draw bums. Butt only female bums, apparently!) And declares:

that he and Kizaru are besties and everyone's days are numbered, BUT, what if Jay Garcia Saturn Kizaru was talking about Rob Lucci (and Kaku) when he said it was a shame to lose old friends. Lucci is one of those kinds of villains who should be on the most-hated list (like Spandam and Walpole). He's good looking for sure, and CP9/0 have sad stories, but dammit!

Also, Big News Morgans is not gonna be happy about Stussy. But Sanji's move against Kaku above was so swift and cool. And it's Nami declaring Stussy Chan, isn't it? I don't think it's Sanji, due to the positioning of the text bubble, but I could be wrong.

This guy (Zoro)

is on the offensive (looks great!). And so is

this guy! Also love that Luffy uses 'we' to describe the whole crew (the whole generation?) being stronger.

And Santomaru's Japanese attack names and their meanings, apparently won't appear in Viz:

T/N: "TIN: "SUMO STRIKE" IN VIZ.

ASHIGARA IS THE MOUNTAIN ASSOCIATED WITH THE LEGENDARY KINTARO WHO INSPIRED SENTOMARU'S DESIGIN.

I'm sure I've missed a ton, but there you go! Oh, where's Robin? (and Chopper). Were they going to the Sunny? Also, these two scenes were superrr cute! Bonney and Luffy should definitely be besties.

[dayseternal-blog]

Hi ! I see you giving lots of NaruHina recs, I am looking for any NaruHina fanfictions with them being in rival yakuza/gangs or just the fanfic placed in a yakuza/gang universe

Thanks ! ❤️

Hello! I've done this recommendation list before, but I think there may be new ones to add to it...

NaruHina Yakuza / Gangs AU

new ones:

"Savage" from "NaruHina Erotica Oneshots" by @makuro767 - Rated E, Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. Taking a deep breath, she focused on her current plan; escaping the Hyuuga Clan.

"Prey" by @sessakag - Rated E, Modern Crime AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. The moon aligns, a sacrifice is offered and he knows, she is his destiny. Following that midnight chance encounter with Hinata Hyuuga, a smitten sociopath, Naruto Uzumaki, tries his hand at romance, determined to make her fall in love with him the only way he knows how.

Here's the old list:

“When the Devil Picks Up a Stray” by callmesenorita - Rated E, A/B/O Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata, an Omega, questions buried feelings when she decides to help a childhood friend who has adopted a new persona under the name Menma. Although their attraction is instant he is no longer the Naruto she once knew, and soon enough Hinata is thrust into a dangerous yakuza conspiracy. DELETED FIC

“Bound” by suryass - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Series of One-shots/Incomplete. Mafia AU-Collection of oneshots.

“July - Movie-Inspired” from “Still Falling For You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto and Hinata peacefully live with each other. Well, almost peacefully…

“Powerless” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E for a lot of things like depictions of violence and character death, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. - His family’s past can’t be taken at face-value, and it comes clawing back to hurt him in ways that are out of his control.  DELETED FIC.

“Opposites Attract” by KyuubiLover100 - Rated E, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Citizens of Konoha all know that “The Light cannot exist without casting its Shadow.” It’s the unspoken system that the city runs on. Everyone knows their place and their roles. Those in the Shadows do what those in the Light cannot. Uzumaki Naruto knows this and has known this since he was young. Hyuuga Hinata knows this as well and understands her Father’s wished, but still…

“put on your warpaint” by @borzbois - Rated M, Tattoo Artist/College AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata meets a stranger with beautiful tattoos. She never could have guessed the turn her life would take when she asked to draw him.

“All Kinds of Wrong” by Kieren - Rated E, Infidelity/Modern AU, One-shot. It was ironic how something so pure had sprung from such a sordid arrangement. They were perfect for each other. But they had met at the wrong time.

“Pink Chiffon” by @scalding-coffee-cup - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. During the day, she wears pink chiffon and nude pumps; her glossed lips curve into an innocent smile. At night, she struts down the alleyway in black stilettos and wears a scowl on her red lips. The pistol is her most expensive accessory.

“Molasses” by EroPrincess - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Adult film star, Hinata Hyuga, encounters a fledgling underground kingpin, Naruto Uzumaki. Is it possible for a romance to blossom between two people from very different worlds?

“Second Chances” by enzhe - Rated T, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Namikaze Naruto was abducted, then declared dead. Twelve years after he disappeared, his parents find him: now a scrappy, reckless teenager, with good friends, a lot of trauma, and ties to the murderous, anarchist Nine-Tails gang. As the family tries to put itself together, trust breaks, hurts heal, and the power struggles that led to Naruto’s abduction resurface.

“Dirtbags// The Fox” by OwlwaysHungry - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and his friends end up having to work for a notorious drug dealing gangster by the name of Kyuubi after a not so satisfying night out.

“a home is a dream” by bluebeardsbrides - Rated M, Modern AU, One-shot. Naruto Uzumaki returns home with all the force maelstrom, three days after her husband’s disappearance and six years since she went and stumbled on Neji’s body floating in the creek downtown.

“Gangster AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites​ - Rated M, Modern AU, One-shot. This world is an endless cycle of destruction, no matter how hard you try to stop it and sometimes the innocent get involved in the crossfire.

“What He Wants” by agitosgirl - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata Hyuuga is an average girl struggling, and failing to stay on top of things. But everything in her life changes once she meets a handsome stranger at club. She knows that he wants her, but doesn’t realize that he has the power, and the determination to do whatever it takes to make her his, no matter the cost.

Untitled collab w/ @matchaball for anon by @utsus​ - Rated T, Modern AU, One-shot. Prompt: She’s his ace in the cards that no one sees coming (that they honestly should’ve seen) and yes: she dislikes violence.

If anyone knows of others, please feel free to add!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love this kind of AU.

[sarroora]

Greetings I've come to pester you yet again apologies (I probably will continue to do so until I get home fair warning) but anyways specifically HC's involving Dibble because nobody talks about Dibble enough and that's criminal

Every day Dib has to resist the urge to pet ALL of them because KITTY!!!!!1!

He has actually been able to pet all of them at least once and has figured out where they all like being pet/scratched (but still has to resist petting them he's gotta stay professional after all)

There are situations where Dib does pet the lads and it's typically if one of them asks to be pet (usually Brain)

Alternatively if one of the lads is feeling bad Dib can sense if they're okay with him petting them and thus he will pet them to make them feel better

Brain is the only one Dibble lets onto his kitchen counters because Brain usually behaves himself in Dib's apartment compared to the rest, also because Brain is patient enough to realize that Dib will give him treats eventually if he behaves well enough

Dibble cannot cook for SHIT lemme tell ya this man manages to burn microwave ramen, make cold soup and hot salad, and even when he DOES occasionally not fail at cooking the gang just ends up stealing and eating whatever he made (if it's even edible) [just realized there's a point in the show where he says he's gotta stop eating his own cooking I think that was in Golden Fleecing]

Because of this he usually just orders Chinese takeout and everyone at the restaurant he always orders from recognizes his voice and his order and always give him extra wontons because they like him so much

He seems like he'd be a Slipknot fan and that thought amuses me and would probably really confuse Spook

He likes Jeopardy definitely

Anyways yeah enjoy good night good morning whagever etc

I LOVE Dibble and yes, he deserves more love! GIVE ME DIBBLE HCS. ANYTIME.

Absolutely, Dibble has pet ALL of them at some point. The ones who love pets the most are Benny and Brain. T.C. is very reserved when it comes to pets, but practically every normal cat in existence secretly likes them. When he’s in the right headspace, he’ll indulge.

-T.C. pets Dibble tho

LOL Dibble’s cooking totally sucks but he’s gotten used to eating it - Dibble doesn’t believe in throwing away food XD. When the cats stayed with him during the winter they had to manage - Brain and Benny would eat it and not complain much. Fancy wouldn’t touch it. Spook and T.C. made fun of it mercilessly, and Dibble ended up ordering takeout a bunch of times. The cost was running him to the ground, so they had to arrive at an agreement: they had to help him cook and stop acting like entitled guests. The results were..mixed.

During those 4 months, one of the things he learned about T.C is that he was very particular about sleep. Very. It surprised him that Top Cat got genuinely angry one day when he was yelling in frustration and the gang was startled awake. T.C. explained - with an impatient hiss - that cats’ ears don’t stop listening when they’re sleeping - alley cats especially have to sleep while alert. So to be able to - like humans - not have that part of their brain active while they sleep was a very rare treat and Dibble should leave his boys alone and stop ‘stomping around like a rhino’.

Cat hair. Was everywhere. Even inside his goddamn fridge. And Fancy was the biggest culprit.

Dibble loves detective movies and T.C. loves westerns.

Listen Dibble is the only person who‘s allowed to talk crap about T.C and his gang, but if anyone else does it they’re immediately on his Wanted list.

Dibble: “I stg if I ever catch im anywhere near that store he’ll never see the light of day. I TOLD the little hoodlum I’ll run ‘im outta the alley if he tries to pull something on Joe one more time-“

Some other cop: “About time - that alley needs cleaning up. That mangy cat’s a waste of air.”

Dibble: “...the f did you just say, bitch”

[aseriesofunfortunatejan]

Today has been abnormally normal, and just earlier I noted to myself that among the Akudama Drive fans, I probably came across as one among the most normal. This is unusual to me, a weird woman.

As such, I have decided to arrange a list of Akudama Drive characters from most fuckable to least fuckable in my EXTREMELY biased opinion.

And as much as this is for the LOLs, I am going to have to say: minors DNI with this post. If you are a minor, I of course cannot stop you from reading this post, and I doubt it would hurt you. I will however ask that you do not engage in this conversation, which has a sexual tone, with me. I encourage you to speak about this in your own space if you wish to.

Characters under 18 have been given colouring books to pass the time and are encouraged to organise a coup d'état during that time.

Courier. No comment.

Junior. There's a reason I wrote the "EXTREMELY" in "EXTREMELY biased" in all caps. I have Motives. Reasons. I will NOT regret saying this in the future. [...]

i can't erase this

i can't erase this

Brawler. Handsome. Good body. This is the part of the list when I remember I'm asexual. We're on number 3. This is pretty bad.

Master. I tried so hard to move Master to number 3 but the post editor is so broken. I guess it has an opinion that Brawler should stay number 3. Anyway. You can fuck that old man. I think he'd be a good lay. Plus, cool mask and scar, right? I think he'd be a much better lay than Brawler. Like by FAR. I just don't want to break this post again. Again this post is turning out pretty bad innit

Cutthroat. We're already reaching the negative part of the post.

This is the stuff of nightmares. Trust me everything in this list from here is an insult. I would rather die,

6. Hoodlum >I'm so sorry to place Hoodlum AFTER Cutthroat but he would literally be at the top of the list if the animators didn't make him buff for no reason??? Like when it comes to Brawler, being buff is good. You know I love buff characters. But Hoodlum SHOULD NOT LOOK LIKE THAT. He is thus untrustworthy and no one should sleep with him. The trauma. What's going on here.

Like WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU

7. Swindler. >I'm not into women. I'm sure we could make it work. 8. Pupil. >I'm not into women. She has straight vibes. We could not make it work. I'm convinced she's pregnant or recently gave birth in Shikoku Arc. 9. Boss. >Not my personal cup of tea. 10. Sniper? >This entire post is a joke about Doctor being last. 11. Doctor. >No.

And for the same reasons she'd also fuck Junior I don't think Hoodlum was on top that one time.

I expect everyone to agree with this very objective, helpful, life-changing, never-done-before, beautiful, etc. top list.

[neartheeasternfence]

Doumeki Sells Something That Is Not Oil

Impressions; Chapter 54

When Mama first appeared in the full dress (ch.38, vol.7), she seemed to be possibly in her 40s or so (mature or toshima [aged]), but in reality, she must be much younger. Kamiya tells her she is not suited for this business, and she talks to herself the same thing. She may have been told the same thing by someone else, or she might know someone likewise in an unsuitable business.

Yashiro is tangled with Kai’s men and boasts that he was not ‘educated’ to give personal information out to people he did not know well. Both Yashiro and Nanahara are proud of their status as “regularly ‘educated’ yakuza (currently, quasi-constituent members),” and for them, the street gangs are nothing more than hoodlums. Later, Yashiro says it was lucky Doumeki left the scene because they knew his face. Nanahara replies, “Where is that guy ‘selling oil’?” Yashiro looks away and mutters, “He would have gone to sell something that is not oil.” “Selling oil” means “talking unnecessarily and neglecting one’s work,” and picking a fight with another is called “selling a fight.” Yashiro looks perplexed that Doumeki has been taking one part of his problem on his shoulders.

Doumeki became more ‘protective’ of Yashiro after having an affair with no excuse in chapter 52. From another viewpoint, there are underlying ownership and control. Yashiro has always had a strong aversion to them. I think his childhood experience had been the epitome of “being owned and controlled by sex,” and as he had grown up, he had tried to regain (at least) ‘agency’ in sex (if he was unable to refuse it). He has wanted to do it roughly, to be even gang raped and aimed to derive pleasure from it (and indeed he could). But now, Yashiro is going to give himself over to Doumeki’s ‘protection.’ It is true that Doumeki is no longer his subordinate and cannot give him orders. Also, the reunion and the subsequent relationship between the two is moderately business-related and is difficult to handle as private alone. However, there must also be the inner transformation of Yashiro. The indiscriminate pleasure for him has been lost since the night with Doumeki four years ago. While he has regained it by Doumeki, it is not indiscriminate anymore.

Tsunakawa knew Kai. The fact has been immediately brought to Doumeki. So Inami has had little new information to offer Doumeki. That means, in short, Doumeki comes to Inami almost for Yashiro. He destroys and wrests whatever Yashiro’s video in Inami’s hands, and tells him never to meet ano-hito again. It is like a plea.

[daemonwritesstuff]

⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ...[Jaxrel] is typing... <3 ↻ᴹᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ ꒰Enjoy Your Life Matchup, Quasar!꒱ 🦋~* Logging Off… @fourtyfourcatss

A/N: Hello again Quasar! Words cannot describe how happy I am that you request an anime I enjoyed for over a while now, Since the fandom is kinda dead there isn’t a lot for me to crunch on but since you sent this hopefully I can also reach more people! Also if anyone wants to send in anything for akudama drive wether it’s requests, matchups, etc, I don’t care I’ll do whatever it takes to feed the dead fandom. Anyways, enjoy this matchup as much as I enjoyed your other matchups you’ve made for me. It’s always good to partner up with you again.

[ ☪︎ ִ ֶ֢࣪⋆ GENERAL HEADCANONS ]

𓆩♡𓆪 When you guys first met I think you guys instantly clicked, well… maybe not instantly but from what I can tell when I saw Courier he always seems wary of people at first, like he can’t really trust someone fully yet until he sees their true colors which is pretty much accurate of him and also very smart to as he’s an akudama.

𓆩♡𓆪 He appreciates that there’s someone like you, at least your an honest person he knows (besides swindler.) that’s another step he can take around you to know that you aren’t shady like the other akudamas, that you don’t really hide anything to make yourself look suspicious, I feel like you would have to confess to him first because I don’t feel like he’s the type of person to go and confess to you yet, UNLESS he can go first but he’ll be a little hesitant at first but when he confesses to you and you say yes he’ll be a little taken aback at first but also he’s happy but he’s obviously got gonna show it of course.

𓆩♡𓆪 He likes that your blunt, and also smart, it’s definitely what attracted him at first, he’s also glad your at least optimistic, I feel like he lost that hole a while back but with you around he will find that hope again soon, he was a bit annoyed at your pridefulness but later grows into not caring that much, I also read that people think your funny and you are! whenever you joke with him he’s not gonna laugh, no way in hell is he ever gonna laugh but I feel like you made him laugh at some point, mostly like a snort or a grin but he quickly hides it away (out of embarrassment).

[ ☪︎ ִ ֶ֢࣪⋆ HOW’S THE COUPLE DOING NOW ? ]

𓆩♡𓆪 Your honor they are doing very well, ever since they got together they have been very happy together, seriously though, I feel like since he has you he’s been doing more better, I also believe you would live in his small house (or apartment, there wasent a lot of information of what house he has.) but since you dislike unhygienic things I feel like the house would always stay clean because of you, I mean it’s always been clean but still, I can imagine just courier cooking for the both of you while there’s soft music in the backround, just one of those happy and peaceful times between two lovers.

𓆩♡𓆪 You and Courier would go for walks during the night, somewhere where people aren’t around to freak the actual hell out when they spot a Akudama, He would also like watching you draw, he would always hang them up around the house to admire when he gets back home, he even keeps a drawing with him whenever he goes out, you don’t know though so he hopes you won’t catch him, I feel like Courier would also somewhat take naps, but not a lot like you do, but he’ll indulge with you though if you want him to rest and not stay up and smoke.

[ Round-Ups: Hacker, Hoodlum. ]

[ A TERRIFYING WEAPON THAT CAN MAKE SOMEONE FALL WEAK ]

REASONING: I feel like with your personality and also your hobbies and talents it felt like one of the best options, Since your usually psychically active I feel like it would make the best option.

My other options for you would be… A bow, An Axe, or a Spear.

I should also add this but I feel like you would be in a similar situation to swindler but with a little twist, I feel like you were in some situation that didn’t even associate with you but they still made you a Akudama anyways.

— Hacker; You guys met before you became a akudama and also before you were couriers partner, he would only interact with you not with the others, he favored you more than the others, he likes spending time with you a lot! wether it be reading or writing or whatever, he was always grateful to be around you, I feel like you guys would listen to music with each other a lot.

— Hoodlum; When he met you he was a bit nervous at first I guess (?) but later on when you get to know each other more he was able to become quickly comfortable with you knowing he can trust you fully, you guys are always seen with each other or also with Brawler, he finds peace with you so much, he’s always with you so you can also protect him LMAO.

— Swindler; Yet another one! I feel like she immediately knew she can trust you, you were so honest with your information and advice, how could she not believe you? You are very trustful in her eyes, she always goes to you for a lot of advice and you always somehow help her so much?! She’s impressed! She’s always taking walks with you while you guys talk about whatever, she respects you so much I also believe she looks up to you so much, your a role model to her.

Songs I was listening to: I’m a controversy (Ado), Show (Ado), Drunk-Dazed (ENHYPEN), Non-breath oblige (Pinocchio-P), What Is Love? (TWICE), CAKE (Itzy), Anti-Romantic (TXT), Cookie (NewJeans), DJANGO (ATEEZ), Mr. Simple (Super Junior), Blood Sweat Tears (BTS), I Want That (GI-DLE), In My Dreams (Red Velvet), FAILURE GIRL (Kairikibear), Last Night Good Night (Livetune), On the Rocks(OSTER project).

[SPOTIFY]

[youzicha]

C.S. Lewis:

But, first, a necessary digression. A recent remark of Mr. Eliot's poses for us at the outset the fundamental question whether we (mere critics) have any right to talk about Milton at all. Mr. Eliot says bluntly and frankly that the best contemporary practising poets are the only 'jury of judgement' whose verdict on his own views of Paradise Lost he will accept. […] The first result is that I, not being one of the best contemporary poets, cannot judge Mr. Eliot's criticism at all. […] Shall I go to the best contemporary poets, who can, and ask them whether Mr. Eliot is right? But in order to go to them I must first know who they are. […] the real result is that no such man can criticize poetry at all

This is really peak posting! I would submit that this 3-page digression was not, in fact, necessary and some touching of grass might have been beneficial.

Eliot:

What seems to me necessary is to assert at the same time [Milton's] greatness—in that what he could do well he did better than any one else has ever done it—and the serious charges to be made against him, in respect of the deterioration—the peculiar kind of deterioration—to which he subjected the language. […] There is a large class of persons, including some who appear in print as critics, who regard any censure upon a 'great' poet as a branch of the peace, as an act of wanton iconoclasm, or even hoodlumism. The kind of derogatory criticism that I have to make upon Milton is not intended for such persons […] and of what I have to say I consider that the only jury of judgement is that of the ablest poetical practitioners of my own time.

I think the point of the paragraph is precisely that anyone has the right to talk about Milton. But even if we're being literal about it, Eliot doesn't say that you need to be a good poet to identify good poets, and the article explicitly says it's not trying to "appraise the 'greatness' of Milton", so I don't think there is a vicious circle.

[spoocys-glade-of-dreams]

@corazcnes part 3

Disdain: what are their least favorite foods?

Both Rayman's cannot stand anything bitter.

Even having a cup of coffee is difficult for him. They need really sweet blends. They tend to stick to specialty coffee drinks from the local cafes, otherwise he's going to overload his cup of regular coffee with cream and sugar to the point it's not really coffee anymore.

Game Rayman specifically does not like strong alcohol at all. One sip and he'll start coughing and retching. The local hoodlums like to trick him into drinking their fermented plum juice as a prank.

A little bonus: The Adventure/Pirate au Rayman will go with the crew to the local taverns and bars, but never touches the drinks. He sticks to devouring the bowls of peanuts. The supply of peanuts go missing often in the ship kitchens and all fingers point at him for it.

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Overly spicy food. While both Raymona's like their spice, the really powerful spicy dishes are something she cannot tolerate. She can actually hurt herself if she eats something way too spicy.

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Murfy's not very fond of chewy caramel candies. He doesn't like how they get stuck in his teeth. He prefers caramel hard candies, or the caramel toppings used in stuff like ice cream or baked desserts.

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Floyd hates overly cooked meats. Well-done steaks or pork chops that are so tough it's like trying to chew leather.

He also hates really limp bacon strips. He's a crunchy bacon kinda guy.