#maybe some time I'll put some clothes on this beast

[carnivart-core]

Been in a state where I've wanted to change my sona for a while - so new main fursona time !! (My main non-fur-sona is stuck as is for a while) I've become a pink fiend as of late so ,,, pink non-specific-lemur

[bunnys-kisses]

werewolf!simon 🐺 (bc happy 3,000 followers to me <3)

you met because you were lost in the woods while camping. it wasn't your fault that all of the trees looked the same! but it led you into simon who led you back to his cabin so you could call the park ranger! simon even made you some tea before he called the land-line.

park ranger johnny or 'soap' said that the truck was out of service so it would have to wait until tomorrow. "you can be a gentleman, right simon?" he laughed over the phone. simon grumbled in response, this wasn't going to be the best idea.

it was the full moon after all.

simon allowed you your personal space as he went about his cabin. he even allowed you to use his bed for the evening. you told him that you were fine on the couch! the issue was that the bedroom could be locked from the outside, usually for his own protection. but tonight it was for yours.

"um... mister simon." you said, "i'm sorry that i'm intruding so much."

"it's alright." he got up from his spot in front of the fireplace. he walked past you and rubbed your hair as he went by, "the woods aren't a safe place."

"i was told only deer hang around here."

he chuckled, "you should be more afraid of men." he went to the nearby kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. he opened it with ease and took a sip, "man destroys."

"well." you stepped forward in a daring move, "you're a man and you're taking good care of this place." you swallowed, "i don't think the entire species is doomed."

he chuckled and took another sip, "i'm not a man."

you stilled, "so like an alien."

he put the beer down and pulled away from the counter, "more beast than man. every full moon, beasts like me roam the woods. sometimes we get a little hungry."

"so you would've eaten me?" you swallowed, you balled your fists just in case you had to make an escape.

he approached you, but you were frozen still. instead of touching you with force, it was so gentle. his thumb was dragged down your cheek, "no. i don't hurt pretty things. but i would've snapped my fangs at anything that tried to come near your tent. so for your sake, stay in my room. so i can't hurt you."

you found the courage to touch him back. your fingers dragged down the scar on his face, "but what if they come too close to your home?"

he smiled a little, "i'll give you my shotgun."

you swallowed, "well.. mister simon. maybe i need your protection?" it was better that you had a familiar face around the cabin instead of leaving it all up to chance.

he cupped your face, "i could hurt you."

you shrugged a little, "i'd rather you hurt me then some other man."

he brushed his thumb across your cheek, "well. then i guess i have to be on good behaviour then." then leaned in to kiss you on your forehead, "but i'll need to cover you with my scent."

you were soon stripped, you realized that simon has no sense of modesty. eventually you were tossed on the bed like you were a bag of potatoes. and simon pressed his weight onto you.

you pressed under a man who could easily snap your bones. but instead, you were doing weird beast-esque skin to skin contact. he rubbed up against you.

"mister simon." you squeaked.

"it's just simon."

"are you sure i can't just wear some of your clothes." they would fit.

"nah. gotta get it right into the skin." he said gruffly as he continued to snuggle against you. you didn't know what scent he was putting on you. all you smelt was old spice and aftershave.

usually for simon, he would've been pent up by now. the day was slowly waning. but he found himself getting tired. the usually sharp werewolf was turning into a metaphorical mush. it was like he felt safe in your arms.

the comfort of simon's bed plus your time hiking left you feeling drowsy too. it wasn't long before you both fell asleep. you didn't even feel the man turn into a wolf.

you simply turned to your side and get comfy against the thick hair that covered you. it was like sleeping under one of those expensive shag rugs that rich people had.

that paired with the weighed allowed you to sleep soundly as the full moon passed the sky. you were a relaxing force to this werewolf and you didn't even know it.

the next morning, johnny came by to pick you up but instead found you under the enormous weight of one simon riley. he was soundly snoring and the ranger just chuckled to himself.

"i'll come back later so you don't ma head off."

(this could be expanded on later. i'm calling it the 'howlin' for you' au aka the werewolf au)

[sturn3]

i lowkey really got out of hand, girl... i'm sorry, i can re-do it if you'd like!!! (btw im not really sorry, im kinda proud of the smut i wrote) tw: not proofread cause im kinda lazy rn

matt's girlfriend was the sweetest angel anyone had ever met. always putting everyone's needs before her own. never wanting to disappoint anyone and she just had a very motherly nature, needing to take care of everyone around her.

so, that translated that she was a pathological people pleaser. taking up extra shifts at her work, always saying yes to her boss even though she didn't want to do something he suggested, giving her coworkers rides home, baking them the cookies she once brought to work and everyone continuesly asked for, giving rides to her coworkers and so much more.

her natural instinct of saying yes to everything to please everyone left her exhausted all the time. so, when she did have free time all she'd do is nap, that would be the case, of course, if no one of her friends called her to hang out or have her do some kind of chore. matt had finally had enough of missing his girlfriend so much and never having any time with her. and that's when he decided to intervene.

firstly, he decided to mix up her white laundry with a piece of red clothing, painting all of her formal clothes and cute lingerie, pink. you moved on and said, "That's fine, sweetie. everyone makes mistakes." matt had to work harder to pull out the beast he knew you were hiding.

secondly, he started messing up all of your orders. putting onion and peppers in every order, two vegetables you hated passionately.you did show a little more aggression towards that, but you picked the disgusting veggies off and made no deal about it.

thirdly, matt thought this was his best shot at getting out the worst version of you. you were currently enjoying a party at full swing, everyone was having fun and drinking. you were with your girlfriends a few feet away from where you had last left matt. what you had failed to realize yet was that matt had some added companion from the last time you looked over to him. a girl glued to his side. at that moment ,you didn't think you'd ever been angrier. matt tried to hide his smirk as he saw you stalking over to him with crossed arms over your chest. when you got there, you tapped the girl aggressively on her shoulder, causing her to turn around and give you a look as if you were the one interrupting something. she suddenly spoke, "what do you want?" she said as her big brown eyes bored over your figure,"for you to stop talking to my boyfriend." you said as you pushed her out of the way and grabbed matt by his hand.

you had to managed to get away from the crowded house party and inside his parked car."can you tell me why the fuck that bitch was on you like that? you fucking bored of me or something?" you said as you slapped down his neck, matt couldn't help but smile wickedly. "maybe." he replied testing you even more, he knew he was playing with fire. "maybe, huh?? i'll fucking show you how boring i am, matt. get in the back and strip." he knew not to piss you off more so that's what he did. finally, you climed to the backseat right after he had obeyed and done everything you had asked him to.

"so, you think you're funny, matt, yeah? you think i'm such a people pleasure who would let you fuck some random dumb whore?" oh my god, did he love seeing this side of you. he made a mental note to piss you more often. he was getting a bit too excited while you were sat on top of his lap and quite literally could feel his dick stood up against your thigh. "no, no that's not what i was trying to do. i love you, baby." you laughed bitterly at that, grabbing him by his face and pulling his lips close enough to yours, touching but never kissing, "well, i think you deserve a lesson, baby." you said mocking him. so you got to work. you were currently on your knees on the floor of his car, leaving kisses on the length of his dick and occasional "kitten" licks on his tip. taking your sweet time teasing him and making it more painful each moment you passed without doing anything further. the growns you'd hear of him, making your core drip to the carpet of his car, due to your lack of underwear. whenever he'd to push your head so you could take him further into your mouth, you'd shake your head and shot him a disapproving look and he'd quickly let go. after a while of teasing him, you decided to fully take him in your mouth. he almost came when your warm mouth came into contact with his dick. your movements slow and steady. keeping him guessing your next movement. he knew not to try you, either. but when you felt his dick twitch in your mouth, you decided it was time to let go. you had brought him to such point of overstimulation and overwhelm that he could feel tears spill from his eyes. sat perched up on his lap with your legs spread, your skirt so shirt, giving him a view of your pantie-less pussy, he wanted to cry. so, when you finally leaned in to kiss him, he sighed in relief. your lips moving so hungrily against each other, his kiss so bruising. you could feel his hands grab the bottom of your tight crop top and pull it off your head. hands immediately going to grab at your breasts, meanwhile kissing and sucking your collarbones. then, he went down to suck your nipples, paying equal attention to both of them, his hands dropping to play with you clit. your pornographic moans filling the silence of his car. when you pulled his hands away to replace them with his dick he was gone for. he came almost immediately, as expected. but that didn't stop you. you weren't gonna stop if you didn't get to cum. so you eagerly moved on his dick trying to reach your high. your breasts jumping up and down on his face, a sight he wishes he could see every waking second of his life. that fueled him to thrust up inside you, not being able to resist but play with your tits once more. kissing and sucking. "you're so perfect, baby. no one could compare to you, my love." he said as he pulled from your tits and looking up at you with a lust filled gaze. both of you came to a high eventually. completely spent from your actions. "you love this side of me, don't you?" you accused matt, he couldn't help but let out the biggest smile "mhm yeah really turns me on how crazy you can get.", "oh, is that so?" "yes, i love my sweet kind girlfriend but baby you need to let out more the insane girl only i get to see."

[octuscle]

Howdy, Support! I'm a 22yo twink working at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. Only good part about my job is uh..."servicing" the passing truckers. One of 'em is a real beast of a man; late thirties, tall, burly and hairy, with a big, solid beer/roid gut that's always straining against his filthy tanktop. Everytime he stops by, we have a beer shotgun contest right in front of everyone. Loser blows the winner in the stalls. I normally enjoy losing (not that I have a choice), but this time, I want him to meet his match...literally! I want to drink him under the table, and with each beer I down, I want to feel my gut grow heavier and larger as my work clothes turn into a stained tanktop and I gradually transform into a hulking, hairy trucker that stinks of sweat, just like him. I've programmed all the relevant settings for height, muscle, hair, BO, attitude and clothing, but I just realized I don't know how to sync the transformation to an event trigger like shotgunning the beers, much less on how to make it gradual! Please help me, he's due today!

I love challenges… First of all, I'll add one more skill to your traits. "Stable up to 3.5 per mille". I don't know how much your crush can take. But now you've got a damn good chance of drinking the guy under the table. However, you should manage at least 2.0 per mille. Because your transformation will take place in parallel with your blood alcohol level. Linear, until you have reached 2.0 per mille. At 2.0 per mille, the transformation is complete.

It's around 8 p.m. when your buddy finally comes in the door. Like you said: a beast of a man. The fist bump he gives you almost breaks your forearm bones. Beast of a man? You're miles or 2.0 per mille away from that. You are cute. But a twink. Not a man.

The regulars know what to expect. They chant "Booze! Booze! Booze!" One of them shouts that you're in desperate need of a protein shot. The others roar. Your buddy orders 20 cans of beer. He shouts to his colleagues that there will definitely be some left for them. He looks at you, winks and licks his lips. He has no idea.

The first can of beer. It really hits you. 0.3 per mille. One seventh of your way gone in one go. You feel a bit dizzy. You've been king of the highway for two years now. Well, maybe prince of the highway. You haven't put much weight on your ribs yet. But the good food at the truck stops and the hard work loading your truck are already having a bit of an effect. Your arms are no longer as thin as twigs.

The second beer. It didn't go quite so quickly. You have to burp loudly. Your buddy follows your example. 0.56 per mille. You've been driving your 7.5-ton baby through the countryside for over three and a half years. Does you good. Not as skinny as you used to be. You look healthy. Maybe a little red in the face. Drunk.

After the third beer you have over 0.8 per mille. Another burp. You need a piss. You stand with your legs apart in front of the urinal to avoid peeing on your boots. You take out your cheesy beauty from your dirty jockstraps. And empty your bulging bladder. Wash your hands? That's for twinks. You simply wipe your hands on your dirty Wranglers.

Janet brings you some onion rings with your beer. Good idea. After the toilet break, you finish your fourth beer almost in one go. Your buddy has noticeable problems. Your blood alcohol level is over 1.0 per mille. This competition between you and your colleague has been going on for about seven years. In the trucker scene, your competitions are small highlights. As soon as it is clear when and where you will next get drunk under the table and then disappear to the stalls, new routes are planned. Service stations know that you'll bring in good sales and are keen to host the competition. There used to be a lot of betting on winning and losing. Your buddy has been unbeaten for seven years. There's not much betting anymore. The odds on you winning are huge. But nobody expects that anyway.

The next beer. At 1.26 per mille, you start to falter. Your buddy weighs a few more kilograms than your 100. Maybe you're already a little over 100 - you broke that magic barrier a few weeks ago on your 30th birthday. Eat, work hard and lift iron in the evening. That shapes your body. And beer. Lots of beer. To the delight of the audience, you interrupt your drinking contest for a short burping contest. The landlord actually has a device to measure the volume. You lose. That's clear. You lack the resonance body…

The next beer is a big miss for both you and your buddy. Your dirty tank tops are now wet from the beer. But that was a quick round of drinking, so it happens. You feel a bit dizzy. Your buddy is already looking extremely glassy-eyed. A murmur goes round the room. Should you really stand a chance?

After the seventh beer, you both have to go for a piss. Shit, why are you doing this to yourselves? So that one of you can blow the other? You do that as often as you can see each other anyway. And luckily your paths cross from time to time. "Dude, has your beast grown?" slurs your buddy as you stand swaying in front of the urinals and can no longer aim and hit the target very well. "You bet your life, get ready for a lot, bro," you slur back. "And now give me a kiss, I can't wait any longer."

You're too drunk to remember to turn your caps backwards. You push his cap off his head and it falls into a puddle of urine. Damn, it's seen worse. You stagger back to your beer cans. After the eighth beer, your first goal is achieved. 2.0 per mille blood alcohol. Spread over a proud 120 kilograms of your 35-year-old body. A passionate trucker for 13 years. Your 36-ton beast is basically your home and your family. Hehehe, there are a few other people in the family too. Mike here next to you, for example. You rip open the ninth can and empty it almost at record speed. Shit, you're going to be sick. Mike opens the can, takes a sip. And stumbles towards the toilet. He can't reach the toilet bowl. But at least he throws up in the sink.

When he comes back, he looks at you with glazed eyes. He falls to his knees in front of you to the loud roar of the audience and tries to open your trousers with his drunken head. You have to laugh. "Not here, not now, Buddie" You pull him up. Let him sober up a bit first. You should both enjoy the moment when he sucks you off for the first time!

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

I'll be putting the tag list at the end now ❤️

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 , PART 20 , PART 21 , PART 22 , PART 23 , PART 24 , PART 25 , PART 26 , PART 27 (You're here) , PART 28

Merlin: (thinking, reciting Gaius words) Deny, be submissive, be respectful. Deny, be submissive, be respectful (enters the throne room and bows) Did you call for me, Sire?

Uther: (siting on his throne, pulls out the neckerchief and asks very serious) Do you recognise this.

Merlin: (thinking) Straight to the point then... (pretends to analyse the item and then says) No, I don't believe so, Sire.

Uther: Are you sure?

Merlin: Pretty sure. I've never seen it in my life.

Uther: (puts the clothing back in his pocket) This clothing is part of a serious investigation, so I wanted to make sure.

Merlin: A investigation, Sire?

Uther: Early in the morning this clothing was found deep in the woods with dry blood stains. There were some blood stains on the ground nearby too.

Merlin: Oh... Well, good luck with your investigation then, Sire. 😅 (smiles nervous, thinking) Deny, be submissive, be respectful. Deny, be submissive, be respectful.

Uther: And more recently the bodies of Aulfric and Sophia Tirmawr were found.

Merlin: (confused) What? 😨

Uther: They are sending the corpses to Gaius to analyse them as we speak.

Merlin: (between worried and confused, to himself) But... that's not possible. (thinking) Or is it?

Uther: And why would that not be possible? 🤨

Merlin: (thinking) Shit! (says, trying to stay calm) Because I saw them leave Camelot with Arthur, Sire. They should've been away long ago. Why would someone kill them? Are you… Are you sure it’s them, Sire? (thinking) Deny, be submissive, be respectful. Deny, be submissive, be respectful.

Uther: (thinking) I never said they were killed (says) They could've died in the way. Who knows? Robbers, landslides, wild beasts. There are many hidden dangers on a road trip.

Merlin: Exactly! Maybe even the raiders that sacked their home?

Uther: (laughs dryly) Incredible… you dare to lie to the King right in front of his face. You don't fear the consequences at all.

Merlin: Why would I fear that, Sire? (thinking) Deny, be submissive, be respectful. Deny, be submissive, be respectful.

Uther: Do not insult my intelligence, I'm not Arthur. If you had told me that the garment was yours but you didn't know how it'd got there, I would've believed you. That would've confirmed what Gaius told me about you. That you are a boy without guile and malice, because that is what an honest and pure-hearted person would have said. They would've told the truth even though that would've put them under suspicion because they would trust in their own innocence. But you did the opposite, you denied that this was yours, which shows that you are not only cunning but also calculating. I do not blame you for lying, any wise person would avoid having any connection with murder case's evidence. The thing is that only a person who is aware that a murder occurred would do so, because if Sophia and her father had really left as you say then you wouldn't have seen the need to lie.

Merlin: (thinking, between nervous an impressed)I always wondered how he managed to almost erradicate the entire magic user community, the dragons and almost all the dragonlords. Now I know, he's very fucking smart! Okay, Merlin, just stick to the plan. Deny, be submissive, be respectful. Deny, be submissive, be respectful.(says) Or maybe the neckerchief really is not mine, Sire.

Uther: (enraged, he hits the throne and stands up) Stop lying to your King! Stop thinking you're so clever and disrespecting me! (pulls out the neckerchief and walks to Merlin) I know for a fact that this neckerchief is yours. It’s the only thing I knew for sure before you entered this room. And before you spout any more lies from that vile and poisonous tongue of yours, I can also prove it. (stops infront of Merlin) The first thing I did upon receiving this neckerchief was to research this fabric. This color is something only royalty uses, but there are many royal families in Albion, so each royal family has a different embroidery pattern so they can differentiate their belongings from other royals, and this fabric! (raises the cloth in a fist) was made especially for the Pendragon royal family. This is something only I or my son could wear. It goes without saying that this does not belong to me or Arthur. And before you come up with another pathetic excuse to defend yourself, I'll tell you that each batch that the fabrics are dyed with is not only expensive, but limited. Only a certain amount of purple dye is made each year so only a few yards of fabric are dyed. That's why the yards of fabric my son and I received are all recorded. (takes out log book and opens it) In the last year I received 4 meters of fabric, Arthur 2 meters, of which he used to make a tunic and... guess what he did with the leftover? A neckerchief (closes book and puts it back in his pocket)

Merlin: ...

Uther: So what do you have to say for yourself now?

Merlin: (thinking) Deny, be submissive, be respectful. Deny, be submissive, be respectful. (says in the calmest voice he can) I don't know what you want me to say, Sire. It seems like you already decided I'm guilty.

Uther: (drops the neckerchief and lifts his sword at Merlin, threatening) Where are Aulfric and Sophia?

Merlin: (thinking) Deny, be submissive, be respectful! Deny, be submissive, be respectful! (says) Didn't you just say you found the bodies, Sire?

Uther: (raises his voice) Don't play dumb with me! You knew they weren't found! Where did you hide them?!

Merlin: I didn't kill them!

Uther: One more lie and I'll cut your throat! At first I thought you were just some peasant after some coins, but your ambition was way bigger, wasn't it?

Merlin: (thinking) Deny, be submissive, be respectful! Deny, be submissive, be respectful!

Uther: And, since Lady Sophia was getting in the way of your plans, you got rid of her! An innocent, lovely lady-

Merlin: Oh, please! She was anything but innocent.

Uther: (can't believe the audacity) What?

Merlin: (thinking) Fuck! Deny, be... how was it? (says) I mean, how do you know she was innocent, Sire? You are SO suspicious of me, and yet didn't bother to corroborate Aulfric's story was true at all! "We are from Tirmawr and our home was sacked by raiders, boo", really? Anybody could enter the castle claiming they're nobels like that! But sure, lets invite these outsiders we've never seen in our lifes. What do we have to be afraid of? It's not like we are someone important like royalty and recieve assesinations attemps on a daily basis! (composes himself)... Sire.

Uther: (lets out a small laugh of triumph) So that's the excuse you gave Arthur! That they were impostors that were trying to kill him, so that he would cover for you.

Merlin: No! I'm just saying they could've been-

Uther: If Sophia really wanted to kill the Prince of Camelot she would've waited til they were alone at their honeymoon. Yet she ran away, because YOU humiliated her! And do you really want me to believe Arthur wouldn't be able to defend himself of a defenseless young lady and an old man? Arthur, a trained knight!.

Merlin: (thinking, trying very hard no to explode) Submissive and respectful. Stay submissive and repectful (says, gritting his teeth) I'm just saying first impressions aren't always the right ones and it's not wise to understimate people even if they look harmless, Your Majesty.

Uther: Oh, I'm definitely not going to understimate you. (sheaths his sword) I heard what I needed to hear. You're days here in Camelot are over. You are going to go back to your stinky little village with nothing but what you're wearing and never return!

Merlin: (shouts, alarmed) What?! You can't do that! You can't separate me from Arthur!

Uther: (shouts back) I'm the king, so yes I can! And if you dare to cross the border you'll be executed immediately. I'm never letting you near my son again!

Merlin: (his face contorts with disbelief, anguish and anger, thinking) Deny-submi-respec-FUCK IT, FUCK IT ALL! (suddenly, he laughs and laughs and laughs, saying) You are so, SO funny!

Uther: (surprised at his reaction, but says very serious) I don't recall saying anything funny.

Merlin: (Stops laughing) Sorry, let me correct myself. You are SO SCARED it's funny.

Uther: ...What?

Merlin: You say you are so certain I killed Aulfric and Sophia, but instead of just arresting and execute me for murder, you had to lock up Arthur in the dungeons for what? To make this stupid test and then threaten to do stuff you can't actually do, because you know Arthur wouldn't allow it! The truth is, Uther Pendragon, you can't do ANYTHING to me. You can't HURT me.

Uther: (slaps Merlin, furious)

Meanwhile, with Arthur in the dungeons.

Arthur: (trying to force the door open) Come on. Come on!

Sir Innprudence: (from the celd beside) It's useless, Sire. We tried.

Sir Ewan: (from the celd in the other side) No, we didn't!

Sir Innprudence: Right, we didn't, because that's wrong.

Arthur: What are you doing here?

Sir Ewan: You sent us here, Sire.

Sir Innprudence: And it's being a nightmare! I miss my family and friends. I'm starting to forget their faces! 😭

Arthur: You've just been here for a day. 😒

Sir Innprudence: But you've been here for less than an hour and you're trying to escape, sire.

Sir Ewan: (scolds) Innprudence! 😠 (to Arthur) I'm sure that's not what you were really doing, Sire.😅

Arthur: No, that's exactly what I'm doing. My father is planning to do something to Merlin, I don't know what, but if he had to imprisoned me here to do it, it mustn't be good. I have to get out, now!

Sir Innprudence: Well, I have a little spoon here, Sire. Maybe we could use it to make a hole in the wall-

Arthur: That would take years!

Sir Ewan: I managed to make a stick with a little hook to try to grab the keys, but the guards that have them are too far.

Arthur: So it's pointless.

Sir Ewan: ...yeah.

Arthur: (exasperated, to the ceiling) Can't I have a useful knight for once? Just once!

Sir Ewan: I'm sorry, Sire.

Sir Innprudence: There isn't really much we can do. The King's will is above anyone else's.

Arthur: (to himself, whispering) The King... (calls out one of the guards) Hey, you! Come here! Your future King is talking to you!

Guard: (comes) Do you need something, Sire?

Arthur: I demand to be release this instant.

Guard: That's not possible, Sire. The King-

Arthur: Your King now.

Guard: ...Excuse me, Sire?

Arthur: My father won't be King forever. And, once he passes, I'll be your King. A King who will remember this very day when he was imprisoned against his will. And guess who is going to be the first to receive my rage?

Guard: ...

Arthur: However, if you help me out now. Rage will be replaced by gratitude that will come in the form of lands, money... or even status. More than enough for you and your family.

Guard: (tempted, but scared) Sire... please. I can't disobey the King. It's treason.

Arthur: What are you talking about? You didn't disobey the King. I got a hold of you and you fighted hard, but I'm a very skilled knight, so I managed to knock you out and that's when a took your keys and escaped.

Guard: ...

Arthur: So? The keys?

Guard: (pulling out the key, still doubtful) But... if the King finds out...

Arthur: (smiles, reassuring) He won't find out. I'll make it believable. (extends his hand) The keys.

Guard: (extends the hand with the keys)

Arthur: (pulls his arm instead and hits his head with the iron bars)

Guard: (falls to the floor, unconscious)

Arthur: I told I'd make it believable. (takes the keys and opens the cell) Thank you. (leaves running)

Sir Innprudence: Wait! Sire!

Sir Ewan: You forgot about us! Sire!

Sir Innprudence: ...

Sir Ewan:...

Sir Innprudence: Hey, I think your stick might work now. He left the keys there.

Back at the throne room.

Merlin: (brings a hand to his cheek, eyes wide in shock and offended)

Uther: (with barely contained fury and hatred) Until you finally showed your real face, scum. Who do you think you are to speak to me like that? You are nothing but a serving boy!

Merlin: I'm much more than that.

Uther: (red with fury) How dare you? (shouts) You are speaking to your King!

Merlin: (shouts back) You are NOT my King! Arthur is. And he will be a better and more worthy king that you ever were.

Uther: (about to slap him again)

Merlin: (stops Uther's hand by holding his wrist midway) I don't think so.

Uther: (even more red with fury) You! Little- (brings a hand to his chest suddenly in pain)

Merlin: (all his boldness gone) Sire?

Uther: (twitches and falls to the ground)

Merlin: (in panic) Sire! (kneels and starts checking him frantic, but there is no response and thinks) Oh, Gods! OH GODS! I killed him. I killed the King! No, no, no, no, no! This wasn't supposed to happen so soon! What have I done?! Am I mad? Why did I say all those things? I think I believed he was Uther's ghost for a second. Well, he is a ghost now... NO! He can't be dead! Arthur will be devasted! He can't be dead! Please, please, please, wake up!

Arthur: (opens the door with force and enters, frantic and worried) Merlin! (stares in shock at the scene before him)

Merlin: (looks up in panic and tears of desperation and guilt run down his eyes) Arthur, I-I don't what happened-I didn't-I didn't mean to. He was...and then I...I'm so sorry!

Arthur: (walks to Merlin in silence)

Merlin: (in more panic) I swear on my mother's life I didn't think this would happen. Arthur, please, belie-

Arthur: (kneels and hugs Merlin)

Merlin: ...

Arthur: (pulls away just enough so he looks at Merlin in the eye) Are you alright? He didn't do anything to you?

Merlin: (confused) Uhm... not really.

Arthur: (cups Merlin's face with one hand and hardens his features) He hit you.

Merlin: (getting out of his stupor) It's nothing. But, Arthur, your father! (points at Uther, alarmed)

Arthur: (gives Uther a glance in silence. Then stands up, pulling Merlin with him and calls out) Guards!

Guards: (enter)

Arthur: The King fainted. Bring the Court Physician inmediatly.

Guards: (worried) Yes, Sire (leave quickly)

Merlin: (thinking, a strange feeling in his guts) How... how is that the guards seemed more worried than Arthur himself?

...

Let's remeber this happened before the events of "To kill a King" and "La Morte d'Arthur", so no, Uther didn't die. But how did Merlin get away with insulting and almost killing the King? What did Arthur do? You can make your guesses in the comments ☺️

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd

[danieyells]

I'm not sure why I feel so attracted to the idea of Jiro sedating the MC and touching them over their clothes but not daring to do much more, and later the MC waking up and thinking it was a kind of dream influenced by him taking care of their pre-op "well he was always handsome"

You're attracted to it because it's hot anon 👀 the vulnerability, the drugging, the lack of fulfillment when all he does is grope over your clothes, the uncertainty--i'm always a slut for dub/non-con and drugging oh lord 👀 tell me more anon

And man i sure hope this isn't total gibberish because i wrote it in parts over the course of the day and only finished like now and it's 4am. . . .

I feel a little disappointed in this one, i'll admit lolol and it's not exactly what you described but maybe you'll like it anyway?

Obvious non/dubcon and (consensual, medical) drugging cws. Additional warnings for that the pc is never named and is only referred to as 'they' for the most part, and I left their gender and genitals ambiguous, which makes for some sloppy writing on my part. . . .

They had been helping at Jabberwock a few days prior and they'd been bitten by an anomaly. It was a minor injury but Haru was worried about the side effects. After Towa nearly sent the poor creature to hell, they'd been sent to Mortkranken for examination, to be certain the beast's venom wouldn't have any lasting effects.

It was Yuri who inspected them the first time. Even after spending time helping the medical house, Yuri still made the inspector feel a little on edge. They worried the only thing that kept them from more than basic examination and preventative care was Professor Nicolas' presence.

"Their venom is slow acting." Yuri scoffed after they described the anomaly they'd been affected by. He walked with them after they were discharged, making his way to another patient in the building as he explained before they went their separate ways. "If you go a week without noticing any changes the medicine worked in full. Come back if you start experiencing any unintended muscle movements!"

With that sharp dismissal, they returned to the Cathedral, worrying over every twitch and itch and crawl under their skin.

And three days later they were once again in Mortkranken after a sudden movement of their leg nearly sent them careening down a staircase.

Kaito and Luca had been kind enough to rush them to the infirmary, where Professor Nicolas subsequently had them quickly transported to Mortkranken as the anomalous effects would be better treated there(much to Kaito's dismay.)

A general student saw them into a wheelchair and rolled them inside the office, helping them onto an examination table to make sure another spasm wouldn't cause them any injury. Even as they were brought inside they began to panic as the spasms increased in frequency and spread from their leg into other parts of their body. They shook and twitched against their own wishes, even as Jiro arrived in the exam room with the necessary materials.

"You're moving too much." Jiro sighed on sight, putting down the needle he'd filled without even saying hello. He moved to fetch a fresh one and a small jar of lavender colored fluid. "I'm going to sedate you. You should be okay to fall asleep, if you feel tired. You shouldn't die."

The human tried to find the honest statement and lack of alarm comforting. If they were dying then surely Yuri and Nicolas would have been contacted? Or perhaps their curse or the ring would have counteracted it?

The summer had seen them abandon their blazer in favor of wearing a short sleeve dress shirt, making access to their arm quite simple. Jiro moved to hold their upper arm when another spasm rocked it. After waiting for the jolts to cease, he gripped their arm tight enough to make them wince, disinfected their skin with precision, and jabbed the needle into their upper arm with a little pinch.

The effect was almost immediate as he pushed down the plunger. The moment the fluid entered them they felt fuzzy, their vision swimming as if with exhaustion. The warmth spread and their muscles relaxed, losing most of their strength. Where a convulsion was about to start they felt a much weaker muscle spasm, registering in their mind as barely a crawl of their skin. Once all of the fluid had entered them, the needle was pulled out and discarded in an anomalous container for sharps; the spot was immediately cleaned and bandaged.

The sedative must have had some additional effect, the inspector reasoned. Where Jiro must have had been pressing fingers against the plaster to stop any bleeding, they imagined a long press of his lips.

But that wouldn't make sense.

Or be sanitary wound care.

(Would he even have a concept of 'kissing wounds makes them better'? It didn't seem like he grew up in such a gentle environment.)

Once he was certain the spasms had been relaxed Jiro put on a new pair of gloves and fetched his original needle. "This should kill any of the remaining venom." He explained as he cleaned another patch of skin. "Aside from the initial pinch you shouldn't notice anything odd. Maybe a little burning.

"If you feel anything besides that. . . ." He looked into their eyes, glassy and hazy. Barely there, their mind and body were so numb. For a moment they were able to focus on him, and he seemed to smile in amusement--although, that would be strange for Jiro, so it must have just been the medicine. "Just lie there and drool, I suppose. I'll take care of it."

Any attempt at response failed, their body feeling so limp that even speaking was a task. It felt like a nightmare of helplessness, the kind they'd had many times since coming to Darkwick--unable to move their body and helpless at the mercy of some person or beast. But even through the needles' sharp penetration(barely noticed in the haze of their sedation) they felt surprisingly safe. Perhaps their sleeping mind heard Jiro's blunt explanations and took them as literal as Jiro meant them to be and felt no fear or discomfort. They were helpless and heavy, but not afraid despite it. Like a dream within a dream.

As Jiro had claimed, they feel nothing but a light burn tingling in their veins. A gentle buzz throughout their being. They could almost feel the anomalous medicine working, seeking out the toxicity in their muscles and killing it. Or perhaps the sensitivity was part of their sedative-induced dream.

"Done." Jiro announced. The needle left them, and they were cleaned and bandaged once again. Jiro kissed--or pressed against, more likely--the bandage until the bleeding stopped. They opened their bleary eyes to watch him as he cleaned up. "You'll need to be monitored for about ten minutes, to make sure there are no side effects." He looked back at them lying on the examination table, a limp doll of a human. Not that, compared to Jiro, they were much stronger than a doll to begin with. "Not that you can go anywhere. In your condition."

Was that a laugh, or a sigh? It was a little huff of a sound, something they might as well have had imagined. A lot of things seemed imagined here. Like that Jiro didn't leave to attend to another patient and leave a general student to look after them until they could move again. Yuri would have likely had them put in a chair and wheeled back home with one of their friends. . .or worse, used their helpless body in some sort of experiment.

Perhaps that thought is what made the Jiro in their mind come closer once everything was in order and examine them closely. Had it been ten minutes? Time really didn't seem to have a meaning right now. They tried moving, and found little change in when they were first injected.

"Did I give you too much?" Jiro asked, slipping strong hands under their arms and repositioning them. They managed a sound best(though still poorly) described as a weak squeak in acknowledgement. "It's a strong sedative. If I didn't give it to you the venom might have started coordinating your spasms until it controlled your body. You'll be able to move again eventually."

Once they'd been placed back onto the table in a good position, the head of the table slightly raised, Jiro watched them.

Then, he moved a hand to lightly rest on their sternum.

"You're not breathing very hard." He observed. His hand traveled over to the left, cupping their chest. His other hand went to their neck, resting over their pulse. The palm over their chest started stroking the area through their shirt, heavy and dragging as if absentminded. They tensed, trying to squirm but too weak to do so.

"Your RPM and heart rate are a little high." Jiro noted aloud, though not on any sort of chart. The hand on their neck traced their throat with a thumb. "And you're starting to warm up. An allergic reaction, maybe. . .? You weren't found to be allergic to any of the anomalous medicine we use during your health checks."

The hand on their chest gave the tissue a squeeze. First a soft massaging, then something rougher. The way he spoke was so clinical, they had to assume the contact was little more than a fever dream, the last of the spasms wracking their body in particularly sensitive places and their sleeping mind filling in the blanks with thoughts of their vulnerable body being toyed with by the handsome, stoic doctor.

Even the tweak to one of their nipples wasn't enough to wake them, only enough to elicit another squeak and make them shudder in lieu of squirming or arching their back. Even when the hand on their throat moved to their jaw and traced their lips, sinking into their unresistant mouth to stroke their tongue, they assumed they were dreaming, misinterpreting what was happening in the waking world. Jiro commented on their temperature, thumb teasing the back of their throat until they just barely gagged. He retracted his hand entirely to mind their pebbling nipples with both.

What started so purely as the medical attention they needed had, in some length of time that they couldn't measure through the fog, became a pair of strong and heavy hands tracing down their side and waist, sliding over to grope at their tummy. The muscles beneath weakly tensed at the ticklish feeling, and he gave a little hum in acknowledgement. "It looks like you're getting your strength back, at least."

When he relocated his hands to their hips, they confirmed this slight recovery with a little squirm. He squeezed down, presumably to keep them still. "Relax. You'll need your strength for when you leave."

Presumably, it was to keep them still, although they felt his hands slip beneath to their rear, kneading their ass and tracing their crack through their clothes. When he spread the cheeks, he once again received a whine and a squirm, which he responded to with a rough squeeze as if in punishment. Nonetheless, he moved down to their thighs, similarly admiring their shape and feel, before slipping his hands between and spreading them without a hint of effort on his part.

"Ji--!" Their slurred attempt at speech was disrupted by their choked gasp when Jiro's groping moved to squeeze their crotch. The sudden jolt of pleasure, after being worked up through what felt like hours of slowly being toyed with, was enough to almost push through the muscle relaxants in the sedative for just a moment, letting them arch into the contact. They were still too weak to grind into his hand, however, and he only pushed back enough to get their hips to drop painfully back onto the table.

"I told you to calm down." His fingers traced the shape of their genitals, stroking as if to learn the shape more than to titillate. Jiro was a doctor. He'd personally given them medical examinations where they were wearing much less. He already knew what was there, though not in such intimacy. He didn't like 'pointless' things. He wouldn't see a point in something like this. So it could only be a dream. He massaged them through the fabric of their uniform and underwear, fingers pressing and stroking where heat seeped through the most. They only hoped he couldn't feel the moisture gathering there as well. "Your temperature is going up again."

Watching Jiro's actions was difficult in their exhausted condition. While there was no way they could conceptualize that Jiro would actually do any of this, some part of them desperately wanted to know what Jiro--if only as a product of their imagination--was feeling as he brought them agonizingly slowly towards orgasm.

They blinked through the mist of tears they realized must have been forming along with the drool running down their still parted lips, until Jiro's face came into focus. He was much too close to their lap, so close his even, unhurried breaths could be felt warming them through their clothes. It only added to the stimulation. Jiro was an adult, even if he sometimes seemed quite juvenile, like when he laughed at stag beetles fighting or Yuri struggling not to sleep in class; it was surely impossible that he didn't know what he was doing.

On the other hand, he'd been in a coma for some time, and he had no real consideration for the privacy of others' bodies. . .the intent look of study combined with a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he breathed over their aroused genitals and felt the way the touch of his scarred hands made them change. . . .

It was as if he was using their body to sate some curiosity, rather than truly molest them. Even the way his other hand gripped their clothing, as if considering simply removing it, seemed too explorative to be malicious or manipulative.

Or perhaps they simply thought that way because their angle didn't afford them the sight of his lap, to see if he was, perhaps, getting as aroused as they were.

But Jiro paused in his ministrations, contact returning shortly to simply resting his hand on that sensitive and throbbing area, before he retracted his hands completely. Again, they whinged, squirming at being left alone as Jiro seemed to disappear from the examination table.

"Interesting." What was of interest wasn't quite clear. It occurred to them that their body's responses to their dream were real, and perhaps the real Jiro was made aware of their arousal. It was impossible to tell his reaction from his voice alone, and they writhed in humiliation at being caught in some sort of medically induced wet dream. "It seems like you'll need a little more time to recover."

They held their breath, but the contact never returned. They felt themself cooking down, but still sensitive, as if Jiro's touch was lingering. Occasionally they heard some noise in the examination room--a turning page or a keyboard or computer mouse or writing implements on paper. Occasionally a noise from a phone, or a distant echo from out in the hall. But for the most part, all they heard was a strangely loud and hazy silence.

At some point, the dream turned to void, as if they'd fallen asleep inside of it.

When they came to, the world had much less of a layer of fog over it. Their body still felt heavy, but not so much so that they couldn't move it. Sounds were a bit sharper, and yet they heard less as if their senses had been heightened in their sleep. Yuri was scolding Jiro, something about dawdling in here with the sleeping patient when there was work to be done.

"They had a reaction to the antivenom." Jiro explained, his voice coming closer. As usual his footfalls were shockingly quiet, and they would have never known he was coming near if he weren't speaking. They squinted into the strong lights, raising an arm to cover their face. "They're awake now, so I'll discharge them."

"Fine. But hurry up! You know what happens when you're late for your medicine, and I won't tolerate your complaints if you're the cause of your own delay!" Yuri stormed out, likely to prepare Jiro's medication, not even acknowledging them despite having had seen them out when they first checked in days prior.

Jiro, meanwhile, presented them with a light snack of crackers and a juice box. "I would recommend eating a meal and getting some rest once you get home. That sedative wasn't made for restful sleep."

They cleared their throat after taking a few sips of juice. "You said I had a reaction. . . ."

"Yes."

"What. . .happened. . .?"

"Increased temperature, heart rate, and respiration." Jiro explained, watching them eat.

"Did you do anything to stop them. . .?" They really wanted to ask if it was truly a product of the antivenom, but feared sounding accusatory over what was likely a dream.

"No. They weren't at a dangerous level. I just kept an eye on them so make sure they didn't get worse."

They nodded, sipping their juice again. "And the sedative can give you strange dreams? You said it isn't made for restful sleep. . . ."

"Your body is forced to sleep without your mind being put into a restful place first. It would be like falling asleep with something on your mind, making you more likely to dream about it. So, yes, that would likely be the case."

They heaved a somewhat disappointed sigh, tilting the last of their snack crackers into their mouth. "That's good, I think. . .I'm glad that's all that happened."

"If you say so."

That response felt off. Jiro took their trash and threw it away, fetching the wheelchair they were rolled in on to help them into it. He put a hand on their back, making them jump as they were gently pushed to the edge of the lowered bed to sit up.

"What do you mean? That's all that happened, isn't it?"

"It already happened." Jiro said dismissively, putting his hands under their arms to lift them up(again?) and sit them into the chair, not trusting their legs just yet. "I don't see a point in worrying what happened between your treatment and now."

The cursed inspector tried to formulate a response that could convince Jiro to share what he meant--even if all he said was that he had read a medical journal, or that he'd adjusted them in bed a few times--but knowing Jiro they couldn't think of a way to get him to talk. They squeezed their thighs together, feeling their genitals throb from the orgasm denial, the unfulfillment of their dream that might have been reality. But they were already back in the Mortkranken lobby, where Luca greeted them with a kind smile, approaching.

"Can you walk?" He asked as Jiro locked the chair. They set one leg on the floor and, though it felt heavy, they could definitely balance enough to get up and stumble over to Luca on wobbly legs before giving a weak nod. "I'm glad to hear it. It looks like you've recovered well. Are they clear to return home, Doctor Kirisaki?"

"Just Jiro is fine." Jiro looked them over once more. It was surely their imagination that his gaze lingered on their crotch--where they squeezed their thighs together tightly, remembering their dizzy dream and just how close his lips were before he pulled away--as opposed to their slightly wobbling legs. "They're a fall risk until they've had a meal and some rest. But they're safe for discharge."

A general Mortkranken student trotted up, offering the scholarship student their discharge paperwork and instructions, then collected the wheelchair for sensitization and storage once the papers were taken. They and Lucas thanked them kindly, and Jiro as well. He simply nodded in response, before they began to make their way out the door.

The cursed human took one final look back at Jiro, who simply tilted his head at them like so many of the cats around campus. Then he winced and turned away, stumbling towards the basement to receive his medication.

About two or three hours later, they received a WickChat message.

Jiro: You implied you experienced an odd dream as an effect of the sedative. This may also have been a yet unseen reaction between the sedative and the antivenom. Jiro: For the sake of proper documentation, would you be able to expound upon the dream at all? It's okay if you can't remember everything. Any details would be valuable to the understanding of anomalous medicine and its effects on humans and individuals afflicted by curses.

Their heart pounded. Telling Jiro what they dreamed of could be valuable information, but could they really bear the humiliation of it? Of explaining that they'd had a nearly wet dream about him, while he was in the room with them? Would Jiro even think anything of it, oblivious as he is to emotional matters?

Jiro: If it helps, a date for you to be sedated again could be arranged. You could be attached to a brain wave monitor, so your memory won't need to be relied upon. Jiro: Perhaps the dream will reoccur. I'll be sure to thoroughly extract something of value, so the experience isn't wasted.

Perhaps it was his use of 'thoroughly extracting value', but the thought crossed their mind that they hadn't been dreaming at all, and that Jiro mayhaps wanted to finish what he started. But it wouldn't make sense from the get go for it to have had been real. . . .

And yet they remembered Jiro's talk of prescribing death to others and dismissing ethics.

There was no point in discussing the ethics of something that had already been done, he said.

Perhaps some of the experience was real. He wouldn't have had been so cryptic about what had happened while they slept if nothing had occurred, would he?

Although, he was often cryptic about things, so perhaps that was merely coincidence and they were getting their hopes up--

Jiro: A prompt response would be appreciated. 'No' is an acceptable response, as well.

They scrambled to type a response, realizing they'd left him on read.

8636: I don't know how well I can recall. . . . 8636: I'm willing to be re-sedated, though! 8636: Before I agree to it, may I ask a potentially non-medical question? Jiro: I can't stop you from asking questions over WickChat. 8636: What happened while I was sedated today? After I was given the antivenom?

There was a pause, but no typing for a while. Then the general Mortkranken WickChat messaged them with appointment information.

8636: Jiro? Jiro: ? 8636: I didn't see a response, so I was just checking in. . . . Jiro: I didn't agree to answer the question.

A fair, if disappointing response.

Jiro: Just know I attempted to administer a holistic remedy to an unanticipated physiological response that arose during your treatment.

The response took a little longer to parse. As realization dawned on them, the next message came in.

Jiro: It didn't work as intended, as I'm not very experienced with such methods or concerns. Perhaps you noticed your continued affliction after discharge, and your discharge instructions. Jiro: Should the same issue arise, I've done more research.

They covered their face in embarrassment.  The discharge instruction "administer personal relief as needed" made much more sense now. They desperately hoped the Mortkranken student who handed them their discharge instructions hadn't read it first.

Accepting this explanation, they hastily sent an apology and threw themself down in bed, covering their face. Did they have to go to the appointment!? Jiro had only been trying to help them, albeit in an extremely questionable way. . .and somehow the thought that he had done more research to better serve the need in question. . .it was embarrassing, despite that they were the victim. They were able to excuse it, rationalizing that they were attracted to Jiro anyway and the idea alone felt exciting, but now walking into it as though it were any other medical procedure felt. . .insincere.

Resolving to perhaps cancel the appointment and try and get Jiro to have a talk with them about ethics, they dozed off, trying to ignore the returning heat and throbbing between their legs.

When they next awoke, it was to a small pinch, like the needles they'd recieved that day.

Just as had happened earlier, their strength was robbed from them nearly immediately, and they gasped as they felt a pair of lips on their chest, sucking at the nipple through their pajamas. A familiar large, heavy hand squeezed their other breast, twisting and tugging the nipple there.

"Not to worry." Jiro reassured through the gloom and the haze of sleep and strong sedatives. "Just like earlier, this is all a dream."

Limp in bed, a heavy doll for him to experiment on, what could they do but comply?

[hazelkjt]

The Moon and Her Sun

Hazel Kha, the Warrior of Light. Slayer of beasts, gods, and everything in between. And yet, this was somehow her greatest challenge yet: clothing shopping with Zero.

The Voidsent previously only had her armor as her only form of clothing, but if she was to have extended stays in the Source she would need something more to wear, and they even did go shopping once before...but what's the harm in having some extra clothes? So after convincing Zero that no, the Gil wouldn't be an issue and yes, she had the space to keep all Zero's outfits the two went on a bit of a spree in the Sapphire Avenue Exchange...or so Hazel thought it would be.

As it turns out, Zero doesn't know what she wants to wear. Or rather, Zero never considered what she wanted to wear before. Fashion in the Thirteenth was never really a priority over survival after all. And while Hazel could've for sure just taken the initiative and bought what she thought Zero would look good and be comfortable in, like the first time around she did this. Instead, she insisted that Zero pick for herself. But, as it turns out, this was the equivalent to pulling teeth.

Eventually, hours later, the two of them had acquired a good wardrobe for the Voidsent during her visits here: an array of clothes in blues and blacks. Enough for her current time in the Source, at the very least. "The two of them make their way "My apologies for this Hazel...as well as my thanks." Zero calls behind her as she begins to make her way down the street. Hazel speeds up a bit to keep pace with the Voidsent, the bags of clothes jostling as she picks up her pace. "Don't worry, Zee. It's no big deal." Hazel says out loud, thinking to herself how happy she is it's over.

The two continue on in silence down the avenue, Hazel stealing glances at Zero every few seconds. That is, until a glint from her stall catches her eye. She drops the bags and makes her way over to the jeweler, Zero taking notice and halting as well. "Did something catch your eye?" The Voidsent slowly takes a spot next to Hazel, who seems to ignore her question.

It was a pair of necklaces, a stylized sun and moon each with a gemstone incorporated. Hazel was certain they were supposed to represent Azeyma and Menphina...but just maybe...

"I'll take both of these!" She exclaims out loud, pointing to both necklaces. The merchant quickly swipes up Hazel's Gil and motions for Hazel to take the jewelry. Zero watches with curiosity as the Au Ra puts the moon necklace on and extends the sun to her. "Here...for you." Hazel motions for Zero to take the necklace out of her hand, her cheeks beginning to turn a bright red.

"Hazel...I..." Zero begins to stammer, a rarity for the ever stoic Voidsent. She knew what this meant to Hazel, having done her own research previously. The creation myth of the Xaela, Azim and Nhaama. It's not traditionally a love story except for the version told by the Oronir tribe, and while Hazel is of a different tribe she has a fondness for that iteration. Zero begins to feel her cheeks warm while staring at the sun necklace in the Au Ra's hand.

"Shouldn't...would it not make more sense for me to wear the moon?" Zero's voice was softer than usual, a detail both of them catch. Hazel brings her free hand to the moon medallion now around her neck. Her tail begins to flick back and forth. "Well, I, y'know..." The Au Ra begins, unsure of how to voice her thoughts.

"You're incredible, you know that Zero? And...I want everyone else to know that too. So I'll be the one showing how bright you shine when you're not here. You're the light of my life after all..." Hazel's words trail off to a whisper. Both her's and Zero's faces deepen in their shades of red, the two staring in silence for a moment. They lock eyes with one another for a good period before being brought back to the current moment by an awkward cough behind them: the jeweler.

Hazel looks behind herself and sheepishly gives an apologetic smile to the merchant, moving to pocket the necklace. "I'm sorry Zee...forget it." But before the Au Ra could slide the necklace into her skirt pocket Zero grabs her wrist with one hand and catches the falling necklace in the other.

"If that is what you desire..." She begins, starting to tie the sun necklace around her own neck. "...Then who am I to deny it?" Zero ends with a smile, her hand still clasped around the ornate sun. Hazel finally lets a smile appear on her face as well. "Hehah...alright then. Shall we get going my Sun?" Gods, that was such a BAD LINE, she thinks to herself immediately after.

Zero turns around and glances back to Hazel. "Of course, my Moon." She responds, beginning to walk to the airship landing. Hazel lets out the breath she didn't know what she was holding in. I guess it wasn't that bad a line after all...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Steve Rogers.

“The sweetest woman in the world

Could be the meanest woman in the world

If you make her that way

You keep on hurtin' her, she keeps being quiet

She might be holding something inside

That really really hurts you one day”

Great Expectations

Warnings: abuse, allusions to violence, depression, self-pity, and some possible unmentioned triggers.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: Your husband reminds you of your role.

As always, I appreciate all kinds of feedback. A like and reblog means so much to me! <3

Your tears stain your cheeks, dropping into the sink where you submerge your hands in lukewarm water. You tremble, clacking together the plates, sifting through the suds to find a solid grasp. You swirl the sponge around a dish before rinsing it and setting it in the rack.

Then another, and another. Glasses, plates, bowls. Your tears continue to stream. Your ears are fuzzy with the echoes of the violent tempest. You pull your hands out of the water, brushing your thumbs along the cuts you can't feel. Those that etched into your flesh as you scrambled to gather the shards scattered in his anger.

You hear the stairs creak and you scrunch your nose, trying to chase away the tickle. He hates it when you cry. He hates everything about you it seems. He doesn't know how much you hate yourself when you can't drag yourself out of bed.

You sense him behind you, looming the doorway. You grab the dishcloth and dry your hands. You quickly pat away your tears as you move to the rack and open the cupboard above. You stack each plate neatly after wiping every speck of moisture from it.

He lurks closer, prowling like a beast, his heavy breaths betray the lingering irritation. You know you cannot make another mistake. So you will only do as you should and say nothing at all.

"There's blood on your dress."

You don't dare ignore him. That's worse than saying the wrong thing. You face him and wring the dishcloth as you fight to keep your hands from shaking.

"I'm sorry, sir," you sniff.

"Sorry? You better hope it comes out. Wasn't cheap."

"Yes, sir, I understand," you gulp, "I'm sorry--"

"Sorry?" He scowls, "don't be so pathetic. All you have to do it the bare minimum. Be a wife. Clean the house. Cook dinner. It's not rocket science."

"I know, sir," you stop yourself from another apology, and wipe your cheek without thinking.

"Don't you fucking cry," he warns.

"No, sir, I won't," you shake your head and suck your low lips under your teeth.

He rolls his eyes and huffs. He puts his hands on his hips and pivots on one heel. He paces before you. Your blood flows undiluted onto the cloth and you squeeze it tighter.

"I gave you a house, a ring, and you can't even sweep the floor while I'm out putting my ass on the line. Not just for you, for this whole fucking planet. And you're here acting like a little work is gonna break you."

You chew your lip and accept his reproach. It seems so simple when he says it. You really are lazy. You really are a leech, sucking off of him and his generosity.

You deserve this.

"You know," he stops and points a finger at you, "there was this woman, she was all over me, and I said no. No. Why? Because of you. Because I have a wife," he turns his hand and waggles his finger so his ring gleams, "maybe next time, I'll take this off."

You wince as if he's slapped you. It's easier when he does. The pain doesn't stay beyond the bruise.

"I'll be better," you croak, your voice wobbling dangerously as tears threaten to spring again.

"You say that," he sneers as he turns his back to you, "but you never are."

[fortune-fool02]

Monthly Routine

Werewolf Luis Serra x female reader

Summary: That time of the month again for Luis and another night of shenanigans for [Name].

Werewolf AU

Warning: Fluff. No spoiler for RE4 remake.

This haunted me for a bit and I just couldn't help it. Please reblog and leave feedback as I really appreciate it! Thank you!

Taglist: @multi-fandom-imagine, @tosuckmyweenis, @narcoticgunnsinlove, @luis-serras-little-slut, @fullmoonwolfer1

Please enjoy.

[Name] watched the sun slowly creep down towards the horizon, throwing out a vast of deeper, warmer colours before falling to cooler, darker colours of night. Luis was cutting it close, but she knew he wasn't completely reckless.

She had everything set up and ready, ensuring there was enough food for both of them, but mostly for him. The windows were covered by thick curtains and everything silver had been put away. This situation had become part of their normal routine now, something they prepared for every month, and something she had accepted of him.

Going as far as to have their home off away from the city, sitting more on the outskirts towards the fields and woods rather than the bustling streets. Luis didn't seem to mind, in fact, he liked the peace in the fields, giving him a place to run if he wanted to.

The sound of the front door opening caught her attention, pulling her from her thoughts as she set her cup down and moved over. Luis leaned against the door, his back to her as his shoulder heaved as he panted. Slowly, she approached, knowing that this time range can be difficult for him.

"Luis?" Her voice was soft and quiet, her hand gently resting on his shoulder, drawing his attention. Beads of sweat collected on his brow, his eyes holding a golden hue to them. The first sign. Carefully taking his hand, she guided him up towards the bedroom, setting him down on the bed. Offering a comfortable space did help somewhat for him.

"Mierda, it hurts." He moaned out, leaning back onto the bed. His dark hair sprawling out a bit, strands clinging to is forehead. His chest rising and falling quickly, small pained whines leaving his lips. [Name] held his hand, kissing the back of it a little, showing him that she was there.

"It's okay, love. You're okay." Getting up, she let go of his hand to go and fetch him some water. Grabbing a large glass, she filled it from the tap before hearing a loud thud from the bedroom and Luis cursing in both his native language and English. The transformation itself was something she was still getting accustom to.

The sounds made her shiver with discomfort. Bones snapping and reforming, developing into something more animalistic. Yet she knew that, regardless of his form, he was still her Luis. Once the sounds fell silent, she took a breath and entered the bedroom.

Laying on the floor beside the bed, a large, dark-furred creature sat. Holding the remains of his favourite jacket, Luis gave a loud, annoyed huff, his pointed ears flattening down the sides of his head.

"Again?! I just bought this one!" While his voice was slightly hoarse, it was unmistakably his voice. A small tugged her lips at the sight of Luis huffing like a little puppy.

"I'll buy you the next one, darling. But maybe don't wear your favourite clothes when you know you're going to turn?" She walked over to him, handing Luis the glass of water, which he happily took and chugged greedily. His large, fluffy tail wagging quickly. [Name] couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

She knew of werewolves, everyone did, and the belief they were these monstrous beasts that were mindless killing machines. But looking at Luis, she was more inclined to believe they were practically oversized dogs. At least, Luis was. She tidied up the torn clothes and tossed them in the bin then helped Luis to his feet, the man now a fair bit taller than before.

The two made their way downstairs before Luis moved over to the couch, curling up on it and looked over at her, motioning her to sit. She walked over and sat down, letting Luis curl around her, his arms wrapping around her waist and nuzzling against her, his tail still wagging.

A thought came to mind as she rose her hand up, brushing her fingers through his dark fur, earning a delighted hum from Luis before she began to scratch just behind his pointed ear, around the base of it. Soft rumbles radiated from Luis' chest, his ears flattening as his eyes closed, leaning into her touch.

"Oh si. That's nice." At this, she scratched a bit harder, earning more pleased rumbles from the wolf. Shifting on the couch, [Name] moved so she was on her knees beside the couch while Luis flopped onto his back, his eyes closed in bliss as she continued to scratch along his body, moving from his head to his neck, then down to his chest.

"Look at you, such a little puppy." She smiled, kissing his head before playfully bopping his damn nose. Luis turned to her, his once honey-brown eyes now glowing a warm golden colour.

"I love you." Luis leaned close, licking her face. The texture of his tongue was a little rough but it wasn't awful. Smiling, [Name] rests her head onto his fluffy chest, to which he grabs her and lifts her up so she can lay on him properly. Luis nuzzles her, releasing a deep sigh as he held onto her. He would never not be grateful for her, of how she accepted him for what he was. And he would make sure nothing ever happened to her.

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Songbird

Papa Emeritus III (Terzo) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, Dom!Terzo, jealousy, facefucking, hair pulling, tiny tiny bit of angst at the end

No real plot, Terzo walks in on Reader singing one of Secondo's songs and he must remind her who she belongs to.

Word Count: 2.0k

Terzo strolls back to his chambers, sneaking away early from a meeting; surely, you weren't there anymore, but a man could hope. You were becoming more than the usual plaything in his eyes. Maybe he would just be forced to summon you out of whatever task you were in the middle of...

His scheming comes to a halt when he presses his ear to the door, listening to the beautiful lilt of your voice.

"...progeny of beast of woe 🎶

And I am the son who comes into the daughters of men 🎵

Destroying all and make them want it again..."

Without a sound, he sneaks in and spots you dusting some of his things on the fireplace mantle. He quickly glues himself to you with hands on your hips and a kiss to the nape of your neck.

"AH!!" The duster you'd had in your hand falls to the floor; luckily it hadn't been one of his pictures or a vase. "Terzo! You scared me..." your protest isn't very strong as you melt back into the feeling of him; his cologne quiet strong today.

"What have I told you about cleaning, gattina?" he mumbles into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly with his fingertips digging into you a little bit.

"Well... I know it's not my job, but I feel like I should leave your place better than I found it," you explain.

"Sì, and you always do. You put your Papa in an exceptional mood every time you visit," he compliments you.

It's absolutely intoxicating getting showered in affection by this man. His hands know just where to touch to get the reaction he wants from you. His lips press the softest kisses to your temple, your cheek, your neck, turning you to putty in his hands. And again... the cologne. You can always tell when he's nearby, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter madly.

Softly Terzo asks, "So you like mio fratello's songs more than mine? You don't like my album, sì?"

"Hmm?" you're pulled from your trance, "No, Terzo, that song was just stuck in my head!"

"Mio fratello was stuck in your head?"

"No-"

"That simply won't do, Sorella," he clicks his tongue at you, "we will have to change this. I should be the only Papa in your pretty little head..." He spins you around to face him, putting his hands firmly on your hips again, "I'll make my songbird sing for me and me alone."

It was a promise that sent heat straight to your core as his scowling eyes bore into you. Biting your lip as you stare up at him, you fight back a whimper at the way his demeanor has affected you.

"Not so noisy, now, eh, little songbird?" He brushes his gloved knuckles across your soft cheek. "However fair and pure... 🎶 You crave the wand," he sings before his lips tug into a devious grin.

"Papa," you whisper, leaning your head back to kiss him.

"Ah, ah, ah..." he stops you with a thumb pressed tight against your bottom lip. "We'll have to put that mouth of yours to good use before I should even think of forgiving you."

With that, your knees find the floor and your gentle hands caress his thighs through his nice black dress pants.

"Mmm... So eager to please, so responsive to her Papa..." Terzo lifts your chin to look up at him as he unbuttons his trousers.

Nuzzling against the fabric at his crotch, you beat him to the zipper, pulling it down with your teeth. He lets out a groan of anticipation at that move, his cock, already heavy with lust, falling from behind the cloth. Eager to please, just as he said, you don't keep him waiting as you leave a slow trail of open mouthed kisses from the base of his shaft all the way to the tip.

Lapping at the slit, you look up at him, already losing his composure as he takes off his gloves to tangle those digits in your hair. He lets out another groan, sounding more like a growl as you take his length in your mouth, working at a relaxed pace, but making sure to flatten your tongue against the underside just the way he likes.

"S-sì, ...sss much better use of your mouth than- than for singing Secondo's s-songs," he stutters out, eyes screwed shut. Terzo would never admit it, but he's capable of being turned into putty in the palm of someone's hand too.

When you hollow out your cheeks, putting that exquisite pressure around his favorite appendage, he can't help but buck his hips, lunging forward to brace himself with one hand against the mantle behind you. Relaxing your throat to prepare for the onslaught, you take it well when he bucks again, one hand still firmly planted in your hair to keep you in place.

It takes some effort not to gag the first couple of times he hits the back of your throat, but you dig your nails into his thighs and let him have his way with you. When your nose tickles against his well groomed pelvis, your lover lets out a loud, "Ah! Sorella... Satanas, la mia dea lasciva..." as he continues to fuck into your face.

Letting out something like a whine around his length, Terzo recognizes your need for him, and he did promise to make you sing after all...

Albeit reluctant to pull out of your sinfully skilled mouth, he does, and he immediately pulls you up from your spot on the floor, helping you right yourself and swiping the tears from your cheeks. "You are okay, bella mia?" He's such a gentleman to check on you.

Your heart swells a little as you place your hand over his that cups your cheek; you give a small nod and he gives you a quick peck before it's back on again. With some force, he pulls you across the living room, sitting you on the arm of the chair he likes to read in. Gripping the skirt of your habit, he pulls it up and over your head, revealing nothing underneath.

"Mmm, Sorella..." He looks you over like a meal he's about to devour, as he kicks off his own pants and works on the buttons of his shirt. "You should dress like this always," he gives you a wink.

Letting out a giggle, you softly reply, "I didn't have any clean undies here."

"We'll have to change that," he smiles warmly, disposing of the last articles of his outfit, "although you won't need them when I'm around." His hands slip into place on your sides, and it feels electric feeling his skin on yours. Almost carefully, he kisses you, tasting traces of himself on your tongue. He moves so delicately, ghosting over your breasts, pinching at your nipples, it drives you crazy.

You're well aware of what he's capable of and you want more. Hooking a leg around his, you try to pull him closer to you, and he obliges, but not without breaking your kiss. Desperately, you wrap your arms around his neck, fingertips tracing over the lovebites left from the night before. "Please, Papa," you beg.

He chuckles darkly and places a hand on the top of your thigh. "I'm not quite sure you've learned your lesson, mia cattiva ragazza..." That hand moves to find your core, one finger starting to circle your bud. "You're not still thinking of Papa Secondo, are you, cara mia?"

"No, Papa. I wasn't- hnghhh..." you breathe out, "I promise, I wasn't thinking of anyone but you!"

"Then why would you sing for him," he slips two fingers past your folds up into your sweet spot, "and not for me?"

Letting out a gasp, you grip onto his shoulders as he curls his digits over and over again. "I-I wasn't, Papa... Please..."

"Ahhh, but you were-"

"Papa," you say with some urgency, "Terzo, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦. Make me sing- Make me 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 for you, just- please."

He straightens up, fingers slipping out of you. "Only for me, sì?" he asks, popping the slicked up fingers into his mouth.

"Only you, Papa," you look up at him, both sets of eyes equally blown wide with lust, and you practically shaking with need.

"Show me, then, my songbird," he commands, pulling you up off the chair and flipping you around; in an instant, he's behind you, propping your knee up on the arm of the chair and slicking himself up in your folds. Instinctively, you arch your back and brace your hands on the back of the piece of furniture.

He enters you more gingerly than he'd been with your face, but it still leaves you whining and squirming back on him for more. Receiving a small pop on the ass, you let out a squeak, before Terzo grabs your hips and sets a leisurely pace. "Mm, mm- Papa," you moan for him, feeling that delightful stretch.

"Ah, tesoro, sì, sing for me," a smile spreads across Terzo's face as he throws his head back, fucking into you in earnest, "Let everyone know how good your Papa feels inside you!"

Feeling cheeky, and perhaps a glutton for punishment, you throw a look over your shoulder at the antipope, "Give me something to sing about then, Papa."

Terzo's usual scowl returns to his face, this time with a fire in his eyes. You're met with a harsh 𝘚𝘔𝘈𝘊𝘒! to the ass followed by the sound of skin slapping skin as he moves harder in and out of you. His fingers wrap around your hair, ponytailing it and wrapping it around his wrist. With a rough tug, he forces you upright until your head nearly rests on his shoulder. "Bold of you to test your Papa while il mio cazzo stuffs your tight cunt full," he growls in your ear. With the change in angle, he rams into your sweet spot with ease, hips snapping at a dangerous tempo.

You try to stifle the high-pitched whine that threatens to spill from you, but your lover takes you by the jaw, forcing your mouth open and stealing your noises of pleasure from you. And he gets exactly what he wants as your moans pour out of you, sounding more and more like screams with every thrust.

As his hand slides down the front of your stomach to find your core, he whispers softly in your ear, a sharp contrast to your loud cries, "Sì, sì, little songbird, you always give your Papa what he wants, even if I must take it from you." His hips stutter as his middle finger starts to circle your clit. "Give your Papa just a little bit more, amore... Vieni per me, per favore. Vieni per me..."

And who are you to deny him? A few more flicks of his wrist and you're howling his name so loud that you just 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 your lover is grinning at the thought of his brother hearing you in the next suite.

Riding you through your orgasm, he chases his own release; he'd staved himself off just to hear how helpless you could become by his hand. You gave yourself over to him like no other ever had, and it makes him want to do the same to you. Terzo presses his body firmly to yours, hips slowing to shallow thrusts as he spills within you. Eyes shut tight, he nuzzles into your shoulder, biting down and grunting through the climax.

Once out of the haze of pleasure, attentively, he checks on you, making sure he hadn't been too rough, too domineering, too careless with your precious body.

"I don't think you're capable of being careless with your lover, Terzo," you giggle, now sitting on his lap in the chair he'd just fucked you against.

"Sì, but one can never be too sure, vero?" He cups your cheek, giving you a soft peck on the opposite side.

"Dolce ragazzo, I never feel more taken care of than when I'm in your arms," you press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

While your aftercare came in the form of shoulder rubs and kisses, his comes in the form of reminding him that he isn't the monster he sees himself as. Yet another type of song he longed to hear from you, always.

[necros-writing-stuff]

I'm sick and could use some fluff, sooo... Whichever on you're feeling, Eden or Darius. They come home early and catch their s/o working on a special surprise for them. Maybe an extra special meal, or a gift. They don't strike me as guys who get thoughtful gifts often.

I'm going with Eden because I'm in my forest husband mood today.

Warning - I go into describing Eden hunting and butchering a boar. But hey, it's Eden, it's the reality of what he does. And it's Eden POV, so some angst when it comes to his self image. But it's the angst before the fluff.

It had been a labour intensive day for the hunter. He'd had to spend more time than usual looking after his crop - some parasites had begun to nibble at the carrots - so he'd had to remove them before they could spread.

Then when he'd gone out to hunt he'd come across a rather territorial male boar in rut. Breeding season, his least favourite time of year. The damned beast had almost gored him, but he'd luckily gotten off a shot just in time.

His heart had dropped to his stomach as the hog had continued on its path before stumbling and falling, but then relief had flooded his veins instead. That was a lot of meat. It would be a while before he'd have to hunt again.

The downside, of course, was carrying the damn thing back home. And butchering the meat so that it wouldn't leak literal shit on the good stuff in transport left him open to wolves and bears. He'd managed to bag up the insides and haul the rest without an attack, though he'd been looking over his shoulder the entire time.

When he'd made it back to his familiar clearing, he'd been covered in sweat, his hands still stained with the blood of the boar despite him having rubbed them in the river for a few minutes. Not that it mattered, he'd only get more on him when he finished the preparation. A hot bath would be ready after. You always took care of that.

He vaguely remembers having smelt something sweet in the air, but had disregarded it as another baking experiment of yours. You'd been on a kick with it lately: cookies and cakes and pastries. He'd cherished every one of them.

The hide would have to be rid of hair - boars are too coarse to use for bedding or clothes. The dried hide could be sold to tanners to make leather though, and pay for his next supply run. Even if he dreaded going to that damned market in town.

Anxiety built the more he got in his head about the market. He didn't want to make you go, he'd seen enough people try to pay through illicit means and he didn't want to subject you to those perverts. At least they left him alone now, with his ugly damn face and ogre-like body.

God, it was a wonder you touched him. Someone as beautiful as yourself, so kind and generous, stuck with him. A man not much different than the beasts he shared the forest with. You even had the kindness - or perhaps, pity - to look at him as though you did like how he looked. Kissing his scars, playing with his hair that he doesn't take care of like he should.

Truly an impressive act you put on. Not that he blames you. The alternative is to tell the truth about his hideaousness and be stuck with him being more miserable than usual.

Eden doesn't notice when you approach, some lunch ready for him. When your gentle hand brushes his shoulder he almost jumps, hand grasping his butchering knife tighter until it registers that its just his darling spouse.

"Some roasted chestnuts, Love, we're running low on fruit again."

And there it is, that damned almost angelic smile and look of love in your eyes.

"I'll see what I can find next time I'm out," he grumbles.

He tries to hide the sour mood he's in, kissing your forehead before grabbing a rag and moving to the washing basin he keeps to clean up. With soap this time.

You don't comment on it, instead taking the meat he'd already cut up to cure in salt, jar, or smoke for storage. He didn't even need to ask you. He never does, you just know what needs done and when.

And the chestnuts are great. Everything about you and everything you do is just amazing. Even on your off days when you crawl into his lap and cry, you're just perfect. And he's... Competent, he guesses.

All of his muscles ache by the time he's done with the boar, you fetching the cuts in between filling up pails of water for the bath. He still has to chop some more firewood, though, and he forces himself to do enough to last three days so he can recover. Some of that salve you make will help with the aches and pains. Again, you being perfect.

The hunter is exhausted when he stumbles into the cabin, but not so much so that he doesn't notice that food is already being prepared. You've cut steaks from the back meat of the boar and they're in a pot, the fragrances delicious as they slowly cook. He can even scent the herbs you rub the cuts with.

You wait for him in the bath, shuffling forward so he can join and nestling close when he's situated. Those wonderful hands waste no time in rubbing his skin clean, massaging his scalp and thumbing over the callouses on his hands.

He's so tired, ready to just fall asleep as you pamper him, but it wouldn't be fair. You deserve more. So he returns the favour with heavy eyelids, and joins you as you leave the tub instead of staying in longer as he usually does.

"I'll drain it," he yawns after drying and putting on his evening wear. "You cooked dinner when I was meant to, I'll drain it."

He really should get around to putting in some pipes just to make draining the tub easier instead of having the push it to the porch and tip the damn thing. Eventually he'll get to it.

Dinner is plated when he comes back in, you waiting for him to sit so you can climb in his lap and the two of you can take turns taking bites. Sure, you could just get two plates. But then he'd miss out on this intimacy. And he needs this. He needs to hold you close. You had made some banana bread to eat after.

Your baking and cooking almost made the trips to town worth it for the extra ingredients.

"I've got the dishes."

You take them as he moves to his chair in front of the fire, the hunter sighing deeply as he sinks down into the chair and stares into the flames. He almost lets his eyes rest when something catches his attention, the fire's light reflecting off of it beneath a drawer in the corner of his eye.

Eden makes his way over to it, a piece of metal sticking out from under the drawer. He doesn't remember putting anything beneath there.

He pulls it out and only faces more confusion. It's a gun strap - one he doesn't remember making himself - the metal being clasps to secure it. Along the leather is an intricate embroiderd pattern only half done. Leaves and flowers, painstakingly threaded through the leather. A very tough job.

"Shit! You weren't meant to see that yet!" You call out from the kitchen area, obviously alarmed.

"... you've been making this for me?" Eden clears his throat, self-conscious about how high his voice was. Like a child.

"Yeah, it's been taking forever but I really wanted to do something special as a surprise since we've almost been together for a year now. You came home earlier than I thought you would have, so I must have messed up hiding it in a panic."

He doesn't like how sad you sound that your gift was found this early. His cheeks heat up, he can't look at you. Instead, he focuses on the foliage on the holster.

"They're, ah. They're all the herbs and flowers I put on your favourite meal. Sort of like a good luck charm that you'll get a good deer for it, I guess?"

New warmth blooms in his chest, his thumbs stroking each plant with reverence. When was the last time he had received a gift? He couldn't even remember. Especially not one this thoughtful.

"You don't like it, do you? I'm sorry, it was stupid, I'll-"

His stupid grumpy face making you sad again. As always.

Eden holds it away from you as you come to take it away, instead dipping his head down and kissing you deeply. You melt into his kiss, hands resting on his chest and body pressing against his as his free hand circles your waist.

"I love it," he mutters against your lips, "has it really almost been a year already?"

Your gorgeous laughter returns. "Time flies, huh?"

And yet it also feels like you've never not been here.

"You want me to finish it for you?"

"Please," he almost sounds like he's begging. He doesn't quite mind this time.

Your nose scrunches up in an adorable way. "Yeah your old ones starting to grow mold."

"It's not mold."

You silence him with another sweet kiss. It's really not mold though, just some really bad freying. He'd always taken care of his things until they fell apart.

"I don't know what to get you. I'm not the best at giving gifts," he sighs as he guides you both to the chair, once again settling into a comfortable embrace once you'd fetched your tools.

Your head cocks as you consider your answer, the light from the fire illuminating your face and somehow just highlighting every feature he loves.

"Oh I have everything I need already," you smile as you use wax to place a guide for the thread. "I have a comfy home away from all of the bullshit, a warm bed at night, great fresh food to eat, brilliant sex, and on top of it all the one who I do the brilliant sex with is the hottest piece of ass there is."

Well now he's back to blushing. Though happily, for an entirely different reason.

"And you better not argue about that mister."

"If you insist," he pushes back. He can't help it, really. It sounds so genuine but. How? How can you think that?

"I do insist," you shoot back, tone deadly serious as you look him in the eye.

And for the first time he can remember, he believes you.

[geddy-leesbian]

start of my FE Serrennedy AU :3

Goddess, he was so stupid. What was he thinking, chasing a bandit down through a hole in a wall and then down a mysterious tunnel all by himself?

In his defense, what he did had made sense in the moment. If he'd stopped to call for the knights, the bandit would have slipped away. And it was just one thief! Leon would have easily struck him down in a one-on-one. No, the problem was that as soon as the tunnel opened up into a large open cavern, there was a demonic beast. Leon was not ready for that. Why would he have been? He's right under the church! Surely there should be some kind of magical protection keeping these nightmarish monsters away from the monastery. 

Or not. Definitely not, because he definitely did get his ass handed to him by a gigantic worm. He did put up a pretty valiant fight, giving the creature at least one gash in exchange for each bruise and bite wound it dealt to him. It didn't even kill him, it just left of its own accord after one well-timed thrash of its tail left Leon lying on his back with the wind knocked out of him. It could have been one hell of a story– the underdog Leon fighting a demonic beast all by himself and escaping with his life! And it would have been, if he wasn't down in some fucking cavern where no one would ever look for him. 

But he is. And a bite wound is bleeding heavily. He feels dizzy when he tries to get up. He'd survive this if he was anywhere else, with a light magic user able to heal him, or even just someone more run of the mill with a cloth to slow the bleeding and keep him stable until an actual doctor could get to him. 

All alone, goddess knows where, he just lies there and tries not to think about how much everything hurts and how cold he is until he finally slips out of consciousness. 

-

Somehow he wakes up. He's alive? There's still some pain, but he feels it fading, the hurt being replaced by the pleasant warmth of healing white magic. Someone else must have seen him enter the tunnel and got help before it was too late.

“Thanks…” Leon manages to open his eyes, and is shocked to see a tan stranger kneeling above him, mending his wounds with white magic. A stranger. Not a knight, not one of his magically gifted classmates. He panics and his right hand gropes at the… ground? Floor? trying to find his sword. “Who the hell are you?”

“I could say the same to you. Barging into someone else's home, swinging your sword around like you own the place… Bit rude, no? Tell me your name first, intruder, then maybe I'll tell you mine,” The stranger's face twists into a mischievous smile. “One of mine, at least.”

“If I'm a rude intruder, why are you healing me?” Leon gives up on trying to get his sword, it's not like this is a fight he could ever win. He doesn't even know where he is. Just that he's underground and can hear running water. “Could've left me to rot or finished the job yourself if you were impatient.”

“Because you don't seem like an intruder who came here with the intention of causing trouble for the inhabitants of Abyss. You seem like a garden variety idiot, not the type I kill if I can help it. And! Your uniform, you're a student at the Officers Academy. I might get myself a pretty penny for bringing back one of their precious students in one piece.”

“Fine. I'm Leon. Who are you and where am I?”

“Oh. Oh! I know you! Of you, at least. I'm Luis. You're Lord Marvin's adopted kid, right?”

“Yeah,” Leon stares at Luis's handsome face for a minute, until something clicks into place. “I think I saw you once. You're Spencer's adopted son, right? What are you doing down some horrible hole, Spencer must be worried sick about you! We should go back to the surface and get you home, with two of us we'll be fine even if we run into monsters.”

“Home? Spencer? I'd rather die than go back to him. This is my home. It's not a hole, and it's not horrible. This is Abyss. A hidden little city beneath the monastery, a refuge for those who can't live on the surface. Surely you've heard rumors? Maybe heard about the savage mockingbird, the handsome leader and protector of Abyss?”

“Uh, that does ring a bell. Isn't he like, a hardened criminal? Gang leader that's murdered a whole lot of people?”

“I suppose that isn't incorrect, I have done that.”

“You?! How did you go from a noble house, a student at the academy with a great future, to this?” Leon looks at Luis, completely appalled. “A criminal hanging out in a den of other criminals, even leading them.”

“It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you someday. But for now, you feel like you can walk?” Despite Luis being prolific enough as a cruel murderer to have earned a reputation and a nickname, he helps Leon to his feet with all the gentleness and care of the monastery's kindest priests. When he looks down at himself, he sees the lighter wounds that weren't worth healing magically were still expertly bandaged. “We should get you back up to the surface before anyone notices you've been gone, I'm sure you'd be in a lot of trouble for sneaking off to explore–”

“I wasn't exploring!” Leon interjects. “I was chasing a thief. He got away when the monster attacked.”

“Ah, one of my lackeys. Still, even with your noble intentions I get the feeling your activities would earn you one hell of a lecture for doing something so reckless. I suggest you sneak back into your bed, hide your injuries, in the morning say you're tired because you didn't sleep well, so no one has to know what you were up to.”

“Doesn't that defeat the purpose of you saving me? If you want your reward, you'll have to tell someone about it.”

“Forget the reward. This is just… Some charity work.”

[deeptrashwitch]

Plans

*Alicia, Kanoa, Arjun (@welldonekhushi OC) and Tiala (@islandtarochips OC) are convinced (dragged) by Lily to accompany her to watch movies during a slow day*

Aly (@alypink OC): Sorry guys, probably you were busy *smiles with some shame*

Alicia: No worries, Black Tomb was quiet today *laughs* also, movies are movies, it's fine

Kanoa: True, and Alana gave us some days! *with Lily over his shoulders, moving in circles* we're happy to be here

Tiala: Careful, Noa *hisses* Lily isn't well grabbed

Kanoa: Sorry

Arjun: Toa is right, I have no problem...and it's not like my people will do anything stupid in just one day *nods*

Aly: If you say so... *sighs* anyway, we're going to a little place that shows Disney movies, Dreamworks movies and all of that

Lily: Ohh mommy! Can I have my dress? Can I?

Aly: Your princess dress?

Lily: YES!

Aly: ...Yeah, I guess you can

Arjun: We'll wait here, go and change

*at the movies place*

Lily: *dressed as Belle* Ohh, can we go to see the Beauty and the Beast?

Aly: You've watched it a hundred times *chuckles* what if we watch another?

Lily: Mmm *looks around* oh! Can we go to that one?! Please?! *point to the Moana poster*

Aly: *looks at everyone*

Tiala/Kanoa/Alicia/Arjun: *nods*

Aly: Alright, Moana will be *smiles* I'll go for the food, so stay near here, 'kay?

Lily: Yes mom!

*while Aly goes for the food, Lily ask everyone if she could go to play for a while, to which everyone accepted. During some minutes everything goes well, until a kid starts mocking Lily to the point she starts crying*

Lily: *walks towards Arjun, hiccuping and pulling his clothes a bit*

Arjun: Lily? What's wrong? *lifts her a bit worried*

Lily: Where's mom? *hiccuping*

Arjun: Buying the food. Can you tell us what happened?

Lily: *points to the kid* They told me rude things! A-and it made me feel bad! And they don't said sorry!

Kanoa: Here, everything is okay, sweetie *grabs her while nodding to Arjun* don't listen to that kid

Alicia: There, the kid with red shirt *makes a sign towards the kid* he doesn't seem to be near their mother

Tiala: Huh, wrong. That's the mother *points at a woman that has an arrogant smile*

Arjun: *glares at the mother with disgust*

*After some awkward minutes, the mother looked why someone was glaring at her, just to feel a chill when she noticed the three brick walls of people glaring at her. By the minutes she got nervous and at the end, she dragged her kid to apologize, all under the cold stare of the four spec ops officers*

Arjun: *watching them leave* ...Whatever *gives Lily a candy* here, eat this

Alicia: You have candies on your pockets? *raising an eyebrow*

Arjun: Sometimes

Alicia: Can I have one?

Arjun: Ujum *gives her one*

Alicia: Thanks!

Tiala: Didn't know you have a sweet tooth *smiles*

Alicia: Not quite, but I like to eat it sometimes

Kanoa: Should we look for Aly? *with Lily on his arms*

Tiala: I can go for her *pointing to the food bar* maybe she'll also need help with the food

Kanoa: Lily, do you wanna go and watch the movie yet?

Lily: *nods*

Kanoa: Alright then, let's go for your mom and let's watch the movie!

*When they find Aly*

Aly: They did what?! *offended* where are them?!

Alicia: Easy mama bear, easy *puts her hands over Aly's shoulders* we took care of everything, it's fine now

Aly: *mumbles furiously*

Tiala: Let's just go and watch the movie, 'kay? Lily is already upset, let's cheer her up

Aly: Okay *sighs* let's go

*They went to watch the movie, and after the film they walked outside with Tiala humming with a little smile. All while Kanoa plays with Lily, again over his shoulders*

Aly: Thanks for today, guys *smiling*

Arjun: It's fine

Alicia: *nods, eating her popcorn*

Arjun: You still have popcorn?

Alicia: *nods* ... *offers him a bit*

Arjun: No thank you

Kanoa: Ohh! I want some!

Lily: Me too! Me too! *laughing*

[tgrailwar-zero]

Ah yeah okay, sorry Thrud. We really bit off more than we could chew then re the summoning thing and didn’t mean for it to turn out that way.. We’re really sorry about that and swear that we won’t do it again.. We’ll go with you to see Keeper though

THRUD: "I've contacted the other Valkyrie. Just behave, and it should be over shortly."

ALTER-EGO: "Woah... look at the sky!"

Before you knew it, the sky went dark with figures as warriors blanketed the sky. The Valkyrie moved like a well-oiled machine. You saw THRUD take point, giving orders and the others following to the letter. They really were all identical- maybe some differences in hair or clothes, but outside of that they were

THRUD: "Set up the runes. Quickly."

One of the Valkyrie approached her, eyes narrowed.

BROWN-HAIRED VALKYRIE: "So, it's true? I bet it was that Sigurd's fault that Brynhildr didn't tell us. He's always been a bad influence on Elder Sister."

THRUD: "Watch your tone, Valkyrie Geirskögul. You're letting your individual opinions leak out."

GEIRSKÖGUL: "…Oh, please. As if that's just my--"

THRUD: "Irs. Please."

Rather than a glare, THRUD simply shook her head with a sigh, which seemed to give the brown-haired Valkyrie pause.

GEIRSKÖGUL: "…Yes, Sister Thrud. I apologize. I was out of line."

You watched as the brown-haired Valkyrie wandered off, as another Valkyrie approached.

THRUD: "…Yes, Rindr?"

RINDR: "That slimy, yet handsome-looking guy…"

She subtly gestured to RULER.

RINDR: "…Should we put two Valkyrie on him? I don't think one will be enough."

THRUD: "...If you say so, then it seems logical. Have Hildr lead the guard command on the Alter-Ego. Have at least five on the giantess at all times. Put Ölrún on the Sun Goddess. Put Geirskögul on the Ruler, she can handle him- have Ortlinde run backup. I'll see to 'Adamant'."

RINDR: "Yes, ma'am!"

After some time, the runes that the Valkyrie flared to life, and you felt an astounding heavy pressure on your body. After that, it became relatively easy for them to guide you where you wanted. Even the ALTER-EGO struggled to move against it- this seemed like something they did rather often, considering how quickly everything had gotten set up.

You were guided to a facility that seemed in a 'neutral' territory, between designated zones. A few doors, dark corridors, and you were led to a room that didn't seem… terrible. It didn't entirely feel like a cell. You were left alone for a little bit, perhaps to get adjusted.

A few minutes passed, before the door opened and the blonde Valkyrie you saw earlier, 'Rindr', stepped inside. She closed the door behind her, before standing in front of it, taking a deep breath before speaking.

RINDR: "Good evening, my designated name is Rindr. You're not uncomfortable, are you?"

She seemed nice. Well, she was holding a gun, but outside of that she had a pretty comforting presence.

RINDR: "Sister Thrud may have been stern, but this is all just precaution. Looking at the current facts, if you are responsible for the Beast, you also were the one that destroyed it. You're just being detained, but you should be let go quickly if there isn't anything else that pops up. We're doing things a bit out of order because of that Sigur-- I mean, as there were apparently some communication issues from Lord Sigurd regarding the Beast situation."

RINDR: "Let's see… the Keeper is holding council with the other Lair Servants, and you will be called shortly. This was rather sudden, however."

RINDR: "Just some ground rules. Your magecraft has been sealed by our runes, and it'll be nicer for everyone if we're all patient and relaxed. You can speak freely, of course. I'm not here to interrogate or threaten, I'm just a guard."

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Michael & Peter

New resources?

The next morning. And it starts early, at least for Michael. Peter realized this when he woke up and his friend was no longer lying next to him in the tent. He saw that he had probably put his clothes on too. "Micha? Where are you?". Instead of an answer, he only heard a distant "Ouch, damn!".

Peter followed the noises he heard. Quick footsteps and a thud on the floor every time. Until he saw what was actually going on. It was Michael trying to run after a rabbit. And every time, just before he could grab it, the animal jumped away and he fell to the ground again. A funny scene that was not without its share of laughter.

Michael was already in a bit of a bad mood after chasing the hare. "You think that's really funny, don't you?" . Peter had to hold his stomach with laughter… "Oh man, you always let the little beast trick you, don't you? … You won't get him. He's too fast even for me"/ . Michael narrowed his eyes. "I'll get him yet!"…

"I really don't want to take away your motivation, but the liitle guy is still young and really fast, I've seen you fall three times now, do you really want to try again?". Michael had to admit that his friend was right. And his face hurt from hitting the ground. "I just wanted some meat again…"/ "I know, Micha. We'll get there one day, eh? But certainly not a rabbit". Michael gave up and stood up. And, of course, his pride was a little hurt. He would have loved to catch that rabbit.

When he was standing again, Peter went to him. "Hnhn, thanks for those great pictures in the morning, I haven't laughed like that for a long time"/ "but now my pride is shot. I really wanted to catch him and what does he do? Eat his clover as if nothing had happened"/ "hey, don't get angry any more, okay? And sorry I had laughed, it just was this sight…"/ "just don't talk about it anymore, okay?".

Yes, Michael was really annoyed that he couldn't catch the rabbit. And Peter apologized again in his own way. And teased him a little…. “If it hadn't been for that sleeping bag, I would have laid down with you“/”Oh… Really?” Michael had to smile a little. “And… then?”.

Peter grinned a little. "Well, what do you think I would have done?"/ "Well... Maybe hugged me?" The grin turned into a warm smile again. "mhm... That might sound a bit cheesy, but I like looking at your face." Michael looked at him skeptically but amused. "You're right, that's really cheesy, but... Really, at my face? I always thought boys were more into butts"/ "Do you like mine?"/ "Oh man,... hnhn"/ "What, just a question."

Michael looked away a little embarrassed and there wasn't much for him to think about. "I'm not interested in your butt at the moment..."/ "ah, what then?"/ "You were one of the first of us boys to go through voice break... I thought that was kind of great... I like your voice"/ "I understand. At least you like it, I don't like it." Peter raised his hand and stroked Michael's face with his thumb. But just as he was about to kiss him, "Wait... Do you hear that?"/ "What?"/ "Back there, there's something there."

Michael released himself from Peter's embrace and went to investigate the noise. It was something that hadn't been heard here before, but it wasn't unfamiliar. After just a few steps, you could see what was making this typical noise in the fog. “Moo!"/ ‘I can't believe it… Cows?’.

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

End of this Part

@greenplumbboblover ☺😊

And a big thank you to @danjaley for the liberated cows!^^

[phierie]

Been thinking about bullet train and it's costume design (and why it's so good) for a while now so some thoughts about lemon + tangerine and their clothes I guess. this got a bit long so i'll put it under a cut

so I think the reason Tangerine's outfit works so well is it tells us so much not only about who he is but who he WANTS to be, it instantly evokes that kinda 80s gangster east end vibe, but the little details like the banker collar show that it's more the image he's trying maintain than it is who he actually is. I've thought a lot about that quote from the costume designer Sarah Evelyn about how the suit is to "contain the beast", and how he loses that veneer as the film goes on and his outfit gets more ruffled and, literally starts coming apart as the job goes wrong (even starting as early on as his top button being undone after he & lemon realise they've lost the case), his outward appearance starting to match his actual personality

in comparison, at first glance I didn't think Lemon's outfit was telling us as much about his characterisation, or his relationship to his image + clothes (like, he's not in a suit like tangerine is, so does he just not care as much about what he wears like tangerine does?)

but I've been thinking about it a lot while picking outfits for him (for a Lemon & Tangerine fashion zine project I'm working on, as it goes) and I don't think that's the case - his outfit is neat and well put together too! he literally wants people to see the tie he picked out for his outfit even if it comes across dodgy as hell with the blood on his shirt!! he has a fairly eclectic/unconventional style, what with the double denim and the suspenders, his accessories are practical instead of showy (the smartwatch he wears vs tangerine's rolex), and I think what that shows is that he's completely comfortable with his look, and has a kind of confidence in himself that tangerine Does Not possess. He has no desire to present himself as a Mr Big type character like tangerine, he has nothing to prove to anyone (or himself) like tangerine does

and then I think that confidence is even more interesting when you consider the context, in particular of Lemon as a black man (in this instance in Japan), and growing up in the UK alongside tangerine - does that confidence stem from his personality? or was it something learned? (or, maybe most likely, a bit of both?) and what does it say about tangerine and how he relates to the culture they were raised in that his look is based off the prototypical businessman (of the kind he probably didnt have as a role model in his immediate family/life)? I don't necessarily have the answers nor am I actually smart enough to say anything meaningful about it I just think it's super interesting thinking about these two within the context of the UK esp wrt class issues lol

ANYWAY this got a bit rambly I just love the costume design in bullet train so much!!!! I think it's even more pronounced with how the movie takes place over such a short space + time and everyone only really has one main design, it's almost cartoony/anime-esque (in a good way). everyone has a unique style and the characterisations and designs are so well entwined it makes everyone so memorable in a way i think few action films do. And I love the tiny details you probably won't even notice on a first watch, it just shows how much thought and care went into everything, I admire the costume + hair + makeup departments and what the cast all brought to it so! much!! love the fast train movie so much man