#so if that's not your cup of tea

[bluerose5]

Behind Closed Doors

Word Count: 3,593

Summary: When Anders requested his aid in finding those "outlandish" ingredients of his, Garrett had a feeling that something was off about the situation.

Taking matters into his own hands, he searched for answers.

~~~

Anders was terrible at lying.

From all the years they spent together, Garrett knew that to be true. Perhaps he could bullshit his way around others, but around Garrett? No such luck.

Living together made it even more obvious when one of them was acting differently. Turns out, after spending hours upon hours with each other every day, it became easy to pinpoint when they weren't their usual selves.

Who would've guessed?

So, when Anders asked to speak with him privately at his clinic, Garrett instantly knew that something was up.

Of course, the last thing he expected was for Anders to suggest separating from Justice.

Garrett felt as if he had been punched in the gut, all of the air knocked free from his lungs, leaving him breathless.

For so long, he had thought…

"I thought we were past this," Garrett said, his brow furrowed in concern. "Is there something wrong? Did something happen?"

Anders blinked owlishly at that.

"What do you—" He swallowed thickly, averting his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you suddenly so intent on splitting from Justice?" Garrett asked.

Anders scowled.

"Is it not enough that separating is what I want?" he countered. "Why must there be something wrong to come to that sort of conclusion?"

"Well, you have to admit, this is a bit out of the blue." Garrett pursed his lips. "I thought things were going fine. I thought that we —as in the three of us— were fine." Garrett paused, hesitant to give voice to his doubts. "Is Justice no longer happy? Are you no longer happy?"

“Garrett!” Anders admonished, taken aback.

“What?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t tell you the last time you laughed with me around. Maker’s breath, the last time I actually saw you smile was when we helped Nathaniel out.”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh, yes, it is. Don’t patronize me by insinuating otherwise,” Garrett snapped. The temperature flared around them in response to his ire. “But, by all means, remind me, Anders. When was the last time I said ‘I love you,’ and you didn’t immediately respond by changing the subject?”

Anders opened his mouth, then closed it, deep in thought as he grimaced.

All Garrett got in return was a deafening silence, but it was answer enough for him.

“That’s what I thought,” he sighed. “You know, there was a time when I was the one struggling to say those words back to you.” He shrugged. “Not that it matters. You’ll always have my support. I’ll respect your wishes regardless of what you decide to do with Justice. I just want you to be certain, though. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing either of you.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Tell me. Is Justice on board with this?”

“Justice is on board with whatever helps our cause,” Anders replied. His words were deliberate, careful.

“Of course he is.” As if Garrett expected anything less. “Well, if you are certain, if this is what you truly desire, then you know I’ll help however I can.”

Even if something about the situation didn’t sit right with him.

Anders watched him closely. Eventually, his expression shifted, soft and tender.

“I knew you’d stand behind me in this. Even if…” He trailed off.

How quickly that gentle expression fell.

“What?” Garrett asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Anders glanced away again, thoughtful, then said, “Nothing.”

Yeah, as if Garrett believed that for a single second.

However, before he could press the issue, Anders continued, “I’ve gathered most of what I need, but there are some… outlandish ingredients I was hoping you’d help me collect.”

As he went on to describe where they could find both the drakestone and the sela petrae, Garrett listened and responded accordingly. The drakestone didn’t sound too bad.

The sela petrae, on the other hand…

Let it never be said that Garrett Hawke wasn’t willing to do anything for the man that he loved.

But that didn’t mean that he had to follow him blindly.

If Garrett was going to help, then he wouldn’t do so under false pretenses.

When he told Anders that he needed to meet up with a business partner before they got started, Anders readily agreed, much too preoccupied with his own preparations to even detect the half-truth for what it was.

After they agreed to meet back up at the estate, Garrett departed.

As much as he despised going there, he rushed straight to the Gallows.

For the most part, he kept his head down and his eyes forward when he arrived. He didn’t want to see how many more mages were made Tranquil, compared to his last visit. He didn’t want to focus on the sounds of mages being beaten, day in and day out. He didn’t want to watch as his own people cowered in fear yet stared after him with envy, all because he was free to come and go as he pleased.

He didn’t want to go there, only to leave his fellow mages to the mercy of the templars, over and over again.

But he had a purpose for being there. One that he needed to tend to, and fast.

Ignoring the eyes trained on him, from both mages and templars alike, Garrett approached Solivitus with his best attempt at an easygoing grin.

Not that the herbalist bought the act, his responding smile strained, skin stretched tight around the edges.

“Sol!” Garrett enthused. “Great to see you, as always.”

“Likewise, Champion.” Solivitus stood tall, nodding in greeting. “Care to see what I have in stock today?”

He waved a hand over his collection of potions, spread out on display.

“As a matter of fact,” Garrett said, “I’d love to.” Casting a glance towards his neighboring Tranquil, out selling her goods as well, Garrett kept his voice calm and collected. “Although, you know me. I’m hardly an expert when it comes to this sort of thing, so I might have some questions.”

Solivitus didn’t miss a beat.

“But of course,” he replied, serene as could be, given the circumstances. “Now, let’s see, let’s see…” Trailing off for a moment, he hummed in contemplation, tapping a finger against his chin. “Aha! What about this beauty?”

He picked up a brand new flask, filled to the brim with a glistening, purple liquid. He cradled the container with care, leaning in close to speak to Garrett under his breath, as if reverent, awestruck.

“This is my latest addition,” he explained. “A fine blend of various strains of elfroot and spindleweed, meant to protect an individual from even the most fatal blows. Its regenerative abilities are second to none, capable of bringing one back from the brink of death.”

“Really?” Garrett asked, playing along for the time being. “With all of the unique ingredients you handle, all it takes to make something so powerful is a handful of elfroot and spindleweed, and that’s it?”

Garrett scoffed, incredulous, but leaned in closer, as if to get a better look.

“What?” he mumbled, careful with his words, even when he was certain that no one else could hear. He mimicked his joking tone from earlier, echoed what he said to Anders with a rather specific twist. “No virgins’ blood or eye of newt?” They locked gazes with a pointed look passing between them. “No concentrated manure or tongue of a hanged man?”

Again, Solivitus took the comment in stride, even as his expression lit up with both curiosity and understanding.

“Ha!” Sol laughed, scrunching up his nose at Garrett. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t handle ingredients that are quite that exciting. Although, funny you should mention it. During my early days at the Circle in Ostwick, I did know a rather unusual fellow who was so convinced that you could draw forth power from piles of poo. Bloody idiot, he was.”

“You’re kidding,” Garrett snorted.

Solivitus grumbled, continuing on about this imaginary youngster from his childhood.

“If only. One of his ventures to use the chamberpot was rather… explosive, to say the least.” Solivitus shuddered, his acting as impeccable as always. “Damn fool thought it was a sign from the Maker or some other nonsense, a blessing bestowed upon him so that he could ‘unlock true power.’” Solivitus shook his head in disdain. “He cast a single lightning spell and had us cleaning his waste from the walls for the next week.”

“Ew.” Garrett grimaced, taking note of where Sol added emphasis.

An explosive, huh? Was that what Anders was dealing with?

Given Sol’s extensive knowledge of rare and unusual ingredients, Garrett had no reason to doubt him.

It brought to mind what Anders said earlier.

“No, no ritual. Just mix the ingredients up and… boom. Justice and I are free.”

That sly bastard. He had the gall to fucking joke about it to Garrett's face while lying through his teeth?

Before he could get too upset, Solivitus nudged him gently in the side, a not-so-subtle reminder of where he was.

“Yeah,” Sol agreed, his eyebrow raised in question. “I would not recommend replicating his experiments.”

“No kidding,” Garrett said, now cautious for an entirely different reason. He needed to get home, lest he slip up and risk this somehow getting traced back to Anders. "I think I'll just stick with the elfroot and spindleweed for now."

"A wise choice."

After coin changed hands, Garrett strolled out of the Gallows with his newly-acquired potion, appearing as confident as he was when he first arrived.

Only, once he was out of sight and well beyond those prison walls, he nearly slumped over from exhaustion —physical, mental, emotional.

The walk through Hightown was filled with forced pleasantries and tense smiles as everyone and their mother stopped what they were doing to greet the Champion.

By the time he made it to the estate, Bodahn informed him that Anders was waiting for him in the library.

"Whatever he's working on, he's really focused," Bodahn remarked. "I thought it best not to bother him, so I left him to his own devices."

"Thank you for that," Garrett said, taking the time to rub at the back of his neck. "Listen, I have an important matter to discuss with him. Do you mind taking Sandal and Orana out to the markets for the next hour or two? Here." He reached towards his belt and unfastened a coinpurse, taking it and setting it into Bodahn's hand. "On me."

"Messere," Bodahn gasped, "this is mighty generous of you, but surely this is too much."

"I insist." When he tried to return the pouch, Garrett gently pushed it back towards him, closing his hands over it once more. "You've all done a lot for this family over the years. Let me repay the kindness that you've shown me."

Bodahn stared up at him, then nodded in resignation.

"As you wish then. Give us a moment, and we'll clear out."

Garrett nodded in turn. As soon as they were ready, he saw them off out the door.

Before he could even think about searching for Anders, he had to make sure that their home was secure. Setting aside Sol’s potion, he checked that the locks to the estate were properly latched into place, but even that was not enough to put his mind at ease.

Garrett set up several wards to ensure that no one would be getting in or out of the estate without his say-so. While he drew the curtains closed, he had Barkspawn run a sweep over the estate.

One burglar in his wardrobe had been one too many for his liking.

Call him paranoid, but the conversation he and Anders needed to have should be for their ears and their ears alone.

By the time Barkspawn returned, barking his approval, Garrett spared him a few treats from his pack, along with a heaping pile of praise.

When he left to stand guard at the entrance, as Garrett directed, Garrett finally sought out his beloved apostate.

There, in the library, Anders poured over a tome with a burning intensity, ultimately unaware of his surroundings.

He jolted when Garrett cleared his throat, turning to greet him with a small smile.

One look at Garrett’s face, however, and his smile vanished.

“Are you okay?” Anders said, approaching him cautiously. “Are you ready to head out?”

“We can leave soon,” Garrett promised, lips pursed. “But first, I would like to speak with you in private.” He gestured out towards the main living area. “Up in our room, perhaps?”

“Okay…” Anders said, the word drawn out in confusion. “But we really should be leaving soon. The quicker we get this done, the better.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Garrett muttered. “I assure you, though. This will only take a moment.”

Hesitant, Anders considered what would be his best course of action in this scenario, eventually nodding along in agreement.

Together, they climbed the stairs to their room in silence.

Once they were safely inside, Garrett searched the room yet again. He peeked out the window behind the curtains, confirming that no one lingered in the streets below. With that being cleared, he turned to rummage through the wardrobe, and then glanced underneath the bed with a keen eye.

Anders watched him, dumbfounded.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Instead of immediately answering, Garrett added two layers of wards to both the door and the windows.

The first was to repel anyone who tried entering without permission.

The second was to muffle any and all noise from within.

Garrett turned to Anders after he was finished, clenching his jaw.

“I’m trying to make sure that we won’t be interrupted,” he explained, “and that we don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing us.” His frown deepened. “We need to talk.”

“I gathered as much,” Anders stated, suddenly on edge. “Garrett, seriously, we don’t have time for th—”

“Then, make time,” Garrett retorted, lowering his voice when Anders winced.

Even with the wards in place, they remained quiet, careful not to raise their voices too much.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Garrett put some distance between them, taking a seat on the edge of the bed while he stared into the crackling flames of the fireplace.

“Were you—” He shook his head, exasperated by this turn of events. “Anders, were either of you going to tell me the truth?”

A spark of light flashed across his skin, but it quickly dimmed, there and gone in the blink of an eye.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, but the fact that he couldn’t look Garrett in the eye told him all that he needed to know.

“Right,” Garrett deadpanned, “so I guess the whole ‘making an explosive’ thing is something that I’m imagining. Great, so now I’m crazy?” Anders stiffened, and Garrett knew that he had him. “Oh, yes, dear, I know. I might not know your whole plan, but I know enough.”

Anders turned his back to him, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, as if to keep himself from falling apart.

“How did you find out?” he asked, his tone hollow and empty.

Garrett figured that, if anything, the time for honesty was now.

“I paid Solivitus a visit.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

Anders’ head snapped in his direction. A bright glow surged to the surface of his skin, forming veins of blue light, reminiscent of lyrium.

His eyes —once a warm, honey brown— were consumed in a blinding storm of blue.

He and Justice spoke together as one, the spirit’s voice reverberating through his host’s.

“You went to the Gallows?” they snarled. “Alone?”

“Don’t try to turn this around on me,” Garrett spat. “I can take care of myself. I covered my tracks.”

“Are you okay?” they asked. “Did anyone hurt you?” Before Garrett could respond, they stormed over to stand in front of him. They took his face in hand, turning it this way and that as they looked him over from head to toe, their movements frantic. Garrett allowed them to continue with their poking and prodding, knowing that they needed to be certain that he returned unscathed. “We swear, if any of them so much as laid a finger on you…”

“I’m fine,” Garrett assured them, taking trembling hands into his own. He gave them a firm squeeze, his touch lingering. “But I hope you realize that I wouldn’t have had to resort to going there, if only you two had been honest with me in the first place.”

They shook their head, snatched their hands away, but Garrett insisted on his side being heard.

“Back at your clinic, I could tell that something was bothering you, that you were hiding this big secret of yours. I’m not stupid, you know.”

“We never meant to imply that you were.”

“If that wasn’t your intent, then stop coddling me,” Garrett said. Getting to his feet, he faced them and refused to back down. “Stop treating me like a child.”

“We were just trying to protect you!”

“By lying to me! By making me believe that we were going to lose Justice!” Frustrated, Garrett threw his hands up into the air. “As if I would rejoice in knowing such a thing.”

Their light flared, as did the neighboring fire, the room glowing brighter as their combined whirlwind of emotions stoked the roaring flames.

“We didn’t want to involve you any more than necessary,” Justice and Anders explained. “We don’t want you to have to pay the price for our crimes.”

“That might not be up to you,” Garrett told them. “That should be my decision.” He jabbed a finger into his own chest for emphasis. “The mages are my people, too. How often you seem to forget that.”

“We wouldn’t expect you to give up everything you have built.”

“Everything I built?” Garrett barked out a laugh, bordering on hysterical as he combed his fingers through unruly curls. “What exactly is keeping me tied down to Kirkwall anymore, if not you? If not the idea that we could help the mages here? Had it not been for that, I would have left as soon as Mother died. This place—”

Garrett struggled for breath, finally giving voice to the darkness that had been eating at him for years.

“It’s killing me, Anders.” Garrett’s vision blurred. His heart raced. Every gasp of air felt like too little and too much, all at once. “Everywhere I look, there is death and pain and suffering. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my friends. I love all of the adventures and excitement we get caught up in, but it’s not worth it. Staying here is slowly chipping away at everything I am, and I’m just so worried about what’s going to be left of me when all of this is over.”

His hands shook, magic flaring, uncontrollable.

Tears burned at his eyes, spilled down his cheeks.

When Anders and Justice reached out for him, Garrett didn’t even hesitate, burying himself into their arms, his head tucked underneath their chin.

They squeezed him close, refusing to let go.

This time, they were keeping him from falling apart.

“I want to do something right for a change. I knew that this was coming. You warned me yourself,” Garrett murmured, his words but a ghost of a whisper against their throat. “‘No small change would address the injustices that mages face.’”

Garrett pulled away, only far enough to cup their cheeks.

They leaned their forehead against his, noses brushing ever so softly.

“You always mention how I have the potential to become a leader to our people, so I’m asking you to trust me now to do what is right by them, no matter how difficult it might be.” Wrapping his arms around their waist, he rested his head upon their shoulder. “Trust me to help you. To support you through this. To make whatever sacrifices are necessary. And perhaps, one day, our children and our children’s children will live in a world where mages’ talents are to be celebrated, rather than feared.”

Anders scoffed, but their heart warmed at the thought nonetheless.

“You truly expect such change to happen in our lifetime?”

“Heh, call me optimistic.” Garrett smirked. “One of us has to be.”

Snorting, Anders leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to his lips.

“You know that we’ll be fugitives after this, right?” They sighed. “There is no turning back from that.”

“Good, because I had no plans to,” Garrett stated. “The majority of my life before Kirkwall was spent on the run, hopping from place to place. I kind of miss it. The spontaneity of it, not knowing what the next day will bring.” His grin spread. “Plus, it will be nice to get an actual change of scenery.”

“What?” Anders joked. “The annual trip to the Bone Pit not up to your standards anymore?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He paused, considering. “In all seriousness, though, if it meant building a better future for you and all other mages, then I will gladly throw away everything left of my life in Kirkwall. The house, the title, the money… We’ll make do without it, I swear. So long as we’re together, we’ll get through anything.”

“Garrett,” they breathed, nothing short of reverent.

“Yes?”

“We’re sorry,” they said, “for ever doubting you, but we’ll make it up to you now. We’ll finish this. Together.”

“No more secrets?”

“No more secrets,” they promised.

[windlullaby-arts]

I'm not sure if I can request drawings but.......rengoku wholesome drawing?? Pretty please 🥺🎀❓️

I hope this is wholesome enough for you but if it’s not, his character alone should be enough :D

If you enjoy my works please consider buying me a coffee ( ´• ω •` ) thank you for your support! <3

[lilbitofmac]

Two genius billionaires walk into a room…

[toffeemugg]

"look at this mess. you have all the subtlety of a rock to the face."

finally got around to reading @comicaurora and i am Not Immune to hubristic nerds with dark hair (and darker secrets)

pose/dialogue reference below (spoilers for chapter 21)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Decided to take the leap and post the little fanfic I wrote at the start of the month to AO3. The Yiling Laozu takes a break in the burial mounds. Also, there is a worm.

[johnbleepingzoidberg]

UNTITLED EVIL LUIGI AU COMIC THING | Page 1 of (???)

First | Prev | Next

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Luigi’s been acting weird lately-- and Bowser’s concerned. When Luigi vanishes one day without any warning, Bowser begrudgingly turns to Mario for help, meeting him at a (humorously petite) cafe in Mushroom Kingdom to discuss what’s been going on. Old rivalries die hard.

The cafe has really good liability insurance, don’t worry.

(A/N under the cut)

---

bear with me as i try to find my footing with this LOL, i am by no means a professional comic artist. i’m writing (or attempting to, at least) a comic based on my Evil Luigi AU-- read the original post/see the original art my looking thru the #my art tag on my blog! this is a bowuigi AU, so the relationship’s pre-established and Luigi, up until he ran away, had been ruling Koopa Kingdom alongside Bowser and navigating that fun new king life.

i have no idea what to tell yall to expect other than the fact that this will be very inconsistent in literally all senses of the word :’) but hey, im tryin my best-- i havent done any sort of comic in a long time and im having a lot of fun with this so far. if anything it’s good practice. right now i have at least a few pages planned out, but im not sure how quickly ill be able to draw them out, especially since i’ll be working full-time again soon. so see this as a bit of a teaser for things to come/an experiment to measure interest in the idea. :D

[somepancakeonline5377]

God I’m so sick of JSchlatt haters being like “erm isn’t he racist? 🤓👆” “isn’t he republican🤓👆”

NO HE IS NOT

HE MAKES EDGY STUPID JOKES THAT ARE SO CLEARLY JUST THAT, STUPID EGDY JOKES. “Erm he still shouldn’t have said it 🤓👆” THE MOST POPULAR FORM OF “EVIDENCE” WAS SOME SHITTY THUMBNAIL THAT WAS CHANGED AND A JOKE SWAGGERSOULS MADE BE FUCKING FOR REAL. ITS SO OBVIOUSLY JUST A EDGY JOKE GROW THE HELL UP.

“B-but he’s homophobic/transphobic!!” THAT MAN HAS KISSED MORE MEN THEN YOU WILL EVER MEN OR WOMAN AND HE IS IN A PODCAST WITH A OPEN TRANS WOMAN. THE PODCAST IS SLEEP DEPRIVED AND HER NAME IS ASTROSIST, SHE IS AWESOME AND CLEARLY FRIENDS WITH JSCHLATT BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY WOULD BE THERE IN A FUCKING PODCAST TOGETHER.

“Well he’s an awful person/rebublican 🤓” ITS CALLED A PERSONA, JSCHLATTS WHOLE PERSONA IS THAT HE IS AN NEW YORKER ASSHOLE BUT HE ISNT ITS JUST FOR THE BIT. HE LOVES ANIMALS, IS GREAT WITH KIDS, ACTUALLY FUNNY, AND MOST DEFINITELY NOT A DAMN REPUBLICAN. ITS CALLED A FUCKING BIT. Okay he is from New York but I digress.

Anyway fuck JSchlatt haters who don’t know shit about him, I mean if you just don’t like him for his content that’s fine but to try and make him seem like a shitty person is just shit man. I’m a JSchlatt fan for life man🔥🔥

[bucketsofmonsters]

Proper Etiquette - Part 1

cw: arranged marriage, oral sex, non-human genetalia, loss of virginity, reader is very repressed

male demon x fem reader

word count: 8k

part 1   part 2

You’d spent the whole week non stop planning your wedding. Stuff you’d dreamed about for ages. You had found your dress and helped pick flowers and colors, finally given the opportunity to decide things, to plan something for yourself. Everything would be perfect. But the planning couldn’t go on forever, eventually the actual day did arrive. 

And now you sat in the throne room, waiting to meet your future husband. It was odd, in all the years of thought you’d put into this wedding you hadn’t given much thought into who you'd be marrying. It wasn’t like it would matter anyways. You’d known it would be out of your control, that them letting you plan the wedding was nothing but an attempt to pacify you. A facade of control to distract you from the rest of your life that you had no part in making the decisions about. 

Sitting here, waiting for him to arrive, you could no longer indulge in that. You couldn’t throw yourself into planning, try and distract yourself from everything else. You sat there, chin up and face as unreadable as you could make it, and you had nothing to do but think. You had to stay present, it was important to consciously make yourself look regal in front of everyone, but that just made the time pass even slower, your incessant worry becoming overwhelming. 

Of course you’d known you wouldn’t get to choose who you married, that was how being a princess worked. That was why you’d put it out of your mind so intentionally, no use worrying about things you couldn’t change. However, in all your years of not thinking about it, you’d never imagined that this was how you’d end up. You assumed you’d marry some haughty rich boy, probably a prince or a king. You’d met enough of them to know that most of them were the same. You knew what awaited you, or at least you’d thought you had. Somehow, you had been blindsided. 

You wouldn’t react emotionally. They’d explained everything to you beforehand so you had time to cry, to get frustrated, to argue, to adjust. You were numb to it now. You’d do your duty and you would do it with grace. 

Part of you had thought that the descriptions of your husband-to-be and the others of his creed must have been exaggerated, that the people who had encountered them had been making the demons sound more imposing for the sake of their little tales. It wasn’t a foreign idea, returning soldiers would say plenty of things to make their victory sound a little more heroic or to make their defeat sound more justified. As he entered the room, you instantly realized that you had been wrong. The first thing you noticed was his size. He was easily seven feet tall, towering above everyone else in the room. His skin was a reddish-purple, far from anything human, with large, dark horns coming out of his head. 

He arrived alone. That had been one of the conditions of his arrival. Your father was convinced that if he’d brought more people, surely they’d attempt an invasion. Coming alone would prove his dedication to the peace you were forming with this marriage. You would return to his home with him when this was all over anyways. 

You had thought the rule foolish when you’d first heard it but now you were grateful. One towering man was more than enough to make you nervous, at least this way you had somewhere to focus your attention. 

You father spoke beside you, nodding his head in greeting. “Prince Rygel.”

The prince commanded the room's attention. You could feel everyone holding their breath, waiting nervously for him to speak. 

He spoke with a huff, clearly just as unhappy with this situation as you were. “Let’s get this over with.”

And with those words it was official. It was your wedding day. 

You didn’t think you’d get a chance to speak to one another before the ceremony and were confused when you were hustled into a side room, far from where you thought you’d be getting ready. When you turned to see the figure in the room you froze before remembering yourself. 

You curtsied deeply, showing respect as best you could. “Prince Rygel.”

He nodded, not bowing in return. “Princess.” 

For a moment frustration washed over you before you thought better of it. You knew nothing of his customs, of what a sign of respect was where he was from. Perhaps you were afraid of him, but you would not assume. Doing so would only make things worse, deepen the divide that already stood between the two of you. 

“I did not think we’d get to speak.” You attempted a smile as you spoke, doing your best to bridge that divide as much as could. 

“I insisted on it. It seems barbaric to marry someone I’d never even spoken to.” He seemed distracted, barely even looking at you.

You shrugged. “Such is politics.” That’s what you’d been telling yourself nonstop ever since you’d heard of the news, it wasn’t difficult to vocalize it. 

“Perhaps.” He fell silent, contemplating something that he didn’t seem interested in cluing you in on. 

As you sat in silence, feeling ignored and afraid and entirely out of your depth, you decided to speak up. At this point the wedding was happening no matter what, you might as well get some words in beforehand. “They all say you’re all monsters.” Even your voice felt small around him, feeling like it was barely leaving your throat. 

You weren't sure what response you wanted from him. Maybe reassurance that they were wrong or confusion at where the idea had come from. Perhaps, even, confirmation it was true. At least then you’d know what you were getting yourself into. The uncertainty was what was getting to you, just seeking some amount of knowledge about what the future would hold. 

He just chuckled to himself at some joke you were unaware you’d made. “You’d hate to hear what we say about you.”

That hadn’t occurred to you. Although humans weren’t as physically intimidating, surely his people had horror stories just like yours did. Your nations had been at odds for a very long time, you were sure both sides had plenty of tales of the other. And you would be living there, amongst people who probably hated you. You focused on your breathing, needing to keep yourself presentable at least until this ordeal was over. 

He clearly noticed the state you were working yourself into. “Listen, I’m not happy about this either. You think I want to marry a human?”

Great. As well as being terrified of being tied forever to this monstrous man, you weren’t even wanted. 

“This isn’t about what we want,” you responded, making sure to keep your chin up as you spoke, set on showing strength as much as you could. 

“No, it’s not. We’re prolonging this, you should go.”

You turned to leave, in a rush to get out before thinking better of it. You had to start forming goodwill between you at some point if this was going to be bearable, you might as well start now. “I’ll see you later,” you said, sparing him a small smile. 

He wasn’t even paying attention, lost in his own thoughts. As you left, you wondered if they were racing as much as yours were. 

The preparation for the wedding was all a blur. You barely even registered it had begun before you were at the altar. You kept finding yourself glancing around as the wedding commenced around you, as if perhaps, if you didn’t look at Rygel and didn’t listen to the officiant drone on between you, maybe this wouldn’t be real. 

Someone bumped you and you jolted back to reality, realizing they were waiting for you to speak. You uttered, “I do” and then it was done. You were married. All that preparation and you barely felt conscious for most of it. 

And then, per tradition, you kissed. He had to lean down to do so, you standing on the tips of your toes to reach him. It lasted barely a second, both of you clearly eager for it to be over. As soon as it was done you were out again, tuning out the world. 

You barely even realized you were being beckoned away. You turned, wide-eyed, to see someone who decidedly was not your husband trying to gently push you down a hallway. As you looked where he was trying to send you, you saw your husband walking off, leaving you behind. You charitably decided to believe he’d told you to come along and you just hadn’t heard him in your state, as opposed to him just choosing to leave you. You quickly thanked the man who had gotten your attention and trailed after Rygel, trying to keep up with his long gait. 

By the time you arrived, he was already settling into your bedroom, the one you would be sharing until you headed off to your new home. It was fairly nondescript, barely anything in the room but a few tables and a bed. You still felt distant, almost as if you were dreaming, unable to ground yourself in this foreign room. 

You realized that while you were in your daze with your back turned, taking in your surroundings, the prince had changed into more comfortable clothes, some meant for sleeping. That snapped you out of your trance. Suddenly, you were all too present, the reality of the situation setting in. 

As you took him in once more, you also realized he was staring at you, wondering how long he’d been doing that while you’d been in your little trance. Honestly, he was probably wondering why instead of changing you’d started breathing heavily and refused to look him in the eyes for more than a moment. Your panic was obviously clear to him because his face softened and he turned, giving you a modicum of privacy. You breathed in deeply, trying to keep your emotions in check, and then scrambled to get dressed, practically tripping over yourself as you rushed. 

He spoke from behind you, voice less stilted than it had been earlier. “You don’t need to be scared of me, you know.”

“I just got married, I think I would be scared regardless.” You smoothed out the lines in your nightgown as you sat on the bed, indicating to him that he could turn around. 

When he did, he seemed confused. “Were you always scared of marriage? I’d assumed it was because of me.”

“I just… I kind of know what comes next. I’ve heard whisperings…”

He chuckled. “Whisperings you say.”

“I just don’t really understand it and people have been saying all sorts of things to me about you and about tonight and I kind of know the basics, I just…” Now you were really getting yourself worked up, spiraling as you were honest with yourself about how you felt for the first time since this had all begun. “It’s just intimidating and I don’t know anything about you or your kind or where you come from or about this.” You gestured vaguely around you, not even sure what you were referring to at this point. 

“You’ll learn about me, there’ll be time for that. And we don’t have to do anything.”

“But…”

He cut off what was inevitably going to be another panicked ramble. “None of that, no buts. In fact, I think it’s been a long day for both of us and we need some rest.”

This wasn’t at all what you'd imagined. You knew the broad strokes of what should be happening tonight, you should be trying for a child. Although, you didn't even know if the two of you could have a child, you very much doubted it. But regardless, you knew what didn't happen was the pair going quietly off to bed. You'd heard the whispers and the snickering, about tonight and your new husband. Part of you was relieved, no longer having to face down this unknown, but still, you remained uncertain, both of what should be happening and of what was actually occurring.

You took a shot in the dark, “And if I never let you touch me?”

He shrugged. “Then I'll never touch you. I am not in the business of terrorizing young women, whatever stories they've told you about my kind. I came here to bring peace, we have done that, what happens beyond that is up to you, not anyone you’ve happened to hear whispers from.”

You knew this wasn’t how things were done, that you were breaking some unspoken protocol but frankly, you were too tired to care. His words calmed you enough to stop your heart from racing, the exhaustion really setting in. Right now you just wanted to sleep.

It hadn’t really set in until just now that the two of you would be sharing a living space from now on. You got carefully under the covers on the opposite side of the bed from where he was sitting.

As he went to lay down next to you, you both quickly realized that his form did not fit on the bed at all, legs hanging off no matter how hard he tried. However, despite the lack of space, he kept a fair distance from you, making sure you didn’t touch. 

He grumbled to himself as he made himself as comfortable as he could given the situation. “Did you not have a bigger bed? You're all so tiny.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight which earned you a surprised look from the man. “I’m sorry, you just look so out of place.”

“When we return home, you’ll be drowning in bed space. None of these puny little beds.”

The smile fell from your face at the reminder. “When is that, when are we going?”

“We’ll wait a few days, so you can say your goodbyes.”

“Thank you.” You hoped the sense of genuine relief that washed over you had seeped into your voice, that he understood that you were grateful you’d have some time to adjust, even if he clearly didn’t want to be here. 

With your nerves mostly settled for the night you drifted off, doing your best to ignore the man laying next to you and pretend you were still in your own bed. 

You awoke to the feeling of being smacked in the face with a stray horn. You yelped out, more in surprise than pain, and Rygel jerked awake beside you. He quickly realized what had occurred as you rubbed your cheek and you spent your first morning as a married woman being apologized to profusely. 

Even long after you’d forgiven him, he still seemed mortified by the incident. “I’m really not used to such tight quarters, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, you just surprised me,” you reassured him for what felt like the hundredth time.

He seemed eager to leave your company, embarrassment written across his face. “I should be leaving, me and your father have some details we need to finalize about the treaty.” You gave him a quiet nod as he rushed off.

You, on the other hand, were not involved in the peace negotiations. You barely knew what was going on. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, you’d fought to get any knowledge of what your marriage actually meant for your kingdom but every time you’d been told it wasn’t your place. 

So, with nothing better to do, you set about giving yourself tasks. Right now, your mission was to try and make this room feel more like a home, even if you’d only be here a few days. You managed to squirrel away some of the flowers from your wedding that were already being thrown out. It was quite a waste, they were still beautiful and already they were being discarded, you were sure they wouldn’t mind you sneaking some off. 

You displayed them throughout the room, realizing too late you might have grabbed too many but unwilling to get rid of any of them. They brightened your mood and that was enough to justify having so many scattered about. 

As Rygel returned, he did not seem so enthused by the new addition to your room, more confused than anything. “What are these?”

You felt yourself spring up in excitement. “They’re flowers! They’re the ones from the wedding, I picked them out myself. Most of them were grown in our garden, it’s lovely out there this time of year.”

“Are they? We don’t really have gardens where I’m from.”

Your shoulders fell, the excitement draining from your body. You didn’t know much about your new home, besides the stories you’d been told about it which you were beginning to suspect may not have been entirely accurate. Now the only concrete information you really had was that there would be no flowers. “Oh, right. Well, you should at least see ours while we’re still here.”

“Would you like to show me?”

You nodded eagerly, always excited to give someone a tour of the gardens. You loved the flowers and the atmosphere and would talk about them to anyone who would listen to you, which historically hadn’t been very many people. 

As you rushed him outside to begin your tour, you realized that Rygel seemed to be able to stomach more of your rambling than most, following you deep into the palace’s quite extensive gardens, showing him your favorite plants and spots to hide out. 

You finally ended up in your favorite place, a little spot looking over a pond, mostly hidden away from the winding path by a willow tree. You’d spent many days here, hiding away from the world, trying to find a moment of quiet. You weren’t even sure you’d meant to walk here, your feet just taking you here on instinct. 

Rygel looked around, a ghost of a smile on his face. When he looked like this, you didn’t find him quite so threatening. He almost looked friendly. 

“You care a lot about this place.” It sounded almost like an accusation, like he’d caught you doing something.

 You nodded in agreement. “I grew up here, of course I do.”

“We don’t put as much emphasis on places. People, ideas, those are the things worth caring about. I thought your kind’s obsession with objects and places was all greed and pride but the way you care about this place… maybe I was quick to judge.”

You shrugged. “Maybe we both were.” Being here calmed you down, made everything feel like it made more sense. “You know, I used to sit under this tree and hide from my tutors so I wouldn’t have to go to class,” you said with a giggle.

“You don’t like learning?”

“Oh, no, I love learning! I just didn’t much like my tutor.”

He gasped in faux shock. “Princess. I didn’t know you had it in you to speak ill of someone.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you cracked a smile, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum. “I just didn’t like how he made me learn. Never really explained anything, it was all rules and refusing to answer my questions. I much preferred my time out here, I’d spend hours looking at the flowers and reading whatever I could get my hands on.”

“Seems like you probably learned more that way anyways. Did you ever swim in this pond? That’s what I would’ve been up to out here, probably less intellectual than the reading but more fun”

“Of course I did! What self respecting child wouldn’t ruin their nice dresses by jumping in a pond. When I was very young, before my etiquette classes became truly serious, I would go frog hunting in here, I’d find them and show them to everyone. I was quite the little menace.”

“You sound delightful. Curse the etiquette classes for taking that from the world, we could always use more frog hunters.”

“Yes, well, those sorts of things are for children. I’m a proper lady now.”

A sense of disdain passed over his face and you worried you’d ruined the moment. “I swear, it’s like they beat the fun out of you humans,” he grumbled, not seeming upset at you but seeming upset nonetheless. 

“It’s just not proper.”

“So? When we return you’ll learn to have fun again, I’m sure of it. We’ll find you a frog pond somewhere, let you enjoy yourself for once.”

Your first response was to be taken aback by the prospect. You felt like you probably didn’t look dissimilar to all the ladies of the court you’d tried to show frogs to in your youth, sneaking them in inside of your long sleeves and displaying them proudly to the horror of the people around you. 

There were lots of things you’d stopped doing. You wondered how many of them were normal where Rygel came from, how many deep seeded habits you’d have to unlearn. 

“Perhaps it’s best to leave the fun to the children.” You tried to look away from him, feeling some negative emotion brewing in the pit of your stomach that you didn’t want to deal with, when he grabbed your chin and pulled your attention back to him.

He inspected your face as he held it in his hand and you left it there, too shocked and confused to turn away again. “You’re scared,” he muttered. “Scared of what? Of not having to force yourself into these stuffy rules? Of anything new, perhaps?”

“I’m not scared.”

“Prove it.”

And then he leaned down and kissed you, his hand drifting to your cheek. His hands were so big they almost engulfed your face but the lightness of his touch offset how intimidating that was, his touch so soft that you could easily pull away if you wanted to. You didn't. 

You’d seen people kiss before, couples in the court showing quick affection towards one another. You had only been kissed once in your life, up on that altar in front of everyone. That kiss had been what you’d expected, exactly what you’d seen before, quick and quietly affectionate. This was nothing like that. This was something new.

This was passionate and overwhelming in a way you didn’t know a kiss could be. You tried to match his movements, unsure of yourself and trying to get out of your own head. As his lips moved against yours, you sunk into the kiss, shutting off your brain and just letting yourself feel. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to keep yourself on the tips of your toes so you could reach him properly. That wasn’t a concern for long as his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you up towards him. 

You let out a surprised little noise as his tongue entered your mouth, the feeling foreign but not unwelcome. It felt like he was exploring you in ways you’d never imagined before. You were happy the two of you were in your little hiding place because the idea of anyone seeing you like this was unthinkable. 

When he finally pulled away, you felt dizzy, almost like you were drunk on something, although on what you weren’t sure

You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth, feeling like a fish out of water.

Finally you settled on, “Was that normal?”

His head cocked to the side. “Does it matter?”

You realized you were almost panting, your breathing heavy after the kiss, trying desperately to calm it down. 

He tilted your head up again and you let him, your cheeks burning beneath his gentle hand. “This flustered after a kiss, I can’t even imagine how disheveled I could make you.”

If it was anything like that, you’d welcome it. You weren’t sure you could manage words right now so you just stayed still, looking up at him quietly. 

His thumb ran across your cheek, a naked affection present in his eyes. “You know, I like you much more than I thought it would. They just pushed you down so far under those layers of etiquette that I couldn’t see it.”

A soft smile graced your face and you nuzzled into his hand, craving a closeness with him that you didn’t quite understand. 

With the tour finished and a peak of the afternoon reached, Rygel led you gently back towards the palance, seemingly unbothered by your silence. You were busy with other things, your mind mainly occupied with attempting to unravel the events of the afternoon and the cacophony of emotions and thoughts flowing through you. 

When you reached your room you were still trying to unravel the web of emotions you’d been stuck with, studying the flowers you’d squirreled away as you thought. Although you were unable to understand your own thoughts, something else did occur to you and you grabbed some flowers from the bouquet, pressing some sprigs of lavender under the couple of books in the room. 

Rygel watched you work, quietly observing as you picked out your favorite flowers and placed them within the pages of the books before stacking them up. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m pressing some flowers. It’s not much but it means they’ll be preserved and I can bring them with me when we leave.”

“That’s a clever idea.”

“Thank you!” You were beaming at the praise, his interest in and approval of your actions meaning more to you than you thought they would. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” you said, as you turned from your books back to your husband after having collected your thoughts. 

“Oh, have you.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be… you know…”

“You don’t need to talk in riddles. What are you asking me?”

You couldn’t. You physically did not have the capacity to speak plainly on this matter, feeling overwhelmed already. “Forget it, I was being silly,” you said, trying to brush it off.

He shook his head. “I’m not letting you run that easily, princess.”

“I just want us to do what we should be doing.” You tried to play it off, like this was no big deal and you just wanted to follow how things should be.

“You weren’t so eager last night. Last night it was ‘what if I never let you touch me.’ What’s changed? Maybe you want more than what you’re letting on.”

You reeled back, feeling as if you’d been accused of something. “No. That’s not true.”

“Maybe not. Do you want to try something? It won’t be what you heard whisperings of, not yet at least, I get the feeling that would be too much. Right now, let’s just focus on reminding you how to enjoy yourself, how does that sound?” He was drawing closer as he spoke and you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. 

He got so close to you that with one stray breath you’d be touching and then he stopped, waiting for your response. Things were in your hands now, you had to choose it, he wouldn’t let you just stumble into this.

You managed a quiet, “Okay,” and let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t press you for more. 

Instead, he gave you a gentle smile, one that you couldn’t help but return. 

“Stop me if it’s too much, alright? And keep talking, I want to hear that pretty little voice.”

Before those last words could leave you floundering, he crashed your mouths together once again and you let yourself get wrapped up in the kiss, everything else fading away. 

He picked you up effortlessly, mouth still pressed to yours, and you didn’t care where he took you as long as you got to keep doing this. You felt yourself being set on the bed, your arms wrapped around his neck, keeping him there with you as he pressed you into the sheets.

Eventually, despite your efforts to keep him there, he pulled away, drawing a small whine from you. Immediately you slapped your hand over your mouth, horrified at the noise you’d just made. 

He immediately grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand from your mouth and pressing it into the bed. “I said I want to hear you.”

You nodded immediately, your eagerness to please overwhelming your embarrassment. 

After you agreed, you expected to be kissed again, but instead, to your mild disappointment, he just drifted downwards. He pulled up the hems of your skirts, flipping them up towards you so he could get under them and you fought every urge to cover yourself back up. His hand began to pull down your tights as he studied your face.

“How are you feeling?”

You did an internal check in. How were you feeling? Different, that was for sure. It felt like something was brewing under your skin, your whole body flushing and your breaths getting heavy once more. “Hot. My heart is beating really fast.”

“All good things”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yes, really.”

He pulled down your tights the rest of the way, leaving you fully exposed. You could barely even see him, the skirts he’d hiked up around your waist getting in the way. You pushed the skirts in, compressing them so you could see his face, desperate to read him, to understand what he was feeling.

He looked enthralled, staring between your thighs like they held all the answers in the universe. His massive fingers glided through your newly exposed folds. “Look at you, all nice and wet for me. I can’t believe I was able to get the innocent little princess so riled up.”

Before you had a chance to respond, he leaned forward and licked a hot, wet stripe through your folds, the sudden sensation making your legs clamp together, prevented by his head and horns between your thighs, keeping you spread open.

He stopped immediately, looking up at your wide-eyed face. “I said talk to me, how are you doing?”

Your mind was still reeling, barely able to think properly, let alone verbalize how you were feeling.

He prompted you further, searching your face for clues as to how you felt as he let his head rest on your lower stomach. “Come on, sweet girl.”

Your face flushed even more at the pet name, something you didn’t even know was possible. You weren’t sure your face had ever been this hot before in your life. 

“Can you do it again?” you ask, your voice soft and unsure. You felt as if you were doing something wrong but the overwhelming urge to experience it again overrode that. 

A mischievous smile crossed his face and he immediately dropped back down, pressing kisses into your upper thigh before his thick tongue returned to your folds, a whimper escaping your throat as he did. 

And then he sucked and your hips almost unwillingly bucked upwards. You could feel him repressing a grin, opting instead to nip at your upper thigh and you let out another whine, absolutely desperate for more. 

“Did that feel good? Are you enjoying yourself?”

His tone felt like he was teasing you but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, frantically nodding your head and babbling out words in the affirmative, hoping he’d do it again.

He seemed to enjoy teasing you, doing something that would make you gasp and then pulling away again, demanding responses or pressing kisses into your thighs for a while before returning. 

After a while, you realized he was waiting for you to tell him what to do, that he wouldn’t stop this teasing until you asked, perfectly content to sit down there and bring you right to the edge for as long as you let this go on. 

The next time he was where you wanted him, lapping at the spot right above your folds, you spoke unprompted for the first time since this had begun. “Please, stay there, I need more.”

The second you asked him he doubled down, his mouth now glued to you, a feeling in your lower stomach drawing tighter and tighter. The sensations were starting to get overwhelming, your head thrown back and your back arching into him. 

You grabbed at the fabric of your skirts, desperate for something more solid to hold onto. Finally, your hands reached down and grabbed his horns, wrapping as far around them as you could. This only seemed to spur him on, his arms lifting you up, holding your lower half slightly aloft and pulling you even further into his face, as if you weighed nothing. 

You were as close as you could be, your hands pushing his horns down, pressing his face further into you and his hands pulling you up into him, one of them drifting down to grab your ass while the other stayed firmly positioned at your hip. 

You were glad his new resolve to eat you out unendingly left him unable to speak because if he’d prompted a response from you right now, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to manage one. 

And then the world exploded. Your vision whited out. Distantly, you could feel yourself pushing up into his face, but everything else felt so far away compared to what you were feeling, the pure bliss ripping through you. 

It began to fade and you pushed Rygel off of you as the sensations started to become too much. He allowed you to push him away and sit up as he looked at you expectantly. He was panting too, as if this had affected him just as much as it had affected you. 

It felt like you were able to think for the first time since this had started, your normally ordered thoughts had completely left you behind. As you came down from your high, they returned and your head raced. What had just happened? 

As your ability to think coherently returned, a thick cloud of guilt settled over you. “This was wrong.”

His words were soft and low, like he was talking to a wounded animal. “You're crashing. This can happen after you come, a low after a high, it’s totally normal.”

You weren’t listening to him, you couldn’t listen to him. “This is evil.”

“You need affection right now, princess. Come here, let me take care of you.”

“I need to be away from you.” You stumbled to your feet, knees shaky and head reeling. Your skirts fell back to their rightful place as you stood. “This is wrong, I’m not supposed to… You’re trying to seduce me to evil.”

“I’m trying to seduce you to something. You need to calm down, just breathe.”

“No, this is… this can’t be right. We’re supposed to be producing children not… I have to go.”

You didn’t let him say another word to you, certain he could’ve convinced you to stay if you’d let him. 

Did human husbands do what he’d done to you? You’d never heard such things but then again, you were starting to think there were many things you hadn’t heard of. 

You went to the library as if it held any answers for you, pouring through books, not even sure what you were looking for at this point. The most you ever got out of them was “do what your husband says” and you were sure that they didn’t have your particular husband in mind when they wrote that.

Besides, he hadn’t actually told you to do anything. Quite the opposite, he would’t really do anything without you asking. It probably would have been easier if he’d told you what to do, easier to rationalize it that way. But now, the weight felt like it was on your shoulders. You had asked for this, if it wasn’t right that was on you.

After spiraling for hours, you realized night had long since set. No matter how out of sorts you felt, you should get back to your room. You winced at the prospect of having to face Rygel. You never seemed to be able to think around him, knowing that the confusion you were feeling now would only get worse in his presence. Why was he so overwhelming?

You thought there was a chance he’d be asleep when you returned, that you’d be able to slip into bed and you wouldn’t have to face him. That hope was squashed when you entered your room, finding him waiting patiently for you. 

“It’s a bit late for aftercare but something tells me you still need to be taken care of.” He opened his arms, beckoning you towards him. 

You weren’t even sure what you were doing, you just knew you wanted to be near him. A few days ago, you would’ve pushed the instinct aside, pushed down what you wanted, ignored it. But he’d broken down your walls too much and you wanted it too badly. 

As soon as you got within arms reach, he pulled you into his chest and you were absolutely engulfed by his embrace. 

You could practically feel the tension leave you, melting into him as he held you. You couldn’t help but feel safe with him, a quiet sense of reassurance present in his touch.

“Where did you go?”

You tried to shrug but you couldn’t, his embrace limiting the movement of your arms. “Just went to read.”

You felt a chuckle rumble through his chest. “Just so you know, I’m not bringing any of those damn etiquette books with us. They’ve ruined your life enough already. You know, I did something with my afternoon too.”

You somehow already felt sleepy. You kept missing just how tired you were right up until your worry left you. You were being held up only by his arms, if he stopped supporting you you’d collapse on the floor. Instead, he pulled the both of you back onto the bed, keeping you firmly tucked against him. 

You nuzzled into his chest as you spoke, the word coming out a little slurred as exhaustion overtook you. “What did you do?”

“I’ve found some flowers that I think will work with our soil back home, it won’t be what you have here but it’ll be something.”

Suddenly, you felt wide awake, pulling away so you could look at him. “You did what?”

“They seem important to you, I want you to feel at home.”

You felt yourself tearing up and he immediately pulled you into his chest.

This couldn’t be bad. This man who seemed intent on making you feel safe and welcome, who was never endingly obsessed with what you wanted, couldn’t be bad.  

You pulled back again, although he seemed reluctant to let you go. You immediately used the opportunity to crash your lips into his, desperate to show him how grateful you were. He seemed surprised at first but quickly and happily sunk into it. 

“You’re getting bolder,” he said as he pulled away, his forehead leaned against yours.

You were. Never would you have considered doing anything like that before today, something that you just did because you wanted to. Maybe having to unlearn all this, to live in his society, not fueled by what was proper wouldn’t be so bad. If it was like today, you couldn’t say you’d mind it at all. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” You said the words as soon as you realized they were true, your carefully constructed filter slipping away entirely. 

“I think I’m in love with you too. Funny how that works out.”

You let him pull you into him again, this time without any protest, happily falling asleep against his side. 

You woke up warm and happy, still tucked under his arm, your back pressed tightly to his front and your head tucked under his, a far cry from the deliberate distance between you you’d slept with before. 

As you wiggled a little to get comfortable, you heard him groan behind you, waking up. As you shifted, you felt something hard pressed into you before he pulled away, mumbling a quiet apology. 

As he did your rose with him and he immediately detected the confusion written across your face. His face fell into that familiar scowl and he muttered to himself, “Did they teach you anything?”

Not really. You’d assumed you’d sort of instinctively know everything. That’s how everyone had made it sound, like after you got married you’d just know what to do. Unfortunately, married you was just as clueless as unmarried you had been. 

You didn’t like feeling like you were in the dark, like everyone, including your husband, knew so much more than you. You’d been told you’d know what to do, you’d know what was right, you’d know so many things and yet they hadn’t given you the tools to figure those things out. It wasn’t fair. You options seemed to be to stay in the dark forever or potentially make the wrong choice because your supposed instincts just never kicked in. 

You wondered if this was a normal problem, if everyone was left in a confused panic after they got married. Sure, their situations probably weren’t as extreme as yours, but you couldn’t imagine that you’d feel more certain with a human spouse. 

Or maybe it was just you. Maybe everyone else in the world had these perfect instincts and here you were, trying not to spiral in front of your husband. 

He seemed to immediately pick up on your headspace, eyes softening as he watched you take shaky breaths. 

You sank to the floor, your head reeling, unsure of what to do with yourself but knowing you needed to sit down. 

He followed you down, sitting beside you. 

You buried your head in your hands so you didn’t have to face his concerned gaze. “I just wish I knew anything.” You were frustrated and confused and felt like you were at a disadvantage that you shouldn’t have had to deal with. 

“Do you want to learn? I can show you.”

That got your attention. Your head swung up to look at him. “What?”

“Well, you’re not going to learn by pouting on the floor. Or maybe… do you want to see?”

You nodded eagerly, watching him rise to his feet and sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at you. You rose to your knees, your stomach fluttering as he started to undo his pants.

Your eyes widened as they came undone and his cock sprang out, massive and hard. There was no way that would ever fit inside you. Maybe without the size difference, but not between the two of you. 

“Is this supposed to go…”

“Don’t worry about that, you’re just learning right now.”

You tentatively wrapped your hand around it, your fingers just barely unable to meet, needing both hands to encompass the whole thing. 

“It’s bigger than what most humans have,” he said, responding to the shocked look plastered across your face.

You certainly hoped so, you imagined this would look wildly disproportionate on a human man. 

You remembered what he’d done to you yesterday and tentatively licked the head of it, getting a taste of the liquid seeping from the tip.  As you did, he groaned. Your eyes flew up to look at his face, contorted in pleasure as he looked down at you. He’d liked that. You made him feel good, like what he’d done to you. 

You started again with new determination, wanting to make him feel good again. This was no longer just exploration, you had a goal now. You licked the head of it again, watching his reaction closely. 

He let out another low noise, eyes still on you. “Turns out I’m not the only tease in this marriage.”

You weren’t intentionally teasing him, you both knew that, but the idea that you could be filled you with a sense of power. Maybe you weren’t as experienced, but you could make him feel good and make him desperate for more, maybe you weren’t as far out of your depths as you thought.

You attempted to fit more of it in your mouth, no longer content with your tentative licks. You could barely fit anything past the head, the rest far too big, opting instead to wrap your hands around it. You sucked in and watched triumphantly as your actions were rewarded by him throwing his head back, another desperate noise leaving him. 

His eyes kept pulling back towards you, entranced by your actions as you explored and attempted to bring him closer to the bliss you’d experienced the day before. You licked and sucked, taking careful note of what got a reaction from him, trying to elicit more and more of them, loving every noise you managed to draw from the man. 

“Come on you… shit, I’m close, fuck me.” Through his expletives you kept on sucking, wanting to watch him come unraveled even more. He hissed out a few more curse words and pulled you off of him. You couldn’t help but let out a small whine as he did, wanting to earn more of those noises from him.

 He looked down at you, eyes wide, a frenzied look on his face. “You want more? I don’t want to accidentally choke you, just… fuck, look at you, so deperate for me. You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now.” You stayed kneeled on the floor, waiting for further instruction. His hand wrapped all the way around his cock easily, not needing the two hands that you’d found necessary, his hips bucking desperately into his hand. 

“Can you keep your mouth open for me?” he asked between pants as he pumped his shaft. 

You nodded eagerly, wanting to please him. 

Just as your mouth fell open, he grunted one last time, sounding almost animalistic, and then he erupted, thick ropes of cum falling onto your face and into your mouth. 

It tasted like the stuff from before, just much more of it this time. You swallowed as much as you could but there was still plenty left to paint your face. Finally, the seemingly never ending ropes ceased and he began to soften.

You couldn’t have looked attractive, your eyes were watering and there was spit and cum everywhere but he was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

“You did so well.” His hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into him happily. “Come on, I need to get you cleaned up.”

He guided you to your feet, pulling you into his side as he moved you towards the washroom and you let him pull you along, ready to let him take care of you.

[torra-and-the-toons]

Some notes on Nigel from my modern adult AU, where all their adventures were just them playing pretend as kids and now they're grown up.

I always liked the cancer theory for Nigel, so I went with that. (what can I say, I love angst...) He left because the US healthcare system is a joke.

I made this for outfits, but it kinda just evolved into random notes.

[the-magpie-archives]

Several times recently I've found myself making tea whilst listening to The Magnus Archives, and as a result I've developed a silly little headcanon...

I'm not sure if it's a nationwide thing, but certainly throughout my life I've experienced the weird stigma of having sugar in your tea. It's not direct or aggressive, but there always seems to be this vague notion that sweetening your tea makes you less strong, less manly. I rarely see men ask for sugar, and often observe an obvious proudness in teenage boys when they say "no sugar, thanks."

Picture Jonathan Sims, newly appointed archivist, worried he's not good enough, placed haphazardly in power of people who were very recently peers, and desperately trying to prove he's the right man for the job. Everything seems to be falling apart a bit, and he's not at all sure his assistants have any faith in him; he had to ask for a tape recorder because he couldn't get his laptop to work properly - that's embarrassing.

Now imagine Martin: office sweetheart, gets along with pretty much anyone, just moved to a new position working with two close friends, and the attractive guy from research is his boss (he's a bit rude and stuck up, but it's probably just the stress, right?). He's pretty comfortable! Aside from the occasional snide remark from Jon it is a good job, which is especially pleasing considering how he got to work at the institute in the first place.

Two opposing forces, as we all well know! But what's better at building bridges than a nice cup of tea? Martin makes a lot of tea, but I like to think he memorises how everyone takes theirs. Regardless, he has to ask at least once.

And so, kind, sweet, gentle Martin, his offer of a cup of tea promptly accepted, would have the misfortune of saying, "do you take that with sugar?" to an embarrassed, flustered Jon, who's trying desperately not to confront any romantic feelings he might have hidden away. The ensuing scoff and slightly too enthusiastic 'No! Thank you.' would be enough to remember that preference for a while.

As times go on, hundreds of cups of tea later, things get less tense between the pair, and Martin never has to revisit the question; but late one night, shortly before Jon is to leave for Great Yarmouth and Martin is to risk it all to take down Elias, Jon places a hand gently on Martin's shoulder and asks "Could I have a cup of tea?". Of course Martin says yes, it's the least he could do, but as he turns to go and make it, Jon calls out again. "With sugar, please."

Just a tiny vulnerability, but enough. By that point most of Jon's facade has been torn roughly away many times, but letting go of small points of pride often means more than non-deliberate actions. Having enough bravery to admit to liking something soft and sweet is harder than you'd think.

Maybe during those six months after, Martin would watch the sugar dissolve into his own tea with a painful melancholy, the sweetness a bitter memory.

[mayhemspreadingguy]

the sketches were directly inspired by @posthumousvigor 's amazing series The Outcast's Gambit. I couldn't get it out of my head for days... my coping mechanism? draw.

[ender-lune]

does anyone else think about nlm beeduo . anyone else .

[dollya-robinprotector]

Winter holds the gem up to the light. "Pretty," he says. "Similar to the ones they mine nearby." He frowns. "Except a different hue."

[breadandblankets]

duke, heading into the kitchen:

doug, watching from the couch as the kitchen suddenly starts lighting up like someone is arc welding in there:

duke, walking out with a steaming mug of tea:

doug, turning to elaine who is doing a sudoku with her legs thrown over his lap: "your son-"

elaine, raising an eyebrow: "My son?"

doug: "He's your son when he does something freaky."

[figofswords]

wow I didn’t think reblogging that tea post and then seeing people’s tags would deal me such strong psychic damage. come over I can fix you I can find a tea you will like. “I don’t like tea” how can you say that as a blanket statement when there are so many vastly different kinds of tea. head in hands

[kaladinkholins]

BRB thinking thoughts about Taigen's character, the TaiMizu ship, and a big chunk of fandom's perceptions regarding both those things.

(Inspired by @farintonorth's post related to this topic that just got my brain going brrrrr)

OK so let me just... start off by saying that I think that reducing stories to their tropes is seriously detrimental to the way some people are interacting with fiction, and while that honestly warrants its own post about the subject, I wanna talk specifically about how this affects the way some people in the fandom talk about Taigen and TaiMizu.

Because yeah, tropes are useful shorthand to refer to certain dynamics or archetypes etc, and they are indeed the building blocks to any story. But in a well-written story, characters and their relationships, actions, and motivations, are much more complex than just tropes. Because in a story that has characters who are more than just cardboard cutouts, their behaviours, backgrounds, motivations and all of that, are inseparable from the context of the overall story they exist in.

So like, sure, you can say Mizu and Taigen have an enemies-to-lovers or rivals-to-lovers dynamic. I also use those terms because it's easier. But I also think this is where things start to get a bit twisted, especially from an intertextual sense. Because "enemies-to-lovers" is also commonly used to refer to other ships in other media, whereby it tends to be rooted in an imbalanced power dynamic, such as oppressor-oppressed and bully-victim.

And while that's a whole can of worms that I won't be getting into because it can quickly derail into a whole separate sort of fandom discourse, I'd just like to make it clear that Mizu and Taigen, in particular, do not have an imbalanced power dynamic. They are not bully-victim or oppressor-oppressed. The only understandable reason why someone might actually think their relationship is imbalanced is if

A) they only watched the first episode, or

B) they cannot grasp the slightest bit of nuance in a character, or

C) they're being obtuse on purpose simply because the Mizu/Taigen relationship, or Taigen's character in general, just doesn't suit their tastes.

While yes, Taigen, along with his whole gang, had bullied Mizu when they were children, that dynamic does not exist between them whatsoever in adulthood. Whatever imbalanced bully-victim power dynamic that had once existed between them was decisively ripped apart the moment Mizu beat him in that duel in the dojo, and then completely obliterated by the end of the season.

Mizu is not a defenseless victim at Taigen's mercy. Mizu can beat Taigen's ass any time she wants (and she DOES, repeatedly in fact), and could even kill him if she felt like it. She taunts him openly and without fear ("I like your hair"; "I can beat you with any weapon you choose") and all he does is bark back, because that's pretty much all Taigen ever does. Time and time again, he yaps about how much he wants to kill her, but time and time again, his actions prove that all of it is just an empty threat. Because though his words say "I hate you", his actions demonstrate the complete opposite. He's shown how protective he is of Mizu, how unhesitatingly he sacrifices himself up for her, how loyal he is in enduring days-long torture to not give up information about her, how even when near-death and in pain, he's still willing to keep standing back up so he can fight by her side and help her win against her enemies.

And Mizu is not an idiot! She sees that too. She does not see him as a threat, an enemy, or even a bully. Especially not by the end of Episode 3, and definitely not by the end of the season. When she finds him in the dungeon in Episode 6, she smiles from relief, and doesn't think twice to take him with her. Mizu finds him, at best, an annoyance, or at worst, an infuriating hindrance on her quest for vengeance. Which is why, when Taigen is about to say, "It's a shame our duel's set for tomorrow; I have to kill you before you get your revenge," Mizu whacks him on the head without a second thought before he can even finish his sentence, and leaves him lying unconscious, face-down, in the snow.

And this further emphasises how he does not hold any power over her. There is no abusive power dynamic between them. She is more powerful than him, he knows this, and all he's ever done after they've met up again in adulthood is get his ass whooped by her, get mad about it and pester her and follow her around, get his ass whooped by her some more, and put his life on the line to protect her.

"OOoooOOoooH b-but he called her a demon at the end of Episode 7 and threatened to kill her again!!!" Oh my god. He called her that because he's calling her out on her selfishness to stay silent about her knowledge of Fowler's plans to attack Edo. Because to him, loyalty and honour as a samurai is more important than anything. So in his own brash-and-immature Taigen way, he felt betrayed that Mizu did not hold the same principles. That's why he got angry. He wasn't even that mad about letting Akemi get dragged off by the Tokunobu guards. It was about saving the Shogun and the Shogunate as a whole. That's why the first thing he does in Edo is not find Akemi, but try to warn the Shogun about Fowler's attack.

Look, I'm not defending his stupid ass, of course. Because calling her a demon especially after their cute little wrestling time was obviously rude and inappropriate, especially since words like "demon", "monster" and "Onryo" have had such a deep effect on Mizu throughout her life, and continue to contribute to her self-hatred. But like? That's the fun of realistic and flawed characters, and realistic and flawed relationships. They're not perfect, and it's why we as an audience root for them, wanting to see them work through their shit and find a way to prevail despite it all.

Also, him saying that was in the heat of the moment. He was angry, he felt like his initial belief of who Mizu was—a strong and loyal samurai, just like him—was shattered, and so he lashed out. Was it rude? Definitely. Was it immature of him? Yes, incredibly. But it's also very much in line with his character, because even though he's grown a lot over the course of the season, the show isn't over yet, so obviously his character arc is just beginning, as that is also the case for the other three main characters: Mizu is beginning to accept herself, Akemi is beginning to grow into her position of power, Ringo beginning to train under Master Eiji, while Taigen is beginning to simply be a better person.

On that note, when speaking of Taigen's immaturity, I think that's also one of the main things that people tend to gloss over when it comes to his character. Because when you boil everything down to its bare essentials, Taigen is, essentially, a boy. I've talked about this before, but to reiterate, Taigen very much behaves like an unhealed child. Even as an adult, he is insecure, prone to throwing tantrums, and is desperate to latch onto some material goal in hopes that it will make him feel better—initially he was chasing status/glory/greatness, and then when Mizu tells him that "Nothing comes from being a samurai but death," he immediately decides he wants to run away with Akemi in hopes that he will be happy.

And it's a big step, acknowledging that he doesn't truly want greatness, but had always just assumed it was his only path to a good life. But it's clear he still hasn't really figured it out. Because if he did run off with Akemi to get married and live in the countryside, he still wouldn't be happy. Because he still doesn't know who he really is, or what it is he really wants. Marriage at this moment is the last thing he needs, and as he is now, he would be a pretty awful husband. A simple life would be good for him, but would he be good at a simple life, when he still has so much he needs to work through?

So anyway, what I'm getting at here, is that he's trying and he is learning and growing. So yeah, he is flawed, but honestly? So is Mizu. And the funny thing is that they're flawed in very similar ways.

Because Mizu is also an unhealed child. That's why she's so angry all the time. That's why she pushes people away. That's why she, just like Taigen, is so happy when given the chance to playfully wrestle in the forge, laughing and rolling around like children without shame or pretense.

Again, this shows there is no imbalance between them. They had grown up together as peers from the same town. And while Taigen had had the upper hand back then, because he'd had a gang of other kids with him, that is definitely not the case anymore. Today, they are equally flawed, equally strong, equally skilled swordsmen, and equally bull-headed.

However, yes, Mizu is definitely leagues more mature than Taigen. But she still holds a lot of childhood wounds that mirror Taigen's own. And we see this especially in relation to her mother. Similar to Taigen who had an abusive and alcoholic father, Mizu's Mama was an opium addict and had hit her, berated her, had shaved her head without her consent as a child, and as an adult, had constantly emotionally manipulated and guilt-tripped her. Mizu's love for her Mama was what had driven her to a path of vengeance in the very beginning. And when she'd found out Mama was still alive, she had wanted nothing more than her Mama's love, and it was this alone that pushed her to agree to the marriage with Mikio in the first place. And now, knowing from Fowler that her birth mother is someone else entirely, is what makes her agree to keep him alive and haul his ass to London to seek answers.

Thus, integral to Mizu's self-hatred is also Mizu's intense longing for love and family. Just like Taigen, whose pompousness comes from his insecurity about being the son of a poor fisherman, Mizu's goals are also shaped by who her parents are. Remember, her vengeance is not against just anyone who's corrupt or evil, but specifically against the men who she believes had assaulted her mother, the men she believes had made her a monster, the men she believes had abandoned her to die and continue to try to kill her. Her vengeance is against a father, on behalf of a mother. In The Tale of the Ronin and the Bride, Mizu is not merely the Ronin, the Bride, or the Onryo, but also the Child.

This is also why Ringo is so good, not only for Mizu, but for Taigen as well. Ringo is wise and caring and considerate, but above all, he is in tune with his inner child in ways that Mizu and Taigen are not. He is always earnest and positive, he sees the world with childlike wonder, but is not naive or blind to its ugliness. His whole life has been a battle. Ringo brings out the best in Mizu, consistently acting as her moral compass and conscience, and Mizu's choice to save Akemi in the final episode is only because she promised Ringo that she would. Because it's the right thing to do. Ringo inspires her to be a better person, and to think outside of her narrow-minded goal of revenge. At the same time, Ringo also brings out the best in Taigen. While at first Taigen had looked down on both Mizu and Ringo ("Half-limb to a half-wit"), by the end of the season, he's proud to have Ringo as a friend and ally, he listens to Ringo's advice ("What would Master do?"), and asserts to the fucking Shogun that Ringo is a worthy warrior to have by his side.

Okay, I've gone on a bit of a tangent here, but my main point is that Mizu and Taigen are incredibly similar. They are equals. They are both flawed, unhealed children who are chasing some impossible outlandish goal in hopes that it will fill the void in their hearts. They also both have a long way to go in terms of character development if they were to ever build a healthy romantic relationship (either with each other, or even with anyone else). So while I believe things will be rocky (because duh, it's a story, we all live for the drama, etc), I think with Ringo's help, they'll get there eventually.