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merakiui · 6 months

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The original Sleeping Beauty fairytale literally had the prince/king nonconning the princess instead of kissing her, and the reason she wakes up is because one the twins she gave birth to while under a sleeping curse sucked the flax out of her finger.

So yeah. Malleus IS perfect somnophilia material.

Yes!! The original fairytales are often far darker than the Disney adaptations. There's so much potential for the grim and gruesome, and so I'm happy that twst doesn't shy away from getting dark in the storyline, backstories, and even in events. But then I think it wouldn't seem like a school of villains if said villains were sweet and kind all the time. ^^;;; Kalim and Silver are exceptions because they're just too kind to be cruel. As for the others... lots of opportunities for yandere.

Malleus is truly the best for somnophilia scenarios because (not only is the dorm and character he's based on from a fairytale that included somnophilia in its original version) he's also abysmal at navigating social cues. So perhaps in his mind he genuinely thinks this is okay because you're not in any discomfort and your body is responding to his touch in such positive ways, and you've told him he's welcome to visit you and rouse you from your slumber if he wants to talk. To Malleus, this means you've essentially offered yourself to him.

Lilia could go out of his way to explain what it really means, as he understands humans substantially better than Malleus does, but why should he when Malleus is so clearly happy? Besides, his intentions aren't truly all that ill. He's gentle in his handling of you, so Lilia isn't worried. And Malleus can't help being drawn to you, to the way you seem so fragile and small in comparison to him and yet you stretch around his cock and take him so nicely!!!! <3 it may have taken countless nights of stretching you to ensure you're completely prepared to take just one, but now you can do it with ease (and one day you'll be able to take both at once). To your unconscious self, this is just the sweetest fleeting dream. You'll never know anything come morning, for he's magicked every trace of himself away. Every trace except for the dull ache in your hips. :)

#twisted chit chat #tw: somnophilia #n/sfw #this is another reason why i must write that dark messed up rollo fic #the poll was in favor of sparing malleus #and malleus... you should be spared because you are wonderful #but not in this fic >:)#i will make up for the pain malleus and darling endure by writing fluff or gentle smut :D #but in this fic there will only be pain and horror

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jazzzzzzhands · 5 months

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I was going to draw Dandy just sitting sweetly on a flower!! but then i noticed that there was just a liiiitle space next to them!! and Oopsie!! My hand slipped!! Pretend this @ is a big smooch!! @sketchy-tour

#oh ohhh tags!!#wally darling #dandy leon #jazzart #welcome home #ok ok ahahahahaha!#gosh i would have finished this so long ago if i didnt get so distracted!!#awaaaa i mostly wanted to draw my beloved friends lil puppet!!#but then what if!! oh just a gentle pinky touch!! oopsie!! >:3 #toasty toasty i know u are reading my tags #so i hope you will know that i uses wallys hair blue for dandys blush >:3c #dandys hair is so much fun so i hope u dont mind i scooched their hat just a touch back #oh i could not help but think #that their skin/felt colors? together is very froggy coded

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carnivorousyandeere · 6 months

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Alright more thoughts— specifically about Marcus with afab Darling and kegel balls. Please heed the warnings, this one’s fucked up

More Unethical Pelvic Floor Therapy with Marcus

( MDNI, No Age in Bio DNI )

CW: abuse of power, gaslighting, unethical medicine, intentional bad medical advice (leaving kegel balls in for extended periods can actually fatigue your muscles and damage them; any company suggesting you do this instead of actual exercises is working from pseudoscience. If it’s your kink to leave ‘em in a long time go ham or whatever… just know the risks), smut, dubcon, overstimulation, painful fingering, painful sex, mating press but no talk of actual breeding

Info: gn afab reader

Your physical therapists had recommended you start using kegel balls— “it’ll help with your mood and disgestion!” Said one. “It’s a great workout, helps keep you healthy,” nodded the second. The last insinuated it would improve your sex life— as if you’d had sex with anyone but the three of them since you started visiting their office.

None of them had really explained how you were supposed to use them, so you figured your best bet would be to ask Marcus. The other two would insist on “showing you how to use them,” and you’d just end up fucked out in one of their offices again. When you asked, he just laughed a little and pushed up his glasses, typing away at his computer and not sparing a glance, as if you should already know the answer.

“You lube it up, with as little lube as possible, and slide it into the vaginal canal. Then, it should rest rather comfortably near your cervix, much as a tampon might. After that, you just let it stay there for a few hours while you go about your day. Your pelvic floor muscles will contract as you go about your day.”

“Oh…” you feel your face burning. “Is that… it, then?”

“Mm?” Marcus finally glances up at you. “Yeah? You shouldn’t keep them in for longer than eight hours at a time. And if you think the ones we’ll be sending you home with are too big, or you experience any pain or unusual discharge, come back in right away.”

~~~

You made it a few days. The feeling was strange, though not unpleasant— at first. You could feel it inside you as you walked around, though if you ignored it the feeling began to fade. You did notice yourself squirming a bit more, finding it harder to get comfortable. You felt… full in a way you hadn’t before. Eating and drinking made the pressure in your gut all the more noticeable. You tried not to think about it too much, and took it out at the end of your day as instructed, even though the lack of a string to pull it by was a little difficult.

The second day, you had a little trouble inserting the ball, though not too much. You did notice a small ache as the day wore on, and that your underwear felt a little more… wet than usual. At the end of the day, though, you were able to take the ball out and relax.

You woke up hot and wet the third day. You felt a little tight, but the ball slipped in without much trouble. You couldn’t focus on anything, though. Your abdomen felt so tight and hot. You feared you might leak through your underwear, and had to come home early to try and compose yourself. But try as you might when you got home, you couldn’t get the kegel ball out. You’d gotten too tight, painfully so. Embarrassed and needier than you could remember being in a long while, you pulled your clothes back up and make your way to the clinic for Marcus’ help.

~~~

It doesn’t take him long to figure out what’s going on between your panicked expression and the sweat beading at your temples, even as you struggle to tell him what’s wrong. Marcus coaxes you to undress. You lay back on an exam table, and Marcus quickly dawns a sterile mask and a pair of gloves, spreading lube over his gloved fingers. You hiss and flinch away when his fingers ghost over your clit. You see Marcus’ glimmering eyes narrow over his mask.

“You kept that damn thing in for hours a day, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes, you… told me to…”

Marcus’ eyebrows shoot up. “There’s no way… that’s far too long… your poor muscles must be so fatigued.”

He slides a finger inside you, eyebrows raising even a bit further when the tip of his finger meets the kegel ball still lodged inside you. “You couldn’t even get it out again… poor baby.��

He ignores your pained whines as he slides his finger in and out, adding a bit more lube to ease you. He doesn’t want to permanently injure you, after all… You tense and tear up as a second finger begins to slide in. Marcus shushes you, holding your hip with his other hand and brushing his thumb over the skin.

“You’ll be alright, we’ve just gotta open you up enough to pull it out.” He scissors his fingers gently, working you open. His eyes rove hungrily over your form, following the tears that drip from your eyes and devouring your pained expression like it’s a fine dessert. His pants feel much too tight.

Eventually, Marcus is able to grab the small ball and gently wiggle it free. You let out a sigh of relief and slump against the table when his hands leave you, and the ball thumps onto the table then clatters away onto the floor, forgotten as Marcus’ hands come back to spread you open to get a good look. Your folds are wet and puffy, much more than from the lube. Marcus twitches in his pants, fighting back a groan.

You tense again, wet eyes darting to him in surprise when you feel his finger testing your entrance again. “M-Marcus, please, it’s too—“

“Sore?” He interrupts. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you don’t listen to me. And if I don’t massage out these muscles now, it’s only gonna feel worse on down the line.”

You whine, turning your face to the side as Marcus slides that finger deeper inside and slides his mask down with his other hand. He kisses your cheek, tasting the tear tracks there. You shut your eyes and nod. It’s all you can do.

Your muscles are just too tight, clenching painfully around around his thick fingers as he works them inside. He spreads you apart a little bit more, keeping up the pretense of helping to relieve the ache in your core, before his fingers find that sensitive spot inside you. You jolt at the feeling, a lightning bolt of strained pleasure that has you gritting your teeth through the stars in your vision.

Marcus shushes you as you pant and groan at the strange feeling building in your gut, his fingers working that spot ever more harshly. He reassures you that everything’s going to be okay. He kisses your cheek, your forehead, strokes your hip with his free hand. It’s the most painful orgasm you’ve ever felt, but the relief that follows as you gush around his fingers is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. You go boneless against the exam table, covering your face and willing your heart to calm down.

Marcus’ fingers still, but only for a moment. He curls them again right before you can catch your breath.

“M-Marcus, no, it hurts, I can’t-”

He curls his fingers harder, breathing in your pained whine as his lips ghost over yours.

“I’ll help you feel better, but you need to relax.”

“I can’t,” you sob.

“You can,” he insists. “Be good and let me help you.”

You sob harder, finding yourself nodding again, relinquishing control over yourself as you let him work you over on his fingers again and again. You feel so tired, so achy, the burning pleasure rubbing your nerves raw like sandpaper.

Marcus relishes in your cries, making you cum twice, then thrice, before losing patience and slipping his scrubs down to rub his cock against you. You jolt and cry out even louder as his tip brushes over your clit. Marcus bites his lip, fighting back a groan at the sight. You look so pretty, tear-stained and incoherent.

He can’t help running his hands up the backs of your thighs, slick with sweat, and pressing them firmly against your chest as he slides in. Marcus stays still for a moment, savoring how hot and wet you are. You’re so tight that every twitch of him inside you makes you gasp with the discomfort. He knows you’re only going to be more sore in the morning. The thought of taking care of you, so weak and helpless, only makes him twitch even harder, moaning against the shell of your ear.

#darling passing out #waking up with jelly legs unable to walk the next morning 🤭#Marcus taking care of them and offering to ‘kiss it better’… by which he means gently eating you out #but of course; gentle as he is the next day he still overstimulates you on his tongue again 🤭#so how much rest is it really? 🤭🤭🤭#oc marcus #yandere therapist #my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere cw #mdni #nsft #yandere smut

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darkgodcomplex · 11 months

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Yours

Wally x Reader Fluff

AO3 LINK

Content: Fluff, Kissing, Dancing, Gentle Love

You sip your tea in the kitchen as the summer sun sets on the horizon, casting golden rays through your window shade. Both you and Wally have just finished a very busy day. First, you helped Sally make paper flowers for her play while Wally, Howdy, and Barnaby constructed walls for the set. Then after that you and Wally met Julie and Poppy for a picnic in the park. Poppy made the most delicious strawberry rhubarb pie. Finally, you got to go on an exclusive butterfly tour with Frank and Eddie. You learned so much about butterflies from Frank. Eddie was just happy to be there.

You page through your book. Julie had lent it to you saying that it's the greatest depiction of romance she's ever read. You had only laughed and agreed to read it.

As you take another sip from your drink, you hear gentle music playing from the living room. It's a soft and comforting beat. You can't help but give a small half-smile to yourself as you stand and make your way over.

Peeking around the corner, you glimpse into the living room. Wally has the record player out, dancing slowly by himself to the music. He snaps his fingers to the rhythm.

"What are you doing?" You giggle at him.

"Who, me?" He pretends as if he's surprised to see you, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. "I was just hoping that maybe someone would show up and dance with me."

You rub at your chin, fake contemplating. "Oh gosh, I think I might have plans."

Wally slides in closer, hand wrapping around your waist as he leans in so that your foreheads touch. "You're going to leave me all by myself?" He pouts.

You laugh, lazily throwing your arms around his neck. "How can I resist that face?"

He gives a playful grin and tugs you so that your body is pressed against his. You can feel the lean muscle and his even breath. "You can't."

One hand finds yours while the other stays firmly planted on your waist. Slowly, you stumble around the living room. Wally isn't exactly the best dancer. You hardly even notice though.

His half lidded dark eyes stare down lovingly into yours, making your chest erupt with butterflies as he rocks you back and forth. You rest your head on his chest, letting him lead. He hums along to the beat.

You shut your eyes. With your ear pressed against him like this, you can hear the steady sound of his heartbeat. He nuzzles his cheek into your hair.

"How'd I get so lucky?" He whispers. You twist your face up so that you're staring up at him. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

Gripping your hand tighter, he takes a step back and spins you. He tugs you in again, this time your back to his chest. Arms hugged around your shoulders, he kisses your ear and then trails his kisses down your neck.

You shy away, "That tickles!"

He hums against your skin and then suddenly you're being lifted. You grasp at him in shock, gripping his shirt. You're being carried bridal style.

Strands of navy hair fall out of his pompadour, falling into his face. His lips brush yours as he speaks, "Would you rather I kiss here?"

You give him his answer by pressing your lips to his. His bottom lip drags against the top of yours, tonguing at your top lip before gentle biting on it. You tilt your head into the kiss, your hand finding the back of his head. You gently pet the hair there.

Wally takes his time easing his tongue into your mouth, making sure to tease you with his taste. When he finally presses inside, he sweeps up your tongue and plays with the sensitive roof of your mouth.

When you finally pull away for air, you're both breathing heavy, the tension in the room hot and heavy. Wally carries you over to the couch, gently setting you down before climbing on top of you.

Arms pressed heavy into the cushions on either side of you, Wally stares down at you. You touch his abdomen, feeling at the muscle as you make your way up to his chest. He lets you touch him in any way that you please.

"Hey," He says, his voice ever so quiet and gentle.

"Yes?" You ask, hand pausing on his arm.

"Mine?" He whispers.

"Yours."

#fanfic #fanfiction #wally x you #welcome home #welcome home wally #wally x y/n #wally darling x reader #wally darling #fluff #cute #gentle #kissing #gentle kiss #domestic fluff #love #soft

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autisticvampireclub · 1 year

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Messy sketch I had to get out of snake/naga!Wally giving his sweetheart a big ol squeeze <3

#welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #wally darling #snake!wally #art #my art #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #wally x reader #welcome home x reader #snake!wally doesn’t actually have any like. hard bones in his tail #he slithers around via magic reasons #getting squeezed would be like getting smooshed by squishmallows #which….. I guess that could hurt if you do it too hard? right??#but he’d be gentle

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astarionsilverbough · 7 months

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"It should've been him.

"I know - I know better than most - I know we are born to die. It is the - the natural order, the mandated law of your kingdom. All living things must one day return to the earth whence they came, yes, but -

"And I know it is the ultimate sin to seek life eternal. Mortal flesh was forged from the same magic as the earth that sustains us. But...

"Oak Father - would it be sin to seek it for someone else? Would that not be the greatest show of - of love, of devotion, of..."

Heavy silence.

"Because it should've been him. The sun dwelled inside his bones. What is the earth without sunlight?

"What is the earth - without sunlight, Oak Father? Please - what is the earth without sunlight, what - what am I without him?"

Knees crashland in the moss. Hands plant in the grass. The dew of morning has long been licked away by passing deer; tears glimmer where the blades catch them. Hold them.

"It should've been him," utters the bereaved elf, head bowed with the weight of the grief that falls from his lips; "death - should never have been allowed to touch him!"

His nostrils furl in a snarl. The beast bites at the back of his teeth.

And where were you, druid?

He breathed his last alone, afraid. They said he had over thirty wounds. Was nearly unrecognizable. Your sweet sun-star. Your Astarion.

So where were you?

Halsin grinds his teeth together until his jaw aches. A rough-hewn sob punches from him and he curls his fingers into the rich earth, packing his palms with its soft flesh.

The amulet around his neck swings like a pendulum over the wounded ground.

You let him run. You did not chase after your mate, and your inaction killed him.

Fire shoots into his throat, billowing from the mouth of the wicked demon awakening in his belly. Halsin's vision goes white with the heat of it. He can't let it out. There is no fire. It is only bile and saltwater from swallowed tears.

When he thinks of Astarion's final moments, something inside the druid Halsin threatens to combust. Try as he might, he cannot seem to force the thoughts to stop; the cruel imaginings of the way he might've looked when he was found, rigid body twisted with the agony of a wicked death.

He would've been so cold.

Was he cold when he died?

Was the last thing he saw the sheer hatred burning in his murderer's eyes?

When the roar comes, it threatens to shatter him. The beast claws at the cage of his body but it cannot break out. He remains horrificially human in the throes of a grief so powerful Halsin thinks for a moment he might actually be turning into an infernal thing, some wicked new demon that would ruin the world.

Breathe.

He cannot. The roar throttles him.

A soft breeze passes over his hair.

Breathe, darling.

Fractured shards of ruined air slice through his lungs. He chokes on the taste of blood. Another gentle breeze caresses his face, his neck, his chest.

That's it.

Breathe. Let it pass.

Come back to me, Halsin.

To what? A world without you?

Halsin.

I'm right here, darling.

The breeze becomes warm flesh. A breath of life floods Halsin's lungs, coaxed into them by the hand on his chest as his meditation finally breaks.

With a ragged sound, Halsin opens his eyes and finds himself gazing at the sun.

"There you are," Astarion hums, thumbing over the apple of Halsin's cheek with a small smile.

The vampire is propped up on his chest, sunset gaze weary but so, so tender. His soft white hair is bed-rumpled and there are little indents on his cheek from the creases in his pillow. Halsin is moving before he's even aware of it, one big hand sliding into Astarion's hair. The elf holds his gaze as he allows Halsin to roll him back into the sheets, pliant and trusting when the larger elf cages him down beneath the bulk of his body.

Astarion is alive. They're in their room in Last Light and Astarion is alive, skin gloriously sleep-warm under Halsin's hands.

Exhaling a ghost that never was, Halsin presses his brow to Astarion's. The elf reaches up to push Halsin's hair back from his face, gathering it in an idle hand as he nudges the bridge of Halsin's nose with his own.

"I'm sorry," Halsin rasps, "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Astarion chuckles and passes his fingertips over Halsin's lips. He kisses them on instinct and Astarion bites his bottom lip, smile darting close to grin territory before his concern chases it away.

"The only time you disturb me is when you apologize for suffering, darling," Astarion murmurs. "Your heartbeat was so frenzied it pulled me out of my trance - you were whimpering as if you had a paw caught in a bear trap."

Halsin lets out a faint sound. Astarion nods slightly and utters, "yes, like that," against Halsin's lips when the elf finally breaks and surges down to kiss him. The vampire melts into it immediately, eyes fluttering shut as he lets Halsin lick into his mouth.

No words come to him. That's just fine. Astarion knows him - he's borne witness to the aftermath of Halsin's strange, nightmarish meditations before. Memories, all of them; sometimes they're of the battle against the Thorms. Sometimes they're of Isobel, the way her eyes had gone big as her body registered the glaive splitting it open in the middle.

And sometimes, they're the memories of his worst moments of grief in the long between of Astarion's lifetimes.

He has no words because none would do the memories justice. He could tell Astarion how he mourned, how viciously he grieved, until he was blue in the face - it wouldn't matter. Not because Astarion wouldn't care, but because it would not unburden Halsin whatsoever.

It would only serve to cause more grief.

No - there was no healing in the confession of his dark moments between Astarion's lifetimes. Healing comes here, like this:

"Darling," and it's breathy and aching, "let yourself feel me, really feel me. Bury it here, sweet boy - let it be gentle, now."

The words ignite in Halsin's belly. Astarion slides his arms around the big elf's massive shoulders and kisses over his cheek, hairless thighs whispering against Halsin's hips. The vampire wraps himself languidly around Halsin with practiced ease, lean body blooming in an exquisite arch beneath him.

When the scent of the slick entrance beneath the jut of his long, half-hard cock hits Halsin, the entire world narrows and the tendrils of cloying agony begin to ebb away. Splaying a hand over Astarion's belly, Halsin cups the back of the elf's head in the other and noses down the line of his throat, mouth parting over the faint echo of his pulse.

"That's it," Astarion groans quietly, hips rolling instinctively as he grows even slicker between his spread thighs. He radiates a sweet, intoxicating kind of need, the kind of need that makes Halsin's head spin and his cock throb and weep dewdrops over Astarion's groin.

"I'm here," the elf exhales against Halsin's ear. "I'm right here, darling, feel me. Touch me, Halsin, please."

A clever hand slides over the one Halsin has on his belly and guides it lower. With an absolutely dulcet little moan, Astarion steers him around the hard line of his cock and down to his cunt instead, pressing Halsin's fingertips right to his slick entrance with an aching whine.

"Let it go," Astarion breathes in elvish against Halsin's mouth, beautiful red eyes flickering over his face to meet his heavy gaze. "Be here with me. Don't stray from me now, Halsin - not when we've found each other again."

An echo of the plea he'd given Astarion in the Underdark. Tears bloom along the seam of his eyelids as he kisses Astarion deep, two fingers delving gently into the wet heat of his body. He uses the slick caught between them to prepare his cock, drawing a membrane of glistening spend over the head.

Their moans collide between their mouths as Halsin sinks home. Astarion's cheeks are tinged with pink, ears burnt red; by the end, the flush will spread down his chest. Halsin thumbs over a hardened nipple and massages the nape of Astarion's neck with the hand still cradling his head.

"Halsin," Astarion groans - it's a dangerous thing, that groan, because it makes Halsin think he might be a god - "darling, oh - I feel you in my throat, you're perfect."

And this is how he heals.

It's:

"Faster," and Astarion growls it against his jaw, blunt nails digging into Halsin's back. "Faster - ah! Yes, fuck - oh, fuck, Halsin - sweet boy, oh -"

Every plea is a prayer, each cry of his name a hymn; Halsin pants like a beast in rut against Astarion's cheek, one big arm wrapped tight around his lean waist now as he drives into the tight clutch of his body. Astarion's belly is a battlefield of spunk and sweat, his pink cock still hard where it smears through the mess.

This is how he heals.

Not through broken confessions that only bring more grief, but:

"Yours," Astarion whines, and Halsin is groaning like he's been driven through with a pike as he fucks into the vampire, finally chasing his own release; "you know I'm yours, you know I've only ever been yours - come on, sweet boy. My beast. Mark me, leave yourself inside me."

And it's obscene and it's aching and Astarion is clinging to him as if Halsin is the tree the storm is trying to shake Astarion from. Blue-white heat spirals up and down Halsin's spine. His sac tightens. The golden threads of tension in his belly snap and Halsin's skin ripples with a fleeting fever as he buries himself inside Astarion, unbridled moans and whimpers pouring from his kiss-bruised mouth.

"Oooh," groans the beautiful, divine thing beneath him, body relaxing as if Halsin's seed was the medicine it needed to do so. "That was a good one, wasn't it? My sweet beast - look at me now."

Halsin does. Astarion smiles. There's a hint of smugness to his smirk and Halsin revels in the taste of it - whiskey and sunlight on his tongue.

Gold.

Everything about him is... Gold.

"There you are," Astarion murmurs, voice thick with praise. Halsin's throat tightens. He wants to die looking up at the face beneath him. There are still pillow creases on Astarion's cheek and Halsin, wrought with a far softer kind of agony now, puts his lips to them and utters a faint prayer.

"Well you're welcome," says Astarion, hands gliding absently up and down Halsin's back, "but there's really no need to thank me, darling - loving you isn't exactly a chore."

This is how he heals.

Not in the bitter confession of tormented memories, but the creation of sweeter ones.

#baldur’s gate 3 #the land of gods and monsters verse #halstarion #astarion #halsin #rambles #grief #mourning #intersex trans masculine astarion #mourning halsin #i love hurting this big stupid man #astarion is SUCH a darling when he's in love and it ruins me #he is very gentle and it makes me so emotional #nightmares #ptsd #ursa minor

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