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nvuy · 11 days

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confiteor (WILL YOU EVER LOOK UP AGAIN?) — sunday

summary. the bronze melodia is a position that requires weariness, empathy, and patience. unfortunately for sunday, he receives far more than he expects through the voice in the window.

notes. i’m ashamed. this is dedicated to the anon that held me at gunpoint and forced me to post this to tumblr. otherwise, you can read it here.

warnings. mdni. this is LONGGG it’s about 7k words. religious themes, religious guilt, explicit sexual content, very inappropriate use of a confessional, mild degradation but in a religious way, reader is AFAB i fear and uhh. indecent and guided mutual tug sessions, if you catch my drift.

“Next. Please, step forward.”

Sunday had heard it all before. Timid footsteps, hushed whispers, skin stretching as the person trembled and fidgeted. It was always confronting to sinners, to step close to his voice and absolve.

Nothing truly shocked him anymore. He’d fallen in a state of numbness, in taking this position. A Bronze Melodia, as it was called.

He’d heard murder confessions, perjury, disloyalty, misconduct, everything. He had to grow used to it; this was his job. To forgive, to press his fists into palms beyond the confessors' sight line, and pretend he was as all-forgiving as he appeared to be.

He had learned to hold his voice steady.

Sunday found himself absentmindedly fixing his sleeves, though they already sat perfectly on his wrists.

What he could never predict was whether the person behind the window was here to absolve, or to mock the Aeons. It was always a guessing game for him; perhaps that’s what kept him from straying too far from the path.

The position was tedious, though patience was a virtue of his. He liked to akin himself to an adaptable man, warping his words and honeying his rather monotonous tone to that of reassurance. A false promise of hope, if you will.

He was good at that. Humans were exceedingly predictable in most of their actions; he had learned as such and had tried to drill the knowledge and dangers of the species into his dear sister, too.

Humans were cruel. Robin had never believed him, even in the feats of his struggles as a child, how one of the wings below his ear was mercilessly snapped in an act of child’s play. Child curiosity, it was dubbed as, though to him, it felt more like hatred.

He remembered crying that night, with his right-wing bandaged by his caregiver, and Robin had to remain in his room and sing him to sleep.

Now, it was different.

Quiet shuffles of footsteps were heard. He could tell they were the last recipient remaining, for the muted idle chatter of attendants had faded, and the sun was beginning to set. Members of kinship and the like would return home and sin, and then enter the church begging for forgiveness tomorrow. A never-ending, boorish and lonely cycle.

How shy. He listened to apprehensive slow steps until he heard the click of sharp heels stop just short of the window.

“Come to me, my devotee. I have sought THEIR presence within us.” Sweet words, peppered with powdered sugar poured from his tongue. “Tell me… what ails you such?”

The quiet intake of a breath, sharp and hushed.

Curious, Sunday leaned against the interior wall, just barely closer.

When there was no answer, he added, “do not be afraid. I am here to forgive. I cannot judge you.”

Another harsh inhale.

And then, “I apologise, Reverend.”

“Not at all.” A small, gentle smile pulled onto his lips. You could not see him through the box, and he made sure to stay clear of the iron bars of the window, but he hoped you heard the warmth and comforting sweetness in his tone. “Are you new to the congregation? Your voice is unfamiliar.”

He heard the shuffling of clothes. A pause, and then a wilting, “yes– no, sir.” Another pause, longer than the last. “I have not visited the confessional, but I do sometimes attend service.”

Sunday hummed curiously. “And what has prompted your change of heart?”

He heard the tapping of nails against the exterior of the box, pensive and thoughtful. Rhythmic, like in time to a tune he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

The setting, orange glow of the sunlight, partially tinted a deep bloodied colour through the stained glass windows of the church, crept further through the bars of the confessional as it drew closer to the horizon. The light was warm on the lick of his fingertips that rested close to the frame.

The persistent tap, tap, tap sounded like an agitated display of impatience. Like a song of trepidation and dread, yet much too quick to be sorrowful. Excitement, perhaps?

Then, there was the hard swallow of a lump in their throat. He heard it through the wall.

“I fell in love with a man.”

Their voice, your voice, rang clear as if you were standing next to him without the muffle of the confessional in between his body and yours.

Sunday’s eyes flitted to the wall by his head as if he could see you through the wood.

He said nothing.

Speckles of dust caught in the setting orange sun from the stained glass windows.

“A beautiful man,” you continued softly. “Generous, kind, considerate…” Your voice tapered off like a votive candle flickering in the breeze.

Sunday remained quiet, choosing instead to focus on the soft beating of his heart in his ears, and the sound of your breathing.

There was another ruffle of clothes—a blazer perhaps? It sounded like stiffened cotton or something as luxurious as pure wool. He wondered if such a material could be purchased by someone so common. Wool was a fleeting thought; an easy purchase with the wave of a credit card.

There was a pregnant pause, as if you, too, did not know what to say.

“Is he a bad man?” Sunday inquired encouragingly, still soft and eloquent.

A hiss of an inhale.

“No, not at all.”

Still, nothing.

Sunday watched the wall for a moment, imagining a figure on the other side fidgeting nervously. He could hear the tussle of form-fitted clothes shifting back and forth as if the devotee had been unable to stand still.

“I offer my sincerest apologies,” he started gently. “But I fail to understand any wrongdoings in your confession.” He prompted his voice to remain even. Patience. All in due time. “If he is as truly good a man as you put it, then there is nothing I see to absolve.”

“It’s not him,” you tried. There was a drone in your tone, as if you were trying to defend yourself. “It’s who he is.”

“An unattainable man, I presume? Or, is he perhaps forbidden?” The pressure was light. He was not so much forcing or coaxing words from your throat, but to embolden you instead.

He heard you hum nervously in agreement. He thought it to be a reply to both of his questions.

“Is it his status?”

Another uncomfortable tussle of clothing.

“Yes, sir.” He heard you lean against the confessional through the strain of the wall. “He is a holy man.”

“Ah… a man of the church?”

“I cannot want what I cannot have,” you dwelled softly. “I know the answer is to let go, but it has been months, and I have grown worse.”

Sunday hummed. Quite the predicament indeed. Such a precious scenario, though. Somebody ordinary in love with the unordinary. So sweet, like fruit growing on a tree in a sacred garden.

The tragedy of unattainable romance was fleeting for the congregation. Even Robin, his dear sister, a truly devoted romantic at heart, could never commit herself to a person. To worship another, and to take eyes from Xipe, would be worth a painful, slow and torturous death unlike no other.

Grotesque and twisted, like the many priests before him, who had been slashed and severed for their transgressions.

To turn your back on The Family–

He willed the thoughts away.

“I do hear you. I pray for your struggles.” His gloves pressed to the window. “But, it is not unreasonable, nor a defiance of the Holy, to be in love with a man of the church.”

“That’s the thing. It’s beyond love, Reverend,” you said, hoarse and strained, like you’d raked a hand down your jugular. “It’s everything.”

The shift of clothes again. This time, a hand brushed against a zipper, though there was no tug at the clip. He listened attentively, like a song he’d never heard before.

The stretch of clothes around skin, the glimpse of an expensive leather shoe from the corner of his eye, and attire inappropriate for the church. Exposed legs, too much skin, a low neckline of a shirt. Patterned stockings following black embroidered flowers and thorny stems travelled up bare legs like serpents.

“I want to ruin him.”

There it was.

“I want it so he thinks no more of the Aeon he worships, and only of me.”

His lips only barely parted at what he was hearing. A startled quiet breath escaped him.

He heard the skin of your knuckles pull taught into fists. They tapped against the wood.

“But it’s wrong of me to think this way, so I humbly request your blessings, Reverend, even if I–” You paused. Sunday flinched when a hand pressed against the iron bars, dreadfully close to the feathered wings beneath his ears. “There’s something bad inside of me. I need your help.”

Never had he heard something like this. A sinner be so outwardly humble and honest in their speech; to admit that you were wrong. To admit that your behaviour was treacherous and ghastly.

And to pine after a man of worship and unbreaking devotion.

To defy the Lord. To fight teachings, to fight him and his words. A stubbornness like no other, and one so incredibly shameful and distasteful, and yet, you still carried a weight of guilt heavy on your chest.

Another shudder of a breath. Another pitiful, desperate noise. All to receive his good graces.

“I don’t ask for forgiveness anymore. I don’t think I even deserve your blessings, sire. I don’t think anybody does.” Maybe he would agree with you, and maybe he wouldn’t. Instead, he leaned against the wall and stared up towards the ceiling of the confessional. “I only ask to hear your voice.”

Sunday’s breath hitched at the suspicious sound of a zipper being tugged, roaming hands, far too purposeful in their placement. He didn’t wish to imagine where your fingers travelled.

Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut.

“If you have convinced yourself that nothing can be done, then why would you seek me?” he asked, a waver in his tone. His ear pressed to the wall again, cold against his warm skin. “…If you think you cannot be absolved, then I am unable to help you.”

“I want relief,” was all you said. You pressed against the confessional. “Blessed Reverend, I want you to relieve me.”

Sunday was at a loss for words. He was listening attentively again.

You did not ask for forgiveness, peaceful solitude, or punishment. He did not understand what you were referring to specifically, choosing instead to pull delicately at the tips of his gloves. They suddenly felt constricting, like they’d grown a size too small for his hands.

Usually, he’d refrain from mindless fiddling and fidgeting. Something was different now.

Something warm ran from the pit of his stomach up to his neck.

It was vile. Like a serpent’s tongue following the rigid bone of his spine towards the nape of his neck. Warm and forked, like a pitchfork wielded in the hands of the irreverent.

The slimy body of the snake would twist and coil around his neck, squeezing the delicate flesh, marring it, coercing more sweet honey from his tongue until you were writhing.

The localised swelling heat curling in his stomach burned hotter when your breathing faltered and strayed from its natural rhythm.

It faltered too immorally to be mistaken for a simple hitch, or an error in your presentation. It was not a reflection of apprehension, nor fear.

It was–

“Would you be honest with me?” Sunday asked gently. His trembling hands curled into fists, still pressed against the wall and out of view of the window. “I only ask one answer of you.”

“Of course.” Strained, weak, unsure. Another pathetic attempt of an even breath left your lips. The aroma of something rich and sweet wavered through the bars of the window. “Anything for you.”

How depraved. Indecent, perverse. Your tone was repulsive, and so incredibly honest.

He heard the sound of something slippery, like the swallowing of spit in your mouth, or perhaps something far far more obscene.

He was tempted to move closer, to bite at the hand that fed him.

Your devotion was corrupt, focused solely on the sound of his breathing from inside the confessional. You were not here for redemption.

The box grew warm with his shaken breaths.

“Then, pray tell…” His temple rested against the interior of the confessional, and something hot and vile stirred in his stomach, like fiery pits of devastation. Like claws from a being unforeseen by Aeons above. “Are your hands between your thighs?”

You let out a stuttered gasp.

Sunday closed his eyes and tried to control his shaken breathing. His perfectly fitted clothes suddenly felt too tight, too restricting, every crease and fold tattering and ruined heating skin.

He swallowed thickly, wings barely catching on the window of the confessional.

“I’m not–” Your hands abandoned their position and pressed to the window, the diagonal frames digging into your soft flesh. The pad of your longest finger shimmered in the setting sunlight. “–I’m wrong. There’s something wrong with me.”

His gloved nails dug into his thighs. The dove white trousers stretched with the pressure.

He could not see you fully, no, for if he could, he was afraid he’d throw the door open, drag you into his lap and satisfy that burning ache that ricocheted in his stomach.

“To think of you this way,” you continued meekly. “It’s disgusting and vile and I need you to help me.”

He had to agree with you, though his fingers pressed just shy of the borders of the window. He almost grabbed your hand and dragged his tongue up your finger.

He felt the same. Hot and sticky, clothes clinging to him like they’d been doused in glue. The feeling pressed into his burning skin like a fragrance of saffron and black peppers.

That seductively enticing aroma of your perfume that lingered through the gaps in the windows. Honey and dessert, and the salty smell of your sweat. He did not eat sweets anymore; that sweet tooth was long left to dust and decay, and yet his mouth watered.

He felt as though he was being tempted to bite into something that held dire consequences.

Desperate to relieve the burning below his skin, Sunday unbuttoned his blazer. “Do you wish to be absolved?”

“I–” He heard you shuffle. The telltale swish of cloth. The click of heels. You’d dressed up for him, even if he couldn’t see you, and you couldn’t see him. Even your painted nails he peered at; a dark navy blue, like the wings at his waist that stretched in relief when he freed them from the confines of his jacket. “I don’t deserve it.”

“So, why did you come?” he asked. The larger, navy blue wings were much too big for the small perimeter of the confessional, but anything was better than to feel as restricted as he was.

His gloved hands pressed to the window now.

He wanted to touch you.

God, no. He couldn’t think like this.

He wanted his fingerprints branded into your skin, to stain every inch of your flesh like cigarette burns, forever marring the perfection.

“To relieve myself.”

Sunday smiled, and it was pained. You heard it in his tone. “How honest.” His temple pressed onto the cool wooden box again, leaning as close as he could to your voice. “Aren’t you ashamed?”

His forehead pressed to the wood beside the window, out of view. The orange rays of the sun setting outside licked upon his fingertips that curled over the iron bars. The warmth felt cold.

“Very,” was all you said.

Sunday fought the urge to moan, pressing his teeth into his tongue and hissing at the pain.

This was wrong.

He couldn’t stop himself.

“Go on, then. One hand. Relieve yourself.”

He heard a muffled sigh of relief. Perhaps you, too, had pressed yourself against the exterior of the confessional. The only thing parting you from his body was a thin slide of wood.

A sacred sanctuary that you would reform from pure selfishness.

One of the hands on the window abandoned its firm grip around the frames, and he heard a quiet gasp.

It was quickly cut off.

“Let me hear you,” Sunday whispered through the window. A gloved hand raked down the side of the window, and his head knocked against the corner of the confessional. His halo suddenly felt like a crown of thorns, weighted and punishing.

He would indulge.

If you were here to ruin him, then he would indulge.

He heard a wet squelch that made him shiver. His other hand had absentmindedly crawled up his thigh, trembling to remain flat on the seat. The skin below his trousers was pulled taught and had grown sensitive.

You moaned, and it was so close to his ear that his spine snapped straight. His fingers brushed over his straining cock beneath his belt.

The awful, awful, yet so beautiful sounds that tore from your throat left him reeling for more. For his mind to fill in the blanks, squeezing his eyes shut tight until even the light from the window was shunned out of his eyelids.

“Slow your hand,” he whispered. “Enjoy yourself properly.”

The squelching slowed significantly after only a moment of hesitation. He heard you continuously pant like a helpless mutt, confused, perhaps frustrated, too.

The other hand still curled as tight as it could around the iron diagonal bars of the window shook with reckless abandon.

Debauch sin felt good. Like a drug. Like alcohol washing down his throat and filling his stomach. So, so good, like the slide of his hand up his shirt. His other hand, much less secure, fumbled with the golden buckle of his belt.

He wondered if you felt the same. “How will you sleep tonight?”

“I won’t,” you whispered hoarsely. He was sure your appearance was something to match the rasp of your voice. “I will toss and turn.”

As will he. He’ll lay on his side, tangled between freshly washed white sheets and feathered pillows, and touch himself. He knows it so. He feels the strain of his palm tracing along the hot skin, thumbing the beading slit while he thinks of your perfume.

His cock twitched in the confines of his pants when the heel of his palm knocked against his tip. So hot, and so difficult to breathe. This box was not made to entertain whores, nor himself.

Sunday managed to unbuckle his belt. The leather straps smack against the side of the box.

You’re so wet. He can hear you through the confessional, and a dreamy sigh escapes his nose.

“How many fingers are inside of you?” He couldn’t quite tell. His hands curled into fists.

“Just one, sire.”

Sunday huffed, thumbing the button of his trousers around his waist. The claws in the pit of his stomach had returned, scratching and marring the inner walls and slicing through the bubbles of acid, desperate to be set free. It hurt.

He could imagine how you felt. He could imagine everything; the rhythmic sound of a single finger sliding in and out of the pretty wet hole between your legs. Pressing your body against the exterior of the box, desperate to feel the cold wood against your burning skin.

Your finger being hugged tight inside of you, pressing and dragging along sensitive nerves deep near your womb.

He was a mess.

Hair frazzled, halo dimming and fading when the light angled into the box just right, wings twitching, battling a game of whether he was to wrap them around himself or spread out as wide as they could.

You must’ve heard the zip of his fly undone, for you gasped, and your finger sped up accordingly. That same wet squishing of your poor poor limbs trying to accommodate how shameful you’d become.

His teeth caught on the tip of his glove and pulled the material off. The white cotton fell to the floor uselessly.

“You must be so lonely,” you said to him through the window. “So deprived.” He felt the fanning of warm breath against his ear. “I can fix that.”

Sunday, attentively listening with glowing cheeks, slowly freed his cock from his pants. A sigh slipped past his wet lips.

A different sound echoed from between your legs, and you groaned as close to his ear as you could.

“I want to hear you, Reverend.”

His hand dragged up his cock and he moaned. It was a shameful display of sincerity, and he wished he had bit his tongue again. Instead, he panted against the wood of the confessional, and muttered, “touch yourself.”

A wet noise that made his hips shift forward into his hand told him your finger had abandoned your insides, instead dragging up to play with that precious bundle of nerves.

He heard the stretch of skin, the shift of whatever clothes you had kept on yourself, and what you had thrown to the side. You were leaning against the box; your scent was stronger, that perfume and something sweeter, mixed with the salt and sweat of your skin.

He only hoped your thighs were as parted as his were. One of the sides of his knees knocked gently against the wall of the confessional.

So wrong. So shameful, so blasphemous, to do this, to please you and please himself to the thought of you, and then exit the church as if it had never happened. As if he wasn’t trapped fucking his palm like a mutt in heat, unable to control the panting and the incessant whispers of groans that escaped his lips.

Cum beaded at his slit, sticky and dribbling down to the base of his tip.

He wanted nothing more than to heave the door open, taste the slick that ran down your legs, and then bend you over the nearby podium and–

“So wet,” he murmured through the window. The only response you formed was a whimper. “So shameless. Do you feel guilty?”

“O-of course,” you tried. It was pathetic between the hot coiling in your stomach, like a deadly serpent curling around its prey and squeezing. “Do you?”

Sunday tried to imagine a hot tongue cleaning the mess of his cock, tracing the cum pooling at the base and flattening against his tip, angling just right to press into his slit flushed an angry scarlet, like wine and blood.

He could imagine ruining you for any other man. To slam his hips up against yours, to drag the head of his cock along those plush velvety insides until you were sobbing, struggling to accommodate him. He imagined you’d be perfect.

If only he could do all of those things without repercussions.

Tracing the swollen veins of his cock while you played with yourself with wet fingers was already too far. He could foresee punishment on his behalf and yours. Perhaps death, though neither of you deserved such luxury.

He did not answer.

Instead, he asked, “will you return?” His voice was shaky at best, and filthy at worst.

There was a hopeful twinge to his tone. He prayed you did not hear it.

You hesitated. There was a waver in your tone. “I shouldn’t.”

Your voice sent his mind reeling. He was thumbing at his slit while his thighs trembled. When his palm was coated in enough of his cum, he continued dragging his hand up and down the head of his cock.

He was growing dizzy. “But?”

“But I will.”

“This shouldn’t happen again,” Sunday heaved. His hand grew desperate, wetter, and the urge to pull the door of the confessional off its hinges and take you on the floor and away from the stained glass windows where the sun peered through was filling his senses. He yearned to know what you felt like squeezing around him. “You should not let this happen again.”

“I need you, Reverend,” you confessed. “If I am honest, my sins will be atoned for. As will yours.”

“You will not touch me tonight, and I will not touch you.” It was final. Without room for argument, though he sounded somewhat disappointed.

“But what about tomorrow night?”

Sunday breathed against the wood, tugging at his collar and rolling his hips into his hand. “If you return, I will punish you for it.”

“You tempt me, Reverend,” you said through a moan. “I will think of you tonight.” Your fingers had returned to your hole. He’d recognised the noise, somehow more obscene than it had been before.

His cock ached with hatred. How you would feel dripping down him like an unsatiated whore, trying so desperately to ask for his forgiveness, to try and seduce Godhood.

He hoped you felt empty. He hoped you hungered for his cock through the wall, breathing erratic and loud as his palm dragged along the length of hot skin over and over again.

Ecstasy filled his throat and every vein in his body. Goodness, the edge was glorious. He pilfered off the side for a moment before he stopped his hand.

His cock twitched in agony and he let out a groan that tapered off.

“Don’t you dare cum,” he snapped through the box.

You whined, but your hand obediently stilled

“I would imagine you’re filthy now.” He pressed his forehead to the cool wood. The surface heated up along with his skin almost instantly. It was so hot here. “Use your fingers again.”

“How many?”

So obedient. He almost purred at your behaviour. “Two.”

Oh, he spoiled you. That familiar sound again, so wet and warm and inviting, and you were moaning and shivering around your own hand. He could imagine slippery slick pooling along your palm now, lathering your fingers like a thin paste.

His own fingers found the flushed swollen tip of his cock again. It twitched in his palm. There was a greedy puddle of cum forming at the base of his cock now, and he quickly wiped drool from his lip.

Already frazzled from the orgasm he’d denied just mere minutes ago, your breathing grew louder and louder, though not alarming enough.

“Touch yourself again,” he rasped out. His halo was now a liability, too ironic. His wings were cramped against the interior walls, desperate to be let out. Wet fingers rubbed along his tip in rhythm with the sound of your own moving against yourself, drawing wet slippery rings around that adorable swollen bundle of nerves between your legs.

He hopes you struggle to cum tonight without his guidance. It’s a fleeting thought, but it makes his thighs lock and freeze against the seat.

He hopes you never find any satisfaction in another man. Wouldn’t that be a spectacle? A mindless bumbling whore stumbling after a High Priest, another Bronze Melodia.

You were murmuring his name now in a never ending chant of prayer.

Saliva caught in his throat as he breathed.

“Rub that pretty clit harder, will you?” Still in tune with your second hand that had finally pulled off of the bars to trace around the rim of your hole. He tried his best to keep up with the noise, eyes still wound shut.

You were hopeless. Struggling at the ministrations like a squirming worm caught on a hook. Your knuckles knocked against the confessional before your fingers slid into yourself.

This was heaven.

He knew it so, no matter how wrong it felt. It was a feeling, not the real thing; never the real thing. Not after tonight, but he could live with himself, if he ended up buried inside of you.

His tip bubbled and drooled at the thought of it.

You taught him self indulgence. And as sinful as it was, as wicked as it felt to buck his hips into his own palm, slick with need and sweat and dribbles of saliva that had fallen from his lips, he loved every pull of his skin.

Oh, it was awful. And it was so good. So treacherous, so disgustingly unholy, so blasphemous and insulting to do this in the very place he’d learned to be sacrificial and sanctified. Where he’d sit on the confessional with a heavy halo and a light heart and try to feel for the heathen on the other side of the window.

Spills of moans and moans left your lips, fingers working at that pace he had commanded of you. Your palms must have been soaked in your own slick now, the delicate flesh between your legs swollen and dark with blood.

He wanted to touch you.

It took everything at this point to keep the door shut. Like a woman being tempted by a serpent to bite into a forbidden fruit off of a large tree. He was sure you would have also indulged, had he offered you a slice of the fruit.

“I’m–” You couldn’t finish the sentence. The wood of the box groaned beneath the shared weight. “I need to–”

Oh. The scent was delicious. The hissing of a snake in his ears, the watchful eyes of a nightingale from somewhere far away, the taste of a sweet fruit running along his tongue.

He hoped you returned.

“Go on. Isn’t that what you came for?” He dared to say more, but instead bit down on his lip.

You bit down first on the fruit.

You came much more broken than he would have expected, and his hands paused around his cock to listen to that gorgeous melody. The drawn out whine came out more as a sob, fingers still drawing tight and hard circles around your clit as your hole clenched around weakened fingers.

Such a beautiful noise. You sounded as though you were struggling through wet heaves, filthy soaked fleshed between your thighs, skin tattered in sweat and bathed in the sunlight just barely peeking above the horizon from out of the window.

You whispered his name like a prayer. A pitiful drone, as if you’d become fully aware of your transgressions.

Wet fingers returned to the window.

His hot breath cooled the slick stuck to your skin, but Sunday kept his tongue pulled behind his teeth. Did you feel empty? Did you want more? Did you also want to pull open the door to the confessional and take him in the seat?

Your voice was weak. “Sire…”

Your tone rippled beneath his skin. His face was on fire. His hand sped up.

“How close are you?”

A whine ripped from his throat. “So close.”

He heard you breathe a hoarse laugh and his feathers raised behind his ears, and it was still one of the most ethereal tunes he’d ever had the honour to listen to.

His wrist grew tired, but he pressed on, thumbing at the overtly sensitive tip and his bubbling slit that wept in tandem. He watched your fingers against the window closely, imagining the heat of your flesh curled around his cock instead.

His cock twitched and twitched in his palm, and his hips raised off the seat for a moment.

Sunday heard you swallow. A hum rumbled in your throat, low and pretty.

He was sure you could hear how slick he was. It was humiliating how hard he’d grown just from the sound of you.

The wings below his ears were crushed against the wooden wall. The bones ached, but he ignored everything in favour of the sound of your breathing so close to his ear.

The sun had now drowned below the horizon.

“Cum, sir.” What a pretty plea. Your fingers tightened around the bars of the window. “Please.”

Sunday gasped, his own knuckles pulling back and knocking the other wall of the confessional as his hips twitched and twitched and he squirmed and his cock felt as though it was going to burst.

He came then, almost weeping as his teeth sunk into his sore knuckles. The sharp vertices of his halo felt weightless and warm, and his shirt felt just as constricting as it had before he’d come undone.

It was like fire oozing from him. Cum dribbled from his tip and painted his palms impossibly stickier than before. What fell from his hands pooled into a puddle on the seat and he grimaced.

An angry and raw garble escaped his throat at your words; who were you to do this to him? How could you do this to him—his cock twitched again, this time violently, as if aching for another round. His palm pressed heavy to his tip, still flushed that beautiful scarlet, and fattened with blood, experimentally giving it another drag along his palm.

Sunday’s hips jutted forward into his hand again. A discomforting chill ran up his spine and remained at the nape of his neck.

Viciously, he tore his hand away from his cock, staring at his sullied hand as if it had betrayed him. Maybe it had, you see, for he had no foresight his body would succumb to such temptations.

His body should not have succumbed. He should not have succumbed.

This was beyond his teachings; cardinal sin and disloyalty to Xipe, whom he praised every night with withering and wavering hands.

And now they were tainted.

“Just a taste, Reverend.”

Sunday’s spine stiffened as if a hot metal rod had replaced the bone.

His skin ached and his teeth vibrated with disgust. Sacrilege. That’s what it was. Vengeful and spiteful, much unlike sweetened delectable fruits off of a tree in the Garden of Eden. This should not have happened. You shouldn’t have ever come here.

He had an inkling of a feeling, as fleeting and dull as it was, that you did not feel guilty for your actions.

His teeth gritted, and his jaw ached in accordance.

Wretched thing.

Sunday, disgusted in his actions, ignoring the beads of sweat pooling down his neck like pearls, held out the degloved hand tainted in his cum through the gap in the window.

A tongue curled around his fingers, hot and heavy, and dragged up from the tip of his nails to his knuckles.

He resisted the urge to make a noise, instead catching his tongue in his teeth and biting down enough to draw blood.

His cock was swelling with blood again, tip flushed and leaking once more. He refused to touch himself again. He had already ruined the tranquillity of the church. He had already ruined you.

Sunday’s fingers twitched in your mouth before they dragged down your tongue.

When he was sure you were done, and his hand was covered in your spit, he grabbed your chin and drew you as close to the window as he could.

There, he managed to catch a glimpse of your face.

Sweaty, mangled, ruined, and so imperfect that his cheeks fill with blood at the sight of you. Your image is ruined by the light from the still burning votive candles from the completed service hours ago that shines behind you, branding the crown of your head like a halo.

Sunday assumed he looked worse.

“You will speak of this to no one,” he rasped. “Not ever.”

“No, sir,” you whispered. There was an impervious grin stretched into your lips. “It’ll be our little secret.”

“The second I hear wind that you’ve been sharing this night with those undeserving, I’ll rip your tongue from your filthy throat.”

You exhaled shakily. There were stars in your eyes.

Sunday’s eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Of course.”

He let go of your chin and tossed you as far as he could backwards through the window of the confessional. You teetered, wobbly in your position of kneeling, before you briskly stood up.

He couldn’t bear the sight of bare legs, so he looked away and shrunk down into the corner of the box, out of view of the sunlight, and the barred window.

Sunday did catch a glimpse of those expensive shoes. Too expensive, too fancy for a church setting. Your clothes were the same, too form fitting to be dubbed appropriate in such a sacred place.

How could you appease to THEM if you were dressed to seduce their messengers?

He said nothing, did nothing, silently wallowing in pitiful hatred as white hot pin pricks of one thousand needles formed behind his eyes. His wings curled around his waist.

He let out a breath that caught in his throat.

“Goodnight, Reverend,” was all you murmured to him.

Your fingers retreated from the window.

Sunday attentively listened to the sound of your footsteps. He hoped he could be forgiven for this. He watched the ceiling with disdain.

When he heard you leave, and the telltale slam of the door shutting behind you, he retracted his hand still coated in your saliva and thumbed at the tip of his cock.

Your spit slid so easily against him.

He shuddered, and then he moaned. It echoed along the walls.

Silently praying for forgiveness, and covering his eyes with his other hand in the process, he drowned once more in solitude.

#$. after hours #$. the macrocosmos #sunday x you #sunday x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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teyamsgrl · 6 months

Note

Hi Jade!

Do you think we can get a neteyam x human reader with stretch marks? Like the one with Lo'ak?

thank you so much for the req! i love these kind of fics and am more than happy to do one for neteyam as well! it's so important to create fics surrounding natural things like stretch marks that become insecurities as it can prove as great comfort for anyone struggling. enjoy 😊

opposite view ✧ neteyam

°˖➴ warnings: fem human reader, established relationship, insecure reader, best bf neteyam, comfort and reassurance ofc 🥹 - yawne: beloved - mawey: calm/be calm - tanhì: star

it was difficult having a boyfriend that was a different species than you, for many reasons. you already looked different as it is, but the small things like your stretch marks made this feeling even more intensified. stretch marks were a thing neteyam didn't understand, it just wasn't relevant for the na'vi. he was never one to judge you in any capacity, but the lurking thoughts in the back of your head came to the surface and all you wanted to do was hide.

it was a shock to neteyam when you began to change the attire your wore, a hoodie being a rarity for you to wear considering the humidity of pandora. his eyebrows furrowed when you came from the lab with a hoodie on the first time but nonetheless didn't say anything, figuring it was just comfy for you. but as each day passed he became more concerned and more intrigued by your reasoning for it all.

late one evening you hear large footsteps marching down the hall of the lab towards your room, instantly recognizing the sound as neteyam. you quickly slip on your nearby hoodie having only been in a sports bra while tidying your room before creaking open your door. "yawne" you call out as you peak down the hallway, giggling at the way neteyam is crouching as he walks. "hey" he smiles and ducks into your room, shutting the door quietly behind him. "missed you" he whispers, bending to securely wrap his arms around your middle. "i missed you too, always" you whisper back, short arms wrapping around his neck as you bask in each other's warmth.

he pulls back slightly, eyes scanning your face before diving in, lips catching yours in a passionate kiss. you hum and let your hands run into his braids, fiddling with them as you kiss back. his tongue runs across your bottom lip, your lips parting to allow him in. your tongue glides against his, kiss deepening with every second. his hands that were once on your back were now wandering, groping and holding whatever was available. one of his large hands begins to push up the hem of your sweater, your foggy brain taking a second to register the action before you freeze up. he detaches your lips and speaks slightly breathlessly, "what is it?" his worried stare makes you well up, tears lining your eyes before they start to spill over the edge.

"hey hey..." he whispers softly, pulling you into his lap as he sits on the edge of your small bed. you can't stop the tears that continuously drip from your chin onto neteyam's bare legs underneath you. "mawey, mawey.." his large fingers begin swiping away your tears and coaxing you to take deep breaths. "you're okay.. what's wrong? what is with this sweater?" he inquires, showing you that he's already caught on and has been for some time. "it's the stretch marks, teyam.. i'm just- embarrassed" you sigh, pulling your sweater sleeves over your hands as if to sink into yourself more. "stretch marks?" his head tilts softly as he thinks, "those white lines, you know, on my hips and stomach.." he nods along as you explain.

"those? i love those... what is wrong with them?" his question is sincere, hands resting comfortably on your thighs. you sniffle, "they're just- ugly! an eye sore, just... unnatural" "i would say the opposite.. i think they're beautiful. you're beautiful and they're a part of you. maybe they aren't on every human, but that doesn't mean you should be ashamed of your body and how it works, even if that means creating stretch marks" his words soothe the insecurity flooding your mind, finally settling down. "it will take time, to not feel so bad about them but i will help you do that, anytime. you're beautiful, tanhì" you smile at his words and hug him tight, your body language showing him the genuine gratefulness you felt in this moment.

sure, it would take time to not despise the lines that stared back at you so strongly in the mirror but you knew it would be okay, especially with neteyam by your side. anything is okay with neteyam beside you.

534 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 4 months

Text

Secret Sinners Part 4 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I think I'm going to end Secret Sinners here but start like a idk season 3 or whatever for them raising their son together. No matter what we will see Demon Steddie and Y/N with their son. I'm just not sure if it will be here or a thing on its own.

Warnings: Demon Steddie X Human Fem Y/N, SMUT, soft smut between three beings that love each other :). FLUFF, the boys enter "the door" and have interactions with their son. Ellis talks about readers parents and Eddie's mom who have all passed (refers to them as angels). Boys go back home <3

ANGST, We get a visit from both of Steve's parents and they are anything but pleasant (they refer negatively to Ellis and shame Steve for loving Eddie and Y/N), Eddie talks about fears of becoming his father, Reader has a trigger moment due to events from last chapter and has a bit of a breakdown that they help her through (doesn't last long), Both boys go into a bit more details of what they saw with Mirage and how it still affects them in an attempt to comfort the reader (mentions of abandonment, death of a partner, being alone, some heavy themes), Reader talks about missing her parents so loss of a parent trigger for sure. I think that's it. We're got the usual mix of angst and fluff.

Word Count: 9174

Head Filled with Demons/Secret Sinners series here

Your eyes widen as the sound of shouting grabs your attention and you peak your head out of the room you were sitting in, meeting Ellis’s scared little face as he runs down the hallway to find you.

“Mommy… there’s an angry man stomping around. He’s scary.”

“It’s ok, baby, I’ll protect you. Just stay behind me okay?”

His black curls bounce as he nods, gripping the bottom on your shirt as you step forward and head towards the noise. A demon you didn’t recognize was grumbling as he stomped around, fuming as he scratched at furniture and threw a photo frame to the ground.

“HEY! Stop that!”

Red, glowing eyes met yours for a moment before dialing down and a growl left the creatures lips.

“You’re Y/N? You’re the pathetic human who’s with my son?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Bill Harrington, Steven’s father. You three should be ashamed.”, he spat in a disgusted tone. “I raised my son to be a powerful, strong solider who could lead any army. Yet he ran off with that freak and started fucking him.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Excuse me?! You don’t get to speak to me that way!”

“I’ll speak to you anyway I see fit! I won’t have you bad mouthing Steve or Eddie in front of their son.”, you retort angrily as the small boy hugs your leg.

“That thing is not my grandson. He’s part human which is so much worse than anything else my son has done. He’s pathetic and weak just like the rest of your species!”

A deep growl came from your side as another demon skidded into the living room and placed himself between you and Bill.

Steve’s eyes glowed as he stared his father down.

“Don’t talk about my son that way.”

“Well, well Steven. Look how far you fell. Being friends with a subordinate solider, killing a member of your team AND running away instead of facing the consequences. Getting captured and imprisoned as well as falling in love with not just one but two beings that are beneath you. You could have been great, son.”

“I AM great. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with Edward and Y/N. They love me for me without me having to prove myself. My son will never go through what I did by having you as a father. Now…leave.”

“Or what?”, his father huffed.

“Try me, dad. I’m much stronger than I used to be and I’ll do anything to protect them.”

Scanning his son over, he gives you three one last look of disgust before abruptly disappearing.

Steve quickly turns around and cups your face with his hands.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m fine. Ellis?”

When you tried to turn, the little boy wouldn’t let you as he clung to your back side tightly. His father tried to peak over you but every time he did the small demon moved away out of his sight.

“Sweetheart, it’s ok. This is one of your daddies.”

As he clung to you tighter, Steve blinked before transforming into his human form thinking it might make the young demon more comfortable as he slowly sunk to his knees.

“H-Hey, Ellis. I’m Steven…like your mom said I’m…I’m one of your dads.”

You feel your sons grip loosen a bit as he shuffles to your side and shyly takes in the man before him.

“I’m sorry you had to see all that.”, he gestures behind him. “But I promise, I’m never going to let anyone hurt you or talk to you like that. Just like your mommy you’re safe with me and your other daddy.”

Softly smiling the boy shuffles to Steve, opening his arms wide as he wraps his arms around his neck.

“Your dad is mean.”

Steve lets out a breathy laugh as his hands run through the small demon’s hair and down his face as his eyes fully take him in.

“Yeah he is. I swear I’m not like that.”

“Good!”, he exclaims as he gives his dad a big kiss on the cheek. “I hope my other dad finds the door like you did so I can meet him to. Grandma Munson says I have his spunk! I don know what dat means.”

Your eyes fluttered open as Steve bolted awake reaching out towards the air.

“No! No, no, no.”

“What?! What’s happening?”, Eddie yawned as he sat up.

“Steven, how did you do that?”, you asked.

“I was dreaming about a house and I heard my dad shouting. I’ve had dreams like that before but when I heard your voice I ran through it. Is he ok? He’s not alone there is he?!”

“Can someone explain to me what’s going on?”, the long-haired demon inquired now with slight panic added to the confusion.

“I saw him, Ed. I saw our son! He was so handsome and adorable. I can’t believe…”

“He’s definitely not alone. Ellis has told me before all he knows is my parents and Grandma Munson.”, you softly smile as you turn towards the other demon. “He said she told him he has your spunk.”

Eddie laughs through his teeth as he grins.

“She used to tell me that all the time. That I’m rambunctious with too much energy but she always said it like a compliment.”

Grinning, you kiss his lips before taking a shower and getting dressed.

“Hey, um, sweetheart, I was thinking we don’t have to go home right now if you just want to take a couple of weeks to rest. This last adventure was… was pretty heavy.”

“I know, Eddie, but I’m alright. Plus, I really want to see where you grew up and meet your friends and family.” As the demon sighs, Steve scans him over and just with both their looks alone you know something is wrong. “Talk to me, guys. What’s going on?”

“We haven’t been there is over 3,000 years. What if so much has changed we don’t recognize it anymore? Or nothing has changed and they will be prejudice against you as well as Steve and I’s relationship? Humans are thought to be weak in most realms even yours, princess. What about how they feel about me? What if some people still believe I killed Chrissy? Or what if they hunt down Steve for actually killing a solider? What if—”

“Honey!”, Steve interrupts as he sits beside him and wraps his arm around his shoulders. “Everything’s going to be ok. We won’t know unless we actually go. Let’s take this one step at a time alright?”

“Steven…you didn’t see what I saw when we were at that other realm. You both were dead. I saw you bleeding in my arms. I can’t…I don’t…I’m scared. And now that I know we have a son to protect, I’m even more on edge.”

“Edward, I agree with Steven. Everything’s going to be alright. When we’re together we can fight anything and I know Ellis would agree.”

Smiling up at you, he pulled you to him as he tenderly kissed your tummy over your shirt.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

After giving him one more peck, Steve rose to his feet and worked his magic to create the portal you needed to go through to their realm. Even with what you could see, it already looked different from the memories they had shown you. The sky seemed a lot clearer and the atmosphere felt more at peace.

The demon stepped through first, completely on guard as he scanned the area around him. Once he gave the go ahead, Eddie followed after him, sighing a pleasure filled sigh when he felt the wind hit his face. They both turned to look at you, extending their hands and you took them both, taking a deep breath as you stepped through.

############

They changed into their demon forms as soon as the portal closed before putting the hooded garment over your head just to be safe because even they weren’t sure what they were walking into.

“Well, one fear down. Good to know Mirage’s potion works.”, Steve smirks. “Now, where to first?”

“My uncles house is just down the way here. Knowing him even in all this time, he’d never move.”, Eddie rolls his eyes playfully making you smile. “We can walk it. I feel like flying right now may draw too much attention.”

Nodding, Steve took your hand as he trailed behind the long-haired demon leading the way. You marveled at the area around you, surprised by how much it genuinely looked like any other small, old Camelot style town. When you showed them The Princess Bride, they had mentioned how some of the set pieces reminded them of home but you thought it was mostly just the castle.

All the memories they had shown you were mostly of the battlefield and the area around their base so seeing their little town made you smile as you pictured small Edward and Steven running around.

After a short walk, you three enter a secluded area out of the way about a good short distance from the town you had just passed through. His uncle’s home was rather compact, looking like it would be bit of a squeeze for you let alone two demons like him and Eddie.

“What?!”, a gruff voice called from the other side of the door that the metalhead had knocked on.

“Open the door, you grumpy old demon!” The sound of the things falling filled your ears before the front door finally squeaked open. “Hey Wayne.”

Without saying a word, his uncle tackled his nephew into a strong bear hug as he held his head to his shoulder. You could see Eddie’s own shoulders shake as he cried wrapping his arms around him tighter.

“I missed you so much, kid.” Pulling him back, he scanned his face as if making sure he was really there and this wasn’t dream. “When I got Y/N’s letter, I still didn’t think it was real that you were safe, but I never gave up hope.”

The young demon’s head turned to you as you softly smiled.

“That day Dustin left, I gave him letters to give to Wayne and Robin telling them what had happened and that you both were free. I just wanted them to know you were okay.”

Cupping your face, Eddie kissed your lips as Steve tilted your head to do the same.

“Wayne, this is Y/N.”

After giving you a big hug as well, he ushers everyone inside to hear all the stories you three had to tell.

***

“Geez, you’re very brave, Y/N. Not many beings let alone humans have gone toe to toe with Henry and survived.”

“I love them and I’d do anything for them, just like I know they would for me.”, you beam as Eddie pets your head.

A knock on his door startles everyone except Wayne who smirks with a slightly mischievous grin.

“Steven, can you get that for me, son?”

When he does what he’s asked, his brows furrow when no one is standing outside. Walking out in the grass, he looks around confused before suddenly disappearing from your view as he’s tackled to the ground. Panicking, you run to help only to find a figure you recognize punching the demon’s arm lightly as he flinches.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Scare. Me. Like. That. Again!”, Robin scolds, hitting him between each word. Smiling wider than you had ever seen, Steve wraps his arms around her and gives her a hug that she reciprocates. “I missed you, Dingus.”

“I missed you to.”

Dusting off her pants, she bounces to her feet before helping him to his.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Robin.”, she smiles, hesitating as she reaches to shake your hand.

“Oh, you can touch me.” To prove your point, you close the distance by giving her a hug as well.

“Wow. You are incredibly soft.”, she muses as she leans forward to hug you again.

“Hey, hey, hey. This one is ours; find your own.”, her friend teases pulling you out of her grasp as you giggle.

***

That night you feigned sleep to allow both boys some private time with the two people they loved most. As you sat on the bed in Eddie’s old room, you couldn’t help but listen as Steve and Robin sit outside, drinking a beer, and talking by a campfire Wayne had made.

“Nah, I’ve been really good. Settled down with this beautiful woman who owns the bar in town. Demons here can still be rude as hell but the town has gotten a lot more tolerant when it comes to beings like me.”

“That’s good to hear. That was one of our concerns about coming back since Eddie and I are together now to.”

“WHAT?!”

His eyes widen as she excitedly pushed up onto her knees waiting for him to tell her more.

“I thought…you knew…Y/N wrote you guys…”

“She wrote me a letter telling me what happened and that you were safe. She didn’t once mentioned that you were in love with Eddie! Oh my god. I’m so happy for you; all of you. Was it kind of awkward the first time with you two?”

“Um, no actually. It kind of felt right, to be honest.”

“Yeah, that guy is a good dude.”

You grinned as they giggled like kids before a throat clearing caught your attention.

“Hey. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“No, not at all, Wayne. Come in, please.”

The demon smiled as he entered the room and took a seat beside you as he sighed.

“I just wanted to thank you again for what you did. I, uh, I missed him so much.” Nodding, you circled your arms around his neck and give him a tender hug as he patted your arm with his palm. “I’m sorry, it’s still weird that I can touch you and you’re not scared of any of us in this form. I heard humans can be quite jittery when it comes to demons especially when they look like us.”

“You’re not wrong. I was scared of them when I first saw them but I wanted to get used to them in this form because it’s who they are. To me, they are so handsome and so are you.” Wayne blushes as he sarcastically rolls his eyes making you laugh. “Their personalities also help especially since they are protective and kind to me.”

The demon’s soft red eyes scanned you over as your own gaze shifted away into a memory.

“Eddie told me about Mirage… how you saw them like their fathers. His dad was my brother so I have some insight into how his dad could be. I promise you that kid out there is nothing like that and Steve definitely isn’t anywhere close to Bill.”

“I know. It’s just…so hard to shake the image. It felt so real and I was so…terrified.”

“I can understand that.”

“What was Eddie like, Wayne? Growing up.”

“A bit of a pain in the ass if I’m being honest.”, he jokes as you laugh. “He was always a sarcastic little man with a good heart which Allen hated. Edward kind of always had a knack for music. His mother used to sing to him all the time and play instruments for him. I truly believe he inherited his abilities from her.”

“Oh, so that thing he can do with his guitar…that’s genetic?”

“Kind of. Elizabeth’s voice was always soothing to anyone but not enough to lull them the way his does. I believe he utilized that trait and learned how to wield it the way he does.”

“That means Ellis may have that gift to.”

“So, it’s true? You’re pregnant.”, Wayne asks, grinning when you nod.

Eddie’s uncle flashes you another polite grin before patting your knee and rising to his feet.

“I’ll let you rest but, yeah…I’m glad to have you as a part of our family.”

***

Yawning, you stretch your arms and open your eyes to find your son leaning against the bedroom door.

"Ellis, what are you--"

"Shhhhh!”, he scolds as he waves his hand gesturing you over. As quietly as possible, you climb out of bed and sink down to your knees, placing your ear on the door facing him. “Granma Munson is talking to daddy.”

“I’m scared, mom. What if I turn into what Y/N saw—”

“Edward Munson, you and I both know you are nothing like him.”

“I’m capable of it. I used to be such an asshole. Even when we first met Y/N, I wasn’t exactly kind.”

“Look at what you went through, sweetheart.”, she cooed. “Let me ask you something. In all the time you knew Steven, did you ever hurt him? No? And when you fell in love with him, did that change?”

“No. The thought never even crossed my mind…”

“What about with Y/N?”

“I was always afraid of hurting her because she was so fragile but after what SHE went through… Mom, I just love Ellis so much already and it would kill me if he was ever afraid of me like that.”

“You have nothing to worry about, baby. Trust me. You should meet him. He’s so much like you; funny, sweet, energetic, and very protective of his mom.”

“I-Is he here? I don’t have a…a door…like Y/N.”

Rising to your feet, you take hold of your son’s hand and open the bedroom door, taking slow steps down the hallway as he lags behind.

Elizabeth shifted into her human form and Eddie followed suit without question.

“He’s not quite used to the demon form yet but I imagine growing up seeing you guys as yourself he will.”, she grins as you both come into view. “Ellis, come here and meet my son. He’s the one I’m always talking to you about, remember?”.

“My daddy…”

Eddie releases a shaky breath at the sound of the little boy’s voice as you try and push him lightly forward. The demon’s chocolate hues scan him over, taking in every little detail as his son does the same before a big smile stretches across his face.

“Granma says you’re good with guitars. Will you teach me?”

“Yeah, yeah, buddy. I can teach you. Holy shit.”, he curses as his palm caresses the boy’s face. “You have Steven’s smile.”

“He laughs like you though.”

“Yeah, he does.”, Eddie’s mom agrees with you.

Both beings chuckle at the same time making you two grin as they prove your point. As he did with his other father, Ellis circled his arms around the demon’s neck and his dad promptly held him tightly to him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“I love you, daddy.”

Eddie shot up wrapping his arms around his chest as if he was still clinging to his son. Sitting up beside him, you tried to comfort him as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Where…how… is he…”

“It’s ok, baby. He’s fine, trust me. Everything’s ok.”, you soothe as you rub his back. “Now how did YOU do that?”

“I…I don’t know. Being back here with Wayne and I talking about my mom… I just started dreaming about her and the next thing I know you’re both there.”, he exhales as he runs his fingers through his hair. “He has your voice. It’s so beautiful hearing something so soft come out of…us.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not exactly pretty, honey.”, Steve answers as he sits up in bed beside you both. “Everything here, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, is rough. Rough elements, rough exterior, rough tones.”

“It’s part of the reason our kind can be so cocky when it comes to other beings but especially humans. You have your wars and violence but that’s nothing compared to our history. We’re monsters.”

“I don’t think that and you’ve been soft with me before.”

“Because we had to. You’re not fragile anymore. I mean, not that you were exactly. I’m just saying—”

“He’s just saying you experienced the difference after you first drank that stuff.”, Eddie chuckles. “Even the ‘demon way’ wasn’t exactly like that right, princess.”

“We should go see Dustin today. Maybe those little weirdos found out some things. I’m kind of curious myself how he’s blended together.”, Steve mused as he got out from under the covers and started getting dressed. “I mean Ellis has our horns, wings, things like that and your voice but his eyes and skin are a mixture of all three. It’s fascinating.”

“Wait. Steven, I thought, maybe, we’d visit your mom.” The demon freezes in place as you continue to speak. “You haven’t seen her and I’m sure she misses you.”

“Plus, your douchebag dad won’t be there to cause problems. What?!”, Eddie flinches as you lightly smack his arm.

“Um, yeah. I guess…I guess we can do that. Let’s, uh, let’s do that after Henderson’s. I really want to find out more about our son and how this pregnancy will work for you.”

################

Dustin was ecstatic when his friends knocked on his door, beaming wide as he wrapped his arms around you before inviting you three into his home.

It was a modest little dwelling that you would compare to mobile home in your realm. It stretched a good size across his little space of land allowing each his two older boys to have their own room while his twin girls shared a room together. Suzie was a delight, filling you in on some trivia when it came to her and the love of her life while the boy’s talked.

When it was time for the kids to go outside and play, you sat in their living room eating the food you guys had brought along with you as the young demon spread out documents on the floor while the other two demons stood over him.

“To be quite frank, we didn’t find much on demons like us impregnating a human. To be fair, like you said the creepy vision lady told you, humans can’t get pregnant from us unless they have that potion which only two people in existence have. But, we did find some things about other realms having babies with humans and those beings were, in essence, an extension of us, so to speak. Honestly though, I wouldn’t take much stock in it as it sounds like something from a horror story than ground in any kind of reality.”

“So, you found nothing then?”, Steve inquired with a tone.

“Uhhhh, no, but Michael and I did some research into human anatomy. They reproduce similar to us—”

“Obviously.”, Eddie cuts him off making you smirk his way.

“IN THE SENSE OF, they carry for 9 months, feel the kicks, and cravings…all that. Since demon babies aren’t born with all the accessories, she should be able to have him naturally. My concern would only be her health but with the potion, I’m not sure how that works.”

“What do you mean?”, you ask.

“I mean, we don’t know what a being like us can do to a being like you internally. For example, you’re eating food; we don’t eat food.” You immediately pause as you lower the sandwich in your hand. “If we do eat we become incredibly sick like food poisoning so to speak but you need to eat, Y/N, and we aren’t even sure yet if he will want food since he’s half you. The contractions and labor without the potion would have killed you but now…we just don’t know.”

“Did you find out why he looks like both of us? Especially since like you said our reproduction is just like theirs.”, Steve muses as he sits next to you and encourages you to finish your meal.

“Personally, I think it’s just…super sperm.” Both demon’s narrow their eyes at the young boy as you laugh. “I mean, come on. Our little guys are pretty powerful. I’m not surprised both your soldiers got through.”

“Ok, ok.”, Eddie cringes as Dustin shrugs. “Good thing we don’t eat food because if we did mine would be the floor from hearing you say shit like that.”

“No matter what, it seems like it’s all trial and error from this point forward?”

Henderson nods as his eyes meet yours at your question.

“Exactly.”

***

“Geez, I never thought I’d see this house again.”, Steve mutters under his breath as his gaze drifts along his childhood home.

Knocking on the door beforehand to no response, he slowly squeaks it open as the three of you enter the cold feeling mansion. His parents had a gorgeous, Beverly hills style dwelling that seemed just a rung below the castle you had seen in the memories they had provided.

“Mom?!”, Steve shouted and was once again met with silence.

You couldn’t help but smile as your fingers grazed photos of what you assumed was little Steven hugging his mother tightly as she kissed his forehead, his grin almost a duplicate of Ellis. As you unintentionally detached from them, your eyes remained focused on the wall beside you as you took in each photo before you. Gradually, your heart slowly broke as you noticed that smile slowly fade off his face especially in images he shared with his father.

After coming to the end of the hall, you were met with a door you very much recognized. Instead of being tossed through this time, you were able to open it and walk into the study, taking in the fact that it looked exactly the same as Mirage had shown you. Even the maps were still pinned on the wall above a desk that had a bottle of something you presumed to be liquor.

It was almost like one of their memories as you envisioned a tiny, beaming Steve sitting on the floor, playing with toys as quietly as possible while still being near his father, a man he so desperately wanted approval from.

“Goddamn it…JANET HARRINGTON! Come get your loud child out of my study! I’m trying to focus.”

“I’m sorry, daddy. I’m just…trying to practice being a solider like you were!”

“Ugh, stop calling me that. You’re not a baby. Grow the fuck up and you’re not going to be anything playing with childish toys like this! I swear, Steven, you’ll never be good at anything if you don’t use your fucking brain.”

The feeling of a hand on your shoulder startles you as your arms flies and smacks someone hard.

“Ow! Fuck me! It’s ok, Y/N! You’re alright.”, Eddie winces as he holds his palm over his cheek. It takes him a few seconds to realize something was amiss as he watches your eyes dart around the room. “Sweetheart?” As he takes a step forward, you flinch as you fold into yourself and away from him making his heart shatter. “STEVEN!”

Sliding down to the floor, you cover your ears as the long-haired demon helplessly follows your decent as he listens to you whisper to yourself.

“What?! What happened?!”

Without hesitation, Steve falls to his knees and reaches for you to comfort you before pausing when you curl tighter into yourself.

“My Edward and Steven would never hurt me. My Edward and Steven would never hurt me. My…This isn’t real. It isn’t real. Isn’t real…”

“Y/N, honey, it’s us. It’s ok. Everything is ok. This isn’t one of Mirage’s test, baby. We beat her. YOU beat her. It’s ok.”

Red light flashes as Eddie shifts into his human and Steve quickly follows suit.

“Look at us, princess. The demon’s you met and fell in love with. We’re right here and you’re right, baby, we’d never hurt you.”

After a few more moments, you blink and look up to meet their soft, worried faces. Abruptly, your arms circle tightly around Eddie’s neck and his hand pets your head as he feels your hands shake against his back.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. I just—”

“Shhhh, hey, it’s ok, Y/N. Everything is ok.”

“Steven?”

The demon turns at the sound of his mother’s voice as he, out of habit, rises to his feet to greet her.

“Mom. Hey. I hope it’s alright that we—”

Her arms wrapping tightly around him cutting him off as she presses her head to his chest and sobs.

“I never thought I’d ever see you again.”, she whispers as the demon holds her tightly to him.

***

Steve picks up the funeral picture of his father as he grimaces at the formal image. His dad had posed for this photo long ago due to his occupation stating that when he died this is the image he wanted displayed above his grave and in the halls of fallen soldiers.

“I keep that one by his armor because I know that’s what he would have wanted.”, his mom explains as she offers him a drink that he declines.

“How did he…?”

“He would tell you in battle but truth of the matter is he was old and sick. After everything… he, um, on his last day he insisted on fighting and took out a good few of the enemy before passing.”

“Hm. You see it as honor, I see it as stupidity. He raised me to be a solider and as one I can assure you him doing that could have put his command in danger.”

“So, that’s your girlfriend out there? She seems nice. A bit timid but—”

“She’s been through a lot but I assure she’s incredibly strong.”, Steve sighs as he leans against the desk and folds his arms. “Why are you still here, mom? This place is too big for you to be alone.”

“This is where you grew up, sweetie. I have so many good memories here with you and your dad.”

“Yeah but more bad than good. I hate the idea of you being alone surrounded by all that.”

“I’m not alone anymore though. You’re home.”

“We aren’t staying here.” Her eyes shoot up and lock with his at his words. “I mean, the three of us need to talk about where we are staying exactly but I don’t think it’s good for the four of us especially Y/N to be in this realm after what I just saw.”

“Four?”

“Yeah. You’re, um, about to be a grandma.”

Her shocked expression paints her face as she gets up and refills the liquor in her glass.

“She’s a human.”

“She fought for a way to be with us forever because of that we were able to—”

“No, Steven, I mean…she’s a human. Your father would roll over in his grave if he found out you were starting a family with someone beneath you. You deserve so much better, baby.”

The demon blinks as he gathers his thoughts, not surprised by her reaction but still bewildered after everything they had been through that she could still side with his father. Shaking his head, he started to walk away but she quickly got up to stop him.

“Please, sweetheart. I’m just telling you the truth. You’ve been away for so long. Why don’t you just let Edward have her and the baby and you can stay here with me for a few years. Trust me, you’ll realize we were right and you can settle down with a nice girl—”

Yanking out of her hold, he stalks down the hallway, his eyes glowing a bright red as he turns into the living room where Eddie was holding you to allow you some time to breathe while he talked to his mother.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

“Is everything alright?”

Another set of red glowing eyes entered the area as Steve’s mom growled and poked the demon’s chest hard.

“Everything is not alright! You took my son away from us by meddling where you didn’t belong! You are just like your peasant father causing problems everywhere you go! Goodness, the hubris you must have to meddle with lives above your station! Do him a favor, take your human, and that thing and leave my son alone!”

All three demons in the room glared at each other as yours stood protectively in front of you.

“My son isn’t a thing and neither was yours.”, you sighed in frustration as you shoved your body between them to place yourself in front of his mom. “I saw it… I’ve seen Steven’s memories. All the pain you both put him through but especially you. More than anything he just wanted you to stand up for him and defend him against his dad but every time he called him stupid or made him feel worthless, you did nothing. Even when he went missing, his friends went looking for him but not you two. Why?”

His mom exhaled as her eyes softened.

“Bill said this was his punishment. After he killed a fellow solider and deserted with a murderer…he deserved to be banished.”

“You didn’t want to even find out what happened? Learn where he was?”

“I was afraid of what I would find...”

“Hm. And I’m weak.”, you sass.

Her eyes glowed again as she turned towards you and you matched her as you stepped forward.

“Hey, no. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”, Steve encouraged as he grabbed your arm.

“Steven, please!”, his mom begged.

Chuckling under his breath, he turned to face her.

“You insulted the two people I love and called my son a thing. I’d rather go back in that fucking stone then stay here.”

###############

Something loud crashing into the wall shakes you from sleep as you sit up in bed and hastily run out into the living room of the home you had been visiting so many times in your dreams. The are was trashed with furniture flipped and glass broken everywhere. As you looked around you, Steve and Eddie skidded into the area as their eyes scanned yours trying to figure out what’s going on.

You glance down a hallway and bolt towards the sound of chaos before coming to a dead stop when you round the corner, finding a tiny frame hurtling a bed out the window.

“Ellis!” The little demon turned around at the sound your voice, his glowing eyes immediately calming as he runs to your arms. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

As both his fathers came into view, his eyes glowed again as he placed his small body in front of your own.

“You…LIED!”, he growled as he pointed their way.

“Buddy—”

Eddie pushed Steve out of the way and to the ground as a large object flew in their direction.

“You said we were safe with you!”

“You are, Ellis! We would never hurt you or your mom.”

“LIAR!”

As he charged their way, you quickly placed your body in front of theirs.

“Hey! This is not how we behave when we’re upset. We talk to each other. Now, what happened?”

The little boy roared towards the ceiling as he expanded his wings and flew out the bedroom door. Steve was faster, practically tackling him while still protecting him with his body as they both hit the floor. Ellis tried to wiggle out of his hold but his father remained steadfast as he held him to his chest.

“You know I used to destroy my makeshift house to when I was angry.”, he said softly in a human tone as he shifted. “Your dad spent sooooo many years listening to me cry and throw things but do you know what helped me? Knowing I could talk to him and he’d listen. Knowing that he loved me no matter how angry I got.”

You and Eddie sat on the floor in front of them both as he continued to try and squirm away but with less force than before.

“You lied. You said you wouldn’t hurt us. Mommy was afraid of you both. I felt it!”, the boy shouted as he pointed towards your tummy.

“Baby, I…that’s a little complicated to explain. I’m not afraid of them. I promise, these two demons here would do anything to keep you and I protected.”

“But, mommy, it was strong and I was so worried about you! Granpa and granma said you were ok but I told them they have to say dat because they are your mommy and daddy.”

“That’s very fair. Grandma used to say your grandfather spoiled me too much.”, you giggle making a small smirk appear on his lips. “When I was your age, I used to get hurt all the time but grandpa always reminded me that my mom was a ballerina. If someone who can dance on their tip toes can fall and get back up then I definitely could.”

“On her tip toes?”, he asked with wide eyes.

Grinning, you rose to your feet bringing Eddie with you as you clung to his arm.

“Oh, I may be too old for this now.”, you laugh as you try and balance onto your toes before stumbling into the demon’s chest.

“Wow. You suck at this.”, the long-haired demon teases in a light tone.

“Oh, ok, Mr. Guitarist. You try it.”

Ellis and Steve laugh as he obnoxiously raises his hands in the air like a typical ballerina and tries to do the move until stumbling over himself.

“Look, I work with my fingers not my toes.”

Taking your son’s hand, you bring him beside you as you four continue try and fail. After falling to the ground, he cackles as he grabs his stomach.

“Maybe only angels can do it!”

His words hit you hard but you shoved down the emotion as you kneel down in front of him.

“Ellis, your mom and dads have been through so many adventures, some good and some not so good. Those not so good ones…can leave an impression sometimes.”

“But no matter what we’re here for you both, bud.”

“It’s our job to watch over you and I promise, kid, we would never let anything happen to either of you…because we know what it’s like to not feel safe.”

“Because of your daddies?” The blink completely taken by surprise. “Your daddy called me a thing and granma Munson told me your daddy wasn’t very nice.”

“Yeah, Ellis. He wasn’t.”

“You’re not a thing. I hope you know that.”, Steve urges as he reaches out to pet his curls. “You’re perfect.”

“Granpa says I’m a mir-ack-cle!”

The three of you slowly open your eyes and as soon as you do, you begin to sob. Both demons pull you back between them and hold you tightly as they coo soft words to comfort you.

***

The rest of that morning you remained silent as you thought about everything that had transpired. The visions Mirage showed you that scared you and Steve’s parents degrading your son and their own just because he loved you and Eddie. You thought about how angry Ellis had been and how it killed you to see him in pain but you loved the fact that your parents were getting to spend time with him especially since they wouldn’t be in your world to see him grow up.

“Seeing you two dead scared me.”, Eddie responds abruptly as your eyes find his and Steve props up on his elbow behind you. “I still think about it to…pretty much every day if I sit still long enough. I used to dream about it but I prefer these past few dreams more.”, he softly smiles. “Y/N, you were right where she was… just fucking gone and again I couldn’t do fucking anything. I couldn’t…I couldn’t bring you back.”

“Steven, when we fought together, you rarely if ever got hurt. But you were next to Y/N…there was blood everywhere…I can still hear you telling me to run…begging me…” The demon’s jaw tightened as he tried to keep the memory at bay as the tears threatened to fall. “I couldn’t protect my mom or Chrissy. I couldn’t protect Steve from Maeve. Then I saw you both there and I kept thinking that little ballerina girl is right; everything is my fault.”

“Edward—“, you coo, gently as you reach up to caress his face.

“His mom said what she said and it hit a nerve.”

“Don’t listen to my mom, baby. Trust me. That woman has been miserable most of her life. I’ve never doubted that she loved me but, I don’t know, I think her love for my father and what he provided was greater.”, Steve sighed. “I, um, I still get terrified sometimes that this is all a dream and Eddie and I are going to wake up back in the stone…or I’m going to be alone. Mirage’s test felt so real…I wonder if this is my delusional dream. That I’m with you two and we’re having a baby. That you’re going to be able to live as long as we do and I can go home.”

When his voice cracks your heart breaks and sit up to wrap your arm around him.

“What killed me was not only not being able to even say goodbye to Edward but in her vision, Y/N, I fucking left him there. I abandoned him to be alone… When you ran, Ed, the thought of you being alone somewhere with the pain of what happened hurt me then but now after everything…”

Eddie sat up as well, cupping Steve’s cheek in his palm as they tenderly kissed each other before his lips tilted to the side to kiss away his tears.

“Y/N, you’re not alone in feeling what you feel. Even we understand that what we all saw wasn’t real but it was real to us. She played with our past to test us and… fuck…if she can do that no wonder she’s in a realm by herself.”, the long-haired demon soothes as he leans back to pet your head. “We know you aren’t afraid of us but if you ever need a moment or us to step back and give you space, we understand.”

Biting your bottom lip in thought you nodded before flashing them a comforting smile.

“I like your uncle. He was telling me some things about little Edward and how much of a rebel you were. He said your mom kind of had the gift that you do so maybe Ellis might get it.”

They both grin as you three lean against the headboard.

“Yeah, that would be cool. Can you imagine his soft voice lulling people? You kind of have it to you know. I mean not much but it was enough to calm me and him down.”

“Robin was telling me stories about you two training together. She said you tried to be intimidating the first time you met but she just laughed at you.”

“She definitely did and made fun of me but she’s incredibility smart. Robin saved my ass more than a couple of times. My dad hated her, thought she was too sloppy.”

“I’m sorry you grew up with them, Steven and you Edward with your dad. Seeing him, Ellis, stand up for me the way he did reminded me of—”

“Yeah, me to. Me to, sweetheart.”, he sighed kissing your temple.

“I’m glad he’s spending time with your parents though, Y/N. Proves, like you, he’s a little angel. Oh, oh no. Honey, I’m sorry.”, he tried to comfort when you started to cry again.

“No, no. I’m glad to. I just miss them so much.”

“I know, baby.”

“At least we know he has one gift for sure; a door like you.”, Eddie smiles as he points to your forehead. “That’s how he can talk to them right? You’ve done that with your dreams before.”

“Can you play something, Ed? Something…soft.”

Thinking for a moment, he nods and hastily gets out of bed to grab his acoustic guitar nearby. As he strums his fingers, you feel your anxieties melt away as you keen into Steve’s chest.

“Heaven, I'm in heaven And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak And I seem to find the happiness I seek When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek.”

You giggle as Eddie shuffles his shoulders in his seat, dancing to the Cajun music that plays across the street from the restaurant you guys were visiting in New Orleans.

“I wish you guys could eat. The food here is so delicious.”

“Yeah? When we were here the boy that found us used to eat this thing with bananas and this brown sauce. It looked interesting.”, Steve grins as he watches you glow with every bite.

“The music here is fantastic! You want to dance with me, babe?”, the long-haired demon asks.

“Oh God, no. I’m not good at it!”

“Even better. Come on, pretty girl.”

Steve cackles as Eddie yanks you to your feet, wrapping his arms around your waist as you hug him and laugh.

“Yes, heaven, I'm in heaven And the cares that hung around me through the week Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek.”

“It’s so insane how they do theater now adays!”, Steve stated excitedly as the three of you exited the auditorium. “I totally did not expect that chandelier to fall down into the stage.”

“Really though and how did they get the phantom to disappear from his chair at the end?”

“I assume you liked it then.”, you reply, grinning at their excitement.

“We did. Wow. The last time we saw a play was back when Shakespeare was pretty much the norm and the theaters themselves were in a coliseum type place.”

“They still have those. You can find outside venues here but we’ll have to make a stop in Rome and check out the coliseums there.”

“As long as we’re with you, sweetheart, we’ll follow you anywhere.”, Eddie claims fondly reaching for your hand as Steve pulls you to his side.

“Oh I love to climb to mountain And reach the highest peak But it doesn't thrill me half as much As dancing cheek to cheek.”

Having lost them for a moment in the museum, you find both demons glaring at a painting of men pushing a woman towards what looks to be a town square with a long pole surrounded by hay in the middle.

“Eddie? Steve? Is everything ok?” They don’t respond but you hear a small growl emanate from them as they exhale. Sighing yourself in empathy, you lean against the wall in front of them. “It’s not your fault…what happened to Lizzy.”

“With Lizzy, she actually committed the crime. She hurt so many people… These women…THIS woman…did nothing wrong.”, Eddie murmurs as his eyes gesture towards the young lady in the painting.

“Kind of like people back home. So many innocent men and women…children…put through a war or on trial for something they didn’t do or couldn’t control.”, Steve responds as memories flash through his mind.

“Like you.” They both rumble again, closing their eyes to keep their glowing irises from exposing them. “They didn’t even give you a chance to explain. Your king pointed a finger and you were found guilty even though the charge made no sense. Like you said…you were in a war…it makes more sense for Henry to have killed Chrissy than you, Edward. But it was your king’s idea to have them both be engaged… he couldn’t handle that notion so it was easier to blame you…banish you.”

“Steven, you are not like these men.”, you point towards the villagers. “You listened to reason and tried to find the truth if you could. The demon you were with that day blindly believed your best friend was guilty and ignored an order to bring him back alive. You did what you had to.”

Swallowing the tears that wanted to fall, Eddie was the first to open his and pull you into his embrace.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you to, baby.”, Steve adds as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“I love you both.”

As soon as your eyes focused back on your current reality, Steve collected you in his arms till you were sitting on his lap and his palm guided your lips to his. He held your lower back as you grinded against him while a now fully naked Eddie helped disrobe you both. Clinging to his neck, you sunk yourself down on to the demon’s cock, the two of you holding each other tightly as if you’d disappear if one of you let go.

“Ed…Edward…”

“I’m right here, princess. I’m not going anywhere.”, he answered in a gentle tone as his lips pecked along your shoulder. Placing his fingers under his chin, he turned his partners head and moaned as his lips passionately kissed his own.

“Please—oh fuck—please Steven.”

Lifting you up, he flips you on to your stomach, sliding his length back inside you, and pushes your legs together as he roughly thrusts his hips. Eddie’s hand comes into your view, moving and playing with your hair so he can see your face as your eyes roll back. Keening into his touch, you listen to the pleasant sounds of Steve’s pants and the other demon’s needy moans as he slowly strokes his own cock.

“So beautiful, sweetheart.”

“St-Steven—mmm—Steven please. Harder. Closer.”

Placing open mouth kisses up your spine along the way, he lays flat against you and circles his arms underneath you as he rolls his lower half into yours.

“I’m here to, baby. I’d never hurt you and I’d never abandon you. Fuck, honey, you feel so fucking good. Is this hard enough? Do you need it harder? Tell me, baby girl. I’ll give you anything.”, he whispers, groaning when your pussy clenches at his words.

“Feels…feels good. I’m gonna…”

“Me to, pretty girl. Just hold—mmph—just hold on tight to Edward, baby.”

As the other demon intertwines his fingers with yours, Steve pumps into you faster making sure to still keep himself as close to you as possible. Your body shutters under his as you cum and he growls in pleasure at the feeling before releasing his spend deep inside of you.

Falling to your side, he moves out of the way to allow Eddie to take what’s his as well but the long-haired demon looks at you with confused eyes when you suddenly place your hand on his chest, stopping him as he attempts to climb on top of you.

“Are you ok, baby?”, he whispers as he kisses your lips lightly.

Without saying a word, you nod before maneuvering them to face each other. When their normal demon eyes meet, Eddie smirks as he takes Steve in his arms and places him on his lap.

“I’m sorry my family can’t see how special you both are. You’re nothing like your father, Edward.”

“Neither are you, sweetheart.”

Steve mewled loudly as he guided himself down on to his partner, slowly grinding against him and allowing Eddie’s length to nudge at that soft spot inside of him.

“I’d never leave you. I’d never leave you behind anywhere but especially not there.”, he whispered.

“I know, baby. Fuck. I know.”

“Y-You’re not a freak and you’re not a-a peasant. You’re perfect. You both are. I’d—FUCK—I’d make all the same choices again if it always led me to you two.”

Placing his forehead on his own, Steve bounced harder against him as his palms cupped his face.

“That’s it, Steve. Everything’s ok. As long as the three of us are together, we’re ok.”

The abrupt feeling of your lips on his skin made Eddie groan as he turned towards you to see your own fingers trying to keep up with the other demon’s pace as you thrust them inside of your sensitive cunt.

Quickly licking his own digits, he forced your hand out of the way and took over pleasuring you as the sound of your slick filled the room.

“Atta girl. Ride my fingers. Fuck…my two favorite beings riding me. Cum again, Steven. I l-like hearing that whine when you’re sensitive.”

With his free palm holding his lower back, Eddie encouraged his rhythm and intensity till the other demon whimpered weakly as his seed painted both their stomachs.

“Good. Good boy.”

Your own mewl grabbed their attention and both demons watched your nails dug into his shoulder as the coil snapped. You both follow Eddie down against the mattress, kissing and sucking on his neck as he thrusts his hips upwards, chasing his own release until grunting as he coated his boyfriend’s insides with his spend.

You weren’t sure how long the three of you clung to each other afterwards but you were grateful for every minute, thankful that these two were yours.

“I don’t want us to raise Ellis in our realm.” Steve’s sudden announcement sliced through the quiet as you two turned to look at him. “After what happened with Y/N and the way my mom was talking about him… I just think it would be better if he grew up here.”

Silently, you sat up to face them as you absorbed what he was saying.

“You two would have to have your masks up a lot and so would he.”

“When it comes to us, sweetheart, it’s fine. I mean we can be ourselves with you and then with him in private. I’m not going to lie though trying to explain that to a child is going to be difficult.”, Eddie sighs.

“I don’t want him to be ashamed of who he is but I get what Steve is saying. Maybe, we can just play it by ear. Stay here back home in Hawkins and then when he hits that age we can talk about if we’d want to stay or move. He seems very articulate. He could tell us where he would feel comfortable.”

“I think that’s a good idea, babe, and of course Steve, we can go between and watch him. See if he’s more comfortable and happy here or in our realm. Plus, that way Wayne, Robin, and Henderson can see him.”

“Yeah of course. I didn’t mean it like I never want him to be there. Ellis has people in his life who don’t care about us being together or how different he may be. It’s everyone else I’m worried about. He’s not even here yet and two people have already called him names. I don’t like it.”

“I understand. Let’s…let’s focus on what we can right now. There’s so much we need and things to prepare for before he gets here. We also may need to discuss a source of income. My dad left me a good amount but that won’t last with a baby.”

Eddie pets your head as Steve leans forward to kiss your lips.

“Come on, princess. Let’s get you showered and fed. Tonight we relax, tomorrow we head back to Hawkins.”

###############

@tlclick73 @tiannamortis @steeldaisies @goodhappyfriday @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

@strangerthings64 @howlingco @eddiesguitarskills

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hihoace · 11 months

Text

Humans are social creatures and some are afraid in the dark.

Due to popular demand (three people), here's part two.

"Oh well, if I must sleep here than I will, right?" Helle got over the thing faster than the two a thought she would.

"You are not mad?" Ga'al asked confused.

"Not really... I mean... Spending my first night away from everyone else, in a completely empty room... This room sounds better!"

"Oh, I heard you are a species that is pretty social, like us. If that helps you, you are still on the same ship as your pack is." Ga'al smiled at her.

Helle smiled back at Ga'al.

"And you'll probably see them when we are going around. You will need to check out the training center with us tomorrow anyways. And than you can meet the others working in security!" Fe'ek added. "You will love Maya. She's a human like you and also like a mom to everyone else."

"That actually sounds great!" she stopped for a second before she went on to continue with a question. "You two didn't tell me your names yet! So how can I call you?"

"Oh, right! Sorry. That's rude of us! I'm Ga'al."

"And I am Fe'ek. Nice to meet you!" he stood up and shook hands with Helle. Ga'al did the same after realising that the other one didn't go crazy and that's a human greeting form.

"Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too!" Helle nodded than a somewhat scared look ran trough her face. "My stuff! I left it outside the door." She ran out than ran back with her backpack in her hands. "Sorry!"

"No problem. That happens to Ga'al more than you'd think. You can put it down anywhere. And feel free to sit down anywhere you find it comfortable."

"Hey! That's not true!"

"And as you can see it happens more than he's willing to admit!"

Ga'al shook his head as he sat down on the couch Fe'ek already was on.

"Ah, thank you!" she lowered herself into one of the armchairs. "You have a pretty comfortable room here... It's almost like a home on Gaia..."

"Well we have been in this room for like... Five or six standard periods... We had to make it comfortable!"

"Oh that's like... 8 Gaian years... We get moved every standard period or so... They always need us somewhere else and it's easier if we sleep closer to the stuff we are working on."

"Oh... Makes sense but sounds troubling! I hate moving!" Fe'ek's face showed a bit of sadness. A sing of emphaty towards their new team mate.

"It sucks, but I have everything I need. My clotes, my light and Ms. Spike!" she pulled out a plush sheped like a Gaian animal. "She's a cat!" Helle explained before the other two could have even asked.

"And why is the light?" Fe'ek asked. He was familiar with the shape of the little lantern. It was a moon, probably Gaia's.

Helle's face flushed with red. Fe'ek couldn't recognise that emotion their faces never changed colours only if they were sick.

"It's a bit embarrassing to admit, but I'm afraid in the dark... The doctors said that it's normal for kids, but I should have grown out of it by now..."

Fe'ek finally understood the meaning of the red shade on her face. It was embarrassment.

"That's nothing to be ashamed of! I heard Gaian predators are usually hunting at night. It's natural for you to be afraid."

"I... I did not have to use the light lately but sleeping at a new place always makes me anctius... I hope it won't be a problem for you two? I heard madarianans need complete darkness for sleeping..." Her hands started playing with the plush she just showed them.

"That's completely fine. There is never complete darkness on the ship so we have our methods to keep our nests dark." Ga'al reassured her.

"Thank you. The light kind of replaces the presence of everyone else. I obviously know I am still on the same ship as them it's just that this whole thing is as big as a city... And they are like miles away..."

"Hey, it's okay!" Fe'ek smiled. "We all go trough that. I could only sleep with one specific pillow I brought from home and Ga'al wa-"

"Shut up about it!" As he realised that they has a guest, Ga'al let go of Fe'ek and immidetly looked at Helle, to apologise only to see her laughing silently.

He couldn't finish as Ga'al's hand covered his mouth and pushed him down on the couch in an attempt to choke him before he can embarrass him more.

(well that's for today. I feel like if I continue now I will push too much information into one. Also you can see that I tired to colour code their dialogs. Does it help?)

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #space australians

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ikkosu · 3 months

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Megatron angst, you say?? Megatron is ashamed of the kindness the reader shows him and even more ashamed of the love that developed from that kindness. He remembers keenly how little he thought of organics, the devastation he caused to Earth. The billions of organic lives across the universe that were snuffed out on his command. He can barely stand to look at himself in the mirror. He buries himself in his duties to hide from that vicious guilt, but it doesn't help, not really. Megatron feels he doesn't deserve your affection. He doesn't realize his distance hurts you, if only he would open up to you.

IT'LL PASS

Megatron x gn!scientist!human reader

a/n : ooooh I love these kind of angst! so yummy and gobble-able. I stayed up late writing this. megatron angst be upon ye (if that's how the saying goes, anyways). hope you won’t mind me using this Au, SSAU, in case confused of the size difference.

warnings : little bit of fluff on first half, angst on the second (yipeee) 💀 this is so long, god help me.

[i]

He remembered the first time he met you.

Your hands clinched over his larger ones, tugging it down so you could peer on your toes to get a better look at his face, It took him a moment to register you, first it was the pliant flesh curled over his digits like vines, warm and soft then his head swiveled down with a jolt to meet your curious, wide unblinking eyes.

"Is this...Megatron?" Your eyes narrowed, focused — words, innocent yet simple, came off as almost dumfounded.

He doesn't know what to say.

A raise of his brows and the purse of his lips were all he could muster in response. You’re the walking embodiment of the species he sought to eradicate. To destroy. And yet, here you are, unfazed. Jumping on your toes, drumming your hands over his digits, pawing at his broad, mettalic arms like he was a specimen. Before he could reply, Ratchet grabs the scruff of your collar and yanks you away.

“Wha— hey! I was about to introduce myself!"

“That can wait until the actual debrief. Which is due time. Sorry about this, this one’s a bit of a loiterer.” He grumbles, then yanks you away to fall in step with his pace. “Stir up another problem in the lab and make it count. If Rodimus asks, I am not dealing with his moping about whether or not the body gets decimated or cremated.”

"Oh, come on! " You’re now half-way across the hallway, disappearing. Voices muffled. “It’s like, the size of my palm, Ratty. It’s real cute too, with the puffed out fur and all. We should keep it!”

“I don’t care if it’s the size of your brain. Drift thinks it’s some kind of miracle. Like spiritual miracle or something.” Ratchet grunts out. “Dispose it before someone like you could be infected and you’ve got bad allergies, remember?"

"But—"

“Don't fight me on this. Earth is miles away and I am not comm-ing the Liason Department with a petty issue like that!”

Your altercation disappeared, much the same as your figures, through the sliding door, where the squabble continued into what’s possible the lab the medic mentioned.

Megatron stares, slightly dumfounded as it swishes close and Magnus, for a large mech he’s incredibly a silent walker, teeters behind him, shuffling on his pedes.

“I see you’ve met the organic scientist. An interesting subject to behold, no?”

Rodimus is somewhere behind the duly appointed, a few steps back, moping with a scowl.

With a small wolfish grin, he managed. “I wasn’t aware you’re keeping pets.”

“Excuse me?” The sports car bristled, fists clenched, now already close. “Who’re you calling pets you—“

“Rodimus, please.” His tirade of a decent chewing out is halted by Magnus, whose arm is a barrier between the two, “ Ease down and stay in that corner until I’m done.”

"You're gonna let him say that?" A digit jabbed his way. “But he!—“

“Is trying to a rise out of you.” The bigger mech lays a terse hand over his shoulder. “You of all people should know that. Now, go.”

He’s surprised the younger mech even complied, given his role as the ‘co-captain’, Megatron assumed Magnus would be the one subverscient to his commands. With a scowl he whirled around, stomping away to whatever room deemed worthy of another tantrum. Magnus, however, swivels back with a firmer look, determined not to be swayed by his prodding.

“Discrimination is an offense.” He begins with a finger wag. The grey mech sags. Oh, not this again. ‘’ Any more remarks like that will terminate your stay here. The human you’ve met is the only one residing here in the Lost Light. I expect you to treat them with the same respect they'll have for you."

"Only?" He drawls.

"Many are still not fond of us. Take it a small step towards peace between organics, if you will. " Magnus said, craning his neck over the warlord’s shoulder in time for the med-bay doors to slide open again.

Ambulon steps out, First-aid beside him, and in that split second, he gets a glimpse of you haggling Ratchet at his desk. On your palms were the rat they encountered earlier. He could only assume you're fighting for it's refuge here with how you're assaulting ratchet with desperate puppy eyes and coddling the little rodent to your cheek.

Then the doors slide shut again.

“ In your habsuite are several books on Organic history. Optimus encourages amending tension between Organics and Cybertrinians. So, you can start there. And, while that may prove a bit difficult I hope it isn't an obstacle towards your..."

He struggled, not able to to find the word. Perhaps, repenting is too much of a long stretch so he settles on, “Your stay here.”

"I'll manage just fine." He says gruffly and turns on his heels.

There was something brimming inside his chest. A familiar tinge of energy, much the same when he used to regard Orion with the same kind of fondness.

It'll pass. He reminds himself. It's just a fleeting feeling. It'll pass.

[ii]

You’re like a shadow.

Quick to come, quick to leave — a passing blur.

From the corners to the hallways, you were always there, except he never had a chance to properly introduce himself. Why? He doesn't know why. After all, you were the first person who greeted him with enthusiasm.

The next time he met you was evening, if it was even considered that way, space was in a constant plunge of darkness, anyways. Magnus's caution not to dwell at the bar was indeed taken into consideration as well as disregarded with much care — since drinking is naturally prohibited during 'work hours', according to Magnus, a notion that is an always for him.

Swerve's was fondly quiet.

The rest had gone to ogle another 'off-world chick flick' Rewind proposed. One of those action packed, cheesy films mechs these days are so sodden for. Obviously, he turned it down, ignoring Whirl's attempt to provoke him for being a 'buzz-kill' (he dodged another blaster to the head in doing so) and slumped by a cubicle , nursing a drink he kept swivelling aimlessly in his servo. He watches the purple curl then crest, sloshing about, caking the rims dry. His mind, plagued.

Too caught up in the voices in his head, the swift yet gentle pitter patter of footsteps prodding towards the counter was unheard. It was only when you slid into the empty seat in front of him that he blinked, jolting much as he did when he first met you.

He eyed the datapads and pens cluttering on the surface, following your tandem, gloved hands gently pushing the cup of engex aside. A barrier no longer. You laced your fingers and leaned over, nose close to touching. When it appeared you've caught his attention, your eyes creased, much like a half moon and he finds himself faltering at the sight of the sun.

Though, he stood his ground by holding a firm gaze.

"I hope I'm not bothering you?" Your voice is low, like you're half-expecting Ratchet to pop out again and drag you away.

"Well..." Megatron swivels to his half opened book of the Autobot Code on the table. He still has, much to his chagrin, a thousand more chapters to go through and might as well spare himself from this heinous task and deal with Magnus's preaching.

"Not at the worst time you found me." He folds the book primly and sets it aside.

"Splendid! Is that, ah, how you say it there?"

"What?"

"How’s it going buddy! Or, what's got you up in a twist pal! Something like that. Magnus is always haggling me about 'conforming' to certain ranks with the way I speak. So, what does it?"

He stares at you for a moment, more accurately, staring down, brows pinched. You're awfully small. And not in a 'teeny, tiny, precious little pet' kind of way. His gladiator instincts overruled his prior thoughts and the heigh difference is so explicitly stark he could crush you with a mere swing of a fist. Why are you here? I could kill you. He's not so sure what to think of that. Though, his lower region can preach otherwise.

He should really stop drinking.

"You're not suppose to be here."

"Not quite."

The smile turns into a wolfish grin. It's only now he noticed you've plopped a black satchel on the table.

" Actually, to tell you the truth I'm old enough to be drinking. Hell, even mingling with the lot of you. It's just that, ah, the chemicals! Chemicals, am I right? It hurts the human brain. Makes it woozy. Real, woozy. Can’t think well. I don't know about you bots, cons, uh, there's more gosh, but you see I'm—"

"Referring to your presence." He crosses his arms, leaning back.

"Rodimus doesn't like you here."

The satchel flaps open with a click. You shrug. "Hm. That's a lot less fun, no? Guess he'll have to suck it up. Can’t keep me in a cage forever. I need my own breath of fresh air.”

He looks off to the side, forcing back an imperceptible smile. " Is that so? Whatever happened to conforming to ranks?"

"Ah, apologies, he'll have to handle shoving a stick up his tailpipe."

"You would prefer mingling with me than—"

" Obviously. It's a perfect time for our interview to start!"

.Megatron shifted slightly away, fighting the urge to frown. His digits drum the service, irritated.

"You're interested about the war." He states plainly.

"It's not much about the war, you see. It's, well more about the performers. No, wait not performers, the ah—“ You wag the pen in front of him, struggling to find the words, other hand fumbling to open the book. When you're unable to muster a coherent explanation, you settle on, "Short story, I’m a researcher. Journalist, even. Half-scientist? You get the gist."

Your eyes flicker down to the clutter of datapads by his side, an amused grin this time, " What's the point? I suppose you're already aware of my name, then?"

He feels his faceplates burn. The many datapads you caught contained the ship's dwellers and one, sticking out from the others, is your profile. It was a harmless dive, but with how blatant his stylus circled your picture a deep red, he knew he was in too deep. He clears his throat, a swift digit nudged the rim aside and it's hidden under the others.

"A bit of curiosity isn't too much of a harm these days." He doesn't shake your outstretched hand but taps your palm with his digits. "What would you like to know?"

The touch lingered. You smiled.

"You."

[iii]

He's not sure what to think.

Several weeks after the incident at the bar there's been a routine he's now accustomed to. Wake up, have a cup of energon, haggle both Magnus and Rodimus before making his rounds around the ship. (Succumb to dirty looks from mechs, as well). Then, it's only then he's able to spend time with you in the confines of his habsuite.

The first time was very uncomfortable. He's twiddling his thumb like a schoolboy as he’s perched on the edge of his birth, glaring at the floor while you're sprawled on the couch, scribbling whatever he uttered onto the paper like it's a holy scripture.

He needs to say something.

Anything to keep the conversations aflow. The sessions were about two hours long — three if it became a little more in depth — and he finds himself short circuiting when you’d throw in an ‘joke’ or two. Apparently, he missed the joke. It flew right over his head. When the rest of the conversation fell off awkwardly, it's only then he realize how inept at casual conversation he is.

"I suppose you can say the commodities there were made were satis-factory." He pauses for a moment, letting it simmer.

You blink a little, the one in your hand twirls for a moment before your palms clutched your mouth, hunching over the chair, shoulders heaving. There was a pleasant sound from your lips. Is that—

"Are you laughing?" He asks, strangely offended.

"Sorry, it's just— mhmaha, eheahag. Hehehnskslk,” You gathered yourself but the cheeks still twitched. “. Is— is that, like, a pun. Are you punning?"

He gave in, looking away. “…Magnus urged me to be a lot less ‘stiff’ with how I deliver certain….statements. ”

“So, you went with puns.” The pen nudges his cheek, playful.

He swats it away with a chuff. “We were discussing about industrial propaganda during the early courses of the war, it’s only appropriate that I put that in.”

“How many more have you got under your sleeve, megs?"

From his faceplate, a small smile cracks. “If you have enough time to spare.”

[iv]

When he looks at you, he's reminded of Orion.

Compassionate yet strong-willed. Accepting yet firm. Perhaps it's because you're as youthful as the first conjure of a star or perhaps he likes to believe that you are. You innate curiosity for knowledge, your naive recklessness for danger; determined to be the hero, despite lacking — it worries him.

In what way does it so?

Sometimes, he half expects you to emerge as a different person. One day, a bright smile on your face, the other, a facade. Your true self. He finds himself dawdling towards the mirror, scrutinizing his faceplate. The creases and wrinkles that amass his grimace, they eased into a gentle smile when he thinks about you.

It’s the little things that gets him.

Your hand on his arm when you speak, the focused adoration in your eyes when he goes on another tirade about his poems, or when he’s particularly feeling a bit sour, you’re always there with your own two cents which breaks a smile out of his face — it makes him feel something he doesn’t want to prod.

“Energon?”

He stares at the outstretched cup, his other servo is cradling his temple, migraine induced. He’s at his desk, hunched over a datapad, stylus working with abandon when you came in, the brief respite of luminescent light flaring his room stark before it shrouds dim again. Everyone had clocked in for the night. Magnus left a few hours earlier. You, on the other hand….

“How…how did you make this?” He’s dumbfounded, watching as the purple swirls around his reflection.

You declare proudly with a puff of your chest. “Being a scientist, you can pull off a few strings or two to get it. Though, I did almost combust a ‘certain’ contraption trying to filter off raw energon. Brainstorm's instructions aren't easy to read. I should really stop trying to crank up the generator to max….”

“Please, i implore you — don’t do that again.”

You shrug, a little grin.He vents. Guess he’ll have to tolerate you for the time being. You set the cup of energon on his desk and peered over a little.

“What’re you up to?”

He feels his face burn. “Annotating the next poem you requested. For our next session. You…wanted to see my earlier poems and their possible significance."

There was a bright twinkle in your eye — too bright he swiveled away for a moment.

“May I?”

“If you have time…”

[v]

It appears interviewing isn't your only vice.

Off you go to expeditions outside the Lost Light, floating about on meteors, wrangling native plants from native planets, returning to med-bay, sometimes, with parched gloves that're burnt at the tips and hair a different color from the chemical abrasions.

Megatron sometimes finds himself on the gurney instead with how much pressure his spark is taking its toll.

Once, he's startled off his armor when you tapped the window from the outside, mouthing about how Brainstorm probably started another fire in the east wing.Safe to say it wasn’t long before the fire reached him. And, you’re the one chipping off the burnt metal parts from his arm, gently cradling his servos.

It's just a little brain worm, he tells himself. Another delusion he conjures because he's so desperate to feel something — anything to contradict his guilt. Your touch is nothing but miniscule and yet he finds himself in front of laboratory often, and he'd look lost when you're greeted at the sight of the warlord dawdling in front of the lab, another excuse concocted on the spot to deter you from the possible reason.

"Isn't he a little too keen on experiments like these?" Perceptor mutters. "I didn't realize he's fond of...whatever new shenanigans they've made. If anything, I surmise an ulterior motive."

"Oh, let him be." Brainstorm waves him off dismissively. " There's no harm in finding new hobbies. He's an ex-warlord let 'im live. Besides, I heard he wanted to be a medic once, can you believe that?"

"Until the day I die, no."

"Oh, Percy, you bore."

"Please, don't even go there "

Megatron blinks as you set down a pink vial on the desk, your own hands gripped his own with a vice, tugging him along to your experiments. Your scruffed up lab coat is half-burnt at the sleeves and the bubbling beaker by your side is driving him up the wall. Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation, whatsoever?

"So, I was working on the prospect of dying acids, right? Not, die die, as in, well, dying. Die as in coloring. Trying so that when they explode it explodes a certain type of color. Neon, too! And here, take a look at this—"

You're ranting. Mouth moving, not stopping. He can't seem to focus. You're so much smaller. Just below his torso, fun-sized, easy to hold and when he's touching your soft parts —you guide his hand to pry open whatever contraption-lock you're making, he finds himself flinching.

You're so...soft.

"I'm what?" You say, yelling over Brainstorm's loud generator resounding across the room.

You're squinting, straining to hear. He wants to peel the goggles away. He wants to see your eyes.Wants to the see the way the luminescent lights freckles off the white like sparkles. He clears his throat, jabbing a finger to whatever contraption he can set your mind on, not at how his faceplate is burning much as the generator is.

"That doesn't look safe."

"That's because it's a bomb." Perceptor emerges behind you both, a scowl on his face, and paid no mind to his startled expression as he makes a beeline towards the other scientist, struggling to hold the generator together. There's a distance muffled yelling and shuffling. You both stare at them, unmoving.

"You build bombs."

"Unethical, I know."

He whirls to look at you; you're focused elsewhere. "That's not what I meant."

"Okay, okay. I might've lied a bit on that Journalism thing. But hey, I've got to make meet ends right? Hm? Megs?” You look around. “Where’d he go?”

[vi]

"What's this?" He's snapped out of his tirade, swivelling his gaze from the dome-ish greenhouse he's been ogling at to you crouched near the pot, gloved hands shoved inside the soil.

He remarks bitterly. "I pour my heart out and you're pulling out weeds?"

"Yup. Wanna help?"

They're in your personal laboratory for today. Given the amount of flora and fauna strewn about the room, Ratchet remarked it was like a greenhouse of some sort. Megatron vents, lumbering from the chair and towards your form. He snagged the recording pen from the table, clicked it and dropped it into the satchel

So much for a moment of heart to heart.

"What's this?" His digits curls out, prodding the petal of the bud, clutched between your palms.

Even when he's crouching, he's still towering over you like a building.

You smile up to him, child-like. "A new kind of flower I made."

"Really, now."

"Oh, come on hear me out."

"If it's complete and utter jargon to mess with my circuits — don't even try."

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll keep it simple."

With a snap of your finger the room became dim and from a pot, you plucked out a flower. It wasn't, however, a normal visage of one. Megatron slowly extends his palm, cradling the plant like it was crystal. The petals are glass like; it sparkled blue, frolicking purple. Against his chassis it glew, a faded tinge of color on the gunmetal grey. His face eased into a smile.

"This is....fascinating. How did you make this? Don't answer that. You'll only give me a headache." He tries to clamp a servo over your lips but you duck away. "Even so, I have no words to conjure... how much I feel about this. What implored you to create such a remarkable plant?"

" Your poem."

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"The one where you compared sparks to flowers. In a way, I do see that too." You gestured around. "My own world is like a garden. And i like to keep my garden clean. Weed out the bad stuff, put in the good stuff. But sometimes, new flowers grow amongst the old, and when they do..."

You look up to him with a small smile. "They bloom into something beautiful."

It took him a moment to understand.And when he does, his spark thrummed for a desperate plea for touch. Without thinking, his digits find your chin and reels you close.

He thinks about this often. Your kindness wasn't because you were simply kind. It's because you believed everyone had a chance.

He doesn't deserve one.

It's like everything clicked together. The sullen memories strung itself into shape, now etching across his processors. Limb, lifeless bodies across barren land. Blood smeared the soil dark crimson. What is he doing? This is shameful. Shameful of him. The very species he sought to kill, to snuff out, to eradicate. The wide, spanning field of flowers. Blue, hauntingly beautiful. Those were the lives lost.

You could’ve bloomed amongst them

He shoved you away, not to harshly but in a manner of surprise, jolting much as he did when he first met you. His shoulders grazed the pot on the table as he stood and it toppled to the ground. The shards crackled, breaking on impact. Soil a barrier, sprawled between you both.

His own anger flared, fists clenching.

“Woah, there. Something wrong? Did you get pricked?”

Megatron says nothing as you clean up the mess. Hands plucking the shards off the ground, rambling again. "Man, your shoulders are really wide. Not as big as Mangus's but still, they're like a whole wall of—"

"You should hate me."

You freeze, the shards paused halfway down into the duster, tipping a little over the edge.

Megatron kept his gaze to the floor. He needed to tell you this. He needed to remind you now. He's not what you think he is, and just because he's had his moment of respite with you, he's still, and will always be the Megatron who sought domination through means of violence, ethical or not.

"I know."

Your face smoothens out a moment before it eases back into a smile. The gentle kind.

"I killed your people. Eradicated thousands of them. Torn through vibrant planets, decimated floras, faunas, and life that teemed in those regions. I hurt nature. I hurt it's mother."

"I know."

"Then, why are you so subverscient to your own compassion? Why not take your anger out on me?" He takes a domineering step forward. "I don't understand. A person can't be this forgiving."

"Because it's wrong." You say simply. "Because it won't do anything. Look, just because you think I'm nice to you doesn't mean Im not aware of what you did.Even if I get to break several joints off your sockets, would that get me anywhere? If anything, it'll make me more miserable."

”You’re naive.’’

The flower no longer crackled. No longer bright. Like the broken pot, it lay shattered on the ground, glinting.

"If that’s how you see it..." You trail off, eyes creasing into a frown. "Is this about the poem? I didn't mean to overstep—"

He whirled away without a word. "I need to go."

[vii]

He can't get you out of his mind.

Day by day passes. From night to morning to dawn, he finds himself plagued with thought hes not able to comprehend.

Everytime he wakes up, there's this urge. He finds himself wanting to see you. He steeled himself, however, walking past you when you approach. Answering in clip tones when you ask. Magnus notices he's in his office a lot more recently, pouring through the mountains of datapad like he's on a grip.

"You should rest, Megatron." He tells the captain once.

What returned however is a grunt. Neither affirming nor denying. The enforcer frowns. He'll have to ask you about it. And yet a quick look to the scientist deters his thoughts. You're less bright and while you still have the amiable streak it appears as though you're forcing a grin through it all. Something must've happened. A fight, more preferably. That led to him confronting Rung about it, and the psychiatrist confronting Megatron — in a less subtle way, of course.

The warlord tells him it's just a brain worm, something eating at him for a while.

Something passing,

"I do think that is something quite more." He mutters, stylus crossing another scribbles on the datapad. "Given your nature with the former it's only normal to feel shame to such sentiments. Inter-species relationships dwell on that complication a lot. I get questions regarding guilt, betrayal of their own race and the unethicalities of it all. The only significant point here, however, is how you're willing to approach this problem.”

Rung, straightens his goggles. “How would you like to look at it?"

Megatron ponders. He thinks. Gears churning, scheming. Silent. He wants it to be something more yet he wants it to be nothing beyond what they are. How can he, a warlord whose actions eradicated almost half the cosmos, bring himself to feel even a minuscule hint of happiness? No, he can’t. He doesn’t deserve any of this. It's not like you feel the same.

"Nothing. It's just a fleeting feeling. It'll pass.

"Surely it can't be that easy to put aside."

Megatron frowns. "What, you don't think I can do it?"

Rung pulls a terse smile, folding his fingers over his lap.

"t’s not a matter of whether or not you can do it…" he trails off, unsure. It appeared as though he wanted to say more with how his lips part for a second. "But if that's how you would like to proceed, I am not forcing you. After all, your feelings wouldn’t fare better if I do. The choice is yours."

."I think it's best I keep my distance.

Rung seems a little distraught at that. "Perhaps it's better that you don't. Your feelings, they’re not something you can toy around with such ease. And while they're indeed very complicate, avoiding them is—"

"Don’t pretend to understand how I feel.” Rung flinches at the sudden venom in his tone. “I know how to deal with this. I just need time. Time…time is all I need.

It'll pass. He tells himself.

It never does.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #megatron x reader #idw megatron #transformers idw #ikkosuwrites #mtmte megatron #lost light

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parkkiablah · 6 months

Note

odd request but could you do a zevlor x human reader (age gap? i think YES)

in which hes a little insecure about the reader not wanting to be seen with a tiefling/knowing his species is despised and being afraid you‘ll hate him after people start to treat you differently for your relationship to him

then maybe comforting him and assuring him he deserves all the love <333

Judgement (Zevlor x human reader)

(Thank you so much for your request! I hope you like it and enjoy reading 🧡)

When you woke up that morning you already felt something was missing before you even opened your eyes. The bed was unusually cold and there was no tail wrapped around your leg.

Opening your eyes and pushing your legs out of bed you got up, rubbing your hands over your face to get the tired feeling off of you. When you walked out of the bedroom you noticed him putting on his shoes, his bag with him he was obviously leaving to somewhere.

"Where are you going?", you asked. Your voice still tired from just waking up, your hair probably a mess and most of your clothes still gathering on the floor somewhere in your bedroom.

"I just wanted to buy something for breakfast, but the plan was to be back before you wake up.", he said smiling and walked over to you. His hand moved to rest on your waist, his lips finding yours.

"Let me join you, I'll just get dressed.", you said and quickly searched for your clothes.

He leaned against the door frame waiting for you until you were dressed, smile on his face while he watched you.

Once you were done you stood before him, taking his hand.

"Lets go."

Hand in hand you walked towards the stores, enjoying the feel of palms pressing against each other, both a smile on your face.

Thats until an old woman in front of you dropped her bag when she saw you two. Zevlor reached to pick it up instantly, offering help whenever he got the chance to, when she suddenly started screaming.

"Get your hands off my bag, devil!", she screamed. "And you better get your hand off of them too! You should be ashamed, obviously manipulating someone so much younger to be with you!"

She pulled on your arm, Zevlor's hand instantly fell from yours and you looked at him in shock. He was too stunned to even say something, to even move.

You freed your arm from her grip, moving closer to Zevlor again.

"He is no devil and I assure you he did not manipulate me. You should know better than to judge so easily.", you shouted angrily, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along.

He followed you but he seemed so deep in thought you weren't sure if he lost his mind on the way.

When you got back home and the door closed behind you was when he finally did speak up.

"We should end this.", he said, looking at the floor with no emotion showing on his face. His face was blank and you just wished to be able to look into his mind.

"What?"

You looked at him in disbelieve. Was he really considering ending your relationship just over some strange woman?

"She wasn't wrong. I am a tiefling, no human and I am much older than you are."

"I am aware, so why do you want to end this?", you asked him.

You knew who he was and that was exactly who you fell in love with.

"You should not be seen with someone like me."

"Oh, you mean someone caring and gorgeous and reliable and strong..-"

"No, I mean someone old and with horns, tail and claws. Someone who you will be judged for.", he said as he has turned his back to you.

"You know, you see the problem while I see the solution it offers as well. Tieflings live longer than humans do, so the problem you have with our age difference just solved itself.", you walked closer to him, your hand reaching for his shoulder, trying to offer some comfort to him.

"It doesn't change the judgement you will face because of me.", he turned just enough to look at you, his face showing how conflicted he felt. He wanted to be with you but he didn't want to bring you down. He didn't want people to look down at you for being with him.

"I don't care for people's judgement. I'd rather be by your side and get judged then be by anyone elses side."

"You don't know how it is to be constantly judged wherever you go and whatever you do."

"You are right, I don't know how it is. But I don't want you to face it alone anymore."

His eyes found yours, affection showing through and yet he was still hesitant.

"I know you always want the best for me, but I assure you that you are who I want to be with. You are the best for me and I would rather be judged for who I love, than act like I love someone else just to please other peoples views.", you told him. Your hand moved to the side of his face, gently caressing his cheek.

"You are choosing a life with people staring at you and whispering behind your back. They will treat you very differently just for your hand in mine. Is that really what you wish for?", he asked you, his face concerned.

"You are all I ever wished for and if being judged is the price for it, I will gladly pay it."

"Gods, you don't know what you are getting into.", he said, his hand resting above yours on his cheek.

"I don't need to know, all that matters is that we go through this together. You deserve to be loved and I don't mind our differences. Our hearts beat the same rhythm and thats all that I need."

Your hand rests on his chest and you stand on your tiptoes to push your lips onto his.

He instantly melts under your touch, lips softly pressing against yours, his hand moving around your waist to hold you close.

"Thank you.", he said once you broke the kiss.

"For what?", you asked. Both of your hands rested on his shoulders.

"For reassuring me."

"Nothing to thank me for. I will reassure you as many times as you need me to.", you said smiling. "And you know I can be very stubborn."

#bg3 #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor x human reader

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aita-blorbos · 4 months

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(OCs) AITA for partaking in the circle of life? This isn't really something I can pray about, so unfortunately I must ask the opinion of the public. I am a Priest, and the one living son of God, I live in a small hamlet. Due to my importance and power I am responsible for doing much around the village, including occasionally feeding some of my people. After undergoing metamorphosis, people of my species can no longer process food that isn't of the human body, so that is what we all eat, regardless of physical state. Apparently, my most important disciple disagrees with this practice, claiming it is unjust in it's nature as cannibalism. Personally, I do not think it counts as cannibalism after you metamorphosize, as most of us have, since very few of us even resemble our humanoid bodies any more, but I digress. Even if it did, does it really matter so much if we eat the only thing we can? Yes, we must murder to get it, but would you tell a hawk it should be ashamed to eat chickens? That a wolf should not kill deer? Bullshit if you ask me. Some of us have been doing this for thousands of years. Though I admit many of them have not been happy about it... especially not for the first decade or so. And perhaps I was not either. I beseech thee, are we really so impure?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #cannibalism

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raviollies · 7 months

Note

i love how you portray theta!

1) the way her appearance is so bright and colourful, *almost* distracting you from her sinister nature as a hag. it’s kind of like those plants that lure insects in to eat them.

2) her other form as the cycle of life. the animal carcass as an avatar of death and decay and yet life still manages to find a way, in the form of moss and the blooms on her antlers. could she possibly also have mushrooms?

3) the cycle of abuse like you’ve mentioned in an older post when talking about her relationship with blythe, and the implications it has. given enough time, will blythe’s own sense of identity erode because of the power gifted to her? will she remember her old life, or will it also become a haze that she dismisses with a wave of her hand because why does it matter now, when she’s so *powerful*? will she eventually believe that theta was right in turning her? will she eventually do the same thing to another woman and perpetuate the cycle?

AAAA thank you thank you!!!! It's so nice to see people pick up on what I write and find it interesting, it warms my heart.

Long response below

1) Yes! I purposely tried to make her very bright, colourful as a contrast to Blythes dreary palette. I was unaware of plants having a similar thing but I was thinking of how "bright colours = danger" in a lot of wildlife. I also took inspiration from The Shimmer/Zone from Annihilation to emphasize the downright incomprehensible nature of Fae, unpredictable and bound to laws unknown to mortals.

2) She definitely has mushrooms!! I have always been entranced by the dichotomy of life and decay, and that cycle. I love love love the presentation in Princess mononoke, with plants blooming and rotting within the presence of the spirit

3) Yes, that is the worst ending for Blythe. To perpetuate the cycle and become a Hag uncaring for the feelings of others for her own whimsy. To eventually become intoxicated with the power she obtains and believes rules no longer apply to her.

However, she has people in her life to urge her to break that cycle, to keep her grounded. To put others over her own selfish desires. To break a cycle of abuse you often need help, we are a social species. Her companions and friends are meant to be a representation of that. A way to overcome the generational abuse - and maybe later. She can look back and realize Theta was a victim too. That she once was a woman, who did things she thought were loving but hurtful never the less.

I think acknowledging that the perpetrators are often victims themselves is important in your own healing. It helps you process and curb any negative behaviours in yourself, as well as see people as human.

I often struggle with the way I was raised juxtaposed with how much my parents sacrificed to give me a better life. How much they worked, how much they gave so that I can be in Canada instead of Ukraine, juxtaposed with the way I look back on my childhood and am filled with anger. Both of these things are true; and I feel as though it helps me move forward. I've treated some people badly in my life, lashing out because of my own treatment, and I feel ashamed for it, but it doesn't negate that fact. We're all human, we all have impacted someone's life negatively at one point, you just have to do better.

Obviously this doesn't apply to everyone's experiences, some abuse is much more heinous than others, but this is my experience as an elder daughter in an immigrant family.

#Theta #ask #anon #i have a lot to say im sorry NdjdmJSJS

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hungerofhadarr · 2 months

Text

Dead three but mass’ d effect .. Ketheric is Quarian bc I’ ve already made Isobel Quarian in my mind’ s eye … he has “ cheated death “ thanks to immoral Geth testing and the fact that ~50% of his body is Geth tech .. That opening scene in bg3 when he has the axe thrown into him and he gets up ? Imagine that but it Tears through his suit and reveals Geth technology underneath

Gortash is human , think a Udina plot but Far Better . Am I making Raphael Cerberus for the sake of this ? Yes . But he was raised in a cerberus base under captivity until he escaped , now he’ s a good alliance marine ( lies ) and he uses his old Cerberus knowledge to steal plans and data about the Reapers . He manages to become a council member too btw . Oh my god hold on . This would make Ulder the previous human councilman , but he’ s stepping down to give Gortash the place .. do you see my Vision

If I said I wanted to make Orin Hanar .. would you agree … the logical part of my brain says Asari bc of the whole “ all species sees themselves in the asari “ + she can have cool and fun biotics … but Hanar Orin ? The whole thing with the Enkindlers + how indoctrinated Hanar are ashamed of them .. her soulname would be so interesting too to figure out … the patterns on Hanar that mimic patterns on changelings … she can use high tech to cast extremely convincing holograms and she can control them until the time is right and she approaches .. also her with a voice like a Hanar ?? So good ..

#bg3 #mass effect #baldurs gate 3 #crossover

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yaksha-lover · 2 months

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Hi hi hiiiiiiiiii!!!

How are you doing on this rainy(at least for me) day? I hope everything’s been going well for you, remember to make time to take care of yourself even if you’re busy!!

I saw your requests are closed so I’m actually just here to ask something about your yandere!diasomnia vampire au (I’ve read all of your rules, but if I’ve misunderstood anything and broke any of them in this ask feel free to ignore this!)

Since they’re all vampires and it’s mentioned that Malleus is an ancient vampire, I’m assuming that their order of birth (if not their ages since they’re immortal) are more or less the same

What I would like to know is how they ended up as vampires? Is it a “vampire as a species that can reproduce” kind of au? Or did they each get turned by someone else?

And if it’s like that, is there any risk for reader to become a vampire (since it’s mentioned that they’re still human) maybe to make them immortal so that they may remain forever with the diasomnia group?

Also how did they manage to make reader stay with them? Why are they the first? Were there other attempts to make humans stay with them? Why did they fail?

Sorry if this is too much! Again, take all the time you need and feel free to ignore the ask if there’s anything that bothers you!!

Bye and remember to drink lots of water!!

Hey!! It actually did rain for me today as well haha, I am good, thank you for asking. Hope you’re doing well too! You’re all good I promise, I love getting asks and questions about stuff I’ve written!!

Yeah, it’s meant to be similar to canon where Lilia is the oldest, Malleus is old but not as old as Lilia, and Silver and Sebek are relatively young for vampires (compared to those who’ve been alive for centuries).

It could be read either way, but to me it was definitely a ‘they got turned by someone else’ thing. I imagine Lilia getting turned by someone in his younger days, and then going on to eventually turn people he finds dying and offers them a chance to be saved (kind of like Carlisle in Twilight if you’ve seen it lmao). So on his journey, he eventually saves Malleus, then maybe a hundred years later saves Silver, then Sebek, and they come across reader maybe fifty years later. Because of the way things have played out, Lilia does become the same father or father-figure to them that he is in canon, taking responsibility for their well-being and also their happiness (which is why he doesn’t really care what reader wants, his sons come first).

Hmm, I’m a bit indecisive about reader becoming a vampire because on one hand, they absolutely want reader to stay with them forever. At the same time, I think part of what makes them so attached to reader is the aspect of humanness which all of them have lost and now long for. Being a vampire means hiding, it means feeling ashamed, and it means being hopelessly cold and lonely for an unthinkable amount of time.

I think with reader, that sense of humanness is very refreshing to them, and it reminds them of their lives before they were forced (in a life or death decision) to become vampires. Reader is normal, and despite everything, as kind as one can be in that situation. They’re very ‘real’ and feel their emotions in a way that’s become distant to the vampires. Not to mention the aspect of taking their blood to be something sacred in a special but different way to each of the boys.

(But, yes, when the time comes, they probably will force reader to become a vampire, to make a long story short.)

As for how they got reader to stay, I think at first reader might’ve stumbled across their house, asking for help and a place to stay temporarily (during an emergency - they’re the only house for hundreds of kilometers) and then they just…never let reader leave, even after they freak out about learning about vampires.

Maybe it starts with guilt tripping about leaving them behind after the ‘kind gesture’ of helping reader when they were a stranger, then it’s some intense coercion and vague threats about not letting them leave, then (as you saw in the drabble), reader tries to run away and finds out the threats aren’t as empty as they might’ve thought. At this point, they’re aware that wherever they go, all that’s in store is Lilia hunting them down again and a whole lot of pain, so there isn’t much sense in trying to leave again.

As for why reader is the first, it’s not that they would fail to keep any human in the past, it’s just that this is the first time they’ve really wanted to. Maybe other humans have stayed with them very briefly too in the past (during an emergency like reader), but it’s just never clicked before. There’s never been someone they can agree upon, that all of them truly like enough to want to keep around; reader is the first they really grow attached to.

Thank you for this lovely ask, I hope you take care of yourself as well!

#thanks for the ask!#sorry this may have derailed a bit i realize i wrote a far too lengthy response #it wasn’t that deep but anyway lmao #yaksha-lover replies #k. cold

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curvylizzie · 2 years

Text

Welcome to my realm

Yay~~~.....

I'll set up some rules in order to make a good experience for both you and me 🙂

1. This is an NSFW blog, meaning anyone under 18+ needs to get out

2. don't send me pics of you trying to get my attention, I'll ask you to not do that and if you do it again.... well, sorry but I'm not replying anymore.

3. No Dick pics! That should be self explanatory... dick= block

4. I'm a human being too and I got a life outside tumblr, if I don't reply right away is because I'm either at work or I'm doing something else, don't think I'm ignoring you unless you broke rule no. 2

5. I'm only putting this one because it has already happened and I can't believe I'm saying this but... don't ask me to describe my genitals, seriously man.... that's creepy.

6. No I don't wanna meet irl

7. Please respect my gender, I know I may be a “futa” to some but talking about my genitals is just not appropriate. Specially without consent. A lot of us struggle with dysphoria and we don’t like talking about it. So just keep it on the low

8. Any images and pics I post here are watermarked, I do not wanna see them used by a fake account. I will ask you to remove them if I do find out.

I wanna have fun too and I wanna be able to enjoy this as the pervert that I am 😁 I also wanna interact with all of you! I love replying to dms and asks! That's one of my favorite past times so please let's be fair and let's have some fun!!

Kink list

-pregnancy {obv}

- multiples

-breeding

-rapid pregnancy

-alien pregnancy

-cuminflation

-belly inflation

-noise play (as in not allowed to moan during sex)

-burping

-weight gain

-force feeding

-bdsm kinks such as spanking (yeah i’m not ashamed) bondage, CNC, orgasm denial, begging, degradation, being used, dominated.

-teasing

here is a list of stuff i’m not really into but don’t mind them:

-birth

-water inflation

-anal

here is a list of hard no’s

-underage

-cutting

-hot wax

-anything that would scar me

I might expand the list as time goes on but there it is!

FAQ:

-what's your ideal pregnancy size: triplets

-are you a feedee?: yes

-are you pregnant?: I wish

-will there be a universe in the existential plane where humans are not the dominant species in our earth?: possibly

-you like marvel?: yes

-which movie?: yes

-you like sex?: yes

-how many times a week?: yes

-How big you wanna be?: yes

-how did you get into pregnancy?: I've always been into it as far as I can remember. It flourished in my teenage years when I finally realized seeing women in big bellies turned me on and wished to be like them. I fell in love with the idea of being pregnant and carrying around a pregnant belly with a baby inside.

-Are you pregnant?: no

-Is it pretend?: yes

-you sure you're not pregnant: I'm pretty sure

-do you wanna be?: I'll let you figure that out

-are you suuuuuure?: yes

-that belly looks real: it's fake!

-what are your kinks?: check my kink list

-How old are you?: check bio

-do you love me: I like you as a fan

-can I be your boyfriend/ girlfriend?: no sorry, I'm taken

-can I still be?: no

-please?: NO

if you wish to donate, you can dm me. you can pay me through square and the amounts are as follow

-5$ just donate

-15$ buy me lunch

-35$ stuff me

-50$ fill me up

Here are all my links

Please consider subscribing to DeviantArt

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suffarustuffaru · 2 months

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I'd love to hear more about Otto and Natsumi Schwartz if you have anymore thoughts on them

hah once again ty for all the cool asks its been fun answering them :o !! and arghhhhh otto and natsumi......................................... i have many thoughts.

ive been planning on making a comprehensive otto queer analysis post for a while - just bc i think my thoughts on reading otto as queer are kinda spread across different posts of mine HAH and i dont normally write very formally with proper grammar in most of my analysis posts, even (...i normally save that for my school essays...... </3) but id love to make an actual formal analysis just for the topic of queer otto bc i have been Gathering Evidence!! making theories!! otto's whole judging attitude towards natsumi is definitely part of it.

and also i do have fic wips in the works abt these sorts of topics!! i am publishing one sometime this month or early next month!!

anyway i went over like my theory on otto being a little fixated on normalcy in asks like this one.... which is yknow due to being an outcast his entire life so then he ends up overcorrecting a little (see: him insisting on wearing green bc he thinks itll help him look approachable) but then he never fits in anywhere Except for the emilia camp anyway so :,))

that, and. you would Think that otto wouldnt give a shit bc of his dp. like animal biology is soo widely different between different animals, biological sex can be a little complicated at times (like. snails. for example) and of course animals all work Really differently, but also sometimes animals will have sex with other members of their species with the same sex (like bats. or giraffes.) so its like. Yes, human sex and gender and sexuality and human concepts of these things are Not comparable to animals but its still like - these are natural things, you know? and ottos talked with lots of animals and probably seen a bit of shit, so you would expect him not to be homophobic or transphobic or anything right?

and i think on one level he would recognize human sex, gender, and sexuality as natural things, bc they are, but i also think otto still has internalized shit going on from all the times hes struggled with learning social rules and how human connection works as he was growing up, id say. i remember how in my. um. "how homophobic would rz characters be" tier list i had to move otto UP a tier into the same tier as FERRIS AND SUBARU.... in the DEALING WITH INTERNALIZED SHIT tier..... yes. i have reasons for doing that yep!!

so. in three idiots goddess statue episode, garf otto and subaru of course crossdress to go to this party with roswaal for Reasons!!!! and ottos got a bit of an attitude about the crossdressing ok. just gonna leave some excerpts from there regarding otto's feelings on natsumi and crossdressing:

She is a thin woman with wavy gray hair and beautiful ornaments. She has a neutral face, but the lightly applied makeup enhances her good looks. She looks so good in a dress that exposes her thin white shoulders that it is a shame that she walks with her head down.

Natsumi: “So, how long are you going to keep your mouth shut? Don't you think it's time to make up your mind?” Audrey: “I'm more curious as to why you're so adamant about this!” Natsumi: “Oh-ho-ho-ho” Audrey blushed and yelled at Natsumi, who put her hand over her mouth and laughed loudly. However, in no time at all. Audrey immediately covered her face with her hands, as if ashamed of herself. Audrey: “How could this happen? If I knew there had been two other people besides me, I wouldn't have had to resort to such emergency measures! I've been tricked!"

Needless to say, it was Garfiel who was dressed as the blonde woman, and Otto as the gray-haired woman. And the last one, Natsumi Schwartz, was the one who… Subaru: “So she's the temporary form of Natsuki Subaru, as you know.” Otto: “Um, how come you're so smooth and perfect? Even your voice has changed, hasn't it?” Subaru: “Actually, I failed once before because I couldn't change my voice. Ever since then, I've been practicing for a chance at revenge.”

Subaru: “Did you actually have a secret desire to dress as a woman? So you took this opportunity to......?” Otto: “don’t look at me like you've just found out the terrible truth!” Otto spat and screamed at Subaru's shocked face. Then, while he was breathing hard. Otto: “Your crazy prediction is way off! I really only did what Ram asked me to do. I thought I was doing the camp a favor, and this is how they treat me!” Subaru: “Wow, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, calm down. Look, you're ruining your pretty face....…” Otto: “Shut up”

With the men calling out to her one after another, Audrey left the crowd and took a breath. She wanted to sit on the balcony and enjoy the cool breeze to cool down the heat of the party. To be honest, since we entered the venue, the men have been constantly coming at us with no time to rest. Audrey had heard that this was a place to meet people, but the hunt of a hungry wolf is insatiable. They are so hungry that they are even blinded by the gender of the person in front of them. If they don't develop a better eye for women, even if they do meet someone, they will probably end up unhappy. Or is it that "good"? Audrey: “Hmm, makeup is scary. I can see how men can turn into....…”

Audrey glanced toward the center of the hall. There, as usual, Natsumi was having a good time chatting with many of the participants. She was so excited that she could be heard shouting over and over again. Garnet: “Captain...... No, not so much as a lady” Audrey: “I really wonder what's going on with that guy....... I'm worried that he won't respond to me calling him Natsuki-San anymore.”

Gwain: “No, no, no, enough is enough. You ladies are beautiful, especially that dark-haired girl, Natsumi Schwartz. She's got the youngsters by the balls. She's a bad girl.” Audrey: “Ha-ha-ha.” Audrey couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh and failed to look feminine.

Then, smiling with her hand over her mouth, is a woman with distinctive mean looking eyes. With her unusual black hair and jet-black dress, she exudes elegance in her demeanor. Perhaps it's because she's a good talker and a good listener, but she seems to be able to swim through the social scene with ease, laughing and creating a friendly atmosphere even when surrounded by several men. I couldn't decide whether I should be impressed or dismayed by her versatility. A short distance away, a sharp-looking blonde woman silently waved away the men who approached her, creating a stark contrast between the light and dark of the people involved. And to those of us on the sidelines, watching the scene…

anyway so. thats a whole lot of excerpts and theres probably at least a little bit more in that ss that i didnt put in this post hah.... and i know that you could definitely interpret these scenes in a few different ways, and also that when youre writing about gender, your feelings on it are likely to bleed into the text a bit and so some of stuff like otto being a Bit of an Asshole in this ss might just be tappei's tappei-isms also (which is most likely the case for stuff like this entire ss tbh :,)) ) but. but i do think theres Something here to be analyzed in regards to otto!!

bc like. lbr. i really doubt that otto is Straight. i really really doubt that hes straight, and i feel like theres just so so much possible gay subtext behind whatever the hell ottos feelings for subaru are thatre scattered across side content and the main story HAH...... this isnt even my ottosuba bias talking, its genuinely what i think could be happening here. and lbr if otto was female everyone and their mother would be shipping ottosuba more i think haha.

but yeah anyway otto shows up being a little...... wack..... about crossdressing??? HM. hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. but also the rezero fantasy world seems to be rather Judgmental about these sorts of things anyway so. :,)))

but i am squinting HARD at "I'm worried that he won't respond to me calling him 'Natsuki-san' anymore".............. and the hungry wolf part......... im squinting at it for multiple reasons (tappei being tappei) (.....but also WHAT is going on in otto's head...)..... "I couldn't decide whether I should be impressed or dismayed by her versatility."............

anyway. i think this could be several possiblities....

otto is once again focused on what's considered "normal" and is focused on trying to at least Attempt to fit into societal ideas of normalcy so when he sees subaru whos this absolutely chaotic and bold person whos also like Queer In Every Direction, otto's brain basically shortcircuits. hes like "wtf how are you doing that. you cant do that. thats not allowed. youre so confident about this too. wtf" (ie: ............otto is transphobic.) (this is 1ooo% the most likely option)

otto is gay for subaru and subaru dressing as a woman gives otto a little bit of a bi crisis. natsumis a bad girl thats got youngsters by the balls, you see. also bc subaru called otto pretty and otto was immediately like "SHUT UP" like T^TT

otto is gay for subaru and subaru dressing as a woman gives otto a tiny itty bitty crisis bc if subaru's sex was female and if subaru was 100% a woman then liking subaru romantically would be a million times easier bc then its societally acceptable

otto, being a bit of a manipulative asshole, goes "hm. subaru-as-natsumi effortlessly charming the room? interesting. i approve of the political maneuvering."

otto is being an asshole, once again, to complain, once again, about all the work he Willingly Does for his friends

................................................gender envy???????

or feeling off bc hes uncomfortable crossdressing just bc of that mismatch between his gender presentation and his gender yknow

otto is feminine/androgynous, so could he have been made fun of for this in the past?????????????????? does he ever get uncomfy about that?????????????????????? not being traditionally masculine??????? bc otto easily passes as a woman when hes crossdressing?????????

a mix of a few of the above options!!!!!

but yeah like. ottos clearly ashamed and embarrassed to be crossdressing. he's also been mistaken for a woman in the past (in subaru's pov) bc yknow hes very androgynous. and also otto gets Really Fucking Defensive when subaru insinuates that otto couldve wanted to dress as a woman also this entire time. the "youre ruining your pretty face..." "shut up." exchange is SOOOO.... T^TT

(and also quick side note but i think ottos stance on queerness is "i dont think its personally wrong. except that i think its wrong Societally bc society will be a bitch about it!! too much Trouble and Work For Me!!!! " :,)))) fucking bitch. thanks otto </333)

and im sure the "I'm worried that he won't respond to me calling him 'Natsuki-san' anymore" line is a dig at subaru passing so so strongly as natsumi that ottos like "urgh hes more of a Woman now" or smth :,))))) however!! its also interesting just bc "natsuki-san" is like. otto turned it into a pet name. basically. like at this point. even though he and subaru have grown closer during and after arc 4 otto Still uses "natsuki-san" - its kind of special, yknow? dude turned that into a fond nickname. so its like..................... if you squint.... why is otto basically saying "will subaru being natsumi drive him away from me..." like im gonna slap otto across the face i swear HAHA. but also otto Does use "natsumi-san" towards natsumi as well but im still. squinting hard at that. "natsuki-san" is The original pet name, after all.

and also the hungry wolf lines... like i know the intent of that is like. otto as audrey keeps getting hit on by guys at this party bc shes attractive, right, with her dress and makeup and styled hair and all that. insert tappei's tappei-isms here. but ottos musing on this like "mm.... men can be so hungry in their romantic pursuits that they'd be blind to the true gender of the person theyre hitting on...... makeup can really do such a thing huh... turns men into Animals..." and its like. hm. otto. you know. i Wonder. i really wonder my guy after hearing about you be obsessive over subaru for like three arcs!!!!!!!!!!

as for ottos gender like. dude is cisgender in canon im sure. though i definitely think its fun to explore genderqueer interpretations of him - and even then, i think even if he isnt genderqueer, i think there might be a bit of shock or even envy, if you squint, at otto seeing subaru so flamboyant and way more confident about crossdressing while ottos over here ducking his head and red with embarrassment while natsumi is absolutely OWNING it. despite the judgment otto and other people are giving!!! otto could Never. it completely blows ottos mind a little, from the looks of it. "how come youre so smooth and perfect?", the defensiveness at subaru saying otto couldve secretly wanted to dress as a woman, "i couldnt decide whether to be impressed or dismayed", and of course it all goes back to subaru being in the spotlight and otto watching from the sidelines. in the Darkness, you could say. hahahaahahahah................. subaru who gets easily into trouble and seems so so shameless about things while ottos so distressed about it.... about every little thing................

but also i do have another running theory that subaru's masculinity issues and otto's androgyny do clash a little just bc. well subarus judged ferris a bit before - "what part of you is like a man?" iirc is the line from arc 4 wn that subaru said to ferris. and subaru can feel more confident bc hey.... im more masculine than a guy like otto, right? otto, who can easily be mistaken for a girl? but im sure subaru would be a little jealous, even. maybe. bc woah. i want to pass as a girl when i decide to dress as one. and then yknow ottos being a dick abt it. maybe its a "im a man and Not a woman" (cisgender man who is uncomfortable dressing as a woman and knows this is not for him) thing too or maybe its a "im a man and Not a woman, so doing this is stupid and beneath me" (internalized/not internalized transphobia????????????) thing???????

yeah so idk i feel like theres different ways to read this fr especially when. haah..................... otto is Not Straight for subaru. thats for sure.

so why are you being an asshole about your crush crossdressing????????? why does it kind of threaten you a bit???????????????????????? why are you behaving this way????????????????????

but if you think about it i do think that maybe. at the heart of all of this. otto is just upset at the Impossibility of him and subaru being together (in any sense of that word) bc theyre so similar but so so different and it makes them clash in every way. :,))))

#save for later #<<< for when i finally get to doing that Formal queer otto analysis :<<<#rezero #re:zero #natsuki subaru #otto suwen #natsumi schwartz #ask #......#audrey souffle #thats a great fucking alias right there. souffle.....#very cute name!!!#i defff think though ottos backstory affects a lot of his personality of course #like on a deeper level than some ppl probs think abt with him #like dude Does have internalized shit going on HAH #like nooooo donntttt you twink!!!! dont get brainwashed by terrible societal norms!!!!!!! pls!!!! :(( >:(((

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