#of course... i could just use dolls that are in-scale with him but i like more stylized figures | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hunny-bean · 10 months

Note

Hello, I have a Matt x reader x Frank castle smut request. Frank tells Matt what he does with you after his patrol, how tight you are and how good your pussy tastes. Frank takes Matt to his apartment and the two have a lot of fun with the reader. They use the reader like a sex doll. Despite the years with Frank, the reader is too tight and Matt is too big.

In High Demand

Pairing: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt's been overworking himself. Frank knows someone who can help him relax.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Threesome, Oral Sex (M and F Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Praise and Degradation, An Obscene Amount of Dialogue, The Reader is Very Slutty (I'm Sorry. . . No I'm Not).

A/N: Well, I'm officially out of the frying pan and into the fire. Of course, by fire, I mean threesome. I'm sorry this took so long for me to finish. I'm a bit of a slow editor. If you have any constructive criticism, I will absorb ALL of it happily. I'm trying to improve my writing skills as much as I can. Also, I'm always taking requests! XOXO.

Read on AO3

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"I really appreciate you helping me out with this, Frank."

Frank looked up from where he was sitting with his back against the brick barrier. "Yeah, well, I owed you one," he replied, "and I'm not a huge fan of being in debt."

The two vigilantes were resting on a vacant rooftop, listening closely for any signs of danger. Hearing nothing, Matt figured the "Devil of Hell's Kitchen" had driven everyone with something to fear from him back inside. He declared his nightly patrol a success. As soon as he switched off attack mode, he felt the exhaustion hit him, and he slumped down on the wall next to Frank.

"So, you're saying you did all this to balance the scales?" Matt asked incredulously.

"Just about," Frank muttered, scratching a little blood stain off the knife Matt let him borrow. "And I only beat up one guy, so it's not like I actually had to work for it."

"I'd say you worked hard enough. I mean, you did make it all night without killing anyone."

"There you go again with that self-righteous bullshit," Frank groaned. "What I don't get is why you would ask someone you constantly feel the need to babysit for help."

Taking a deep breath in, Matt forced himself to stand, getting ready for the walk back to his apartment.

"You were convenient," he explained. "I knew your skills and I knew where to find you. Also, you're not nearly as lethal without all your guns."

"Well, fuck you too," Frank grumbled. He waited for Matt to take a few steps towards the ladder before chucking the knife he was holding directly at the back of his head. He watched it spiral through the air, perfectly on course, only to land gingerly in Matt's hand. It was almost like the knife changed its trajectory at the last second, but Frank knew that wasn't the case. Besides, it's not like he actually wanted to hit him. He didn't even think that was possible.

Matt turned back in his direction. Even through the mask, Frank could feel the raised eyebrow. He ignored it. Hopping up, he made his way over so the two of them could walk together.

"Okay, but why ask for help at all?" Frank pressured. "It's obvious you can handle yourself, and you've never asked before."

"You know as well as anyone how unpredictable these streets can be," Matt began. "You're right, most nights I can handle myself, but. . . I wasn't so sure about tonight. I wanted someone there, just in case."

He was about to start climbing down the ladder, but Frank's voice stopped him before he could.

"Something tells me you're not gonna be so sure about tomorrow, either."

"What?"

"Come on, Red. Look at yourself. You're practically dead on your feet," Frank pointed out. "It's three in the goddamn morning, you just fought like fourteen people, and now, what? You're going home to get your two hours of sleep before work?"

"Four."

"That's still not enough, and you know it."

"I'll be fine," Matt asserted.

"No one can do that every night and be fine."

"Why do you care?"

"Because unlike some people, I actually respect what you do around here, and I don't wanna find out what this shithole would look like without you," Frank raved. There was a long silence after that, both men startled by the declaration.

"You won't."

Matt began his descent, ready to end their conversation. Frank, it seemed, had other plans.

"If you were fine, you wouldn't be taking the ladder," he called down after him.

Matt paused, resting his head against the metal rung in front of him. He was really starting to get aggravated by Frank's incessant concerns. The most annoying part was that he was right. Matt would usually make it home from patrol in two minutes flat, his feet touching nothing but rooftops. He picked a shorter building with a ladder tonight because he feared his body was too sore to make the jumps. To say it had been a rough week would be an understatement.

'You have nothing to prove,' he repeated in his head like a mantra. It worked at first; he made it another three steps down, but then he heard Frank's stupid voice again.

"Why won't you just admit that you're burnt out?"

Matt gritted his teeth, unable to hide his frustration any longer. He gave up on avoiding conflict and began climbing back up to the roof to be on the same level as Frank.

"I am not burnt out," he growled.

There was an awkward pause as Frank looked Matt up and down, thinking. He carefully considered his slumped posture and his shoulders racked with tension. Matt couldn't see him, but he could feel Frank's eyes examining him, and it made him uncomfortable. He was about to say something, but Frank broke the silence before he could.

"When's the last time you got laid?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"I'm sorry-"

"You're not a virgin, are you?"

"What? No!"

"So how long's it been?"

Matt wasn't sure how to feel about the sudden shift in the argument. he kinda felt like he was in a train headed towards a cliff that suddenly veered off course. He was safe from the fall, but who knew what lay ahead of him now?

"Why the hell would you want to know that?" he asked.

"Just answer the question."

"Uhh, a few months? I don't kn-"

He was interrupted again by Frank letting out a low, impressed whistle.

"That's even worse than I thought," Frank said.

"You've thought about this?" Matt asked, horrified.

"No, jesus christ, man, it's obvious. You're all tense 'n shit. You look like you haven't relaxed in a while, that's all."

Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. "I think we should go," he mumbled.

"I think you should get some."

"Ok, well it's not like you've got someone waiting for you at home either," Matt snapped.

Frank looked at Matt quizzically, letting out a surprised chuckle.

"What?" Matt asked, exasperated.

"Nothing," Frank responded. "It's just that you really are off your game."

"What are you talking about?"

"There is someone waiting for me at home right now."

"Bullshit."

"I thought you could, like, smell it on me or something," Frank speculated.

Now that he mentioned it, Matt did notice something different about Frank's unique smell. There was a slightly sweeter scent intertwined with his typical smoke and rosewood. He knew Frank wasn't lying, but for some reason he didn't want to believe it.

"I didn't hear anyone else inside when I came to get you," he added.

"She was out with some friends. She should be home by now."

"You realize how made up that sounds, right?"

"Cut the crap. You know it's true."

"Yeah, I know," Matt conceded. "She your girlfriend?"

"Yeah. . . At least, I think she is."

"Do you go out on dates often?" Matt supplied. He made a 'come on' gesture to encourage Frank to follow as he started down the ladder once more.

"I don't exactly know what counts as a date in your world, but I think we do." Frank inhaled sharply as he almost lost his footing on a loose bar.

"Wait, does she know who you are? The terms of your agreement-"

"I remember all the terms, thanks," Frank muttered. "I didn't tell her. She figured it out pretty quick though. Maybe I should grow a beard or somethin'."

"Do you love her?" Matt asked when they reached the bottom. The two of them started off in the same direction for their homes, taking only the deserted back alleys they were all too familiar with.

"Well I've only known her for three months," Frank answered, dusting little flakes of rust off his black jacket, "but I think I'm really starting to. She might just be the prettiest, sweetest girl I've ever known."

"That's a good sign. Okay, one last thing: Does she sleep with other people?"

Frank suddenly looked like he was remembering something funny. "Only if I ask her to," he smirked.

Matt was pretty sure his brain short-circuited, and he stopped dead in his tracks. "The correct answer would have been no," he deadpanned. "Why the hell would you ask someone to do that?"

"Well, Red, there's this thing you should know about my girl. I know she seems all cute and innocent at first, but she's actually the biggest slut I've ever met."

"Okay, TMI," Matt complained. Naturally, Frank ignored him. They began walking again, talking more about Frank's secret girlfriend.

"I'm telling you, man, she's perfect," he bragged. The night we met, I found her blowing some guy behind a bar."

Matt had to admit, that was a little amusing. "And what?" he asked, "you just went up to them and started hitting on her?"

"Not exactly," Frank laughed. "I was just walking home, and the guy she was with thought I said somethin' to him or some shit, 'cause he came over to me and started tryin' to pick a fight, right? Well, anyway, I knocked him out cold. Save the lecture, he was a dick wad and he wasn't even that drunk. But this girl, she thought it was hot, can you believe that? So, she starts hitting on me, saying I look strong and dangerous, 'cause apparently she's into that. She kept asking me to take her back to my place, and she was obviously hammered, so I did, just to keep her safe, you know? Almost immediately, she passes out on my bed, too tired to even try to fuck me anymore. Luckily, when she woke up, she remembered everything that happened, and I gave her my number in case she ever needed me to punch somebody else for her."

"And did she?" Matt prompted. He didn't actually care that much, but it was a decent story and it was definitely helping him keep his mind off his injuries.

"Yeah, two days later," Frank grinned. "She wasn't calling for a bodyguard, though. When I picked up, she told me she hadn't been able to stop thinking about me and was wondering if we could talk for a while so she could 'satisfy her curiosity'."

"She sounds very forward."

"You've got no idea. She's absolutely shameless, especially when she's drunk. You know, when she called me, she spent the whole conversation trying to pretend like she wasn't getting herself off."

"Wait, what?!"

"So, I had to sit there for an hour and listen to her try not to moan, and she's usually pretty good at staying quiet, but sometimes she gets so fuckin' wet that she just can't."

"That's disturbing," Matt lied, and was once again ignored.

"It's real easy for her to cover up the noises coming from her mouth, right? But the other ones. . . not so much. So, the whole time, I was just on my couch talking to her, and I was going absolutely insane 'cause I could hear what she was doing. After a little while, I just snapped and I told her if she wanted to hear my voice that badly, she could come over and I'd help her out."

"And?. . ."

"And she did."

"You slept with her the second time you met?"

"Yep. And the third, and the forth. . . probably the first eight times we got together. I mean, we were just goin' at it like every single night. It was amazing. She's so fuckin' tight, like tighter than most virgins. And she's damn good with her mouth. Like, the first time she sucked me off I almost saw your God. I don't think there's a single thing she can't do. Not much she won't do either."

"Really, dude. Stop."

"Whatever, man. I realized I actually liked her when she spent a full weekend at my place. We went out for lunch and played cards and watched a movie. She was just so smart and funny and I couldn't stand the thought of her leaving," Frank reminisced.

"So, is that when you asked her out?"

"No, that was when I asked her to move in with me."

Matt didn't even know where to start unpacking that. Before he could say anything, Frank stopped walking in front of a tall staircase behind a brick building.

"This is me," he announced.

"Hold on, you still haven't answered my question," Matt reminded him. "Why did you ask her to sleep with someone else?"

"Oh, yeah," Frank mused. "About a month ago, I went out for drinks with this old friend of mine, and was going on and on about how he hadn't gotten laid since his divorce. He seemed about her type, so I took him back to our place and had her take care of him for me."

"And she did it, just like that?"

"I told you she was great, didn't I?" Frank beamed.

"And neither of you cared?" That was something Matt was having trouble comprehending. He'd always been pretty possessive in his relationships, and the thought of sharing his partner was completely foreign to him.

"I am not a selfish man, Red. Anyone who dies without experiencing that pussy has never truly lived."

"Good to know."

Frank leaned casually against the wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So, uh. . . you interested?"

It look Matt a moment to process what he was being asked, and when he did, he didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, he didn't want to take any more help from Frank, especially not for something like this. He didn't want to come between a happy couple, either, even by invite. On the other hand, it had been a while, and the girl that had been described to him sounded remarkably satisfying. He began to realize that Frank was right: He seriously needed to get laid.

Frank decided Matt had been thinking a little too long.

"Do you like eating pussy?"

Matt was startled out of his inner turmoil. "You can't just fucking ask someone that," he hissed.

"Why not? You seem like you would," Frank stated nonchalantly.

"Fine. Yes, I do."

"Good. I'm tellin' you right now, there ain't a woman in all of New York that tastes sweeter than my baby. You get between her legs, you come out knowing things you didn't think were possible, swear to God."

"I find that hard to believe," Matt scoffed.

"I mean it. I could spend hours down there. I did once, actually, 'till we both passed out. . . But I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself, won't you? Come on, man. You really need this."

"I don't know, it just doesn't sound like such a good idea."

Frank rolled his eyes. "We're all adults, we can have a little fun. If you want, you can come up to get your dick sucked and then head home. It doesn't have to be a big thing."

"You seem very adamant about this," Matt noted.

"Well, I do aim to please," Frank quipped. "I'm talking about you and her. I think my girl would have a lot of fun with you."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're pretty easy on the eyes, you know. Also, she seems to have a thing for jaded middle-aged vigilantes. So, what do you say? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Murdock."

Matt sighed, and reached up to rub the back of his neck. For the life of him, he couldn't seem to remember any of his reasons for saying no.

"Alright," he decided.

Frank's face broke into a wolfish grin, and he began ascending the staircase towards the window at the very top of the building. Matt followed close behind him, wincing at the pain in his sides as he climbed. When the two men got to the top, Frank knocked four times at the glass.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

You had just finished changing into one of Frank's old t-shirts when you heard the familiar rattling of the window pane. You dried your hands on the bathroom towel and smiled as you went to let your boyfriend back inside.

Using that word was strange to you, but still it made you giddy with excitement. You never thought you would meet someone wonderful enough to settle down with, but finally you had. Frank was the most perfect man you'd ever known. He understood you in ways no one else could, and with him, you were satisfied. That was a miracle in and of itself.

You slid open the creaky window with a hard push, and watched as Frank hopped through it with a gracefulness that contrasted sharply with his bulky exterior. He seemed completely unharmed, as per usual, but you had still been worried about him. There was always that small chance he would come home covered in his own blood and full of broken bones. You were about to tear into him for not leaving a note when you noticed the red figure slipping in behind him.

"Hey, sweetheart, you remember me telling you about Matt, don't you?" Frank asked, cradling your face in his hands and giving you a sweet hello kiss.

"Is this him?" you responded, giving the new arrival a once-over.

"Yeah, this is him. Hey, Red, why don't you introduce yourself."

Matt stepped up to you and offered his hand for you to shake.

"Hi, I'm Matt. Frank's already told me all about you," he said cheerfully, almost like he knew something you didn't.

Frank stepped up behind you, resting his hand on your lower back and leaning in to tell you something.

"If you're up for it, I'm gonna need you to do me a favor, alright?" he mumbled. You could tell Matt heard everything. You remembered what Frank had told you about him and his unique talents.

You turned towards Frank, sliding your hands under his jacket and leaning in close.

"By that, do you mean you're gonna need me to do him a favor?" you wondered. Frank tucked your hair behind your ear and twirled it idly around his fingers.

"He's pretty high strung right now. I figured he might need a little somethin' special to relax."

"I'm perfectly capable of getting laid on my own, Frank," Matt butted in. Frank ignored him.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"

You laughed. "Yes, about twelve times this morning. You don't need to flatter me, I'll do it."

"You're amazing," Frank marveled, giving you another chaste kiss before turning to address Matt.

"How about you start by taking that stupid helmet off. Let my baby see what she's working with."

A small thrill ran through you when you heard Frank address you as his. You watched as Matt pulled his mask off, revealing the rest of his face. He looked a little nervous but you couldn't see why. He was absolutely gorgeous. His messy hair from the suit only added to the effects of his boyish charm. You noticed he did look rather tired, but that did nothing to dull his handsome features. You could tell you were gonna have a lot of fun with this one.

"He's even prettier than you," you joked.

Frank swatted you lightly on the ass and pushed you in Matt's direction. "Watch it," he growled playfully.

You stalked over to Matt and kissed him lightly on the cheek before pulling him over to the couch.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" you asked gently.

Matt swallowed thickly, trying to adjust to his situation. "Yeah, I'm okay," he responded. You hoped he'd settle in soon. There was something about him that told you he could be a lot of fun when he warmed up. Then again, that was what you were there for.

"What do you want?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Really, I can just go if-"

"No!" you interrupted. "I don't want you to go, I want to make you feel better. I'm okay with whatever you want, promise."

Matt seemed to be struggling to come up with what to say. Honestly, you were feeling a little nervous too, even though there was no reason to be. Suddenly, you realized what the issue was.

"Hey, Frank?" you called out. He came over to the two of you holding a couple of beers in one hand. He passed one to Matt, who accepted it gratefully.

You waited until he was next to you before admitting your problem to him. "I think we feel a little weird because we don't have any rules. Could you maybe. . . tell us what to do?" you asked.

Frank nodded, sitting down in the ratty old armchair next to the couch.

"Why don't you ask me what you wanna do with him, and I'll give you the go-ahead. Sound good, baby?"

You looked over at Matt who seemed to have relaxed some. You definitely found the source of the problem. All you needed was permission.

"Can I kiss him?" you asked.

Frank's eyes were sparkling with his newfound control. "You can kiss him all you want, sugar."

You slid closer to Matt, turning his head towards yours. "Stop me if you get uncomfortable," you whispered, and then leaned in to press your lips to his. Matt groaned and immediately deepened the kiss, eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue. It was obvious now how much he needed this.

He tasted good in a way you couldn't explain, and you didn't want to pull away until you'd figured out what it was. You could feel the throbbing in your core picking up with every passing moment. Your breath caught when you felt Matt reach up to run his fingers through your hair. Wanting to move things along, you climbed into his lap so you could be pressed against him, chest-to-chest.

"Pull her hair. She likes that," Frank suggested.

Matt complied, tugging gently, then harder when he felt you shiver against him. Leave it to Frank to know exactly what you want and when you want it. You pulled back from the kiss to look at your moderator, rolling your hips hesitantly to gauge his reaction. He nodded, and you watched him palm himself roughly through his pants. That was all the encouragement you needed.

Returning to the kiss, you began grinding down hard against him, hoping that he could feel your movements through his thick suit. Matt reacted in a way that showed you he certainly could, gasping and grabbing onto your hips to push up against you. You moaned when one particularly hard thrust allowed you to feel the outline of his cock through your clothes.

"Oh, what the fuck," you breathed, pulling away from the kiss in shock. There was no way in hell he was that big. You settled your weight fully on his lap, gently rocking back in forth to feel more of him. You had to make sure that you weren't just imagining things. You weren't. He was absolutely fucking huge. You weren't sure how he was supposed to fit inside you, but dammit if you weren't excited to find out.

Matt seemed amused by your reaction to your recent discovery. He could smell the sudden increase in your arousal that accompanied the feeling of you getting wetter. You felt his hands tighten on your hips, holding you still as he grinded up against you. Every thrust was deep and dirty, inciting the growing heartbeat between your legs. It felt like he was showing off, or using his knowledge of a secret you had to tease you.

"Feel something you like, baby?" Frank asked from the sidelines.

"Uh-huh," You responded inattentively. You were too focused on the feeling of Matt's bulge rubbing against you to say much more than that.

"Why don't you head on down to the bedroom, alright sweetheart? We'll meet you there in a minute," Frank urged.

Reluctantly, Matt released you and you wandered down the hall to wait for the two men to come join you.

Frank waited for you to be out of earshot before moving to the couch next to Matt. They sat for a second, sipping at their drinks before Frank spoke.

"I know you have a fuck ton of ideas about how you should treat a woman, but I'm gonna need you to forget that shit before I take you back there, okay? I'm doing this for you, but if you don't make this good for her, I will kick you out, got it? She's not interested in your kindness tonight. She wants you to treat her like an object. Like a dumb whore you're just using to get off. I know you've got a dark side in there somewhere, Red. I need you to tell me right now if you think you can use it."

Matt never expected that to be something that would intrigue him. It had always seemed so cruel and taboo. . . but if it was what you wanted. . .

"I can."

"Good." Frank stood up and began walking towards the bedroom. After a few steps, he remembered something and turned back around. "Also, what the hell, man? I'm not letting you fuck her without stretching her out first. I know I said you could hurt her, but I don't want you to make her bleed."

When they made it to the bedroom, they found you laying back against the pillows, gently teasing your clit through your panties. When they came through the doorway, you pulled your hand away, looking up at Frank shyly. He raised an eyebrow at you, scoffing at your innocent expression.

"You couldn't wait two minutes?" He sighed. "I'm not gonna embarrass you in front of our guest, baby, but next time you might not be so lucky."

"I'm sorry," you whined.

"No you're not." Frank came around the bed to sit next to you and directed Matt to sit down on your other side. "I think it's about time to take this off, what do you think?" Frank asked, tugging on the hem of your (his) shirt. You nodded, and he pulled it over your head, leaving you completely naked save for your soft cotton panties.

"What do you want right now, baby? His mouth or his fingers?" Frank offered, turning your head towards him. You were a little confused that those were your only options. Weren't you supposed to be making Matt feel good? Confusion aside, you still couldn't choose. They both sounded very appealing.

"Damn, Red. You must've done a good job back there. She's already having trouble thinking," he teased, flicking you gently on the forehead. "Why don't you use both?" he suggested.

Matt smiled, beginning to understand how Frank expected him to treat you. "If she's all fuzzy from a little kiss, are you sure she'd be able to handle both?"

"I guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?"

You weren't sure what it was, but when Frank talked about you like you weren't there, a combination of arousal and safety washed over you. It always seemed to put you in a different headspace.

Matt climbed on top of you, finding your lips again as he slid your underwear down past your knees for you to kick off. He pulled your legs apart and began tracing your folds gently with his fingertips. Every touch was a completely new sensation. Matt was experimenting, figuring out where you were most sensitive, which motions you preferred and how hard he had to rub your clit to make you whimper.

He circled his fingers around your entrance, dipping into you just enough to feel you pulse and tighten around him, trying to pull him deeper. Right before you started begging, he pushed two of his fingers all the way in, curling them to explore your soft walls. It didn't take long for you to gasp and melt into the pillows as he brushed against your sweet spot. You hid your face in his neck, whining as he assaulted it over and over while bringing his thumb up to massage your clit.

Frank shushed you gently from his spot on the bed, reaching over to stroke your hair as you shook from the intense stimulation. You felt yourself dripping down Matt's fingers, and you could hear the wet sounds you were making as he fucked them in and out of your tight heat.

He pulled you right up to the edge before you heard Frank tell him to stop.

"Not yet," he muttered. "She'll get worn out after the third one, so you should probably make 'em count."

You huffed as Matt pulled his fingers out, earning you a proud and dangerous smirk. He gave you another sweet kiss as an apology.

"Sorry, angel. I don't make the rules," he reminded you.

Any disappointment you felt was soon replaced by the image of Matt sliding down the bed to get between your legs and pull them over his shoulders. Almost as an afterthought, he brought his hand up to his mouth to taste the palm you had drenched. As soon as his tongue touched his skin, you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. His eyes darkened to look almost predatory, and he tightened his grip on your thighs. He glanced in Frank's direction, silently begging for his permission to proceed.

You didn't see Frank's approval, but you knew exactly when Matt got it because he dove into your cunt like it was a fucking desert oasis. In a lot of ways, it was. He wasted no time with teasing, instead shoving his tongue inside of you as deep as he could get it. Your vision went blurry as your eyes rolled back in your head. Grasping desperately at his hair, you pulled him harder against you until you were worried you would hurt him, but he barely seemed to notice.

He drew his tongue out to give your soaked pussy a few hungry licks, drinking up everything that dripped out of you. The wet noises he created with every suck or swipe of his tongue were enough to have your face flushed with embarrassment and excitement.

Feeling ignored, Frank grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a fervent kiss. He dislodged one of your hands from Matt's hair, guiding it over to rub at his clothed erection. You squeezed him through his pants, humming happily when you felt him twitch and grind up into your palm. Deftly, you undid his button and zipper, tugging his pants down just enough to slip your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. You didn't do anything else until he said it was okay.

"You want it, baby?" he murmured against your lips. You nodded, pushing your hand farther in, but you just barely managed to brush against it before he grabbed your wrist. He broke the kiss to look you in the eye, moving his hand from your jaw to gently hold your neck.

"You gotta use your words, sweetheart. You know that," he crooned.

"Please, can I touch it?" you sighed, moaning when Matt started stroking your clit again. Frank used his grip on your wrist to pull your hand deeper in until you could firmly grab his aching cock. You began tugging it slowly as it pulsed and hardened further in your grasp. You swiped the pad of your thumb over his slit and felt him drip onto your fingers, easing the glide of your palm.

You felt yourself getting close again when Matt stuffed his fingers back inside you and sucked hard at your clit. This time, no one stopped you from falling over the edge. You sobbed as your release rushed through you, tightening your thighs around Matt's head and your hand around Frank's cock. Matt groaned against you, savoring the scent and the taste of your satisfaction. Frank hissed at the added pressure, thrusting up into your fist which was slick with his precum.

The two men reluctantly pulled away from you as you came down from your high, giving you time to catch your breath. They returned to their positions on either side of you, stroking your hair or your shoulders as you refocused on reality.

"You were right," Matt announced, breathing almost as heavily as you were.

Frank smirked, looking over you to assess Matt's disheveled state. "Yeah? 'Bout what, exactly?" he asked.

"Everything," He admitted dreamily. To anyone who didn't know the effect you had on fortunate men, he might seem drunk or high. You supposed he kinda was.

"You were talking about me?" you whispered, hiding your face in Frank's neck. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

"I was just braggin' about how good you are, baby," he promised.

Matt laughed quietly at Frank's statement like it was an inside joke no one else would understand.

"He said a lot more than that," Matt disclosed to you. "He said you were the biggest slut he'd ever met. Honestly, he would not shut up about how tight you were, or how good you tasted. I thought he was exaggerating, but I think you just proved me wrong."

You smiled into Frank's shoulder, enjoying the attention. He tapped you lightly on the hip to get you to focus on him.

"I believe you were just given a compliment," he signaled.

Taking the hint, you rolled over to face Matt, angling his face towards you to give him a soft kiss as a thank you.

You looked down to where he was straining against the fabric of his suit. A small wet spot was becoming more visible at the tip of his swollen bulge. You caught yourself before you stared for too long, worried you might start salivating if you let your mind wander far enough.

"That looks uncomfortable," you pointed out. "You should probably take it off before it starts hurting you."

Matt agreed, standing up beside the bed to start stripping off his clothes. If he were dressed normally, you would offer to help, but you didn't even know where to begin with that thing.

"I'm sure she wants to return the favor," Frank advised Matt. "I'll go ahead get her stretched out while you use her mouth, alright?"

When Matt was in just his boxers, you tugged him back down to take your spot in the middle and climbed on top of him. Frank had stood up to finish taking off his own clothes, and when he was done, he kneeled behind you on the bed to get you in the right position.

You found yourself face-to-face with Matt's thinly veiled hard-on and your ass up high for Frank to take you from behind. He slid three of his fingers inside you, pumping them in and out a few times to see how relaxed you already were. As soon as you had freed Matt from his final barricade, Frank pulled his fingers out and shoved his cock inside you in one smooth thrust. You moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion, wincing at the stretch but enjoying it nonetheless. Frank gave you a moment to gather your bearings before he began to move.

"Focus on him, baby. He's the one you're supposed to be paying attention to," Frank directed. That was easier said than done when you were being relentlessly fucked from behind, but you had been wanting to get your mouth on him for a while now, and you weren't gonna pass up the opportunity.

Now that you were seeing him in person, Matt's size was almost intimidating. You were glad Frank took it upon himself to stretch you out first, because you were sure you'd be feeling it in your stomach when it was time to switch. His head looked tight and angry, and you watched as a small bead of clear fluid welled out of the tip and ran down the side. You leaned in to catch it with your tongue, whining softly at the taste.

"There you go, sweetheart," Frank praised.

You licked a long stripe up the underside, stopping when you got to the top to suckle gently at the head. You wrapped your hand around the base to stroke him firmly as you focused on taking the first few inches comfortably. It was already stretching your mouth quite a bit and your jaw was aching from trying to force yourself down on it. Before long, your spit was dripping onto your fingers and sliding down to settle at the base, creating slick sounds as you tugged at his length.

You moaned around him when Frank gave a particularly pointed thrust, nailing your spot dead-on. Provoked by your reaction, he repeated the same motion until your eyes rolled back in your head and you could no longer focus on the task at hand.

"Come on, pretty girl. You can take more than that," Frank fussed. "If you want his help, you can ask for it. Don't be shy, baby."

You were reluctant to ask because you wanted to prove yourself to Matt, but you didn't think you would be able to take more on your own. Usually, you were pretty good relaxing your throat, but there was no way you could swallow even half of him without choking. If you wanted to make him feel good, you would need him to take over and force you to blow as much of him as he wanted.

You pulled off of his cock teasingly, hollowing out your cheeks on the way up and swirling your tongue around the tip. You gave it one more little kiss before resuming your strokes, looking up at him to see which motions garnered the best reactions.

"Please," you whined, using your other hand to guide his to your hair.

"Please what, sweet girl?" Matt asked, petting you gently where you placed his hand. You swallowed your pride, giving in completely to both of them. You no longer had anything to prove. You were ready to be used however they saw fit, not caring about anything except making them feel good.

"Please, fuck my mouth."

"Aww, is it too big for you?" Matt consoled, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Do you need my help, angel? You're already being fucked on one end, is that not enough?" he mocked, tightening his grip on your hair.

He knocked your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own so he could rub it across your lips. You opened your mouth for him, and he slowly pulled your head down, forcing you to take him in until you choked. He held you there for a moment, groaning and thrusting up into the wet heat of your mouth before letting you take a breath. He continued like that for a while, guiding your head up and down, forcing you to go deeper each time until you couldn't take anymore.

Behind you, Frank wedged a finger in beside his cock, grunting at the added friction. You gasped at the new stretch, your release slamming into you unexpectedly. You arched your back and pushed into the feeling as he deftly attacked your sweet spot. Frank grinned at your reaction, smacking your ass once to watch you jump and hear your muffled yelp.

"I'm just tryin' to get you loosened up. I didn't mean for you to like it that much, you slut," he teased affectionately. He slipped in another finger, curling them to tug gently at your entrance until he felt that you were ready.

He took his fingers away, giving you a few more hard thrusts before he slid his cock out too, leaving you completely empty. He left a sweet kiss at the base of your spine, letting you know you had done a good job, and moved around you to talk to Matt.

"She's ready for you, if you're interested," Frank informed cockily. He watched how Matt was thoroughly fucking your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with every thrust, pulling you down to meet him half-way. You were doing much better than Frank had expected you to. It looked like your mind was somewhere far away, and you were just letting Matt use your mouth as a cocksleeve.

He started slowing down his movements, letting you up further and further, until you were back to just sucking at his head while he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. Finally, he pulled you off of him with a soft, wet pop, edging out from under you so he could switch places with Frank. You whined at your sudden emptiness, burying your face in Frank's stomach as he took Matt's vacant spot.

"Is she always this desperate?" Matt asked, replacing Frank behind you. Frank laughed, caressing your head softly as you began mouthing and licking at his abs.

"Pretty much. Actually, she's doing better than she usually is. I think she's just upset that she didn't get you to finish."

"Really? She likes that part?"

"Oh, she loves it. Some days, she even asks me to pull out so I can come in her mouth. Ain't that right, baby?"

You nodded into his hip, sucking a dark bruise into his v-line.

"Why don't you go ahead and finish me off," Frank suggested to you. "I'm sure it'll make you feel better."

He grabbed himself around the base, enticingly pressing the wet head against the seam of your lips. Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth and swallowed him all the way down. You moaned lowly, purring at the feeling of being able to take him comfortably down your throat. He wasn't small by any means, but he was more familiar and significantly less jaw-breaking that Matt.

"Fuck, baby," Frank groaned, tugging at your hair. You were content just to stay like that for a while, holding his heavy length on your tongue and feeling him subtly grind his tip against the back of your throat. With your head still, you could feel every little twitch and taste yourself in every drop that leaked down your throat.

"You wanna move at all?" Frank asked, his muscles tight with restraint. In response, you nuzzled your nose against his skin, swallowing around him in the hopes that he'd let you stay there.

"No? You just like having your sweet little holes filled, huh? That's fine, sugar. You don't have to move an inch, but I'm gonna need more than that if you wanna make me come. Do you wanna make me come, baby?"

You hummed your assent, the vibrations sending a shiver up Frank's spine.

"Then suck," he commanded, and you obeyed. You used as much suction as you could manage, creating a satisfying friction without all the typical motions. You teased the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue, listening to his quiet grunts as you drew him closer to the edge.

Behind you, Matt was listening to the sound of your wet cunt dripping onto the bedsheets. He kneaded your ass and thighs in his hands, ensuring that you were fully relaxed before trying to fuck you. Soon, he was nestling his cock between your soaked folds, lining himself up with your tight entrance.

He rubbed the small of your back as he began pushing himself in. He was met with an alarming amount of resistance, and he didn't even get the first inch in before you were clenching down around him and letting out a pained whimper. He pulled back, afraid he would tear something if he carried on.

"Frank, it's not gonna fit," Matt told him. Frank huffed, too busy chasing his own pleasure to think about problem-solving.

"It'll fit, just keep going," he reassured. "She likes the stretch. Hurry up and fuck her already."

"If I tried, I would break her," Matt warned. "Why don't we test out a different position?"

"Fine. Hang on for just a second."

Frank tightened his grip on your hair, whispering a quick apology before pulling you halfway off of him. He gave you no warning before he was slamming back in, forcing a surprised squeak out of your chest as he ruthlessly fucked your mouth. Barely a minute passed before Frank's thrusts grew sloppy and more desperate. His cock pulsed wildly against your tongue, and he let out a guttural groan as he came hard down your throat. You eagerly swallowed every drop that spilled out of him, waiting for him to soften a bit before releasing him from your mouth. Laving sweetly at the sides, you cleaned him up as best you could before he pushed your head away from oversensitivity.

"Alright," Frank mumbled, scooting over so you could take his spot in the middle. "On your back, baby."

You flipped over to face Matt, opening your legs so he could settle in between them.

"Pretty slut," he commended, leaning in to kiss you as he lined up with your needy hole once more. "We're gonna make it fit, alright? Don't you worry your cute little head about it."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he began pushing his hips towards yours, his thick cockhead stretching you out obscenely. You winced at the pain, trying to force yourself to relax, but it wasn't working. Matt grunted at the vice grip you had on him, but he didn't advance further until he felt you could handle more.

From beside you, Frank played with your hair and kissed your neck in all your favorite spots until he had taken your mind off the pain. When Matt felt you unclench, he gave you another inch, once again stopping to allow you time to adjust. He continued on like that for a while, feeding his cock into your pussy in small increments until he was completely buried inside you.

As soon as the pain subsided, feeling something that deep was absolutely incredible. You felt yourself get wetter when you realized you could just barely make out the outline of his length poking through your tummy. It was evident to both of you from the very start that this wasn't gonna last long.

"Holy shit, you're squeezing me so tight," Matt groaned, starting a series of very shallow thrusts to get you used to the feeling. "This is what you were made for, sweetheart. You feel so fuckin' good," he praised. Slowly, he began picking up speed, fucking you harder and deeper like he couldn't control it anymore. You felt so full, you figured it was a miracle that he was even able to get half-way in. You couldn't stop the noises that Matt punched out of you with every heightened thrust. Because of his immense size, there was never a moment when he wasn't rubbing directly against your most sensitive areas.

Matt could sense that you were getting close, and he knew he wouldn't be far behind you. He started snapping his hips into yours impossibly harder, spurred on by the prospect of your impending release.

"You gonna come on my cock, angel? It's okay, you can come," Matt encouraged. He heard you cry out and smelled the sudden spike in your arousal. He knew he had you right on the edge. "Come for me sweetheart," he breathed.

You almost screamed as you came, your body arching up off the bed, every muscle tightening and trembling as your pleasure coursed through them. Matt cursed at the feeling of your walls clenching and fluttering around him. He let out a subdued moan as he fucked into you three more times before coming deep inside you. You felt the comforting warmth dripping down your thighs when he slipped out and collapsed on the bed beside you.

When you came down from your high, the night's exertion finally caught up with you. You cuddled into Frank's chest, and he pulled you closer, murmuring to you about how good you were for them. Matt slotted his body into place behind yours, leaving kisses on the back of your neck and stroking your side gently.

"Thank you," he whispered, and before you could respond, he was already asleep. You were about to follow suit, but a thought popped into your head, keeping you awake.

"Is this gonna be a one-time-thing?" you asked Frank, opening your eyes to see his face. He didn't seem surprised by your question. Honestly, he seemed like he'd been expecting it.

"It doesn't have to be," he responded. "If he's ever up for it again, I'd be fine with it."

You nodded, closing your eyes again and starting to drift off to sleep. You passed out in less than a minute, but not before you heard Frank say something that, in the morning, you thought must have been a dream. Nevertheless, it was nice to pretend it was real.

"I love you, baby."

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

#frank castle fanfiction #punisher #frank castle smut #frank castle #frank castle x reader #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal smut #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock smut #charlie cox #frank castle x matt murdock x reader

984 notes · View notes

pokegalla · 3 months

Text

Another trade of the classic multiparted headcanons on my blog! But this time?

With the creepy bois✨ (Plus first post of headcanons for them! :D)

Trade/Requested by @tryslogic

(Warning: Slight nsfw and damn near borderline all things considered with these guys-)

How Touchy Can They Be In Public With Slightly Large Chested S/o!

Jeff:

* Bruh. Without a fucking doubt- this goddamn horndog. Walk him with a leash-

* He would sneak up on you and hug you from behind before just giving a big ass squeeze- you’d bonk him but that’ll just make him laugh. He’ll use your damn chest like a stress ball, having a shit eating grin because he just KNOWS how much of an asshole he’s being. (And he knows you just love him too much 😌✨)

* In private it technically can get pretty fluffy surprisingly. Using your chest like a pillow after a long day of killing? God it’s heaven sent to him. Just hope he isn’t too messy though- but of course he isn’t letting the opportunity go to waste to tease you. Littering your neck and chest with love marks? Drives him CRAZY. Yeah you ain’t walking if he’s in that mood-

* And man you are just a glutton for punishment if you wearing a boob window- he loves the view but he HATES how the others are gawking at you. You end up getting pulled to the side. “Fucking tease….better start screaming my name. I want them to hear who you belong too~”

* He’s a little possessive and protective buuuut in a more heartfelt way surprisingly. Will he admit it? Over his dead body-

Eyeless Jack:

* Ah now here’s a more respectable guy. For a kidney eating demon, he respects boundaries! He’s a monster but not THAT kind-

* Noooot saying he wouldn’t stare though. I mean kinda hard not to yknow? He’d probably tease you quietly about how good you’re looking right now. But he would never just outright just….grab it. Like why??? (Honestly he could though. Sneaky boi-)

* But in private he is WAY more snuggly. Hope you don’t mind black streaks on your shirts. Because he is diving into those twin peaks✨ he feels so safe in your arms….he can’t help but wrap his arms around your waist. You might be stuck for quite awhile. But in the meantime? You get a chance to see him without the mask! And you can’t skip out on that now can you~?

* Now here’s where you end up tipping the scale with him: Boob window. God you just look so good in it. He is biting his lip and even starts whispering teases in your ear. “Tryna grab my attention that badly~? It might just work~” I know yall definitely had a quickie in the forest. Hope you kept quiet~✨

* Overall he’s just a pretty chill guy! Who just can’t resist you~✨

Laughing Jack:

* Ok there’s no sugarcoating this. This is the worst motherfucker here. And THE biggest tease. FOR FUN-

* Does not help if you wear layers, his lanky ass arms will always manage to slip through. And his big ass grin just tells you he KNOWS this is pissing you off so he honks it before laughing like a maniac. He boops your cheek though to show you he’s just playing around.

* In private….I mean not much of a difference? Well other then straight up picking you up to plop his chin in your cleavage and looking up at you with a smirk. Orrrr having your chest on his head like a damn hat- he can’t really snuggle like the others without the risk of stabbing you with that sharp ass nose 💦 but he makes due with what he can✨

* Now the boob window he will SHAMELESSLY stare and even TUG on it to see more- “Heh~ What a pretty little view~ Might as well show it all~” and that bastard actually teases you to the point of being needy. He finds it amusing. But at least he’ll reward his little doll in the end~✨

* He just loves messing with you but really that’s just how he shows you his love✨

#my writing #self insert #funny #cute #fluffy headcanons #sfw #jeff the killer x reader #eyeless jack x reader #laughing jack x reader #creepypasta hcs #writing trade #request answered

197 notes · View notes

rhenuvee · 7 months

Note

hi omg im so sorry can i request a kaveh x reader but YOU KNOW HOW THAT ONE "WRITING ON THE WALL" SONG GOES?? LIKE READER SEES KAVEH STABBING HIS DOLL AND LIKE TRIES TO COMFORT ☹️☹️☹️ ANY LENGTH WILL DO PLEEK

A/N: Hi! Thank you for your request! This will just be a short piece since I'm a little busy rn! // Y'all this song hit me so hard :(

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Kaveh, I'm home!" you shouted as you walked through the entrance of your home. You sighed as your busy day in Sumeru finally came to a close, finally giving you some time with your lover.

However you hear no response from him. You put down your stuff and realize you hear hammering sounds- he's probably working on another project. You always admired Kaveh's work- seeing how he spends so much time and effort in creating the perfect designs, by thinking of the perfect colour, material, form...

"Kaveh!" you shout again as you walk towards the work room. You realize the hammering is louder than usual, and you hope he's working safely. However, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong this time.

As you open the door, your heart instantly drops when you see him hunched over, hammering aggressively on something. The room is a mess, a mix of different materials in pieces, and unfinished sketches that are crumpled and thrown randomly across the room.

"My love...?" you whisper, slowly approaching him. You realize he's choking out sobs as he's hammering, and that the chisel was actually puncturing a little doll that seemed to resemble him. You quickly crouch down and put your hand on his shoulder, as a signal to let him know you were here.

"Kaveh-"

"It's no use... it's all worthless." he finally says. Your heart breaks at how dejected your lover was. You knew with how hard he works, some clients probably didn't like his vision, and all the things not working out just came piling on top of him. "I spent so much of my time, making these designs... And they're all garbage."

"Oh Kaveh, my love..." you embrace with him behind, and take the hammer out of his hands. "Don't say that. I can't think of anyone else who could pull off what you think of and make with the same amount of care. Your designs are wonderful."

You both sit in silence for a while, only Kaveh's sobs getting softer until he calmed down. You lift yourself off him and look him in the eyes and smile. You bring your fingers up to smooth his bangs to see his face. His usually passionate eyes were now exhausted and dark- but you want him to know you love him through these hard times.

"Why don't I run you a bath, my love? And we can use those face masks we bought the other week."

"But, the client-"

"I don't want to hear it. You can tell me about it after. C'mon handsome, let's go." You stand up, and reach your hand out to him. Kaveh stood up slowly, letting you bring him to the bathroom. "Now you sit here and wait, I'll go get the bath salts. Here, hold this for me."

Kaveh sits on the ledge as you turn on the hot water in the tub, then quickly run out to grab the salt. He then opens his palm, and he sees the doll of himself that he was stabbing... Then he sees something else- another doll, but the one of you. He remembers when he made the dolls before. A cute model of the two of you to set a human scale for his projects. But now he sees them as another kind of value.

"Kaveh, I'm back- why are you looking at me like that?"

A part of him hates burdening you, dragging you into his sorrows. But you remind him that you're here with him, and that you'll always support him. He sighs, finally deciding to give in and take of himself with you.

"Thank you, my love."

"Of course."

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin kaveh #kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh imagines

90 notes · View notes

not-a-space-alien · 8 months

Text

All Creatures Great and Small Chapter 16: Tea Party

Surprise! Two in one day. Sometimes you just get a little excited over your blorbos >:3

In this chapter:

youtube

Story Masterpost

On AO3

As always thanks to @static-stars and @appelsiinilight ! :)

Important note: Since is the first chapter in the series that's had large portions of dialogue in Pixish interspersed within large portions of English dialogue, I decided to differentiate the two languages by putting Pixish dialogue in italics. Thistle, of course, understands both, but I thought it was important to make it obvious at a glance which language was actually being spoken because not all characters in this chapter are bilingual.

***

Marcy, a human who spoke English and a little bit of Pixish.

Thistle, a pixie who spoke Pixish and English.

Severa, a naga who spoke only Pixish.

Jewel, a merminnow who spoke English and his native underwater language, which no one else at the table spoke.

Moon, a moth fairy who spoke English, Pixish, and a number of other unknown languages.

And Violet, a borrower who only spoke English.

For someone who'd never expected to meet anyone who wasn't a Pixie, and who'd only been vaguely aware of the existence of other languages until recently, it was a lot. Especially since they were all going to be at the same table.

Marcy helped Thistle set up. They got out the biggest table he had–it was from a doll tea party set. It was always a challenge to find furniture that was scaled exactly right since there was such a variety, and this particular set he treasured both because it happened to be exactly the right size for him, and because it came with a set of usable teacups and a teapot, all made out of fine ceramic. Thistle privately thought it was too nice for a child to use for play, and any parent giving this to a clumsy child would be a fool.

He got out the plates he had too–likewise from a set for dolls. These ones were a little too big, but Thistle figured that was all right since Moon and Severa were bigger than him anyway. Marcy got him a nice, thin towel that made an excellent tablecloth, which he shook out and put over the table before putting out all the place settings. Marcy dug out the castaways from other mismatched sets that Thistle didn’t use–for Violet, a chair from a set that had been too small, and for Moon, one from a set that had been too big. Thistle had Marcy set the table on stacks of notecards to elevate it until Moon’s chair was the correct height, then do the same for the rest of the chairs until they could all sit equally level at the table. Violet’s chair was cartoonish–she would have to climb a stack more notecard than chair to get up to the table, but the alternative was making Moon sit with his knees to his chest, which Thistle didn’t want to do. The chairs were all boosted to the appropriate height in the end, and Thistle preened, so excited about having such a variety of people to talk to.

The whole setup was placed directly next to Marcy’s table setting, so she could sit at the human-sized chair to participate…and be within grabbing distance of the participants.

Teddy helped him make some small cakes, which he set out with a little bowl of jam. Colin got out the mealworms and put them in an ornamental dish, and also arranged crackers, cheese, and fruit at Thistle’s instructions. Marcy started brewing the tea so it would be hot when everyone arrived.

Teddy and Colin asked if they should participate, and Thistle apologetically told them it would probably be better to minimize the number of humans looming over them. He didn’t specify names, but he knew Moon would probably be incredibly unhappy with having three giants at the table. Teddy and Colin made themselves scarce, wishing Thistle good luck and shutting themselves in their bedroom to watch TV. He could see the disappointment on their faces, though they were happy to support him. They were good friends like that.

He didn’t blame them for being disappointed. This was going to be great.

Jewel arrived first, mostly because he arrived when Thistle instructed Marcy to scoop up some water and carry him over to the table in a mug. She set it down and pushed the cup flush with the small table, so Jewel didn’t have to lean over so much.

“Hey, bug boy!” Jewel shouted as he was set down. “This is quite a spread you’ve set out!”

“Yeah!” Thistle enthused. “Teddy helped me–no!” He cried this last part with horror as Jewel tried to take some of the cakes. “Stop! We can’t eat until everyone else is here!”

Jewel let go and held his hands up defensively. “Sheesh! All right.”

“No need to be snippish, Thistle,” Marcy chided.

“Sorry,” Thistle said, embarrassed.

Jewel crossed his arms and rested them on the lip of the cup. “Marcy… Are you…?” He looked at her from under his eyebrows, clearly struggling to get the words out. “Um.”

He’s scared, Marcy realized. She drew her hands around the cup, which caused him to flinch back, which wasn’t at all what she’d intended.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she said. “I promise. I’ll be keeping a very close eye on her.”

Jewel nodded, some of his tension dissipating. “Right. Thanks. Maybe this will be nice…or at the very least, not a disaster.”

Violet arrived next. Petunia was dragged along behind her, clutching her leg, sobbing and wailing about how she wanted to go to the tea party too. Violet told her over and over that she couldn't because it was too dangerous, and eventually Marcy convinced her to go sit in the pink dollhouse instead.

Violet was still a little nervous about being handled, so she rappelled herself up to the top of the table with a grappling hook. “Eh,” she said. “I forgot ‘bout the fishmen.”

“Yo,” Jewel said, raising his hand. "I'm Jewel." He'd been trying to get less shy about telling people his name at Colin's suggestion, not that he would ever admit he'd taken it.

"I'm Violet," she said, looking at the food instead of Jewel.

“Don’t touch the snacks, or Thistle will bite your hand off.”

“They’re for when everyone gets here!” Thistle insisted. “It’s just–Violet!”

Violet had started taking a cracker even as Thistle had been speaking. “It’s just one from a stack,” she said, holding it up. It was the size of a dinner plate to her. “No one’ll notice it’s gone.”

“...everyone already at the table will notice, because we just saw you–You know what, fine, pick your battles. You can have one cracker, but that’s it.”

Violet slipped the cracker into her bag. It stuck out the top very visibly. Thistle walked over and gave it a kick, which broke it so the pieces slid down into a heap in the bag.

“Hey!” Violet said. “Don’t touch my stuff!”

“Your st- Violet, I-”

“It’s all right, Thistle,” Marcy interrupted. She reached over and picked him up by the back of the shirt, and he went limp like a kitten that’d been scruffed. “Don’t get all worked up, everything is fine. We have more crackers.”

She set him down in one of the chairs. Thistle looked embarrassed again. “Sorry, I just want it to be perfect.”

“Because that moth man is going to be here, is that it?” Jewel said, smiling devilishly.

Thistle went bright red and hid his face.

“Speaking of,” Jewel said.

Thistle instantly stood up, craning his neck at the window Moon had instructed them to leave open for him to enter. It was five minutes after the start time of three o’ clock, which was the fashionably late he’d warned Thistle about.

Moon alighted on the windowsill, fanning his wings and peering into the house cautiously. He wore the outfit they’d picked out together - a deep blue velvet suit with a red cravat and a wide-brimmed hat topped with a feather, the sunglasses tying the whole look together.

Thistle had warned Marcy to try and be restrained around Moon to not freak him out, so she sat at the table vibrating with excitement, eyes burning on him with barely held-back eagerness.

Moon spotted Thistle and fluttered onto the table. Thistle jogged over, smiling big. "Moon! Moon, thank you for coming!"

"Of course. It’s lovely to see you." Moon slid his sunglasses down to peer at Violet, still sitting at the table. "And who's this lovely creature?"

Violet blushed and squirmed. "V-Violet."

Moon took her hand and gave it a kiss. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he purred. "You may call me Moon."

Violet blushed even deeper and giggled. Thistle felt dread crash over him. Oh no. This was the worst thing that could have happened. Moon is like this with everyone.

Marcy couldn’t hold it in any longer. She leaned over, grinning. "Moon, it's-"

Moon cut her off with a glare. "You may call me Mister Moon."

Wow, okay, so maybe not everyone. Marcy wrung her hands, enthusiasm shot. "Right, okay…. Mr. Moon, it's great to meet you. Thistle's told me about you."

Moon pointed at her with his cane. "Let me make something perfectly clear for you. I am not here for your entertainment. You are not to touch me, ever, nor my companions without explicit permission immediately beforehand. As long as I am in the room, there will always be a nearby window open, or some substitutable manner of egress. You are not to stop me from attempting to leave, and you are not to make demands of me. You are not to touch me, ever. Do I make myself clear?"

Marcy looked cowed and chastised. "Y-yes, sir."

"Moon," Thistle whispered. "You don't have to talk to Marcy that way. She's nice."

Moon turned away from Marcy. “Never hurts to set clear boundaries.”

Thistle mouthed Sorry to Marcy, and she shrugged.

“Well, Marcy is going to make sure everything goes smoothly, and that Severa really does stay nonviolent. Um, I’m sure she’d love to talk with you, Moon, but-”

Moon pointedly turned his back to Marcy and walked over to the table.

“Right,” Thistle said. “Um.” He skittered over to Marcy. “Sorry, Marcy,” he whispered. “I want you to have fun, too, but it might be better for you to hang back and not intervene unless someone is in physical danger.”

“Oh,” Marcy said, trying not to let it show how crushed she was. “Right. I’ll…I’ll observe.”

“I’m really sorry, it’s just-”

“No, no, I get it.” She was trying very, very hard to get it and just be happy to be an observer–it really was an incredible privilege very few other humans had ever gotten–but she felt herself getting more upset with Moon. Of course it made total sense for him to be standoffish around her–there was no telling what kinds of experiences he had in his past–but could she not even interact with Thistle freely when he was around? Surely he didn’t have the right to demand that?

She kept her eyes on him. His frame was broader than Thistle’s, more muscular, and Thistle barely came up past his waist. Thistle seemed…more at ease around him much more quickly than he had been with Marcy.

Don’t be jealous. Don’t be jealous of a guy eight inches tall. That’s too ridiculous.

More than that, she was burning with curiosity. She knew even less about him than Thistle did, even less about him than she knew about Jewel and Violet and Severa. It was a significant effort to not just reach out and brush her fingers against him. The temptation was real, but she knew the consequences would be dire.

His wings were beautiful, with eye spots. He smelled nice. He fanned his wings as he stepped forwards towards Jewel, getting on with the interrupted introductions. "And who might this strapping specimen be?"

Jewel flushed deep red and sank down into the water in his mug, averting his eyes. For someone who’d been teasing Thistle about having a crush, he’d gotten awfully quiet as soon as the attractive one had shown up.

"This is Jewel," Thistle said. "He's shy."

"I'm not shy!" Jewel burst out.

"Then say hello."

He looked nervously at Moon. "H-hello."

"There," Moon purred. "See, I don't bite."

Marcy cleared her throat. "Speaking of… It seems like everyone is here now. Should I bring her out? Is everyone ready?”

The creatures on the table scuttered to their seats. Moon took the seat to Thistle’s right, leaning his cane against the chair, while Violet sat at the end of the line.

That left the other half of the table empty. A gap big enough for the largest tiny person invited.

“I think we’re ready!” Thistle said, flashing her a thumbs-up.

“Ready,” Moon announced.

“Let’s go, I guess,” Violet said nervously.

Jewel glowered and crossed his arms. "Sooner it can be over, I guess."

Marcy walked into the pantry, leaving the tiny creatures alone.

“Why are we doing this again?” Jewel said.

“If I can form a connection with Severa, she might not need to hunt,” Thistle answered.

Moon was staring at him. Thistle shrunk under his gaze. “I just–I just think it’s worth trying to find some way she can live without killing people.”

Moon folded his hands on his lap. “That’s awfully noble of you.”

“I still think this is kinda stupid,” Violet muttered. “She’s a predator.”

“We can at least try!” Thistle insisted. “If you had to eat people to survive, I’m sure you’d love for someone to try and help you! She’s hurt and trapped and scared and she has no way to help herself! You’ve been there!”

Violet’s ears lay flat back against her head. “I-I guess.”

Thistle nervously looked back at Moon, searching for approval. Moon looked surprised, if anything. “You really mean it. You really have compassion for her despite being terrified of her.”

Thistle fidgeted with his fork, unsure if he should try to confirm or deny it. He certainly felt something, and there was definitely both compassion and terror in his maelstrom of emotions.

Marcy came back, mercifully cutting the train of conversation off. She set the cage on the table and said in awkward Pixish, “All right, Severa, ready to exit?”

Severa tentatively uncurled, looking up at Marcy, and nodded.

“Remember, if anyone says she goes back in, she goes back in,” Marcy said to the others in English. "I’ll grab her as soon as you give the word."

“Your kind certainly are good at grabbing,” Moon commented darkly.

Marcy waffled back and forth on how to handle the rude comment, before she decided to just ignore it and unlock the cage then lower the door open.

Severa hauled herself out of the cage, slithering her long body over the door. Despite their agreement, all the small creatures at the table fidgeted. Jewel’s eyes were wide. Violet flinched repeatedly. Thistle’s breathing picked up. Moon’s face was cool and collected, but his ears twitched.

Severa didn’t seem bothered. She curled her coils up underneath her to use as a seat. "Hello,” she announced. "I am Severa."

Thistle suddenly realized he would be stuck translating if he wanted Jewel and Violet to understand Severa. "She’s introducing herself."

“Uh, h-hey,” Jewel said in English. "I’m Jewel."

Violet opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it shut, grabbing the tablecloth.

“You may call me Moon,” Moon said in Pixish. He reached out and lifted her hand up as though to give it a kiss. She was the only one big enough to have hands significantly larger than his.

She looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “What are you doing?”

His eyes flickered up to her, eyebrows raised. He quickly turned her hand sideways to give it a handshake instead. “Just–just a greeting, darling!”

“He’s just being friendly,” Thistle said in Pixish. “These are my friends Jewel, Moon, and Violet.” They weren’t his friends yet, not really–he didn’t make any magic with them. But he was patient. He’d get there eventually. “Jewel and Violet only speak English. But I can translate for them.”

Severa nodded. "Thistle intends for us all to be friends. I am willing to give it a try, though I do not think it will work." She put her enormous, scaly hand on the table. "How do we have…a tea party?”

Thistle perked up. "Well, you sit around and talk nicely and drink tea and eat snacks." He switched to English. "I told her your names, and I’m explaining to her what a tea party is." He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, but he hadn’t even considered the logistical difficulties. He’d never had to serve as a translator before. This was going to be…cumbersome.

"Wonderful," Severa said. She never had any enthusiasm in her voice, or much emotion at all. "May I eat, or will that upset your little friends?"

"Yes, go ahead!" He switched to English. "Everyone take some yummy snacks now! Dig in!"

"Finally," Jewel complained. He took a cake and bit into it. He got sparkles in his eyes immediately. It looked like he was about to cry, enraptured by the taste.

"You've never had cake before?" Thistle asked.

Jewel shook his head.

"Well…what do you think?"

Jewel swallowed quickly, face burning. "It's….fine." He quickly reached over and took two more.

Thistle beamed. “Yeah, it’s– Violet!"

Violet had been shoving food into her pack without even eating any of it. "What? You said we could have the food!"

"To enjoy with each other! Not hoard for later!"

"I'ma borrower! We hoard and save for later! It’s kinda our whole thing!”

Severa reached out towards the table, and everyone fell silent. Her enormous hand dipped into the bowl holding the mealworms and emerged holding one of the wriggling creatures. She simply opened her mouth and swallowed it whole, in one smooth motion.

Thistle tried to convince himself it wasn’t scary. He reached into the bowl and took one of his own. He bit the head off–that was as big of a bite as he could get. We’re not so different. See? We even eat the same food! She’s just big enough to eat the whole thing in one bite! Oh God oh God oh God-

“Is it working?” Thistle said, voice shrill. “Does anyone feel anything?”

Violet’s tail thrashed. Jewel nibbled on his cakes, rendered speechless. Moon lifted his teacup up and spoke in English. “I feel thirsty. I thought this was a tea party? Hm?” He waggled the cup.

“R-right! Marcy, can you pour the tea?”

Marcy’s mind was filled with horrible images of her spilling the hot liquid all over the tiny people at the table. Don’t think about it, don’t spill it, holy shit. She took the teapot in the center of the miniature table and brought it over to herself, then filled it with tea from the larger teapot.

“There you go,” she said, setting it back. “Enjoy!”

Moon ignored her and picked up the miniature teapot, pouring himself a cup. “My, this smells delicious! I haven’t had tea in ages–not since I lived with those borrowers back in Louisville.”

Violet’s tail curled upwards. “You lived with borrowers?”

“Yes, indeed! And I know what you’re thinking, how could that have possibly worked? Considering our, ah…” He gestured to Violet, tracing an imaginary line from her head to his. “Differences.”

“Wha’sthasupposestamean?” she demanded.

“I’m simply referring to the fact that I’m nearly thrice your size, darling.”

Violet looked a bit mollified.

“But to answer the question, I simply used magic to make myself smaller!”

“You can do that?” Jewel said, astonished. “The most I can do is make myself look like a fish, but I don’t actually turn into one.”

“Yes, I know a number of spells I can use to modify my appearance!”

Thistle’s mind ran off with that thought. Was this…was this what Moon actually looked like?

"What is he saying?" Severa said.

"He, uh, he said he lived with borrowers for a while, and he can do magic to alter his appearance, including shrinking himself down."

“That’s fascinating,” Severa said, voice as flat as ever. “All of my magic is for helping me hunt.”

Moon looked nervous. “Erm…right.”

“Although I suppose for certain kinds of creatures-”

“That’s enough about hunting,” Moon said. “Magic is fascinating, and it has many uses beyond hunting.”

"You don't have to be scared," Thistle whispered to Moon. "Marcy will stop her if she tries to hunt us."

Severa took the teapot and poured some into her cup. “You know, Thistle,” she said, lifting the cup in her enormous hand. She was able to fully close her hand around it. “I’m surprised you’re so tense around me, but perfectly at ease around Moon, considering he’s an ukubó.��

There it was again. A word he’d never heard before in Pixish. Thistle was faced now more than ever with the realization that his knowledge was limited to whatever his hive had known about magic, and whatever knowledge gaps Mother’d had, he now had as well.

Whatever the meaning of the word, Moon didn’t seem to like it. He stood up, slamming his hands on the table and rattling everything on it. “Do not say that in front of them,” he growled.

Thistle, Violet, and Jewel drew back fearfully.

“They don’t know what it means,” Severa said, amused. She lifted her teacup to her mouth and took a sip. "Two of them don't even speak Pixish."

Had…had Severa just called Moon a slur or something? “Severa, please be nice,” Thistle whispered. He’d have to ask later what that word meant.

Her mouth turned up in a wry smile. “Fine.”

Hackles still raised, Moon sat down.

"What exactly is going on?" Jewel said, irritated. "You're all just yelling at each other in Pixish."

"Sorry," Thistle said. "I think Severa called Moon a rude name or something."

"...huh, I didn't expect her to attack us emotionally."

Moon crossed his arms. “But, yes, to get back to the point, I’ve interacted with a number of species of magical creatures and learned a number of magical spells.”

“Well lah-de-dah,” Jewel said, burying his nose in his teacup. “Mr. Cool Guy over here. Thinks just because he smells nice he’s God’s gift to the table.”

“He does smell nice!” Violet piped up. “Like hickory and cured meats and cheeses!”

Questioning eyes fell on her. “What?” Jewel said. “No he doesn’t. He smells salty, like ocean water.”

“That’s you,” Violet insisted.

Moon’s frame shook with laughter, and he leaned in towards Thistle. “What do I smell like to you, my dear?”

“You smell like…honeysuckle. Wildflowers.”

Moon smiled, eyes soft. “You all have discovered my pheromones.”

“Ph…eremones?”

He picked up a cube of cheese and weighed it in his hand. “I smell different to everyone. It has to do with my magic, you see.”

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a grappling hook catching on the table and distant grunting sounds.

Violet leapt out of her seat and rushed to the end of the table, peering over it. Of course it was Petunia hanging from the line of the grappling hook, shimmying her way up it in her prettiest dress.

“Petunia, get down!” Violet shouted. “Go back and play!”

“No!” Petunia shouted back. “I’m coming to the party!”

Severa uncoiled herself and slithered away from the table. Marcy hesitantly raised her hands as though to stop her, but nobody told her to, so she didn’t. She let Severa go over to the edge and lean over to look down. Violet’s knees buckled, and she fell, shuffling away from Severa but refusing to leave the grappling hook.

What Petunia saw was her sister’s face looking down at her, then the much larger face of a scaled predator leaning into her field of view. She froze halfway up the line, letting out a scared meep.

“You-you see!” Violet yelled. “It’s dang’rous! Get back!”

Petunia’s gaze stayed frozen on Severa. Severa stared back, eyes misty, tears brimming. “Oh, oh my God,” she breathed. “That baby is so small. Whose baby is that?”

Thistle got up and got between Severa and Violet. “That’s Petunia,” Thistle said. “She’s Violet’s little sister. They don’t have parents. Violet is taking care of her.”

“No parents?” Severa said, heartbroken. She put her hand over her heart. “Can…Can I hold her?”

Thistle bit his lip. He already knew what the answer was going to be, but he had to translate it anyway. “Violet, she’s asking if she can hold Petunia.”

“What!” Violet stood up ramrod straight, fur on end. “No! Definitely not!”

“Violet, if she wanted to hurt Petunia, she wouldn’t ask to hold her.”

“Maybe it’s just to get her up on the table.”

“She wants to hold me?” Petunia’s distant voice said. She cautiously restarted climbing up the rope. “Everyone else is up there and nothing bad happened!”

“Please,” Severa said desperately. “I would never hurt a child. Please let me hold her.”

It suddenly clicked for Thistle. She had an egg due. Either she was hormonal, or she had a soft spot for children. Maybe this could be the key. This was the first time she’d expressed any strong emotions about anything at all. Even during hunting her general demeanor had been passive chagrin and dull acceptance of the situation at hand.

“I can’t,” Violet said, starting to cry. “I can’t let Petunia get so close to a predator. I can’t. Thistle, even if your humans are here to watch, they won’t be able to stop her in time if she hurts Petunia while she’s holdin’ her.”

That…was a very good point. Thistle had no counterargument. “Okay, you’re right about that… But what if we just let Petunia come up on the table? She doesn’t have to get close. Severa’s been here long enough that we can see she’s not going to just ballistic for no reason.”

Severa kneaded her hand, still looking at Petunia.

Violet hesitated. “All…all right. But only if Teddy comes and sits at the table too.”

“No,” Moon said instantly. “Having one human here is bad enough.”

“Would you all just calm down!” Thistle said, stomping. “Nothing is even happening. I’m the one she tried to kill, not any of you! And none of the humans in this house have done anything except try to be supportive right now!”

Moon flushed and turned away. Violet fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and muttered.

Petunia’s little hands finally appeared at the edge of the table, dragging herself up. She wound her grappling hook line behind her. “I’m here!”

Severa made a motion to start towards her, but Thistle stood in front of her, despite his own hands shaking with fear. “Severa, wait.” Marcy is here, Marcy would stop her if she attacked.

She stopped, eyes still on Petunia. “I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I believe you, but Violet is uncomfortable with you holding her.”

Severa flexed her hand, looking anxious to interact with Petunia.

“Violet?” Thistle prompted.

Violet’s head swung from Thistle to Severa to Petunia. “I…Okay, she can sit at the table. But she has to be at the seat farthest from her.”

“Thank you,” Thistle breathed, having no idea how to resolve this otherwise. “I promise she’ll be safe.” He turned to Severa. “How about you sit at the table together for a while before we talk about holding her?”

Severa backed up slightly, coils wrapping around herself. “Yes. Okay. Thank you.”

The small creatures all cautiously retook their seats. “Everything okay?” Marcy whispered.

Thistle flashed her two thumbs up. “Everything’s cool, calm, and copacetic!”

Petunia dashed over, giggling happily, and clambered up into Violet’s lap. The poof of her dress crinkled against the table. “Vivi! Look at all the food!”

“Yes,” Violet said cautiously. “You can have some.”

Petunia opened her bag and started shoveling food in. Ah. Well, Thistle wasn’t going to tell Petunia not to do that.

Severa watched the tiny borrower, her expression now completely different. She had a soft glow about her. She was smiling. “Your dress is very pretty.”

Thistle translated. “She said your dress is pretty.”

Petunia perked up. “Yay! Thank you, thank you! Your ribbon is nice.”

Thistle translated. Severa reached a hand up and stroked her hair ribbon. “I’m not sure why I wear it. I suppose it feels nice, sometimes, to feel beautiful, instead of only destroying beautiful things.”

Thistle’s skin crawled. Every time he’d almost managed to start forgetting Severa’s true nature, he was reminded of it somehow. He decided to only translate the Thank you.

Moon cleared his throat. “So tell us more about yourself, Severa. Do you have any children of your own?”

Thistle certainly hoped not, because they would have been keeping her from them the past few days. “No,” she answered, much to his relief. “Though not for lack of trying. My first hatchling starved to death, because I was a poor hunter at the time. Inexperienced. My second disappeared from my nest at the hands of a predator while I was away. My third egg was laid premature, small and feeble, and when it hatched it was not strong enough to survive. I’ve held off on mating for a while after that, since I could not take any more heartbreak.”

“Oh?” Moon said. “That’s tragic. I’m so sorry.”

Thistle privately thought it wasn’t tragic at all for there to be fewer nagas in the world, but he did have to admit the idea of innocent babies dying was sad, of course. Theoretically. In reality, he was struggling to detach himself from the hivemind way of thinking–that he shouldn’t feel bad about someone dying if they were a threat to the hive.

But he wasn’t with his hive anymore, he was with Marcy, and Severa wasn’t a threat to her.

Severa’s gaze came over and burned into Thistle. “But I do have an egg due soon, now. I hope it will be different from the others, but I do not have much hope. I need lots of magic to produce a healthy egg.”

“Right…” Thistle hadn’t felt the spark of magic he knew meant he was making a connection with someone else. Severa was just too scary. It was easy to say you were friends. It was harder to actually do it. You couldn’t fake it. You could lie to yourself, but you couldn’t lie to magic.

Severa picked up her teacup agitatedly. “Perhaps your plan would work, Thistle, if I were allowed to hold the baby.”

“I’m sorry,” Thistle said. “Violet doesn’t want you to.”

Severa slammed her cup down. “I would not hurt a child! I have never hurt a child! You act like I am a monster!”

You ARE a monster, Thistle wanted to say, but he didn’t, of course. “I’m sorry.”

“Uhh, Thistle,” Jewel said nervously. “What’s happening?”

Severa’s tongue flicked in and out, and her sides heaved as she hissed in air. “We both know this isn’t going to work. I’m going to die, and you’re not even going to let me hold the baby before I die. And for what?”

Marcy’s hands crept closer, alarmed by the visible increase in agitation.

“Severa,” Thistle squeaked. “Please. It’s not going to work if you get mad at me.”

“It’s not going to work at all!” Severa got up, leaning over the table at Thistle. “We both know that! You are trying to defy the natural order of things! You are foolish and naive! To think I could be anything other than a killer, a predator! I am hungry! And not for companionship!”

She lunged. Jewel splashed back in his cup, Violet grabbed Petunia and darted away, and Moon threw himself at Thistle to push him out of the way.

She didn’t reach him, though: Marcy’s hand closed around her, yanking her up into the air.

Severa writhed in her grip, squeezed her wrist. Petunia cried loudly. Severa stopped and looked down at the little girl, tears in her eyes.

“I wouldn’t hurt a child,” she insisted.

Still sobbing in fear, Petunia got up and scampered away, Violet not far behind.

“Come back,” Severa wept. “Come back. Please. If I could just hold a baby one more time, I could die happy.”

“Okay, teaparty over,” Marcy declared. “Sorry.”

***

@cloudwatchingtoday @theepiccreatorofmagic-blog-blog @waitisthatgt @itssmoltime @ratcatcher0325 @crazytinygirl @bittykimmy13 @whumpsday @theroyaleemily @kitn-underfoot

@tinyguy42069

@jewel-fan-wys

@cheeseybeans8

@whumpshaped

@lucentbliss

@alilbitlesbian

@aceouttatime

@alarcomet

@becca-but-bitty

@tiny--pineapple

@bittykimmy13

@whumpsday

@kitn-underfoot

@gt-brainrot

@silent-orchid-lady

@predacon-skydrift

@whumpdreamz

@honeycollectswhump

#g/t #gt #gianttiny #fairy #giant/tiny #size difference #my writing #my original writing

45 notes · View notes

dykenav · 1 year

Text

[this post is about the succession SEASON ONE finale bc I’m ten years behind]

anyway like the way denial was the emotional undercurrent of everything in this episode…. starting with tom telling greg to shut up so he can block out the truth of shiv’s infidelity, to roman and the launch and just immediately shutting it off and pretending like it didn’t happen, and us as the viewer feeling the absolute horror realizing that people could have DIED, and seeing the utter disconnect in Roman, watching a livestream on his phone like it’s a video game, going back into this huge fucking party, the party itself being the physical place to symbolize the utter isolation and social disconnection of the filthy rich from the rest of the world. the tension building while we’re like jesus christ did he fucking kill people?? and then he finds out oh no, it’s just two thumbs and an arm, what a RELIEF, and we as the viewer vicariously accepting that relief as a lesser horror while still seeing the horror. the way it mirrors the horror of the first episode when roman rips up a fucking MILLION DOLLAR check in front of a poor kid. reminding us that while we might relate to their human foils and emotions, the absolute SCALE of their faults and ignorances have such massive, unfathomable consequences by virtue of their power. and then you have. fucking kendall. and the kid in the car. and it’s the exact same situation. and the thing that makes it so fucking VISCERAL is that it doesn’t jump cut to the next day. we stay with him the whole fucking time as he walks away from that scene. we watch him break back into his hotel, wash himself like fucking lady macbeth. make his way back to the party. dance with his fucking kids. the dissonance is so fucking strong. it’s like coming back to omelas after seeing the tortured child. what can you do but pretend? and tell me you haven’t fucking been there before. tell me you haven’t been at that party, where something horrible and unspeakable is happening inside of you but you have to dance and smile anyway. we all know what it’s like to be in denial. it’s human. and yet the consequences of these people’s denial, by virtue of their power, is so vast and sickening, that it becomes inhuman. they’re not inherently evil people, but the circumstances of their wealth and privilege takes their shortcomings and corrupts them into poison and bombs. all of that accumulating to logan psychologically exploiting kendall in his moment of trauma, kendall breaking down and crying like a kid, and of course he would, ANYONE would, but he’s not anyone, these people aren’t anyone. I don’t mean they’re not human, I mean the opposite. they are human children playing an elaborate game of pretend with the rest of the fucking world as their dolls. they’re not masterminds. they’re toddlers demanding to be loved and blowing shit up in the process. and it’s easy to watch and say, wow that is so fucked up. but who am I if I act like I can fully separate myself from this story and be like “welp, anyway! back to bed!” without recreating that same denial? who are any of we to act like we’re not in some way complicit to the horror of the world when in order to function and live our lives we have to completely compartmentalize the part of our brain that comprehends the news? I’m not saying a normal person is in any way shape or form as responsible as a billionaire, nor am I saying there’s any moral answer to this. I’m just saying……….. fuck

#sorry but like. jesus christ. I need a therapy session #succession #succession meta #succession season 1

66 notes · View notes

shifterdomain · 24 days

Text

Kids Interview / Jonah Hauer-King X Actress!Reader

Summary: You and Jonah are traveling across Europe with the rest of the cast for the press tour of The Little Mermaid. You were set to have a day off, but when Halle couldn’t make it to the interview with Jonah because she was feeling ill, you came to do the interview with Jonah instead. Warnings: It's mostly some humor, cute kids and a little hint of flirting between Jonah and reader. Word count: 1470

Disclaimer: You portray Eric’s niece in the movie who came to live with him and the queen to learn how to become a well-behaved princess and your character helped Sir Grimsby to get Eric to forget the mystery girl and go after Ariel. You were like Eric’s closest friend.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You were rushed to the location where press was being held by the driver Rob Marshall send to pick you up. Doing your make-up in the car had been a trick you had gotten better at over the course of working on this film, so all you had to do was get dressed once you arrived.

Halle had fallen sick with food poisoning, luckily nothing too serious, after you, her and Jonah had gone out to dinner the night before to celebrate the kickoff for press of the movie. It was something all three of you were very nervous for.

Halle had gotten a lot of backlash for being a person of color cast as Ariel while Jonah got the backlash for being a white person cast as Eric which wasn’t ‘woke’ enough (you simply thought that Christian Navarro, who started the gossip, was jealous for not getting cast himself) and because people were upset the role didn’t go to Harry Styles. And you, well, you got the backlash for being a character that wasn’t even in the original.

But the three of you got through all of it together, ending up being very close friends. Which made it a no brainer for you to fill in for Halle when you heard that she was sick. So after checking up on her you were raced to the venue and got ready before joining Jonah in the studio.

“Hey, I tried to come as quick as I could,” you greeted him with a small hug before taking a seat in the chair beside him.

“Don’t worry, you’re,” he checked his watch. “precisely on time,” he flashed you a charming smile. You let out a sigh of relief at those words before watching two little kids come into the room. They were both dressed up like Disney characters, holding a set of cards in one hand and a doll in the other.

Your jaw dropped slightly as you placed your hand over your chest in awe of the adorable kids who couldn’t be older than 8. Jonah did the same before getting up to give the kids a welcoming hug. You followed suit, feeling sad for Halle that she had to miss this, knowing how much she loved kids.

“You both look so beautiful,” you coo as both you and Jonah sat down in your chairs again, the kids sitting down across from you. The little girl dressed up like Ariel and the boy like prince Eric.

“Hello, I am Marissa,” the girl introduced herself, looking into the camera. “and this is my little brother Ivan and we are here with Y/N Y/L/N and Jonah Hauer-King to talk about The Little Mermaid,” she introduced and you could tell that this girl was made for showbusiness with the flair she had in just the introduction, while her little brother shyly looked down at his cards.

“Thank you for having us, it’s so nice to be here,” you smile kindly as Marissa turns her attention back to the two of you.

“Definitely,” Jonah chimed in with a smile of his own.

“Jonah,” Marissa looked at her card for a moment before looking up at him with a serious look on her face. “what was it like to get the part of prince Eric and how did you find out that you got the part?”

“Well, it was a very long process of auditioning and I was pretty nervous. I had never done something on the scale of a Disney movie and I’m a really big fan of Disney myself, so I really wanted this part. So yeah, I was very excited. Uhm, it had been months since I heard from the studio after my last audition, which actually happened to be my screen test with Halle, who plays Ariel. And I got this call from Rob Marshall and he said in that Rob Marshall voice: ‘Hello, I am looking for prince Eric’,” Jonah attempted to do a Rob Marshall impression, causing you to chuckle lightly. “So I was like: ‘This could be him…’ and yeah, that’s- that’s it.”

“And Y/N, what was the process for you?”

“Well, I got the same kind of phone call,” you answer. “and yeah, I guess you could say I was pretty anxious. Y/C/N isn’t originally in the movie so I was very nervous about what it was gonna be like and how people would react. There were a lot of auditions and at first we weren’t told the part we were auditioning for, I only really learned about the character when I got the part. You know, so that people wouldn’t find out about the new character before they were supposed to. But… Rob Marshall is a great director and we had an amazing team of writers and choreographers and the crew, all in all, is just amazing. And I think they did a great job at creating this character who… it isn’t really clear what her intentions are. You don’t really know where she stands because, well, she’s morally grey as we call it. She cares about Eric and wants to help him, but she’s got her own motives as well. So I think it was really fun exploring this new character. Rob really helped in coming to understand her and once Lin Manuel, he wrote the new songs, showed me the song he had in mind for Y/C/N I think it really came together for me.”

“Who were you most excited to work with?” Marissa asked, crossing her legs. I looked towards Jonah to see if he wanted to answer first, but he nodded for me to go first instead.

“For me, I was very excited to work with mostly everyone. I love ‘Hamilton’ so Lin Manuel and Daveed Diggs were just… amazing. And then Halle is such an angel and Jonah, of course, is just… everything you want to work with. But I actually think I might have been most excited to meet Melissa McCarthy. I grew up watching Gilmore Girls and I loved her character, Sookie, so it was just so surreal meeting her. She inspired me so much, so yeah, I was really excited about meeting her.”

“I’d have to say Javier Bardem,” Jonah answered, rubbing his hand over his jawline in thought. “I really embarrassed myself the first time meeting him. You know, I grew up on his movies. So, I went to his trailer and just knocked and I was so nervous. The door swung open and there was this really big guy and I looked at him, he looked at me and I just asked: ‘Can I have a hug?’ and he said: ‘Come here’ and just gave me a bear hug. But yeah, he must’ve thought ‘who is this kid showing up by my trailer asking for a hug’, so… that was pretty embarrassing,” he laughed shyly and you could swear his cheeks had a crimson hint in them.

“And what was it like working together?” Ivan asked, his voice hushed as his eyes darted around the room. You could simply melt at the adorableness.

“I mean, I love this job,” Jonah started and you braced yourself for whatever he was gonna say next. “even when it’s infuriating, like working with Y/N and… basically working with Y/N,” he joked and you give him a look of feigned hurt. “No, I’m just joking around. I loved working with her. She’s an amazing actress and she’s just got this beautiful, theatric voice. We got really close over the course of filming and I’m genuinely a little sad I don’t get to work with her anymore. We spend every day together for the past… almost two years. So yeah, it’s- I’m gonna miss having her around all the time. Bugging me to sing for her,” he said the last part like he was annoyed with it and you couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that he actually enjoyed it.

“You know, I feel the same way. I’m gonna miss our days together. Jonah was just such a joy to work with. He’s so passionate about what he does and he’s just so driven. Seeing him act is enough to make me realize why I went into acting. Seeing the joy he has and experiencing the fun we have together. Not just us, but with Halle too. I mean, we had the most fun. He’s just an amazing human being and I couldn’t be prouder of what he’s achieved and what he’s done with the part and I can’t wait for people to see this wonderful man sing and play his heart out.”

“Ahw, that’s actually the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you reply jokingly, smiling back at him. You really were gonna miss these moments together.

#jonah hauer king #the little mermaid #imagines #jonah hauer-king #jonah hauer king x reader #jonah hauer-king x reader #jonah hauer king x actress!reader #jonah hauer-king x actress!reader #jonah hauer king imagines #jonah hauer-king imagines

10 notes · View notes

purity-town · 9 months

Text

No update today -- next chapter's cover has had a good chunk of progress made on it, but I'm too busy tomorrow to get it finished up to post at a reasonable time. (This works out well anyhow, as I'll be moving back down for college next week, so if the current page wasn't partially finished already I may have not had the time to complete an update.) In the meantime, finally getting around to posting ask responses (below the cut)!

I'm really glad to hear you're liking it! Life's been a little crazy lately, so updates have been more scattered than I'd like, but I'm still thoroughly enjoying making this comic, so I'm you're enjoying reading it!

Looking at the timestamps, the first page was released on December 12th, 2020. So we’re just past 2 and a half years now!

The actual “development” of the story technically goes a bit further back to the time around the 1.4 update release, as I was getting really into the game lore and wrote up some worldbuilding ideas. Then in late November of 2020 I started planning a fanfic based on that, did a short 2-page comic set in that AU for fun, and then ended up expanding that original fanfic into the current, longer comic!

I’m gonna tentatively say yes! At least, one per Andrew and the Clothier each. There wouldn’t really have been a reason to make more than one of Andrew. There technically could’ve been more made of the Clothier, but one was all that was really needed.

Fortunately this current set of backgrounds outside of the dungeon is relatively simple, as I reuse the base coloring for the columns and adjust the perspective/lighting as necessary (each column is actually two pieces -- one “flat” side and one “angled” side).

I have a pretty limited capacity for doing backgrounds, so I tend to use tricks like this to reuse them where I can, haha. The first few backgrounds for an area tend to be harder, as I need to make assets and figure out how I want lighting and so on to work, but from there it usually gets easier.

It's still dependent on the background's design, of course -- backgrounds that are painted (usually outdoors) are a much different experience to work with than areas with detailed lineart and textured surfaces, such as the tavern and Andrew's kitchen. I'm slowly getting used to the perspective tools in Clip Studio Paint, though, which is helping a lot with drawing indoor spaces!

In all honesty, I was mostly focused on making it immediately recognizable even in silhouette, and that it fit well on the page, rather than focusing on making it perfectly to scale or the likes, haha.

Design-wise I find the Wall of Flesh to be super interesting -- it visually ties the “first” boss of progression (EoC) in with the last boss (Moonlord). And it’s overall very jarring, in that it’s easy to accidentally summon and turns the Underworld into an inescapable auto scroller in a way none of the other bosses do. And of course the story/lore significance, etc. etc. etc.

So when the time comes, I hope I can do it justice!

Honestly, I’m not sure! I still haven’t totally decided how that whole sequence of events will go -- some parts of it are very clearly planned out, others not so much. In a general sense, I do think that Chris’ reaction could vary significantly with the circumstances -- how much of a shock it is, and if he understands the significance of it -- but generally wouldn’t be good, in a horrified/panicking sense.

At the current point in the comic, Chris *does* have a general idea that something weird is up with Andrew, just based on what Heather/Malik/Becca were saying (including Heather’s mention of “burns”), plus Andrew leaving in a hurry that morning and brushing it off when asked about it. He doesn’t believe that Andrew is evil, of course, just that he’s dealing with some things, and Chris is appropriately concerned.

So- yeah, finding a doll of Andrew in the Underworld- honestly, there are a lot of ways for him to take it badly.

But hey, once he has the doll, Hardmode won’t be far away, and that’ll bring a whole new host of problems for him to focus on instead!

#purity town #not an update #pt asks

32 notes · View notes

wonderwomanfantasy · 1 year

Text

dollmaker

Sero deserves the whole world as well as his own doll <3

Sero x reader

warnings: miscommunication used for comedy, that's about it

word count: 1,300 (about)

summary: a doll customizer and a hero who wants a doll, it's a match made in heaven!

Hanta knew he wasn’t exactly a popular hero. not that it mattered, he didn’t get into hero work to be famous, he did it to save people. It did sting sometimes when he got referred to as “the tape guy” instead of by his name but that was petty. Besides, it was nice that he didn’t have to hide his face to go out, he knew Bakugou had to hire a personal shopper because fans would swarm him if he went out in public. Sero couldn’t imagine letting someone else know how many Zebra cakes he ate in one week. Besides, that would mean he wouldn’t get to go shopping with you.

It was small, but Hanta always looked forward to spending that time with you. Sero never thought he’d be the kind of guy who cared what type of trash bags and paper towels his partner liked but here he was, Caring.

“What are you smiling at?” you asked, kissing Sero’s cheek, pulling him out of his own thoughts.

“You, pretty,” he answered automatically. Sero couldn’t help but smile when he saw you, you just made every room better, and he couldn’t help it.

“Sappy,” you snapped back and pushed the cart onward.

Even though you were grocery shopping you couldn’t escape heroism. Branded cereals, t-shirts, themed Nerf guns, and of course Action figures. Sero didn’t notice but you did, there was nothing for Cellophane. You knew that he had merch, whenever Hanta got some new prototype he always gave it to you before it was released to the larger public. But most of that was online, he hardly ever had stuff on shelves.

You pulled down an Action figure of Deku, Sero didn’t have anything like this. You carefully turned the package over in your hands trying to see the doll through layers of plastic. You’d had an interest in collecting and making dolls of your own for a few years now, it was interesting to see how these toys worked and pierced together.

“I thought I was your favorite hero,” Sero scoffed seeing how much attention you were paying to someone else’s merchandise. You put the doll back and stuck your tongue out at him.

“What gave you that idea?” you teased. Hanta didn’t have anything like that, you wondered if he’d like that, if not a mass-marketed toy then maybe something unique he could have. Your mind wandered to making the doll, it wouldn’t be hard to style a doll with his hair and makeup to look like him. It wouldn’t even be that hard to make modified elbows for him. But it would be a pain in the ass to make clothes. His suit was so detailed it would be difficult to scale it down to the size of a toy.

Difficult, but you were sure you could do it with a few rough drafts. The real trick would be keeping it from Hanta. Normally you would share your progress with him, but you wanted to keep this doll a surprise, and if it turned out to be a complete failure you could just scrap it without disappointing your boyfriend. You started on your secret project as soon as you got home, pulling out a doll that would make a good base before beginning.

Sero had never thought much about his own action figure, but Kaminari had started prototyping one for his brand and would not shut up about it. It also meant that Sero was the only one in his immediate friend group who didn’t have anything like that.

He remembered a few weeks ago when you’d lingered over the Deku Doll. he liked it when you wore something of his, and he knew you liked dolls, it might be nice to give you something like that. So he started asking his PR team, and he got shot down. He wasn’t high-ranking enough, making a toy would only be a loss to the company it would cost more than it would bring in. His heart sank a little bit when he heard that. He didn’t care if he was the number one hero, but it stung that his rank meant he couldn’t give you a stupid gift and that he wasn’t on the same level as friends.

Sero shook his head and tried to ignore the negative thoughts. A Doll of himself was a selfish gift anyways, he was just jealous the Deku doll caught your eye and jealous that Kaminari was more popular.

He could give you a better gift than that any day of the week. No one knew you as Sero did and he knew what you’d want more than anything; a relaxing night with your boyfriend.

“BABE” Sero called out as he entered your shared home, almost instantly your head popped out of your office,

“Hey, Hanta! One sec let me clean up a little bit,” you said disappearing again, Sero never minded when you worked while he was home, but Recently you’d been insisting that you wanted to spend time with him every second that he was there and you tired to have your workspace clean by the time he was home.

Sero loved spending time with you, of course, but it made him a little sad like he didn’t see you enough and it was making you desperate for any scrap of time with him,

While you were distracted Sero brought in his surprise, it wasn��t anything big just dinner from your favorite restaurant.

“Hanta!” you gasped, Sero turned and grinned at you

“Surprise baby,” he said then quickly caught you as you threw yourself at him, peppering his face with kisses.

“You’re too sweet to me,” you gushed. Hanta smiled, basking in your praise.

“It’s nothing, I just wanted to surprise you,” he laughed steering you both to the kitchen so that you could dig in.

After eating, Sero pulled you to the couch and into his lap holding you there. He rubbed slow circles against your hips and the tops of your thighs. You had your arms wrapped around his neck and nuzzled into his chest. Sero held you closer.

“I love you, hanta,’ you murmured.

“I love you more,” he assured you.

“Well I don’t know about that,” you teased pulling back so you could look at him, grinning mischievously. He knew that grin.

“What did you do?” he gasped no longer relaxed.

“What? You surprised me, Can’t I surprise you too?” you demanded laughing to yourself. You tried to climb off of his lap but Sero caught you and didn’t let you go.

“No, I’m not ready,” he laughed.

“It’s not bad!” you giggled.

“But I’m scared!” he protested. You managed to wriggle out of his arms and stumbled to your office, Sero followed you like a dog after his owner.

“Stay here while I get it,” you ordered.

“What’s ‘it’? How long have you been hiding this from me?” Hanta demanded. Nevertheless, he stayed obediently outside of the door.

“Now, it’s not perfect but I hope you like it anyways,” you said shyly with your hands behind your back. Sero dropped the teasing you’d put a lot of effort into this, and he knew he’d love it no matter what it was.

You handed him an action figure, at first he was confused, then he realized it was him.

“Oh my god, you made this?” he asked, admiring the detail.

“I ended up just painting the suit, it was too hard to sew I just-”

Sero cut you off with a kiss.

“I love it, baby,” he whispered, Sero knew he would treasure it forever, his own doll.

#sero x reader #Imagine sero hanta #my hero acedamia #mha fluff #sero x reader fluff #gn reader #boku no hero academia #sero x you

117 notes · View notes

eightyuh · 9 months

Note

Had a thought while rearranging the fabric in my craft closet.

It would probably help if one of the shrunken folks was a tailor. No "doll's clothes" comments, plus it's way easier to make it fit right if it's being sewn by someone your own height. (also, if the blacksmith's comment is anything to go off of... sounds like their scale can vary a little? though the council looked all about the same height, so maybe the blacksmith just didn't care to put in enough effort to do it properly)

of course, there's only ten of them, and considering the situations that usually lead to the shrinking, probably none would have the experience to be a tailor. But it could be learned, and might help with feelings of being purposeless.

LOL... inspired to get crafty with sewing huh? ^^ (i actually just bought a Monster High doll the other day with the intent of making clothes for it myself... hehehe....)

RE: Tailor + Blacksmith

It absolutely would help if there were Tailors and Blacksmiths their own size! And it'd make sense in-universe, too. The point of having those specific interactions however was for Glen to experience micro-aggressions. He thought he'd have it easy in his new life (royal servant, new responsibilities, free stuff, etc), but one-by-one is having his expectations shattered. As someone who prides himself in being self-sacrificing and having other rely on him, he's suddenly feeling purposeless -- as you say! Chapter 2 is meant to build up his frustration, which motivates him to action. If he had things go well for him, it'd give him less of a reason to begin his quest. ^^

RE: Retired Sizes

You have a really good eye haha... I appreciate you noting all these phrasing details! You're right -- it's a bit of both. I had it phrased really vaguely because I couldn't decide on one or the other. Based on how SP works in-story (will be explained Chapter 3), it would make sense that Retired folks can potentially end up varying in different sizes. However, I was just rushing to finish the comic -- and the only Retired person we focus on is Glen anyways -- so I didn't bother rendering different-sized people in the scene because ultimately I just didn't want to distract from him. So that's why they're nonspecific blobs. However, even if it's not the case and they're all just consistently ~6"-- you'd also be right. It could just be the Blacksmith being negligent and just using whatever metal scraps he had left and calling it good enough.

THANK YOU so much for your thoughts haha! <3 A little insane to me to think that these characters + story have been conveyed outside of my own head for others to chew on...

#ask #untitled rpg #mod #hope u don't mind if i answer these out of order haha... the asks needing drawings take more time to make...

15 notes · View notes

glumet-shadow · 29 days

Text

Okay guys so recently ive been really loving custom dolls (debated about making my own) and though hey why not make a shu x reader fic where reader loves custom dolls and even makes some. So here is my rough idea!

Shu Itsuki x Doll loving reader

--------

So as we all hopefully know, Shu loves dolls. His favorite being Mademoiselle. Shu might offer to help make clothing, but dont show him the modifications on bodies. He may scream. If you have an interest in BJD (Ball jointed dolls) dolls he may let you use Mademoiselle as a reference if you sculpt them yourself. He loves to watch you do what many call a 'face up' (basically drawing a face on the doll after removing factory paint if it was a premade doll.) He might suggest good doll brands (most customizers love monster high due to good molds and articulation). He would love fantasy dolls probably. And when a custom ooak (one of a kind) doll video is uploaded he may ask Mika to watch it with you. He especially loves collabs between doll artists. One video he fell in love with was Dollightfull's Steampunk collab.(Valkyrie is steampunk if you didnt know) And he probably watches it a lot.

Of course this has its downsides as well. Shu would be terrified of you customizing Mademoiselle. But if you are a digital doll artist he wouldnt have that fear. Shu definitely loves fashion dolls, so sharing that interest is lovely to him! Just dont let him watch any of Dollightful's dragon videos (he will cry probably). Might even start creating his own to model Valkyrie outfits at a smaller scale. Because it would use less fabric and all.

A shared love of dolls is perfect! Especially when shu is in love.

------

Little note, below this I will add Yandere headcannons for this as well!

------

So yan shu would also love your love of dolls. But if you spend too much time on customs he will be sad. Unless you share your work area which would be convenient for everyone. Fabrics are all in the same spot. And he could also use your dolls as models for clothes and get a good idea of what you like for designing.

Now if you are a digital doll sculptor shu may use unconventional methods to learn your style. Such as opening your computer when you arent around. He might even ask to use it (after learning how to). But if you have vroid (a 3d software for anime vtube models) shu may use that as reference for new designs. When you talk to others about customs you worked on together he might be mad. Especially if you talk to Eichi about it. Heaven forbid you talk to Eichi about a heaven themed doll and he will blow his top. Of course some of his favorite customs are steampunk theme. It shows you pay attention to what he likes (if its a coincidence and you didnt he acts delusional). Of course he would love every doll you make (eyes the blonde haired ones). He also would love if you made an eccentric themed doll (if you know you know). Or one that looked like him!

-----

And im done, if youd like I can continue this headcanon with mika and others.

#enstars #yandere enstars #shu itsuki #yandere shu itsuki #doll lover #ooak doll #shoutout dollightful for inspo

4 notes · View notes

starryserenade · 1 year

Text

Myth and Magic Ch. 3: Warmth

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Magic begins to stir, and icy walls start to crumble.

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

~~~~

It’s coming…

A withered leaf fluttered past Oswald’s nose and he frowned, looking out over the kingdom below. As usual, light beamed in a thousand dazzling colors and fairies pranced about their glow in a dreamlike revelry that never seemed to end. They were blissfully unconcerned with the crystalline flowers that had begun to web with tiny cracks, nor the amber trees whose leaves now curled into a dull brown.

The rabbit narrowed his eyes and mindlessly squeezed the small doll in his hands–a child’s toy, really, with golden thread that had started to unravel and clothing dulled by time and wear. It flopped lazily in his grip, a small tail slipping through his fingers until, startled by a sound behind him, he shoved it in the pocket of his cloak and whirled around.

“What?” he queried gruffly, clearing his throat as he came to face a masked guard. Though the armored fae were tasked with obeying his every command, he did not much care for their presence. Their cold demeanor and piercing stare had a tendency to send chills through his spine, and gave him the inkling they knew more than they were letting on.

The guard lifted his hand and summoned a cloud of magic, then held it steady for the fairy king to see. Oswald snarled, taking the blatant use of enchantments as a direct mockery of his own lack of the skill, but was quickly taken by the images that appeared in the swirling mist. His heart, cold as it was, skipped a beat. Rushing water, flaring nostrils, and pounding hooves, came together in a violent whirl, and Oswald took a faltering step away from the scene, clutching his chest. “What is this?”

This was not news, this was a nightmare. One he saw every time he closed his eyes. “Listen here,” he growled, rushing at the guard. “If she thinks this is funny, then I-”

But the guard narrowed his lightless eyes, and with an unwavering grip, pushed Oswald’s fist away, nodding briskly at the magic which had only continued to shift. The kelpies parted and two figures came into view, fighting desperately to escape the enchanted equines.

There is a shock so great it drives every ounce of breath and warmth from a person. Fairies are not immune to such effects and for a moment, Oswald found he could not breathe. The faint blush of anger from seconds prior drained from him in an instant, and he felt as if his blood had been turned to ice.

“They’re alive…” he breathed, failing to keep from reaching into the mist. It scattered at his touch and he reeled back with a start, acutely aware of the guard’s suspicious glare. “I…” Oswald began, trembling with a multitude of emotion not absent of fear. Then he shook his head, ears bouncing lightly as he regained just enough composure to speak. “Bring them to me,” he ordered, eyes flooding with steely composition once again. “Alive.”

~~~

Water erupted from the lake’s surface as the patch of ice shattered, and Mickey emerged with a frantic gulp of air, sputtering and coughing as he scrambled to escape the frigid pool. Of course, with waterlogged fur and a body sapped of strength, this was not the easiest endeavor. He nearly fell back in, but then there was another splash beside him as the girl leapt from the ice. Had he not been so intently focused on mere survival, he might have marveled at the transformation as her scales melted away, pearlescent tail dissolving into shimmering droplets that came together in a dress of seaweed green.

But he did not see this, which was probably a good thing because he likely would have lost his grip immediately. As it was, he held on just long enough for her to snag his wrist and yank him out, quickly pulling him to the shore which, thankfully, was only steps away from where they’d managed to break free.

She let him down on the rocky shoreline and he collapsed, still gasping for air as his teeth chattered in the cold. But the girl didn’t seem to notice. She stood straight, her cheeks a furious crimson.

“Eejit!” she hissed, her hands balled into fists at her side. “I was trying to save you, and you pull a trick like that?! Or did you want us to become kelpie food!”

Mickey was first so taken by the sound of her voice, entranced by the bell-like ring in every word she spoke, that he nearly forgot to be offended. But then she whipped around to glare at him and his astonishment quickly dissolved. He shook his head, droplets splashing on the stones around him, and glared back. “Well, you’re a siren!” he countered, his face somehow managing to get twice as red as hers. “I thought you were tryin’ to drown me!”

At this, she snorted and lifted her nose to the air. “Do I look like a fairy to you?”

He stared at her blankly then blinked, realizing now that her scaled fin was gone, replaced by legs and a threadlike tail. He glanced at her feet, then back at her face. “Well, not now,” was all he could think of to say, at which she scoffed and plopped herself down on a small boulder.

“Well, I’m not,” she huffed. “I was cursed by one, thank you. So I’m likely to dislike them just as much as you do.”

Mickey was about to argue that he didn’t particularly dislike fairies, but judging by her sudden shift in demeanor, head lowered to her hands in crestfallen frustration, he figured it best not to push the subject any further. But as his wet fur dripped steadily onto the earth and he stared at the girl, he became acutely aware of his own lack of manners. Fairy or not, she had saved his life, and he had not done much more than insult her thus far.

Clearing his throat, he slipped his coat off his shoulders and pretended to turn his attention to wringing out the water from its threads. “I’m, uh…’m sorry,” he mumbled nervously. “Thank you for savin’ me.”

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at him, then sighed and cracked a small smile. “You’re the first person I’ve seen in ages,” she murmured softly, voice breaking. Then her eyes brightened with the slightest bit of humor. “It’d have been a shame to let you drown. I’m Minnie, by the way.”

“Minnie…” Mickey tested the word on his tongue, and grinned. “I’m Mickey! Pleased t’meet’cha.”

Minnie giggled and met his gaze, and Mickey felt his fur rising under her stare. The way her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, not in suspicion but in confusion, made him feel like she was searching for something but wasn’t sure what. Then a cold breeze interrupted the moment, and they both shuddered. He was surprised to see her wince and wrap her arms about herself, having figured the cold was of no consequence to her. But she stood and sniffed, the light in her face dimming once again. “I…I should go.” She flicked her tail and cast a melancholy glance towards the lake, where the hole in the ice was already beginning to freeze over again. “I can’t spend much time out of the water in this cold.”

But Mickey had stood at the first sight of her chill, and tapped her lightly as she took a step to walk away. When she turned, he grinned shyly and held up the now-damp coat he’d managed to wring out just enough. “Would this help?”

It was a pitiful attempt at helpfulness–a damp coat in such cold was likely to do more harm than good–but Minnie grinned nonetheless, seemingly flattered by the effort. Mickey could not help his own shivering, however, and he spotted Minnie’s hesitation as she cast a concerned look his way. “Will you be okay?” she asked, fingers brushing past his gift.

“Awe, don’t worry about me,” Mickey shrugged, doing his best to keep his teeth from chattering. “I’ve been through worse, honest.”

Minnie stared at him, and he could tell she was unconvinced. She pursed her lips and opened her mouth to speak, but then a flash of light flickered at the corner of their vision, and they both turned to look.

The island was aglow, and several dark silhouettes emerged from its depths. Mickey squinted his eyes, unable to make out their shapes. “Friends of yours?” he asked, but Minnie seemed frozen beside him. “Minnie?”

Minnie cast a panicked glance at the nearly-frozen gap in the ice, then back at Mickey, and seemed to make up her mind. “We have to go!” she gasped, grabbing him by his cloak as she clambered up the sloping banks. He stumbled after her, dropping the coat and looking behind him as the shapes grew darker then took to the air, enormous wings carrying them into the sky.

“Oh boy…” he muttered under his breath, suddenly a bit more petrified. Those were fairies, no doubt. And if Minnie’s reaction was any indication, they certainly weren’t friendly.

The two climbed over the bank and into the forest itself, stumbling through the knee-deep snow as fast as they could manage. The sound of wings was heavy behind them, and it was not long before several dark shadows passed over the canopy under which they ran. Mickey, who felt his own strength was fading fast, eyed Minnie carefully. She was moving stiffly, wincing with every step. He was about to call out to her, asking if she was all right, when an enormous figure slammed into the snow in front of them.

Minnie screamed and Mickey instinctively jumped in front of her, reaching for his bow. But his hand came up empty, and he realized he must have dropped it during his watery ordeal. So he found himself facing down the creature with as much courage as he could muster and raised his cloak against its dark, inky claws. It made a motion to bring them down upon him and Mickey winced, preparing himself for the blow. But then came the sound of a strange howl and a hellish screech, and when Mickey looked, he found the fairy pinned to the ground by a strange creature. There was no time to make out its features, so Mickey simply thought a prayer of thanks that both monsters were preoccupied and helped Minnie to her feet, knowing full well the other fae would be catching up with them soon.

“How do we stop them?” He shouted to Minnie over the sound of their pounding steps and ragged breaths.

She looked at him, fatigue and pain written across her face. “They…they’re weak to iron,” she gasped, barely able to finish the words. “But I don’t know where we-”

Then it hit Mickey, and he narrowed his eyes, something akin to a plan forming in his head. “I do!” he shouted, spotting a familiar patch of stone and hearing the river coursing to their left. “But we’ve gotta get to the other side of the river! Do you trust me?”

The girl stumbled over herself, and Mickey caught her by her wrist, utter determination shining in his eyes. It must have won her over because, trembling, she murmured a quiet “yes”, and grasped his hand.

The heat that rushed through them gave them a sudden boost of strength as Mickey raced full force towards the edge of the gorge then leapt with all he had for the other side, holding Minnie’s hand tight as she leapt alongside him. With a spark of panic, he drew in a breath, thinking for a moment that they were going to miss their target. But a breeze kicked up beneath them, not unlike the one that had urged Mickey into the forest to begin with, and it granted him just enough height to be able to send Minnie to the upper bank with a decisive push. Mickey himself came up just short, and found himself clinging to the edge of the bank whose surface of snow quickly dissolved beneath his hand.

He gasped, kicking his legs in the hope of reaching a ledge to push himself up, but found nothing. Just as his grip gave way, Minnie darted over the edge and grabbed him by the arm, hoisting him up onto the other side. They both collapsed and panted for air, knowing all the time they could not afford this brief moment of recovery.

Sure enough, just as they stood another fairy landed ahead of them, scarlet eyes glowing in the dappled shadows of the forest. But Mickey spotted what he’d been looking for just behind them, and began to think up just how to reach it.

“Minnie…” he whispered, eyeing the fairy and taking cautious steps along the cliff’s edge as the being began to inch forward. “Do you see that lump of snow just behind them?”

Minnie squinted, then nodded briskly.

“There’s somethin’ over there. I need ya to get it ready while I distract our friend here. Then when I tell ya, throw it his way and run. Got it?”

She looked at him, obviously concerned but faced with little to no other alternative. “Got it…” she murmured, releasing his grip and shuddering. Mickey flashed her a less-than-confident smile, then scooped up a handful of snow and ran at the beast. She gave him a petrified look that he didn’t see but, shaking her head, she quickly recalled his instructions and darted in the opposite direction.

To be honest, Mickey was terrified. The fairy before him was twice his size and if either he or Minnie failed in their tasks, he was sure they’d be done for. But at the very least, he had something to fight for, and that simple fact gave him courage he was not used to possessing.

At first, the fairy seemed divided between the two targets. But Mickey flung a handful of snow its way, and that quickly made up its mind. With a growl, it spread its wings and ran at him with a shadowy spear that formed in its hands. Mickey yelped, just barely leaping out of the way as it stabbed the earth with its weapon. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Minnie with the net in hand, giving him a pointed look to declare she was ready for her part of the plan.

Mickey nodded her way and, taking a nervous breath, slid between the creature’s legs then found his grip on the earth and hollered loudly. “Over here, pal!”

The fairy whipped around, fury in its eyes, and blindly rushed towards the mouse. But Mickey jumped to the side at the last possible moment, leaving Minnie to throw the net at the beast. It let out a screech and for a brief moment, the two mice were certain they’d succeeded. And they would have, only Mickey had not moved far enough. As he leapt out of the way, he found his cloak briefly snagged on the fairy’s clawed hand. His cloak tore, freeing him from the creature’s grasp but putting him in the way of the net’s trajectory.

He shouted in pain as it caught around his leg, and collapsed in the snow, gasping as he tried to free himself. It burned, sending what felt like a shockwave through his entire body. But Minnie rushed over, untangling him from the netting as fast as he could, and helping him to his feet as his mind slowly recovered from the shock. “I’m so sorry!” she breathed, even as they began to stumble away from the writhing fairy who snarled furiously as they made their escape. Mickey did not respond, instead focusing on finding his breath. He did, however, send her a weak smile. This only seemed to worry her more.

A distant screech sounded from behind them and the two looked worriedly over their shoulders. “Just a little more…” Mickey muttered, limping forward. The threshold was in sight–he could see the moors just ahead, the grass still flooded with rain.

Minnie nodded but let out a shaky breath that made Mickey turn. Just as he did, she took a step and collapsed, body shivering violently.

“Minnie!” Mickey shouted, immediately falling to his knees and gathering her to himself. She was ice cold, a blue-ish hue upon her cheeks. “Hold on!” he urged her, using every ounce of his strength to lift her then racing for the edge of the forest, gritting his teeth against the pain in his wounded leg. Wings pounded behind him but he ignored them. There was no time to face the creature now. He only hoped it could not cross over the border to chase after them.

A cold breath blew against Mickey’s neck as a screech sounded in his ears. The fairy was just behind him. But it was too late. One more step, and Mickey had crossed the threshold. The forest vanished behind him, dissolving in a shimmer, and the sound of the fairy’s cries was taken up in the wind.

He collapsed, adrenaline dissipating into a flurry of trembling as he turned his attention to the girl in his arms, whom he gingerly placed on the grass.

“No, no…” he pleaded as her breaths grew faint. Terrified to touch her any more for fear of worsening her pain, he pulled the cloak from around his body and set it over her, hoping it would do something, anything to keep her warm.

A frostlike film had begun to coat her fur as if turning her to ice, and he recalled her words from before. Guilt struck his heart when he realized that she had abandoned the safety of the lake to help save him. He thought to turn back around, facing wicked fairies and all just to return her, but the forest refused to appear again, no matter how he begged for it to do so.

Then a thought flickered in his mind. How their touch had held such a warmth that it seemed almost like magic, and he wondered if that might be enough.

It was unlikely, to be sure, but he didn’t know what else to do. So he simply gathered her in his arms, tore the glove from his fingers, and held her hands in his.

Nothing. He shuddered at the cold as her icy fingers brushed his palm, but brought them to his cheek in the hopes of sharing as much warmth as he could, listening with a trembling spirit as her breathing slowed, then stopped.

He bit his lip as her chest stopped moving, waiting and hoping for a miracle. But after several seconds went by, he lowered his head and sat unmoving, staring blankly at the place where the forest had been. Until the silence set in, he had not realized how much joy the sound of her voice had brought him in the brief time he'd been privileged to hear it. The utter quiet that flooded back into his world was deafening, and seemed a terrible reminder of his failure. “I’m so sorry,” he whimpered at last, bringing her hand to his heart.

Then he felt it. A brief tremor of warmth amidst the stark chill that had overtaken her body. It began in her palm, a subtle glow that spread as Mickey continued to hold her. Hope fluttered in his chest as color began to return to her cheeks, and then spread to the rest of her.

But it didn’t stop there. The world itself seemed intent on celebrating. In that moment, the clouds parted to allow streams of sunlight through, and the air warmed until this small patch of moors was itself a beacon of spring.

Mickey paid none of this any mind, instead struggling to contain his joy as the girl in his arms drew a breath and opened her eyes. She seemed confused at first, and he felt at once quite embarrassed at the closeness to which he held her. But this did not seem to matter to Minnie who, blinking in the newfound rays of sun shining only for them, was overcome with wonder.

“Mickey…”She breathed and looked up at him with eyes full of gratitude and curiosity. Then she laughed softly and squeezed his palm back, a single question gracing her lips as they both felt the heat of their touch flood their veins. “What are we?”

17 notes · View notes

denimbex1986 · 5 months

Text

'“You talk about no one, ever. You just keep charging on”

Well, that was mad.

Who knew when we all settled down to watch the latest Doctor Who that we were getting The Two Doctors Reboot, nice and early? We basically got a 40 minute episode then a 20 minute episode here, bringing the 60th birthday trilogy to a close, and setting up, well, seemingly everything.

The Giggle, then, is a fairly traditional episode of Doctor Who on the surface. A foe from the past, a fancy corridor to run down, the world under threat. That sort of thing.

What’s more, it’s an episode that wasted no time at all bringing The Celestial Toymaker back from the 1960s, now not in the guise of Michael Gough, but looking incredibly like Neil Patrick Harris instead. Harris with a German accent no less, behind the counter of a 1926 Soho store when we first meet him. He’s dancing to the Spice Girls by the time we watch him drop a ball, and that gives an indication as to just how fast and furious The Giggle would turn out to be.

After the opening credits, we’re in London, and all is not well. Lots of smoke, looting, cars rampaging on pavements. On the surface, a little bit of a horror movie, with a creepy ventriloquist’s dummy mixing in a bit of the 1940s movie Dead Of Night with a dose of Saw.

There was a threatened subplot setup about John Logie Baird, the invention of television, and the seeding of something that’s been subtly threatening the human race since the invention of said telly. But once Russell T Davies had made his point, it was pretty quickly shelved. It’s an idea that at any other time could have happily been explored in a full episode. Here, it was needed to the point that it wasn’t. And when it wasn’t, it was gone.

The point that Davies was making? Well, you could call it subtext, but it was so close to the surface of what was going on we may as well call it text. The unbeatable enemy here wasn’t The Toymaker, it was humans. Worse: the brand of humans who think they’re always right. Facebook comments boards in walking, talking form.

Even UNIT doesn’t know what to do about them.

As Davies points out, they shout, they cancel. They’re even offered Zeedex, a vaccine against trouble of sorts, and they criticise it.

It would be fair to say that The Giggle is not Russell T Davies at his most subtle, but clearly deliberately so. He’s got something to say, and boy, does his script say it.

Yet as soon as he’s done with that, the television and the doll are shuttled off, as there’s much else to get through.

It would, after all, be fair to say that The Giggle had a hell of a lot going on, and much was splashed on the screen.

If last week’s Wild Blue Yonder was the slightly more contained of the three episodes we’ve just had (and my favourite), perhaps saving a few of Disney’s dollars by sticking mainly to a single location with a small cast, here Davies is emptying the piggy bank in ten minutes flat.

Again, it’s not special effects per se (although they were not skimped on – witness the folding up shop): it’s scale. A busy London street looks really busy. Chaos looks like chaos The helicopter flying over London actually looks like a helicopter flying over London.

And that’s before we get to the new UNIT headquarters. The first clues were the branded armour on the UNIT troops. Then, off we pop to a tower that looks like it’s been bought off Tony Stark, and not at a discount.

I think most of us are expecting, thanks to the Whoniverse logo that now precedes episodes of Doctor Who, that we’re going to be getting spin-offs in due course. The scale of the UNIT set and the sheen of its new tower means my money’s on that being one spin-off right there. Especially as it offers a welcome pension scheme for erstwhile Doctor Who companions. There’s a job offer for Donna Noble for a start.

It turns out there’s a second spin-off that’s also set up: David Tennant’s 14th Doctor is still in play, and we’ve now got two TARDISes. Will that be explored as a possible option? Who knows, but I’d not bet against seeing Tennant again in the show.

Let’s go though to what was set up as the meat of the episode: the face-off between Neil Patrick Harris’ much-hyped The Toymaker, and Tennant’s Doctor. All with Donna Noble involved too. A rematch, now in our universe, nearly 60 years in the making.

It’s The Toymaker up against a doubtful Doctor too, one questioning his effectiveness. “Take away the toys, what am I?”, he questions, giving the Time Lord the kind of gravitas and weight that Tennant has always excelled at. At one stage almost a failing Doctor too, one with his confidence stripped away.

Is this the continued weight of the Flux on his shoulders here? It – along with Trial Of A Time Lord – certainly gets another reference here. At one stage, a puppet show even. Heck, the puppet version of the Doctor’s history: we’re up to spin-off number three. Would watch.

Interesting fella then, The Toymaker. He reminded me of when Russell T Davies re-introduced The Master all the way back in 2007. John Simm’s take on that particular foe was played big, a rampaging, loud, scene-demanding antagonist, not shy of a pop song. Certainly a marked difference from how we’d seen The Master before.

Neil Patrick Harris – at his most creepy in a suit in the background, staring at the camera – is more than up to what’s asked of him here, and it’s a not dissimilar approach. The words ‘quiet’ and ‘subtle’ were not part of the pitch.

It’s a whole lot of fun though, if not always a settled and particularly interesting take on the character. When he appears from the sky as a puppeteer, I confess, I wasn’t unnerved. When he was silent, staring in the background, I was.

A doll reciting poetry while walking slowly past a clock in the wall? Yep, that was creepier. A dance with Jemma Redgrave – welcome back! – to the Spice Girls? Again, less so. The smaller the ask, the more unnerving The Toymaker became.

But then, after all the build-up, not actually much time. It was lovely to see Bonnie Langford’s Melanie Bush again – quieter than usual – but again, not much time with her. Perhaps we’ll meet her again. Hope so.

The first 40 minutes then, the episode that we though we were getting, was perfectly decent, entertaining, breezy, and occasionally very funny (Donna knowing exactly when to run). Credit to director Chanya Button for keeping up with it all.

The last 20 minutes? Well, where do you start.

Doctor Who has always changed, always evolved, and rightly so. Right before our eyes tonight, it was rewriting its rule book again, and there was much to take it.

It was, in two words, a lot.

We’ve had a premature David Tennant regeneration before, but when he started getting the glow some 15 minutes from the end of The Giggle, I confess I was expecting a more traditional handover, albeit with Davies giving us an unexpected 15 minutes to get to know, well, the 15th Doctor.

What we got was something new: bi-regeneration.

That, plus a TARDIS with a jukebox. A Doctor parading around in his pants. Fourteen and 15 hugging it out. And an actual happy ending for a Doctor. Bet the BBC gets letters about some of that, too. Probably from the same lot that wrote in last time.

Things just kept on coming. This was full-on blockbuster television, and a very clear sign of where things are heading.

Just one of those things we got in the last act would have been new: in Davies’ latest generation of Who, we got the whole lot in a quarter of an episode. You ain’t going to get much slowdown in a Saturday night slot either.

I should note that a few things have been seeded here alongside the pair of Doctors and their respective vehicles.

The Master’s clearly back in play, and not just because of the namecheck of the Archangel network. The picking up of the tooth at the end (yep) had a ring of the last reel of 1980’s Flash Gordon about it. We know The Master’s in there: but who picked the tooth up? Someone at UNIT presumably. For now, they’re not telling.

There’s more too.

Who are the “legions” that the Toymaker talks of? Again, there’s clearly more threat coming, because he was incredibly easily defeated here after being told how deadly he was. It made the regular batterings of the Daleks look difficult. But also, we’re told of The One Who Waits. Who’s that? Whoever or whatever it is, it’s clearly Ncuti Gatwa’s problem. And it sure looks, from the glimpse that we’ve had, that Gatwa is going to have a lot of fun trying to solve it.

He may even need to invest in a pair of trousers.

Even writing this all down though, what I got from all of this, as much as Russell T Davies was repainting and rewiring the show, was a deep love of it from him. The time taken to pay tribute to Sarah-Jane. The mention of Adric. That aforementioned puppet show. Even protecting moles from Wilf. All of this is the woven fabric of the show, and it’s very, very clear that Davies is building on it, not disposing of it. I love that.

Here, he’s used a trilogy to give fans new and old something. The old farts like me are far more Wild Blue Yonder, I’d imagine, but I had fun with The Giggle, even if I wanted more of The Giggle in it. The last 20 minutes took me very much by surprise, and for a show that’s entering its seventh decade (!), how impressive is that?

It’s been a fun trilogy of episodes, this. And what we got here was the culmination of an ambitious, top-to-bottom reintroduction of the show that’s already got a fresh run of episodes waiting for us, beginning with the festive special.

This, then, is Doctor Who. And this is now the future of the show.

It ain’t going to be everyone. But all signs are, it’s going to be quite a ride. Roll on Christmas…'

5 notes · View notes

illfoandillfie · 2 years

Text

Making Art (Kinktober Day 14: Double Penetration)

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Fairy!Lucy Boynton x Reader x Fairy!Rami Malek (plus mentions of fairy ben and gwil)

Words: 3,320

Warnings: double penetration, sex slavery, oral sex (both m a f receiving), some pussy spanking, groping, groping while she’d unconscious (brief), public sex, sex with an audience, a lil bit of triple penetration, pornography, inspection, references to all the previous chapters lmao

A/N: Part of the Fairy AU. Couldn’t resist writing more of this tbh.

It was Gwilym’s idea to start. He’d mentioned it in passing when Lucy had first let him examine you but, apparently, she’d quite liked the idea. It served a dual purpose – get everyone excited about the upcoming bacchanal festival, and show off her power as their queen. No one could disapprove of a queen who not only protected them from a human but also subdued that human and turned her into a harmless sex doll. So, Lucy had told Gwilym to make the arrangements and before you knew it you were making a pornographic magazine. You were happy to do what Lucy asked but it had been an exhausting couple of weeks and you were glad to be near the end. The artist Gwilym hired, a tall, broad man with a patchy beard, was renowned for his pornographic creations. He’d done every sort of scene imaginable from sweet and soft to predatory and painful. Barely a fae existed who had not owned one of his works at some time or another because his catalogue was so diverse that you were nearly guaranteed to find something you liked. And when Lucy and Rami sat down to discuss options, they were thrilled with his vision. Together, they’d picked out important scenes the fae folk should see and over the last couple of weeks you’d filmed them all.

The first few days had been spent down by the mushroom ring where you’d entered the faerie world so long ago. You’d been given a black dress to wear, though it was artfully torn to expose enough of your body to titillate the people. A small taste of what was to come. The artist had sat down on a chair he’d brought down, pulled out a sketchpad and began using magic to create small samples of colours from the world around you. Then he’d posed you and made you stand while he sketched out his piece. It took a lot less time than you’d assumed it would but, as he’d explained to Lucy, he had to be fast to capture sexual scenes. “Sex can change in a second, especially where magic is concerned. I like my subjects to actually perform the acts I depict, instead of just simulating them. I give some direction but I like them to be natural so I’ve learnt to be quick enough to beat an orgasm. Of course, usually my subjects can do multiple takes but clean up in between can sometimes kill a mood so I try not to take too long.” His process seemed to consist of making sketches in his book that he’d take back to his workshop to finish on a larger scale. And then he’d apply a potion to the artwork which would create the movement, a small video on the pages of a magazine.

Once he’d satisfied himself with the arrival scene you’d moved on to the moment you were captured and taken to the queen. You’d thought perhaps actors would be hired but, again, you’d been wrong. Lucy was adamant that she should star in it herself, that if her people were going to see their queen dominate a human they should really see it. When you showed your surprise and told her that world leaders in the human world could lose their jobs because of sex scandals, she’d laughed and reminded you the fae folk thought very differently. A former beloved King of the faeries had released a sex tape every Yuletime as a gift to his people and others before him had had their likeness captured in erotic portraits or wrote heavy tomes detailing their lusty escapades. This was going to be part of her legacy. And, as such, she would personally pose for her scenes, as would anyone else involved. Which meant that you were joined in the mushroom ring by Benjamin and a few of his soldiers. The artist recorded Ben knocking you out with pixie dust as his soldiers held you and then, while you were passed out, each of them had their chance to feel you up, tearing your clothes more in the process. With multiple people in the scene, the artist required a few extra takes and so you found yourself being alternately woken and made unconscious three or four times in a row before he was satisfied. And there wasn’t really any way to tell how long you were out for any one time. All you knew was that you’d been touched by the men, your pussy a little wetter each time you woke. But, eventually, the artist was satisfied and everyone moved to the throne room to perform your presentation to Lucy. You knelt on the floor, arms bound behind your back and a strip of fabric gagging you, as Lucy stood over you and grabbed your face, menacingly examining her prey while Ben and his men watched. After that you, Lucy, and the artist moved down to the room with the stone dais, so you cold recreate the moment she tricked you into eating her out and thus became your owner. It felt a little odd performing such an act with the audience of the artist but you soon forgot he was there, all your attention on pleasing your queen.

The artist was the talk of the castle since most weren’t privy to his sessions. His reputation as one of the fae world’s leading erotic directors assured that everyone was interested in what he was doing in the castle. At first the rumour mill said he was creating portraits of the king and queen, which they would exchange as gifts on their wedding day. But, as the week wore on and more people became involved, the speculation got closer to the truth. Your first feast in the castle was re-created, though the hall was empty save for those important people who sat beside the Queen. Naturally there needed to be a depiction of Lucy presenting you to her courtiers, her fairness and your forced submission on display, but she couldn’t single anyone out without creating jealous conflicts or fuelling rivalries. So, instead, one of Lucy’s maids was dressed up in place of a noble woman and you were introduced to her as you had been introduced to Lucy’s subjects on that night. And, of course, Rami had fun bending you over the long table again. After that Gwilym agreed to give away a couple of his secrets and performed a small examination of you for the artist. Nothing so thorough as you were used to but it allowed him to get some detailed sketches of your tits and then your pussy being fingered and fucked. The detailed shot of your arse came when he sketched you being trained – plugged and chained to the wall while you fellated one of your dildos, Lucy just beside you, ready to punish you if need be.

And then there was a night where you were taken to the woods. The story of your brazen escape attempt while your queen was in a neighbouring land. Benjamin got to play the hero, capturing you and dealing you a severe punishment in the dungeons. You didn’t dare point out the story was fake. That he’d actually made you run through the woods at night so he could hunt you down. You knew that Lucy was likely the only one who’d believe you and she’d just point out the escape made a better story. That you would be the wicked human who tried and failed to outwit the Queen’s men. It’d make her and those she trusted most seem more powerful, more reliable. It’d make it seem like turning you into her obedient pet was harder than it had been and yet she’d still succeeded. She used a similar reason when she agreed to a scene where a small group of maids took liberties with you while bathing and readying you for your duties. Tiana starred alongside you in that scene and you couldn’t help but feel quite flustered by her presence. Especially when Lucy declared she’d enjoy watching Tiana use you.

But, finally, it seemed as if the artist had almost got everything he needed. He wanted some final pages that showed how Lucy had successfully conditioned you to behave. That she’d beaten the human and now you were her willing slave. That showed her and her soon to be king consort as the powerful leaders the fae folk deserved. So he needed some shots of Lucy and Rami sharing you, dominating you together. The artist didn’t have anything specific in mind. He was happy to watch things play out naturally, quickly sketching what he saw. It started with you on your hands and knees, Lucy fingering you as Rami and the artist watched on. By then you were well and truly accustomed to being watched by the artist, so it took no time at all for Lucy to declare you ready for her cock as she summoned a dildo, her favourite one to fuck you with. She set it up and slid into you, making you moan from the first thrust. “Good girl,” she cooed at you, “but your whore sounds will wake the whole castle. Rami, shut her up.” Her sweet tone turned authoritative and almost mean as she gave your arse a slap. The sharp sting made you gasp right as Rami grabbed you by the hair, holding you still as he pressed his cock into your mouth. He made you gag, holding you down as the artist hastily sketched the position. “Don’t stop on my account,” the artist said, flipping to a blank page, “Do what you will to the whore.” Rami didn’t need to be told twice, pulling out enough so you could gasp for breath before thrusting into your throat again. He didn’t need to push you all the way down, Lucy had found a rhythm that did it for him, forcing you to his base with each stroke of her strapon. When it started to feel like you didn’t have enough breath to continue you tried to pull back, but Rami tugged on your hair and Lucy leaned forward, stopping you from moving at all as she shushed you and whispered in your ear. “Uh uh, pet. Rami likes your throat too much. Tell him you like his cock too.” You moaned, tears in your eyes as you tried not to panic. “That’s right,” she said sweetly, “you’ve gotten so much better at swallowing cock, haven’t you?” You tried to moan again but were interrupted by a wet gag which made Rami’s hips buck. Lucy laughed as she tugged you backwards, drool running down your chin as you took a few hasty breaths. “Do you like it when she gags, my love?” “Mmhmm,” Rami groaned, “Feels so good.” “Hear that Pet?” She shoved you back down his length, her cock jerking in your cunt, “Keep gagging or else.” They didn’t give you much choice in the matter, though you would have forced yourself to gag even if they had. Lucy grabbed your hips as she began fucking you properly again, each stroke deep and hard and matching the way Rami was fucking your throat. They were nearly always in sync, though the closer Rami got the more he jerked and twitched and fell out of time. But that just made it harder for you to keep up with and more likely he’d force you to gag or choke again. You could barely hear the scratch of the artist’s pencil over all the wet sounds the two of them were pulling from you. Especially once Rami started groaning with how close he was getting. Lucy made sure to degradingly praise you, remarking on what an obedient toy you were and how easy it was to use you. But she also threw out commands too, reminding everyone that she was the one in charge and that you belonged to her. As Rami got closer Lucy told you to get him off so you started trying to moan again, in between the gags he still enjoyed hearing. Lucy’s hand slid underneath you, her fingers finding your clit quickly, “You can do better than that whore. Here I’ll help.” There was a sudden electric tingle as Lucy released a bolt of magic directly against your clit. It was like a vibrator but so much stronger and you were forced to cum, moaning around Rami as the pleasure kept going.

The sensation on stopped when Rami came, his cock twitching as he emptied himself into your mouth. But you made sure to swallow everything, not wanting to disappoint. Rami hummed as you kept sucking on him, making sure he’d completely finished, and then pulled out, slapping your cheek with his still hard cock. “That was hot,” Lucy gave another thrust, a reminder that she was not through with you yet, “I think I want to see you cum again.” She pushed you down then, working up to a punishing pace she hadn’t been able to achieve while sharing you with Rami. And then there was another bolt of magic. It sank into your skin from both her palms, the tingly heat rising in you as you moaned into the sheets, your cunt clenching around her dildo as she forced you to cum again. Lucy’s hips slowed as you tightened, making it harder for her to move inside you. And then, as it began to subside and you tried to catch your breath, it started up again. A few thrusts of Lucy’s cock and then you were cumming again, muscles tightening and pussy dripping, before you were ready. Lucy rubbed her own clit as she watched you writhe, getting off on your whines as you became more sensitive. It only stopped when she came. “How was that?” she asked the artist. “Incredible, your highness.” He discreetly palmed himself. "Excellent. But, I was thinking it might be useful if you had some options. Maybe a couple of other positions to choose from. We want the people to have the very best examples of my pet’s obedience, don’t we?” “That we do,” the artist agreed quickly, his eyes raking over your exposed pussy, “Might I suggest this time you’re a little meaner to her? Really show off how you’ve put her in her place.” “Good idea.” Lucy clapped her hands together excitedly, “Rami dear, why don’t you fuck her arse. I’ll keep using her cunt for now.” You whined as you felt yourself being grabbed and manhandled into position. Rami sat on the edge of the bed and pushed you to bend as he removed your plug, and then you were unceremoniously pulled onto his shaft. Either he or Lucy had magically conjured enough lube that he slipped into you with relative ease, but it was still a little uncomfortable at first. Neither of them seemed to notice or care when you whimpered though. Rami just thrust up into you, working himself deeper into your arse. Lucy gave him a minute or so to get adjusted, giggling when he groaned about how tight you were. But she didn’t hold off for too long before she was pushing your legs wider and sliding into your cunt.

You still felt sensitive from the orgasms she’d forced you to have but it was a complement that Lucy wanted your cunt again. “Thank you, my queen,” you gasped out she eased deeper. Lucy smiled and tucked your hair behind your ear and then gave a hard thrust that made you whimper. “Don’t worry, whore, I’ll make sure you’ll enjoy this.” There was a pause and then she added, “or else.” with a playful laugh. You didn’t have time to react because both Rami and Lucy started thrusting into you then. They’d shared you like this before but the overwhelming fullness of both of them still took some getting used to. All you could do was try to breathe as they put on a show of dominating you, roughly using your holes. They expected a display of gratitude from you, ordering you to moan more so they knew you liked being their fuck toy. And when your moan stuttered out after a particularly hard thrust, Lucy decided you needed the help and forced another orgasm from you. It made you whine with how sensitive you were, tears in your eyes, but she just slapped your cheek. “You better not be complaining.” “I’m not,” you whimpered, “I love this.” “Hear that Rami, she loves this.” Rami groaned from behind you, “As she should.” Lucy just hummed in agreement as she leaned forward to kiss him over your shoulder. The shift forced her to bottom out in your cunt and Rami must have felt how deep she was because he groaned and came suddenly. “Can I have your cum too my queen?” you asked, breathless and desperate to please. “Not like this. But yes.” She pulled out, the sudden emptiness almost as bad as being stimulated when you were already over sensitive.

You were once again manhandled, dropped into the middle of the bed. Lucy unfastened the dildo and pressed it into your ass as Rami cleaned himself up. She was quick to mount your face, her cunt nearly dripping from how much she’d enjoyed using you. You eagerly lapped at her folds. It was your favourite part of being her pet. She’d taught you to enjoy being shared, to enjoy taking cock in every hole. But you loved her pussy. You loved pleasuring her like that. And she knew as much. This was a reward for being good for the artist. Lucy came quickly, you made sure of it, but she just kept rocking against your mouth. So you moaned into her, wanting her to know how much you enjoyed being under her. Rami didn’t waste much time either. Your cunt was now free, begging to be filled again, so he settled between your thighs without a word. You felt Lucy lean forward to kiss him again but it was just a quick peck and she soon settled back to hump your mouth as he enthusiastically fucked you. It made you moan again which just made Lucy grind harder. But the two cocks filling you were a touch distracting and Lucy needed to remind you that you were meant to be getting her off. She spanked your sore, overstimulated, pussy. You cried out, the sound muffled of course, but redoubled your efforts, apologising for getting distracted with your tongue. She seemed to accept it and moaned prettily as she came again. But she still wasn’t done.

Rami came again before she was satisfied. He pulled out so he could coat your cunt in his semen before shoving his cock back inside. The artist made a sound of joy at the sight of the mess. “That is the perfect way to close off the magazine. But...perhaps one more load. So it’s obvious how much you use her.” You only took notice of the conversation when Lucy, having cum again, climbed off your face. “Would you like to help?” You turned your head to see the artist, hand on his chest asking, “me?” “Of course you.” Lucy laughed, “you’ve done so much for us these last weeks. Seems only fair that you get a first hand idea of how well trained our pet is.” She turned to you, “Be a good girl and suck him off.” You didn’t need to be told twice, already opening your mouth before she’d finished giving the order. Lucy picked up the sketchbook and flicked through it as the two men took their turns, the dildo still fucking your arse, “These are going to be incredible when they’re finished. But I think you’re right, she does need to be made a proper mess so everyone knows how much of a cumwhore we’ve made her.”

#my writing #my fics #lucy boynton x reader #lucy boynton smut #lucy boynton imagine #rami malek x reader #rami malek smut #rami malek imagine #hopefully it all makes sense #wrote the ending in a rush cause i gotta leave for the dentist in like 15mins and im not even dressed yet ksfjsjflsf

33 notes · View notes