#there was another version of the shrunken eyes
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"Don't bleed on my carpet" I can see YN maybe getting a booboo and Sun and or Moon freaking out
Moon-Centric | Wordcount: 1,648 | AO3 Version
Contains some spoilers for ARC 3 (Post-Fire) of Solar Lunacy, so please consider this a crumb! Notes: Contains blood mention, obv, and character exibihiting some subtle signs of PTSD.
Nosebleeds sucked. Unpredicatable most of the time, and inconvienent. You don't even feel it happening until droplets of blood splatter on your phone screen as your looking down. So you sigh, stand up from the table and attempt to hold your nose back as you fumble your way to the bathroom.
The Daycare Attendant isn't here at the moment, downstairs helping Gramps with something, so it's a bit of a fummble to the bathroom without blood dripping everywhere by yourself.
The flow was heavy. You inwardly cringe as you hear a few droplets hit the floor, and holding your head back, you hold out a hand to feel against the wall to guide you, and scold yourself when you realize you just probably smeared blood on the wall as well.
You make it to the bathroom, don't even bother turning on the main lights, flicking on only the nightlight that you keep in the outlet under the mirror. Your friend doesn't like it when some rooms are dark, and others are brightly lit. Could cause rapid changes, or a possible Eclipse. You find the toliet paper and bunch it up easy enough with what illumination you have.
Winter was such a pain sometimes. You were prone to nosebleeds when the air was so dry like this. You should look into getting a humidifier or something.
A few scrunched up balls of toliet paper shoved up your nose later, the blood isn't showing any sign of stopping, and a pile of bloody tissue is collecting into a pile by the sink. You sigh, head light. That's gonna be annoying to clean up, as well as the rest of the stains. You also made the mistake of wiping your phone onto your shirt without thinking about it before. THAT was going to be one nasty stain to get rid of, if you can even salvage it.
On the sixth tissue ball, you hear the front door open. You'd call out if it wasn't for the sneeze you felt rising, and for the sake of now spewing blood and snot all over your bathroom mirror, you put your effort into holding it back.
The door shuts, clicks and locks. A few padded footsteps for some paces, then stop. There's a quiet pause as the sneeze subsides, and then the sudden sound of hurried movement through the house, walking quickly over your own path-
The door to the bathroom that was cracked open is swung completly outwards, an ridged animatronic grips the doorhandle with a tightens that almost cracks it.
Moon's smile is strained, eyes as wide as the times nightmares only bring forth, and shrunken pupils scan before they find you.
A heartbeat passes (and you probably look stupid, tissued-up and stuffy nosed) as the robot blinks, the tension in his form lessens, and gaze softens.
You talk stuffy and dry. "What? What's wrong?"
Pupils, no longer small, fall down to where blood drips off your chin and onto the bathroom mat. "Don't bleed on my carpet."
"YOUR carpet?" You scoff, and it comes out a bit choked. The last thing you wanted was blood traveling down your sinuses and down your throat. "Excuse you! My house! My Carpet!"
"Laundry mess." He talks low again, and it sounds like teasing. Whatever strain that was in his fave prior has melted away, and the robot leaves the door open as he steps forwards. A hand comes to you without permission, fingers gripping your jaw and positioning your head towards him for a better look.
Moon doesn't tut at you, but his expression spells the idea. "You're doing it wrong."
You've half a mind to sneeze on HIM just to get your space back, and to be annoying on purpose, but the hand on your jaw slides against your skin to the back of your neck, and you feel fingers wrap around there, a few running up into your hair. Your head is promptly pushed to face downwards, another tissue is brought to your nose as you feel the blood rush.
"Look down. Not up." Moon speaks. Whatever argument you have is muffled by tissue and trying to breathe now that you've been flipped a bit. He presses the tissue to your nostirils, blood soaking through to his fingertips. "Drain it. Breathe through your mouth."
"Yeah, okay, Doc." You talk, a bit breathy because yeah maybe he had a point there. It's a gross feeling, and it feels awkward, but the blood flow starts to lessen after a minute, and it's nice not having to keep trying from swallowing anything in the sinuses. "Did you have fun with Gramps?"
Moon makes a small sound of aknowledgment. He does not move his hands from your face or the back of your head.
You talk to fill the silence. "Whattya guys do, anyway?" Raising your hands, you try to replace his own. "I can do this part myself, by the way."
He does not let you, that is, until the tissue needs replacing and has no choice but to pull away the old one. "Magic tricks."
"Magic tricks?"
"He wanted to learn." A quick hand replaces the space of your own with a new tissue. You give up, letting your arms fall to your side. Moon is attentive when it comes to your face, and low-lidded as he wipes the blood stain on your upper lip. "Be still."
You stick out your tongue. He pushes it back in with his thumb. "I said, be still."
"Whatever." It's a bit demeaning, this act. It also feels nice to be cared for in such a gentle manner. Maybe it's his programming, but you know it's just what they like to do. Still, he's slow in movements, and you glance back to the mess you've made on the sink. "Does the blood not bother you anymore?"
Maybe not the best thing to say, and you realize that instantly after it leaves your mouth. Moon's movements pause, if only for a moment. "No."
"I can clean up the blood."
"It's okay."
"And the mess in the living room."
"It's fine."
"I can do this part too, you know, if you're still-"
A tighter grip around your face, Moon's smile thins into annoyance. "Stop. Moving."
Fine, sure. You raise your hands up into the air as a mockery of surrender as he runs a rag underneath the sink water and dabs it in places where blood traveled and you did not see. Your faces is scrubbed clean (ratherly harshly, and probably thanks to your commentary) along with your neck and collarbone. He doesn't bother with the stains on your shirt or shirt collar and you take that as inward confirmation that this shirt was done for.
So you stand in the process, eyes closed and thinking about what to make for dinner as the animatronic does his work. Finally after a good five minutes of silence, he lets you go. Opening your eyes, Moon steps back, looking you over once more. The blooded rag is tossed into the garbage bin instead of the laundry basket, and he turns from you to gather the tissue paper on the sink and dump those in the trash as well. "Shirt."
"Yeah, yeah I know, I know." You're pulling the shirt off before he even finished the sentence, running a thick part, unstained part under the water before exiting the bathroom. Might as well use it to clean up the rest if you can't salvage the clothing.
Luckily for you, the stains on the floor and wall come off with some hard scrubbing and some cleaner you keep under the kitchen sink. You've tossed the ruined shirt into the trash as Moon exits the bathroom, presummably finished cleaning in there, and make eye contact in the hallway.
He looks normal, almost default as red eyes and white pupils look over your rather disheviled, shirtless form. But your gaze glances down to his hands, twitchy, stuffed inside of the sweatpants you scored for them at a thrift store, and you know better.
You sniff with a clear sinus this time. "I'm all better now."
Moon's faceplate turns to an sharp angle.
"How do you feel?" You test the waters. The dark of the hallway feels warm, the glow of his unwavering gaze feels warmer. "Moon-?"
"Fine." He cuts you off. The animatronic walks up to you, a hand raised, it comes to your face, his own unchanging. A warm palm presses against your cheek, to your neck, against your pulse.
Double checking. It's all it is. Double checking.
"Fine." He repeats, and his palm drops. "Go sit."
You wish you could read his expression. Sometimes you can't. The animatronic turns his back and you do the same to the living room, finding your phone on the coffee table where you've left it. You're screen is still-mid spot where the mobile game left you, so you save your place.
A moment later, a shirt is thrown over your head, and crinckly package tossed in your lap. Lifting up the frabic, some basic crackers are in front of you. The weight on the sofa shifts as Moon plops down as you're pulling on the shirt, his own form criss-crossing.
It is better not to push. Not unless you wanted to trigger an unwanted, stressful change. "Wanna see this game I'm playing? You take care of digital little cats."
His head tilts again, this time more of curisoity than something else. You crawl into the lap waiting for you, pulling up the game and positioning the screen so he could watch. No words are said, but comfortability is had, and the two of you settle. Silence is broken only by the sound of the buttons clicking and game music playing.
Moon chuckles, though, when you capture a cat and that's half-black and white and name is after him.
#Solar Lunacy#writings#tw blood#fnaf sb#fnaf moon#fnaf moondrop#moondrop#moon x reader#moondrop x reader#ARC 3
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𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧
a/n -- just a gender neutral, simple, and short smut for halloween! (so short, just haven't been in the zone lately) - happy halloween!
words -- 1.1k (verryyyy short)
warnings -- handjob (Johnny receiving), bad dialogue/ooc (maybe, wrote it as all Johnny Cage's applicable)
~~~
“Johnny.” You censured, eyes laying on him as he walked into the common area of his mansion. The size made it hard to tell where the line of each room ended and began.
He could tell where your disapproval laid, “You said I either have a thick skull or a tiny brain.”
You didn’t say those exact words last night. It was no secret that Johnny was a big spender, even when he lacked the money to afford a shining quality like that. The night before his big halloween party, and his chain of other parties left this one unplanned, so he splurged on decorations and booze that, thankfully, wasn’t as old as Mileena. You had told him that he either had a thick skull or thought with his dick. And now, he stood before you in a cheap halloween costume.
“So your answer to that is… this?” Your hand flagged him from the neck down, where his body was covered in a full-bodysuit made of shrunken wool that hugged his every inch. Thin vinyl was plastered over it to replicate a cartoonish version of the skeletal system, like he was getting an XXX-ray. His upper body was fine, and surprisingly clothed unlike his previous record of annual exposure. Just south of his torso is where the trend continued this year, an extra piece of fabric made for his dick to fill out was apparent as the rest of his costume funneled down his legs and to his feet. Almost like a onesie, but nothing less than explicit. Was he seriously going to walk around like that at his own party? At least he wouldn’t have to ask for someone to hold his beer as he would have an unsteady walking-shelf to set it on that sprouted off his waist. Black may be slimming, but it could never hide his beast.
“I got a matching doctor costume and it was buy one, get one. No extra expense.” He waved it off, suggesting that it was no big deal. After last night, he had no clue if you were ready to leave Cage alone in his mansion or stick with him through another seasonal spending spree.
“Guess that’s it then. Johnny Cage is getting an exam.” You patted the printed sternum of his bodice, right about where his upper-chest would be. The notion ushered out a form of tension squeezing around Johnny’s lungs. Something the X-ray couldn’t find and something your watchful eye couldn’t discern.
He tittered on the first few syllables, “Gnarly movie title.” One thing about Johnny was that he didn’t act like he had something to hide.
“Just don’t let it be a horror flick.” You still couldn’t shake the fact that he wanted to watch Invasion of the Body Snatchers right after extra-terrestrial visitors had come to his home.
“I was thinking horror-comedy with a surprise cameo—me!” Johnny hurried out of the room and noisily cleared off the decorations on his marble-white kitchen counter by shoving them to the floor. He saw you follow in his steps at a slower pace, eye’s going from him to the scattered decorations all over the floor. “I know, I know. I’ll clean it up after.”
“I never said I was mad,” you started to jump the gun and make an assumption. Maybe Johnny should have handed you a prop gun and uniform from one of his old buddy-cop movies given how trigger-happy you were, “It just means I get to see that ass after we deal with this.”
Your hands found purchase with something else to squeeze, though. His thighs, lanky yet toned, made the fabric wrapped around them look uncomfortably tight. It was the most apparent on his boner, acting like a cock sleeve, or better yet, a black and white sock that was the typical cum-dump for someone of Johnny’s mental age.
“So, you said you were having some discomfort?” You let your hands ghost over him, pretending to feel around and find the source of his issue.
“Yeah, Doc. All my skin is gone and so are my organs and my… everything.” His hands took ahold of yours and guided you directly to his crotch, as if they had strayed to far and he needed to put them on the right path.
The hint was clear, so you quickly grasped his half-hard dick. Each pulse in your hand made it firm up even more. “Well, there’s something here… like, it’s blood… rushing.”
“What’s the diagnosis?” He feigned a wince and looked away, ready to hear the impetuous calumny.
“That you’re super dead… and maybe decapitated.”
“Give me some relief in the afterlife?” He said weakly, reaching up to grab your arm.
You giggled, trying to keep it under wraps and not break character. “Johnny, what’s the plot of this?”
“Just give me my peace…” He controlled his voice so that it slowly faded away and his eyes shut with camera-perfect timing, one peeping open to see your reaction a moment later as if it was your cue to speak up.
You laughed it off, choosing to not convolute the plot anymore and giving the skeleton his last wish. That was the best this a fake doctor-spouse could do for their partner, after all. Your hand hadn’t left the hold on his cock, feeling it practically burn against your skin, even through the cheap wool and vinyl. Johnny must not have been wearing anything under this bodysuit, since his face contorted as you jerked his shaft up until the tip. The unseen mushroom head was sensitive on the flat side, so you let the cloth and pressure against it do most of the work to rile him up.
It seemed to work and Johnny was undone within minutes. His back arched away from the cold marble he laid on, then his hips followed in a similar direction. Going up, he forced himself into the palm of your hand until the base hit the entrance of the tunnel your fingers formed around him. Something that physically and emotionally separated the two of you brought you closer, and Johnny got off on that idea more than seeing his own reflection.
Johnny’s hips kept bucking once the dam had burst. Glossy white percolated through the fabric and dribbled down the length of his covered shaft. As his desperation pushed him to the edge, he thrust himself into the air one more time, and the fabric had stretched enough for it to tear at the tip.
“Guess the party’s cancelled? No halloween costume means…”
“Well… I lied, earlier. It was a two for one, so I got four.”
#fanfic#x reader#x male reader#fanfiction#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage x you#johnny cage x male reader#johnny cage#johnny cage x gender neutral reader
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OMG I JUST THOUGHT OF THE GREATEST PROMPT
Okay so due to some experiment gone wrong Alcina shrinks down into a really small size (like she can fit in your hand). How does reader react? How does Alcina react? What hijinks ensue (looking at the girls)?
It took some time, but here we are! I am so behind on prompts. I hope you enjoy it.
Little Body, Big Temper
"There have been… complications.”
Your face twists into a snarl. From the moment Miranda suggested another experiment, you had doubts. Alcina, of course, wanting to please Miranda, agreed.
“I knew this was a horrible fucking idea! Where is she?!”
Miranda stepped aside, revealing the empty room behind her.
“SHE’S GONE?!” You yelled with your eyes ripped wide open.
“Look. Down.”
Lowering your gaze, your jaw dropped. Alcina, a… tiny Alcina, stood by Miranda’s feet. She barely even reached over the woman’s ankle!
“Holy shit.”
Kneeling, you took a closer look at your now tiny wife. Only to realise she was fuming.
“How are we supposed to have sex like this?!”
Her voice was high-pitched, for some reason. Your cheeks burn bright red as you look up at Miranda, gritting your words through your teeth.
“Fix. This.”
You wanted this fixed for more reasons other than Alcina’s high sex drive, of course. What would the girls think?
“If it doesn’t wear off by itself, I will start working on a cure. Go home in the meantime.”
Alcina took matters into her own hands and began to climb you, quite literally, like a tree. Pulling her tiny body up by your clothes, she eventually took a seat on your shoulder and held onto a tiny batch of your hair.
“Home.” Was the only word she grumbled next to your ear in a high-pitched tone.
—--
“Mama! Where’s Mother?” Cassandra asked once she stepped out of her swarm, smiling at you. “Did everything go well?”
You grimaced, offering a smile as you held up the tiny version of Alcina in your hands.
“Do not. Laugh.” Alcina said as she stared up at her child.
Oh and Cassandra tried, she truly did. Her face began to turn red as she stood and looked down at her tiny mother before a bubbly laugh burst out of her and she leaned over with laughter.
“Oh- Oh, this is amazing! BELA! DANI! C-Come downstairs! Mother is TINY!”
The other two soon swarmed into the main hall, looking at their sister in confusion before their eyes fell on their shrunken mother in their mama’s hands.
“OH!” Bela yelled with laughter, holding onto her younger sister as they laugh while Daniela stares in shock before picking up her mother from your hands.
“Mother..?”
Alcina sighs as she looks at her youngest, shrugging her shoulders and letting her hands drop.
“Stop laughing at your mother, you two!” You bellowed, shooing the two back upstairs as you scolded them before standing with Daniela.
“When is she.. uhm..” Daniela stuttered, looking at the tiny version of her mother standing in her hands.
“We don’t know yet.” You replied, picking Alcina back up and sitting her on your shoulder.
You could hear her huffing slightly as she gets passed around from lover to daughter and daughter to lover.
“Mother Miranda said that it should wear off by itself, hopefully. And if it’s not, she’s working on a cure. No need to worry. Now go upstairs and get ready for bed with your sisters.”
The redhead gave her tiny mother a last, worried look before swarming upstairs.
—--
“Draga.” Your lover’s shrill voice came from the ground.
Turning your head, you smiled down at your tiny wife. Alcina refused to speak lots because of how she sounded, so she simply lifted her arms as a sign that she wanted to be picked up.
You let out a small chuckle while carefully picking her up before she points to the sink.
“Oh, you want to get ready for bed. Of course.”
Setting Alcina down on the sink, she stood and watched as you grabbed a cotton swab and put some water on it after debating your choices.
Alcina grimaced as you began to rub the end of the cotton swab on her cheek.
“Oh stop that!” She yelled, swatting it away. “That is just horrendous!”
“How else am I supposed to wash you?! I can’t stick you in the bath, now, can I?! You have the height of this fucking cotton swab!” You yelled back, holding it up before tossing it into the trash.
“Y/n language!”
“Well there isn’t much you can do about it now, can you?”
Tiny Alcina’s eyebrows raised as she placed her hands on her waist, staring up at you.
“Oh just you wait, you little brat. Once I rise to my full height again, I will spank that foul language and attitude out of you, do you hear m-” She began her threat, pointing her little finger at you.
But for as long as you could, you decided to have some fun and take advantage of the situation.
“Go on with your threats and I’ll stick you in a jar.”
Alcina’s jaw dropped, her finger frozen midair. This was the first time you had ever talked back to her, and her reaction showed you that this was due long ago. You shook with the laugh vibrating in your chest which you tried to contain, in the end failing miserably and laughing down at the tiny version of your shock-frozen wife.
At least you were laughing until you slowly had to lean your head back to look at her.. and then the ceramic sink broke underneath Alcina’s weight.
Staring down at you was now Alcina at her full height once more, immediately wiping the laugh off your face along with every colour that had been on it.
“Now,” She grumbled, jaw clenched. “Would you like to step into the barrel yourself, or do you want me to squeeze you into it?”
You knew she wouldn’t leave you in there forever. But perhaps a few minutes to teach you a lesson.
You tried to smile, slowly moving backwards out of the bathroom.
“Your hair certainly looks magnificent, my lady. Even after all this-”
“GET HERE, YOU LITTLE-”
#alcina dimitrescu#resident evil#lady dimitrescu#ao3 author#ladydimitrescu#re8 lords#alcina x reader#re8#alcina dimitriscu x reader#mother miranda#re8 daniela#lady dimitrescu x reader#resident evil village#resident evil 8#re8 prompt
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What if a person just assumes the borrower is another human, just shrunk? I think most people wouldn’t immediately assume the very human-looking thing they’ve caught is another creature entirely (unless it’s one of those borrower versions with animal features like a tail and such). So the questions would be along the lines of: How did you shrink? Is there a way to get you back to normal?
The best part is that the ball is in the borrower’s court now. They have to choose between telling the human the truth about themselves, and potentially risk their safety by doing so. Or they could play along with the human’s assumptions and keep themselves in relative safety by letting the human think they’re one of them.
Obviously the lying option could lead to a lot of angst in the future if the human found out the truth. Especially if the human keeps trying their best to help the borrower get back to ‘normal size’ but nothing works, leaving the borrower wondering how long they’re willing to keep up the charade. Meanwhile the human gets more and more upset that they can’t help their tiny friend.
OH I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS
The sheer angst potential with the borrower assuming the only reason the human is treating them like an equal is because they think they're human? So they just dwell on it so much. At first they may feel smug, thinking that the human is stupid, but they realize they may have misjudged their own intelligence because why would a human just let a stranger who has been shrunk wander freely around their home?? So they've unwittingly committed themselves to be attached to the human until they can either find a good escape where they won't go looking for them, or until they admit what they really are.
As they spend time with the human they are less desperate for escape in some sense. The freedom from danger, the liberal amount of food, the comforts the human is willing to provide them... its nice. They miss their personal freedom, and keeping up this ruse is a bit exhausting since they aren't the most familiar with human culture.... but the human is ... nice.
They've grown a friendship with this human, and they want to be able to tell them the truth. They see how worried the human is about them... They've been freaking out about how to get ahold of their family, and how in the hell they're supposed to find a way to reverse it... and they do want their freedom of movement back... They make up their mind that they're going to tell the human but-
Theres a slip up.
Maybe they said something weird, maybe the human put together too many little clues, or maybe another borrower shows up. They panic. No no no no no. This was supposed to be on their terms. They can feel themselves hyperventalating. They don't even want to look at the human. This is at best humiliating, at worst... was the human angry?? they lied. they took advantage of their kindness. They feel a hand start to encircle them and they flinch out of it's grasp.
No.
No, of course they were angry. Why wouldn't they be??
"H-hey... are you okay?"
The words seem to stop all their thoughts. All they can feel is their heart pounding in their ears. They look up at the human... at their friend and see nothing but concern in their eyes.
It breaks them.
They sob into the hand. A mix of guilt and shame and relief and happiness. They're a mess. The human waits to ask questions but takes the new information in stride. Ehh, its not that much weirder than finding a shrunken person right?
That is.... until like... 4 hours later.
The borrower hears banging on the walls.
"Hey ! Uh.... How many times have you heard me being... um weird?"
The borrower can't help but laugh, knowing immediately what the human is talking about. They would constantly talk to themselves in weird little voices, make strange noises, sing to themselves... Hell, they did it to but its not like they had an audience.
"Um" they clear their throat, a little more reassured with a wall between them "... enough."
A resounding thud sends vibrations through the borrower's chambers as the human hits their head against the wall. The groan that follows has the borrower struggling to keep from laughing.
"Fuck you." They can hear their smile despite not seeing them.
This... this could work.
#Yo I can't help but go ham on anything that even smells vaguely like a prompt#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t community#g/t prompts#g/t shitpost#I LOVE BORROWER AU STUFF SOO MUCH AHHH#MIIIIIIGHT be throwing this in to finding strength cannon
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Continuing to lose my mind at work and thus rotate the Monsters in my brain like meat on a spit. Cuz while they don't go out for Kaiba's birthday, Jou does convince him to go out for Halloween, while dressed as, well, themselves.
content warnings: blood drinking, heavy petting, and some almost public sex, Jou blows Kaiba in the club bathroom instead
Read the full, expanded version on AO3
---
"How about that one?"
A set of claws delicately pricked as they clasped Seto's jaw and turned his head to the side. He didn't fight it and allowed the creature on his lap to guide his gaze to the person in question.
A woman—he gave her an unabashed once-over. She was blond, voluptuous, and dressed as a witch, clad head to toe in flirty black see-through lace. Their eyes met across the distance, and she returned a seductive smile.
Seto broke eye contact first, breaking the hold on his chin as he nipped at Katsuya's pierced earlobe. He sometimes wondered about them; how they and the other piercings, navel and nipples, didn't close when he healed so quickly and completely after Seto's feeding bites. A gentle breeze fanned over his neckline when the incubus' wings fluttered twice. It was a relief because even Seto found the club stuffy with this many bodies packed into the venue.
"If that's what strikes your fancy tonight," he replied and leaned back against the private booth.
Katsuya huffed, and his breath disturbed his bangs. The beginning of a pout tugged at his bottom lip. "Well, don't bitch at me later if you think the taste's rank."
Seto shrugged. Blood was blood. Variations in hormone levels adjusted the flavor to slight degrees, but the underlying taste was the same. He didn't enjoy feeding per se. Unless the blood came from the creature before him.
That was why he agreed to this outing. Katsuya had honored his wishes not to make an ordeal out of his birthday (other than the demon fucking him into his own mattress for hours with everything at his disposal—his cock, his fingers, his tail, his tongue). So he could humor the incubus's whims if that meant he could gorge on him later, accompanied by a third or not.
Tonight was Halloween—All Hallow's Eve—the one night of the year that creatures such as Katsuya could go out in public as themselves (more or less). The mortals would gawk but push aside any nagging feelings to slap him on the back and compliment his costume instead.
Katsuya was a vision squirming on Seto's lap, horns spiraling out of his golden hair, molten eyes that glowed in the club's dim lighting, bare-chested except for the leather harness he wore to trick the mortals into thinking the shrunken wings between his shoulder blades were an elaborate accessory. His tail, which protruded from a hole in his leather pants, was wedged between Seto's thighs. It twitched occasionally with barely managed mischief, thrusting against Seto's inseam every once in a while.
Was it wise? Probably not. But Katsuya loved playing with fire. As long as they didn't run into another demon or a high-ranking sorcerer, Katsuya was the most powerful being out on the town.
To know that and have the exquisite creature draped over him in public, seemingly at his beck and call, well, it made Seto feel every bit the vampire lord he was dressed as.
Katsuya was insistent, though, annoyingly so. "C'mon, there's gotta be someone that catches your attention here."
Seto's gaze remained fixed on his companion. "You know I don't like to play with my food."
Katsuya gave a saucy grin. "Unless it's me."
He rolled his eyes but agreed nonetheless. "Yes. Unless it's you."
Claws wound into Kaiba's hair, playing with the strands. No one was more surprised than him at how comfortable he'd grown with Katsuya's tactile manners. The demon always had his hands on Seto in some way when they were together. In public, in private—it didn't matter.
"Y'know, you could have practically anyone in this joint. They see how sexy and in control you look and they want you." Katsuya's wings shook as he laughed softly. "The mental daggers I've been getting from half the people here for hogging you all night."
"And the other half undoubtedly want to bend you over the nearest surface."
Hungry eyes followed Katsuya wherever he went, trained on his every move. He was magnetic like that.
Katsuya flicked his hair. "Naturally. But seriously, there's not a single tasty morsel you're interested in?"
No one could compare to the feast already straddling Seto's thighs.
As his answer, he threaded his fingers into his hair and rubbed the base of Katsuya's horn. The demon melted into the touch and not-so-subtly humped his lap. Seto's eyes were drawn automatically to the perfect stretch of his neck, which glistened with sweat and pulsed with rich blood. His gums ached. He longed to rip into his companion.
Katsuya's long eyelashes fluttered before he pitched forward, sinking his claws into Seto's shoulders. Something wet, the demon's forked tongue, flicked over the shell of his ear before he spoke. "But if you're already peckish, you can grab a bite now to tide you over."
Seto's eyebrows flew into his bangs. Sure, mortals were painfully unobservant, and most people around them were sloshed to the gills. But to feed in public was beyond brazen.
Hot fingers skated up Seto's neck to cradle the base of his skull. Katsuya must sense his hesitation. "It's fine," the incubus cooed. "As long as you make it fast and neat, I'll heal up before anyone notices. They'll think any blood's a part of the costume like everything else."
The reasoning was surprisingly sound. Everyone around them was too wrapped up in themselves and their own debaucheries. The club lights and music overwhelmed the senses. And the relative remoteness of their private booth, draped in velvety darkness, could hide a multitude of sins. They'd probably look like they were necking at worst.
Katsuya's musk, a combination of his sweat and the fragrant pheromones he released, wafted into Seto's nostrils. It made his mouth water. He tilted his head back, both to compose himself and catch the demon's fiendish gaze.
"You're a menace," he grumbled, snaking one hand around not to grope Katsuya's ass but to squeeze the base of his tail.
Katsuya squeaked. He was always caught off-guard when Seto teased that spot. You'd think an age-old sex demon wouldn't have such an obvious and flustered reaction. It was surprisingly adorable.
"Bite me, vampire-san," purred the tart once he recovered. When he ground against Seto, the growing bulge in his pants became obvious. "Show me a good time."
Unable to help himself, Seto hooked his index finger through the o-ring on Katsuya's collar and yanked. Shuddering, Katsuya threw his head back and arched his back.
Katsuya's thrumming pulse point called to him. He licked it and shivered. Shit, he could practically taste him already. A sip couldn't hurt. It certainly wouldn't hurt the incubus.
"Try not to cream yourself like a complete slut," he growled and bucked up into the other creature.
"Fuck, no promises," Katsuya moaned. What a gloriously obscene and breathy noise. Only Seto heard it above the club's thumping bass.
Slowly, he laved his tongue over Katsuya's skin, savoring this salty taste. When Katsuya writhed in a transparent attempt to egg him on, Seto squeezed his tail as a warning. Perhaps he should've guessed that it'd only make the incubus more desperate. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Careful, he had to be careful—treat Katsuya as if he was one of his human meals. Don't gore the demon even if he begged for it.
He released his eye teeth and sank them into Katsuya's flesh. As soon as he pierced skin, Katsuya moaned and rutted, causing Seto to bite harder than he intended. Several droplets escaped, but the rest of the hot, succulent blood flooded Seto's mouth. The mere act of sucking ripened Katsuya's blood. Its taste blossomed into spicy nectar.
He could taste it all—lust, exhilaration, power.
Heat bloomed in his chest, face, and groin. Drinking Katsuya's blood always felt like it was enough to jumpstart his dead heart again.
He sipped slowly. Any faster, any more and he risked intoxication.
"Fuck, I love your mouth," Katsuya babbled. "You're so good at sucking, baby. Want you to suck me everywhere. I can't wait to fuck your mouth later. Gonna cram my tail and dick and tongue down your throat and watch you take it."
A low growl rumbled in Seto's chest. He didn't want to release Katsuya yet, but he could already feel his head start to spin. He couldn't lose control. Reluctantly, he detached his fangs, sweeping his tongue over the incision repeatedly as the minor wound knit closed beneath it. He cleaned the stray droplets that dripped lower until Katsuya's skin was spotless.
This was the tidiest he'd ever managed to feed on Katsuya.
Before Seto could untangle how he felt about this development, Katsuya yanked his head back. A wet tongue snaked into Seto's mouth as the demon claimed him in a ferocious kiss. With the taste of Katsuya's blood lingering on his taste buds, the rest of Seto's body responded accordingly to the incubus's amorous attention. Trapped in his wool trousers, his cock stiffened. Katsuya shifted and lined their clothed erections together.
They both groaned into the other's mouth.
Seto broke away, and Katsuya whined in protest. The incubus's slitted pupils were dilated to the point where they were nearly rounded. Seto glanced down and smirked at the straining bulge in his crotch.
"Don't tell me you're ready to come in your pants already," he mocked.
Katsuya keened and tried to wiggle closer.
Seto wedged a hand between them, using his palm both to cup Katsuya's crotch and as a means to hold the demon at bay. "Maybe people will write your come-stained pants as part of the costume—a dirty, desperate slut."
"Seto," Katsuya moaned.
Fuck, his name almost undid him. He nearly ravaged the demon right there.
"Up. Restroom now," he ordered.
He knew his compulsions had no effect on the demon beyond exciting him. Katsuya jumped to his feet, grabbed Seto's hand, and yanked him up. Flashing a salacious grin, he folded his wings tight to his back and guided Seto's fingers into his back pocket.
Together, they weaved through the throng of swaying and dancing bodies, drawing the eyes of nearly everyone they passed. They must make an odd pair: Katsuya wore as little clothing as possible while Seto was swathed head to toe in a thick Victoria-era suit. The cape attached to his shoulder acted as a barrier against the lusty individuals who coveted Katsuya. Grasping hands like worshipers reaching for an idol swept across Katsuya's arms and shoulders, but Katsuya shrugged them off, paying them little attention other than the occasional flirtatious grin. Even if Seto didn't have his pinky firmly wedged in Katsuya's tight pocket, he would've never lost sight of him.
Katsuya shone bright enough to blind.
In the men's room, they glided straight past the urinals to the stall at the very back. Katsuya slammed the door shut, threw the lock into place, and boxed Seto against the door. Their mouths met halfway, and they kissed as Katsuya fumbled with Seto's trousers.
"Y'know, I know an invisibility spell or two," Katsuya muttered when he finally freed Seto's erection. "We don't even have to move. You could impale me on your cock for hours and no one'll notice a thing."
Seto groaned, but it was unclear if it was because of Katsuya's suggestion or how he stroked Seto's cock. Generally, public displays and exhibitionism didn't appeal to him. But Katsuya had a way of overriding his better sense. He rolled his hips into the warm fist as he found himself hissing, "I could warm my cock in your tight hole."
"My hole. My mouth. Take your pick." The incubus dropped to his knees and licked Seto from balls to glans with his long, slick tongue. "Mmmm, my turn to eat now. Thanks for the meal."
Growling, Seto grabbed him by both horns and yanked his mouth onto his aching cock. Katsuya swallowed him eagerly, peering up with hooded glowing eyes. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked. They could go as fast or as slow as desired. Seto could fuck him countless times and drink him dry.
The night belonged to them.
#fic: Two monsters walk into the club#yugioh#puppyshipping#violetshipping#kaijou#ygo#my wips#my fanfiction#hopefully a quick and tasty treat#trying to decide if I wanna bother expanding on this or just leave it as it is#uhhhh i'll get back to filling prompts again soon#🤞 that inspiration strikes soon
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The Love You Want: III, Part Seven
hehe <3
word count: 10,413
Ao3 version
Masterlist
Previous Part (six)
Fic under cut <3
The next morning, Vessel is fidgety, following behind II like a comically taller shadow, hand clutching his tightly like a lifeline as II feeds Elvira then goes to make breakfast. He barely meets III's eyes, and when he does, he looks away with a tiny flinch, never straying far from II's side. Elvira comes to linger at Vessel's side while he sits criss-cross on the floor near where her bowls are just outside the kitchen, and Vessel enjoys the feeling of her soft fur between his fingers as she purrs, tail wrapping around his wrist briefly before going back to flicking side to side happily.
Breakfast is a quiet affair as II and III eat and Vessel picks at the skin by his nails until they start bleeding. II forces him to stop, but Vessel only moves on to plucking at the bandages around his arms, beginning to slowly unravel them as he messes with the material. At the first sight of a scabbed over cut, III has had enough.
III frowns heavily, scooting their chair closer to Vessel and offering up a hand in invitation. Finally, Vessel pauses his ministrations, watching III intently, one pair of eyes on III, another on their unbandaged hand, and the last pair eyeing II nervously for guidance. There's guilt in all three pairs, fear and apprehension and III is desperate to know why.
It hurts to see Vessel like this. He's clearly pulling away to protect his heart from whatever damage he seems so sure is coming.
It scares III. Did they do something wrong? Is it something to do with what Vessel is going to tell him? What could it be that has Vessel so frightened of III's reaction?
Slowly, Vessel takes III's hand, and it is III who clasps their fingers together, making it so that Vessel cannot pick at either hand nor his scabs and bandages. Vessel traces over each end of III's fingernails with his available hand, moving to circling each joint in every finger and along every knuckle, before following a prominent vein up towards III's wrist.
III lets Vessel do as he pleases, genuinely unbothered as they continue to eat. II keeps glancing at Vessel in concern, Vessel's negative feelings never abating even as a bit of distraction clouds them.
All three of them remain seated at the table when they're finished, dishes set off to the unused end. It is silent, for a time, as Vessel only continues to play with III's fingers, not meeting anyone's eyes.
II finally breaks the silence softly, "Vessel, its okay. You need to tell them."
III looks away from II to watch Vessel again, watches as Vessel's shoulders hike up by his ears as he curls into himself to appear smaller. A bead of sweat slides down his temple, pupils shrunken.
Its harder to tell III than it was to tell II. Already, Vessel's throat is closing up again and he had been strangely proud of himself for trying so hard to get his voice back just for this conversation.
"I killed those who killed you." Vessel blurts, eyes wide with apprehension.
Vessel takes his hand away as the words leave his mouth. At the expression striking over III's pretty features as he processes what Vessel has said.
"You killed people?!" III exclaims, more in shock than anything, clenching his fists so tightly their nails dig into their palms painfully.
Vessel nods, not trusting himself to speak as he keeps one pair of eyes carefully attuned to every movement III's hands make. Secretly, he is terrified of what III's reaction might escalate to. The house shudders, vines beginning to crawl over themselves and along the floor, distressed.
III stands, and Vessel instinctively leans away, head bowed submissively. III turns to begin pacing by the table, and II watches as vacancy begins to settle into the red of Vessel's irises. He tries to share a warning look with III, but the other is too upset to notice.
"Shit, Vessel! Why would-" III starts, and he can feel his fingers start to itch, spreading slowly down his hands.
"Sleep... He told me you were in pain. That there was a way to rid you of it. If... If I killed them, you wouldn't experience anymore pain. They could never physically harm you ever again." Vessel's voice is quiet, so quiet, and his face is falling into a strange blankness that II knows he normally can't manage.
His concern only grows, but he isn't sure what to say to de-escalate the situation.
"You risked yourself for me! I would have lived with that pain in my body for the rest of eternity if it meant you didn't risk yourself!" III shouts, angry at the thought of what could've happened to Vessel and they wouldn't have known, wouldn't have been able to help until it was too late.
III was too fucking familiar with that sort of helplessness, that sort of hopelessness. He could picture it now, Vessel laying on some dingy alley floor as blow upon blow rains down on him, all alone because he didn't fucking tell them-
"What?" Vessel says, voice small and almost a squeak, numbness spreading through his body.
He's shaking, he knows. Can't stop the tremble in his frame. III's yelling reminds him of everyone Vessel has ever known, and it scares him. III's more outgoing personality is nothing compared to this.
"They fucking killed me and you go and take all three of them on by yourself! You didn't tell us where you went! You leave the car, you leave your phone. Your bond was so close to being completely inactive and radiating that fucking tranquility you put up when you're anything but calm it was like you'd turned the bond off anyway!" There are angry tears leaking down III's cheeks, only worsening when he sees how Vessel has shrunken in on himself, II trying desperately to take Vessel's hand from where it has an iron tight grip on one forearm, nails digging in so harshly more blood is welling up under the thin bandages.
"They could have fucking hurt you! Could've killed you too!" III shouts in frustration, running a hand through their hair.
"Three, honey-"
"It's alright, Two. Let him speak." Vessel says, gaze downcast and distant and II goes reluctantly silent.
Vessel tries to reassure III, "I have my powers from Sleep. I gave them no chance to harm me and I gave them exactly what they deserved."
III takes a deep breath to try and calm down enough to lower their volume, watching as their hands begin to lengthen, becoming spindly, the bones cracking then aching as they lengthen.
"Shit, shit, shit..." They mutter, trying to will them away even as his fingers morph into only three on each hand.
The soft little sound of III's socks, one tie dye rainbow and the other a neon green, is the only sound for a few minutes as III worries their lip between his teeth.
"If... If you'd have asked us, Vessel, I would have come with you." III states, stopping to turn and stare resolutely at Vessel who has frozen in his seat.
"You- Why?" Vessel asks, weak and shaky.
Vessel would never have asked it of them. He would never have risked them getting hurt. He was fully capable of that task alone, he... he didn't need to ask for help with it.
"So you did not go through something like that alone. So with my presence at your side, you could be reassured that I supported you in your decision, that I would not come to loathe you for it." III is quick to answer, and Vessel is struck by the realization that III knows Vessel better than he ever wanted.
"I would have went with you, too." II says, and Vessel is somehow just as surprised by this response. "I did say I was upset you wouldn't let me get a hit in. If faced with them, with the intention to kill, I may have hesitated. Maybe. But even now, with that bruising on your face, Three, I want to wring their fucking necks. The sight of your pretty face and how you cried would have flashed through my mind, as it is now, and I wouldn't have hesitated any longer."
III looks overwhelmed by this new knowledge. To know that not only did Vessel literally kill for them, but that II likely would have too, if given the chance. III wanted to be accepted, and Sleep has given him far more than that. He has given them people who cared enough about him to kill for him.
People often say they would kill for the ones they love. III had never put much stock in the saying. It seemed like pretty platitudes said more for charm than anything else. It lacked conviction, and III knows most meant the saying as an empty promise.
How fucked up does it make III in the head to be genuinely flattered by the thought that the two people he loves most in the world have, and would, literally kill for him?
Unable to find the proper words, III floods the bond with his love and his overwhelming appreciation. II sends down his own love, and it leaves a warm feeling bubbling in their chest. Vessel's bond, still so calm, is also radiating confusion. III wonders if Vessel recognizes what they sent down the bond, but realizes he probably doesn't.
III is going to tell Vessel he loves him today, no matter what. III can't handle waiting, can't handle another night passing by where Vessel hasn't at least heard from their mouths how completely and utterly they adore him.
"Won't people look for them?" III asks, continuing to pace back and forth, back and forth, wringing his hands together.
"Sleep said they'd erase them from memory and records." Vessel replies in a voice vacant of all emotion, keeping two sets of eyes on his lap, the last still trying to discreetly watch III's hands.
The calm projected over the bond is clearly forced, and both II and III hate how easy it is to tell right now that Vessel's tranquil bond is merely a facade.
"I still remember them." III starts, but then they pause in their pacing.
"The one that attacked me. I don't remember his face. Why do I suddenly not remember?" III's bond is a confusing mess of fury and frustration and heartache and so many things in between.
"His memory, you knowing of him, assaulting you again... it was beginning to unravel the magic Sleep cast over your memories of Before. It was causing you pain that would only worsen with time. I had to get rid of him, so your pain would cease and this would never happen again." Vessel explains wearily.
"Will the same thing happen to you both?" III asks, focusing on trying to get their hands back to normal as they sit down at the table once more, hiding the appendages under the table from II's view, to lessen the fear beginning to slink down his bond. "If we run into the people who killed you?"
Vessel's muscles tense up even as he nods, and he's glad for the calm he's been projecting over the bond. It hides the fear that stiffens his body, the flood of memories causing terror and the phantom pains and words he swears he can still hear from people Before.
Vessel would prefer to never see anyone from his past ever again.
"I don't think it will be a problem for me. I think the only reason you had such a problem, Three, is because you were so intimately familiar with the town we live near. With the people who killed you. You had the misfortune of already being near them." II says, a little unsure of his own words but feeling he may be right.
"We're no," Vessel's voice cracks on the emotions raging through him and he clears his throat, knowing his voice is leaving him again, its only a matter of time, "We're no longer near that town. Sleep moved this realm somewhere else in the country. For Three's sake."
"The realm was moved? Sleep has the power to do that?" II asks, and Vessel nods.
"Yes, apparently so."
"What about the bodies?" III questions, II listening attentively, not knowing the answer either.
"Sleep got rid of them." Vessel responds, lips thinning, pinched shut. "I offered them up as sacrifices. It is how He gained the power to move the realm."
III and II nod, accepting the answer. They do not ask more about it, and Vessel is glad. How was he to tell them their God's dripping maw opened up on his chest, the cavity filled with teeth and tar where his heart used to lay. How their God consumed the bodies, how a stray hand had somehow gone inside of Vessel, into the void his Gods jaw created?
"Do you regret it?" III asks, catching Vessel's gaze when he glances back up at them.
"... I did it to protect and avenge you." Vessel starts, fiddling with his fingers again, picking at the skin around his nails with sharp claws, unable to force his gaze away from III's intensity, "No. I- I do not regret it."
Vessel expects this to be it. For III to decide they want nothing to do with Vessel. Expects III to ask for him to be cast out, or to leave in his stead. Maybe this is when III will show Vessel that they are like everyone else Vessel knew Before. Vessel wonders which will hurt worse, his body afterwards, or his heart shattering with every hit.
He hopes II will let III get out the frustration he needs to. His second partner was always nicer afterwards, she'd even hold him sometimes after he inevitability started crying and just couldn't stop, long after the hits ceased. Vessel could never tell if it was from the pain or his heart crumbling to pieces in his chest.
Distantly, somewhere deep inside, far, far below his fear, Vessel doesn't truly think III would hurt him. It feels wrong to think they will, but... but Vessel can't help it.
As he told Sleep, anyone who has ever loved him has hurt him, and Sleep said the other vessels love him.
Vessel is quick to force distance between them, expecting the worst, knowing that III won't want Vessel anywhere near them soon. The chair makes an awful screeching noise as he shoves it over towards II, who rests a hand on his thigh in support.
"I'm sorry for yelling. I was upset. I- I still am. You could've gotten hurt, and... Taking a life is no small matter and you've done it three times in a day. For me, no less." III starts, taking in a deep, calming breath, staring down at their hands that have yet to go back to normal.
Vessel is confused by the apology. Why would III apologize for yelling? Vessel... he expected it. Prepared himself for it, even, though it did not frighten him any less.
III continues, "They were not good people. I complimented one of them and they killed me for it. I do not want to think of what they must have done in the past, what they could've done in the future to anyone who made the same mistake. They didn't hesitate to beat me to death. They laughed, joked over my dying body."
Vessel grimaces, the laughter and the jokes and the manic little grins they'd all had flashing behind his eyes, echoing in his ears. Glancing up at III at the fear slipping down the bond, Vessel realizes that III is experiencing it too, and by the way they wince, remembering the pain as well.
The guilt inside Vessel only grows. He was so close, and yet he could not help. Could not even hold III to him to comfort and protect, lack of heart in his chest be damned.
"People like that... They don't deserve my sympathy." III settles on, "So, while I'm upset, it's not with you. It's- In general. The entire situation is just... upsetting."
"I regret the loss of life." Vessel murmurs, clearing his throat when he realizes it was too quiet, repeating himself. "But ultimately I do not regret that it was their lives I took. Not for what they did to you. One said that there had been others before you."
"... I wasn't the only one?" III murmurs, upset at the thought, missing the alarmed look II sends Vessel, who nods slowly in sorrow.
III thinks of what was done to them. The pain, the terror, at the hands of those who murdered him. To find out that they were not the only ones who had suffered at those cruel hands... The motherfuckers deserved the end they got. They reaped what they'd sown.
Vessel doesn't know what to think when III stands, walking towards where Vessel had moved away. They lean down, one hand resting on the back of the chair just by Vessel's shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. The aborted motion of pulling away from an expected hit pulls Vessel away from III, who notices his wide eyes.
"Sorry, should have warned you." III apologizes when they see Vessel's reaction.
There's a tremble to Vessel's frame that wasn't noticeable a moment ago, and III does not miss the way one pair of Vessel's eyes is constantly tracking their hands. It fills III with such profound sadness to think of what Vessel must have been through, a small sting of hurt at Vessel thinking they would hurt him. Anger that there was a reason Vessel was afraid of something like that at all.
II and III share a concerned glance, moving back to Vessel who has remained still despite the tremble to his form. His arms have come to wrap around himself in an attempt at a hug, body tense in preparation for a blow.
II and III have had talks when Vessel isn't around, quiet whispers as they go over more and more signs of some sort of abuse. It's slow going, Vessel avoiding any subtle questions and hiding as many of his reactions as possible. Its tragic, when all they want is to be able to help him.
"Not your fault." Vessel mutters, one hand coming up to lightly touch where III's lips had been.
"Vessel, I need you to hear me say this. I need you to really listen." III begs, and Vessel barely manages to pull his gaze up from the ground, barely manages to let his hand fall to hold the other in front of him.
"I'm not going to hit you." III states firmly, hands deliberately loosely open at his sides, as they finally go back to normal.
Vessel startles, eyes going somehow wider in his shock, and his mouth opens as if to say something, anything to steer the conversation from wherever its heading.
"I don't give a fuck how angry I get, I will never hit you. I will never harm a single hair on your head."
"But... What if I do something wrong? Make a mistake? Upset you?" III's heart crumbles to pieces at the genuine confusion, at the way Vessel doesn't understand.
"Vessel, we're not going to agree on everything all the time. Its just not natural, nor healthy. Its good to disagree. And mistakes are common, everyone makes them. If you upset me, then we'll talk it out, figure out what we can do to make either one of us no longer upset. You do not deserve to be hit for any of that."
Vessel knows III doesn't get it. Neither one of them seem to understand that Vessel deserved to be hurt. He always spoke out of turn, could never be quiet when told. Was always too clingy, never enough. He couldn't do anything right. He deserves every bit of pain he received. Vessel couldn't fathom a world where that wasn't the truth.
"Okay." Vessel agrees unsurely, accepting even when he knows in his heart that III is wrong, one hand falling to hold II's tightly.
II and III know he doesn't understand, can see it on his face even as it leaks down the bond Vessel has left open. It no longer projects such disturbing calm, and it strikes III that he isn't really sure how Vessel does it.
"How do you project such calm over the bond, anyway? I don't understand it." III asks, curious even as he watches Vessel with sad eyes.
"Oh, I- Well, it's not the actual emotion. I just, its kind of like projecting an image. I send over a calm sea and it comes across as calm on your end. It's similar to how we can sort of push certain images or thoughts to get something close to a conversation."
"I see... Can you not," III lets out a small sigh, "Can you not do it anymore?"
"Not...? You don't want me to...?"
"No, sweetheart, we want to know how you're feeling, even if it's negative." II interjects, squeezing Vessel's hand gently as III pulls his chair closer to Vessel and II's.
"We want to know when you're upset so we can help. You wouldn't want one of us hiding from you if we were upset, would you?" III says, and Vessel shakes his head slowly.
"Well, no, but its different with you two." Vessel insists, begging them with his eyes to understand.
Vessel isn't worth it. Why don't they see that?
"Why is it different with us Vessel? What makes our feelings matter more than yours?" II asks, desperately, placing his other hand over Vessel's to sandwich the appendage between his.
Vessel needs to leave. He needs to escape, anything to get away from this conversation. He hates how much he's said already, hates how sad he has made the other two just by existing near them. Vessel hates that he can't seem to make them happy.
Vessel shakes his head, still trembling, pushing the chair back and going to stand. III puts their still morphed hand on Vessel's other thigh, and he stills, watching II and III warily. All six eyes are wide with panic, and he feels trapped. The plates start to float gently above the table, as II glances down at III's hand and flicks it back up to watch Vessel, resolutely not looking back down.
How is Vessel to explain to them that they mean the world to him? That he would lay the heavens to waste at their feet if only they'd ask? It was such a silly question. Of course their feelings meant more to him than his own. Their happiness was his, and he would not taint it with his own lack of self-worth and depression.
How is he to tell them that he was so desperate to be loved, he accepted an eternity with a God he barely knew who said he would grant him that wish. How is he to tell them that he hated himself so completely and utterly, couldn't imagine living another day, another second in this body and with this mind, that he tried and tried again to kill himself until he finally succeeded and only then was he wanted.
III takes Vessel's hand, stopping him from digging any deeper into his palms. Vessel looks up slowly as tears blur his vision. II's hand still rests gently on his thigh, tracing a pattern into the fabric. As II's warmth seeps through to Vessel's skin, he wonders if II can feel the never-ending tremble of Vessel's frame.
"Vessel, I love you." III states, and Vessel's whole world collapses as all six eyes focus completely on the pretty creature before him.
"I've never been in love, not really. Not when my love for you both feels like this. All consuming and complex and a little like my feet have been swept out from under me." III confesses when Vessel continues to not say anything.
Vessel's throat is tight and a sob steals his breath when II speaks from his other side, "I love you too, Vessel. I know you didn't believe me, when I told you. I need you to believe me now. I want to wake up beside you for as long as you'll let me. I want to kiss you, over and over and over again. I want to love you like you deserve, Vessel. I want to show you that your previous partners were all fools without a single loving bone in their bodies."
"We want to love you. Will you... Will you let us?" III tries not to beg, but the desperation taints his tone anyway.
"You can't. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve your love or your kindness, or how gentle you always are with me."
"Vessel, you deserve gentleness. You deserve love." II says softly, big, pretty blue eyes staring at Vessel with such blatant affection not even he can deny it.
"I ignored you on purpose!" Vessel blurts out, as though trying to convince them he doesn't deserve what they're offering, "I- I lied to you, Two. After you said you- after- when you said you loved me... that was really when I couldn't speak, I couldn't say anything even if I wanted to and it hurt when you were so kind to me even then. Why would you- why be kind to me?"
"Because you deserve to have kindness Vessel." II states softly, kneeling in front of him.
The knowledge that Vessel had ignored him at first, after II first confessed, hurts immensely, but if this is how Vessel is reacting now... How many people told Vessel they loved him with nothing but blackened hearts and filthy souls? How many people told Vessel they loved him, only to turn around and hurt him, body and mind?
"I don't feel like I do." He whispers, brokenly, and III hesitantly takes his available hand.
"We'll just have to keep being kind to you then, to show you that you deserve it. I've met many people whose faces I can't remember who don't deserve anything good, and you're not one of them." III states, firm as they wipe their own tears with the back of their hand.
"I don't know what its like to be loved with kindness. You've... Neither of you have ever hurt me. Why- Why haven't you hurt me? I deserve it! I've lied! I've hidden things from you! Even now, I-" Vessel barely stops himself from blurting out more of his secrets.
"Why would you want to love someone who doesn't love themselves? I don't deserve to be loved, not the way you two say you love me. I'm not worthy of it. I'll never be worthy of it. You can't love me, even if I want you to. You can't, please, I don't- I'm not worth it. I'm not worth it." Vessel sobs, golden tears staining his clothes as they drip relentlessly off his jaw, "I am ugly, I am flawed. I- I'm weak, I hurt myself. I am afraid."
Vessel continues trying to convince them that he is not worth their love, but that is not for him to decide. II finally has enough, crying too, and trying so desperately not to sob like Vessel is. The bonds are a mess of anguish, of Vessel's fright and such bone-deep self-loathing.
"Darling, I'm noticing your flaws and they're exactly what I want, even if you won't believe me. I love you, every part of you. Even the parts you consider ugly." II begs Vessel to believe him, to please, please just this once, believe him.
Vessel thinks back to what Sleep had said to him. Had urged him to do. To try and look beyond his past that chains him down, to see that they love him. Vessel still doesn't believe they do, but... if they're willing to at least pretend... Vessel is too selfish to deny them, deny II again, even if he knows it's only a matter of time before they realize how inadequate and ugly he truly is.
"You know I'll be yours, just want to be worth it." Vessel murmurs, finally, still sobbing quietly as he continues, "I've loved you both ever since I met you. You enraptured me, heart and soul. Paralyzed by my own will, I- I couldn't tell you. I knew neither of you returned my feelings. I knew... I knew you could never love me."
"You thought we would leave you, Sugar?" III asks gently, "Thought we would hurt you. You've just been trying to protect yourself from what you thought was inevitable. How many people have tore you down so thoroughly that you couldn't see how much we adore you?"
"Adore...?" Vessel murmurs, before what III had said before that sets in, "I- Every partner I've ever had. My parents. My peers. Everyone I have ever known. So many people hated me... There must've been reason to."
"There wasn't!" III snarls as II forces back a sob, "Not a single one of them were right in their treatment of you. You deserve the world and I will tell you that every day until you believe me!"
A fresh wave of tears spill over as Vessel's breaths come out in shorter and shorter pants. II smiles at him, and Vessel wishes it was clearer past the blur of his golden tears, because he can tell its a soft, watery thing as II cries, too.
Vessel wants to believe them, but he can't. If what III says is true, then why did Vessel have to suffer? Why him? He had to've done something wrong. Vessel couldn't fathom a reality where his entire existence up until that point, all that pain and suffering, wasn't a deserved punishment for something he had done.
II and III whisper gentle encouragements for Vessel to get his breathing under control, and its difficult. Difficult to think past his racing mind. Difficult to breathe past the gut wrenching sobs he manages to keep quiet even now. Vessel does eventually manage it, wiping his gold stained face of tears and snot, as silence passes between them for a moment. His bond loses the carefully curated calm, slipping away to reveal such aching self-loathing and a small bit of hope that flickers like a weak flame. II and III want to help, want to stifle that self-loathing and strengthen that flame of hope but how? How are they to help Vessel when he... Shit, when he doesn't even want to help himself?
II taps his fingers nervously to an unheard beat, seeming to think over something as the silence stretches on.
"Can I kiss you?" II asks, glancing from Vessel's eyes to his lips and back again. "I've been thinking about it for so long now."
Vessel smiles, and he tilts his head, a little shy, a little confused, even as he wants it, so desperately he feels he might burst at the seams with his need to know what II's lips on his feels like. "You're asking?"
"Of course I'm asking. If you don't want a kiss, then I won't kiss you." II affirms gently, struggling to keep the frown off his face, the sadness from the bond.
"You're asking- and I can say no?" The shyness is still there, but there is so much confusion stemming from Vessel's side of the bond that II wants to snap the neck of whoever did this to Vessel.
"You can always, always, say no. With me, or with II." III states firmly, needing to hold tighter to Vessel's hands in his own to stop the other man from picking at his self-harm scabs.
"My- my old partners didn't really- their rules were different."
"You had rules to follow? Like, in the bedroom?" III asks, desperate for clarification.
He begs Sleep for it really to be some sort of kinky BDSM situation but knows that with Vessel and his past, the chances are slim.
"No?" Vessel's voice has gotten smaller as he hunches into himself, that previous bit of shyness gone now, replaced with apprehension as the confusion remains. "I- I wasn't allowed to say no, with my third partner. She got me away from my second so I always just- did as she asked. Even if I didn't really want to. It was okay though because I loved her. She was nicer than my second and first. My other partners didn't ask either, were they supposed to?"
III immediately starts crying again as he nods furiously, unable to hold back the fat crystalline tears spilling down his cheeks as a large wave of misery floods the bond. Vessel panics, immediately pulling the slightly taller man into a side hug, "I-I'm sorry b- Three, I didn't mean to make you cry."
III shakes his head in refusal of the apology, taking II by the arm and shoving him a little closer.
"Can I have a kiss after Two?"
Vessel tilts his head hesitantly, turning it towards II as he asks, shyly but almost as though he doesn't think he should ask at all, "Does Two still want to kiss me?"
Nodding his head so fast III fears II'll break his neck, II leans forward, nose nearly touching Vessel's. He pauses, just before their lips would touch. He glances down at them, at the red, bitten and bleeding skin, and back up to Vessel's eyes, all six a little wide, a little excited. They're red as rubies, and filled with such anticipation II almost doesn't want to make him wait any longer.
"Are you sure?" II murmurs, and Vessel feels II's lips brush feather light against his own.
"Please." Vessel practically begs despite his better judgment, and II surges forward.
When II's lips meet Vessel's, he is swarmed by overwhelming affection. He cannot stop the grin that splits his face, that makes it difficult to continue kissing II even if that is all Vessel wants to do.
Gently, II's tongue brushes against Vessel's bottom lip, and Vessel eagerly opens it in invitation. II tastes like the tea he had for breakfast, floral and a little sweet, and the maple syrup of the pancakes Vessel watched him cook.
Vessel would never deny himself this, so long as II was willing. After getting this taste, Vessel doesn't think he would ever refuse II a kiss.
Hesitantly, Vessel opens his mouth a little wider, letting II's tongue explore his mouth with fascination. They're both careful of their respective fangs, even though Vessel purposefully nicks his tongue on one of II's little fangs, enjoying the sting.
Vessel has not let himself imagine anything truly romantic with II or III, but now that he has gotten the blessing of kissing one of them, he finds he wants more. So much more. He wants to sink his teeth into II and III and mark them as his. Vessel would love for them to do the same, to sink their own teeth into his skin and mark him as theirs. He hasn't felt this sort of possessiveness since his first partner, and the thought scares him, almost causes him to pull away from II prematurely.
II, feeling the small spike of fear down the bond, probes gently along the tether in question and Vessel shoves back reassurance when he feels II beginning to pull away. It causes II to relax further into the kiss, leaning into Vessel's space even more as he puts his weight on Vessel's thigh where their hands are clasped tightly.
"Can I have my kiss now? As hot as this is, it's my turn." III pouts lightheartedly, eyeing the both of them with arousal he has no intention to act upon.
Not yet, anyway. They'll need to figure things out with Vessel first, see where he stands on the sexual side of the relationship III is pretty sure they're all in now. The thought fills him with elation, and their leg begins to bounce as the anticipation rises.
II and Vessel are slow to pull away from each other, one of II's hand very lightly grazing Vessel's nape. Vessel's face feels flushed with heat, a little breathless as he pants with a grin so wide it hurts. II is much the same, and Vessel wonders what the other would look like with that same expression while on top of him. Longs to see such a sight with such deep desire Vessel is surprised at himself.
II pulls entirely away from Vessel as the taller man stares after him, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile, contentment and love pouring down the bond. III pulls his chair closer with a harsh sound against the flooring, grabbing Vessel's shoulders gently and pulling him to meet them. His kiss is quicker to head into full on making out, tongue swiping across Vessel's bottom lip immediately.
III tastes like too-sweet vanilla coffee, over eager as their teeth clack against Vessel's. Vessel continues grinning anyway, absolutely elated just as he was when he kissed II. III's presence and tongue consume every thought in Vessel's head, the chair creaking as III puts more weight into the back of it to lessen the space between them.
"If you're not careful, the chair will break from under him." II comments in amusement as the chair creaks harshly again.
"We'll just buy a new one." III says between kisses, staring at Vessel even as the other has his eyes closed.
III is obsessed with the way Vessel tastes, a little bit of iron like blood, a little like his coffee half finished on the table, vanilla and hazelnut from the copious amounts of creamer he put in. III just might have to try out their coffee that way sometime, just to see if it could compare to the taste of Vessel.
As much as Vessel would love nothing more than to kiss II and III, to watch them kiss each other, all day, for as long as they'll let him, there is a need building in the back of his mind.
It had been building under his skin ever since the first murder; the need to kill himself to grant his mind rest. His body did not rest, could not rest even in Sleep's realm, and his mind is suffering under the minor headache and the tremble that will not leave his frame. He intended to come home, to kill himself last night before either one of the others knew he had returned. He was going to rest in the only way he knew how, and then tell II and III what he had done in the morning. That plan had not come to pass.
It is better for Vessel to ask, to let them know he intends to turn the bond off, than to do it all of a sudden. At least, that's what Vessel tells himself. He needs to rest.
So Vessel pulls away first, disappointment mirrored on III's face. It only grows when Vessel speaks, "I'm going to go worship, to- to thank Sleep for bringing us together. For giving me the opportunity to take your pain away. I- Can- Can I turn my bond off, just until I'm done? I promise I'll turn it back on after. I'm sorry."
Guilty eyes plead with II and III who remain close, sat stiffly in their dining table chairs. Anxiety chases away any lingering peace from the moment they'd just had.
III bitterly turns away, not responding, but II nods slowly in acceptance. Vessel is near tears with his thankfulness, flooding the bond with it and his guilt and his apologies.
As Vessel escapes upstairs, what II says to his back as he goes almost causes Vessel to turn right back around, to keep the bond open and not worship today at all. "I love you, Vessel."
Vessel does pause, though, halfway up the staircase on the little landing before it continues up at a different angle, "I love you as well, Two. And you, Three."
With a bit of hesitation, Vessel sends a small amount of his large expanse of love down the bond. He does not wish to overwhelm them with it. It is met with care, gently cradled in the souls of the other vessels. They send back their own love, and its hard for Vessel to deny they do love him to some extent, now that he knows that is what it feels like. Its hard, but not impossible. Vessel knows it is only a matter of time before this infatuation fades, before they realize they love each other more than they love him. Vessel can see it clear as day. They love each other like he loves them. He thinks he can be happy if they find happiness together, even if that happiness does not include him. Already, they've given him so much more than he could ever have asked for. They've been so kind, more considerate than he deserves. Vessel loves them.
The altar room is cold, the candles unlit as he locks the door behind him. The sigil on the wall gleams in the darkness, his vision capturing the shine clearly. Under a loose floorboard by one of the walls, a knife sits. Vessel retrieves it, removing his hoodie and unstrapping his mask from his belt. Folding the hoodie and placing the mask on top with care, Vessel leaves it at his side. Unwrapping the bandages II did for him yesterday, Vessel hesitates to bring the knife to his wrist.
'My Vessel, returning so soon?' Black and red swirls in the offering plate as Vessel finally brings the blade to his skin, dragging it up the vein on his arm to speed along his death.
'Yes, my God.' Vessel replies as he watches the blood spill heavily from the wound.
Vessel does not think he has any right to ask for this, and yet he wonders if his God will grant the request.
'Speak, my First. Ask, and I will answer.'
'No, it is alright, my God. I will ask another time.' Vessel refutes, worrying his lower lip between a fang.
Another time. He will only ask if there is no other option. This is the last time Vessel intends to kill himself for the foreseeable future, so he knows it is only a matter of time before he buckles under the pressure.
Vessel offers up all of his blood to Sleep again, loving the sting and the numb cold spreading throughout his body. He dies with a rueful smile on his face, and Sleep takes care to fix his wounds while he lingers in a state of not-death. He wants them to truly love him so badly. He wants to let himself love them fully, without holding himself back, but Vessel fears his love is too much. He fears driving them away. Before death takes his mind, he is reliving every moment of II and III's lips on his, fanning that flame of hope in his soul despite his best efforts.
::
As Vessel's soul is cut off from theirs, as the void in their chests open with that sudden emptiness, II and III reach for each other. III's bond is still laced with bitter sadness, a twinge of fear that echoes II's own. It is not an easy thing, to feel that Vessel is dead when they know differently.
"I think we overwhelmed him. Did you see his face when he left?" III frowns, and II nods, brow furrowed.
II is the first to reach out, hands coming to rest tenderly on either side of III's face as he leans forward to plant a kiss on his lips, careful of the bruising already beginning to heal. Then another, and another, until the last one is deepened by III. They spend a few minutes like that, trading gentle kisses that range from chaste to deeper ones full of tongue and careful nips. It is II that pulls away first, wrapping III in a tight hug.
"Thank you." II breathes out, cheek pressed to III's chest.
"For what?" They ask, beginning to card a hand through II's hair as the other rests on II's hip.
"You've helped him. Helped me. More than you know. We needed you, and I'm so, so glad Sleep chose you. I love him so dearly. I was always someone who spoke their mind about these sorts of things, but no one else has made me feel the way he does. The way you do. The thought of messing up what we had scared me so badly. You helped us work past it. He's going to let us love him."
::
When Vessel wakes as if from a restless sleep, head resting in the empty offering plate, he feels... guilty. II and III's bonds are immediately open to him, though Vessel keeps his shut away for now. Just until he gathers his wits and leaves the altar room.
They had asked him not to shut his bond off. He had promised, and yet was too weak to keep that promise. They did not even get angry with him. They did not hit him or yell, but Vessel thinks their clear disappointment hurt far worse than anything else they could've done. Vessel has to keep it this time. He has gotten a taste of what their love could feel like, a taste of them, lingering on his tongue.
Vessel resolves to not kill himself anymore, just as he had promised. It is one he intends to keep, for as long as his resolve remains. If it means he bleeds more, then so be it. Vessel will simply have to be careful not to go too far. He has killed himself plenty now, he knows his limits.
Vessel stumbles out of the altar room, nursing a worse migraine than before as he goes searching for II and III. His bond opens, the tether snapping into place with the other souls linked to it, and Vessel feels whole again. He follows the tether and the gentle tugging from III's bond, finding II and III in II's room, laid out on his bed trading soft little kisses with the door open in invitation. Vessel is envious of their tender expressions, but it doesn't last long as III turns to look at Vessel, that same expression still gracing their features.
It doesn't falter or fall, only remains as it was when III was looking at II. "Sugar! Come lay with us awhile. Two and I were thinking of going downstairs to play some more NieR in a little while, if you want."
II's face is flushed as he looks up at III from below them, a little dazed looking, but his dopey smile is easily turned towards Vessel when III makes him aware that Vessel is there.
Their smiles widen when Vessel begins to make his way towards the bed, hovering at the edge of it unsurely. II sits up as III moves off of him, releasing the smaller man from the cage their arms had made.
II offers his hand to Vessel, who takes it and lets II pull him gently onto the bed. As he does so, III speaks, "I gave Two plenty of kisses after I managed to get him under me, can I give you some now?"
At Vessel's eager nod, III reaches forward and pulls Vessel close by the nape of his neck, careful not to let their fingers wrap around Vessel's throat. Another hand is slowly put on Vessel's shoulder, and Vessel lets III maneuver him to lay on the bed, watching in rapt attention as III straddles him. His skin feels alight with anticipation, a frown soon marring his features as III asks if he can cage Vessel in with their arms, like they did II. Unable to get any words out, Vessel grabs his phone in frustration. He knew this was coming, and he hates that he cannot speak to the only people he wants to hear his voice.
'Do not touch my neck, chest, or wrists. Anything else is fine.' Vessel types on his phone, wanting III to hurry up and kiss him.
Despite what Vessel said, as III leans over him, tall frame blocking out Vessel's view of the ceiling and his pretty blonde hair like a halo, he begins to feel nervousness creep under his skin. It fades somewhat as III leans down to kiss him, soft lips pressing against Vessel's, bitten and chapped. II's hand takes a hold of one of Vessel's at their sides, leaned up against his headboard as he watches his new lovers kiss tenderly. Just this morning, II was sure Vessel would reject them, was sure it was going to be far more difficult to convince Vessel that they loved him. Even now, II isn't sure Vessel believes them, knows it is likely going to be a long journey until he understands how they worship him.
II leans over so the angle doesn't strain Vessel's arm, pressing gentle kisses to his fingertips, hand clasped in his own with care. Affection swells up in Vessel's chest, so much he feels as though he will burst at the seams with it. He has never been kissed so reverently before, never with such gentle care. Unwillingly, his fingers tighten over II's hand, trying to pull him a little closer even as his breath is consistently stolen by III's lips.
III is relentless as he presses kiss after kiss to Vessel's lips, holding the kiss a little longer each time. At some point, Vessel's eyes slip closed, letting III do as he pleases as his nervousness slips away. There is a gentle press of lips to his forehead, over each closed eyelid, over both cheekbones and the tip of his nose. II holds Vessel's hand close to his face, pressing the back of Vessel's hand to his cheek, taking in his muscles losing their tension and the relaxed expression on his face with awe. II isn't sure he's ever seen Vessel completely relaxed, so unguarded like this. Its the closest II thinks they'll ever get to seeing what Vessel would look like at rest.
His messy hair is splayed out around him, pulled back into a half up, half down style that Vessel had asked II to do earlier that morning. It leaves his pointed ears on display, the stud piercings that sit in his lobes.
III pauses before they go in for another kiss on Vessel's mouth, intending to deepen it, "You're beautiful, Sugar."
Vessel's eyes blink open, and he smiles, a tiny, sad thing that speaks volumes of just what Vessel thinks of that statement. His free hand comes to rest over his chest, shaking his head, before he reaches up and gently places all five fingers, then his palm against III's chest, nodding his head. What Vessel is trying to say is clear. He doesn't think he's pretty at all, thinks III is the pretty one. II wishes he could show Vessel how he sees him, how utterly captivating he is.
One day, they'll manage to convince him of his beauty, no matter what. For now, they'll smother him in their love until he believes them in their surety of its existence.
"I love you Vessel." III murmurs against Vessel's lips, watching him closely in fascination.
Vessel smiles, pressing his lips back to III's in answer, trying to put his love into the kiss since his words have failed him. One long arm reaches put and pulls II to III's side as the other man fumbles to stay upright, a hand coming to III's shoulder. They're careful not to put too much weight on Vessel who still lays below them, six eyes half-lidded and face flushed.
"Just because I'm shorter doesn't mean you get to boss me around in bed, sweetheart." II says, using his superior strength to shove III over.
He lets out an oomph as they land beside Vessel, laughing along with II who follows them, placing short kisses on III's mouth. Now that they've all had a taste, they can't seem to get enough of kissing one another. Not that any of them are complaining; far, far from it, actually.
"It is a crime I can't kiss the both of you at once." II frowns, hovering on his knees between the other two's prone bodies.
"It's a good thing I like to watch, then. Watch you both kiss, that is. Among other things." III smirks slyly, batting his pretty eyelashes up at II.
Vessel's hands have come to rest on his stomach, a surprised, quiet snort of a laugh leaving him.
"While I can't say I'm surprised, those other things can wait until we've had a proper conversation about sex, sweetheart."
"We could have the conversation right no-"
"I'd prefer to wait a bit." II glances down at Vessel with a tender look, "After we figure out what we all are to each other, and how we're going to navigate whatever this is. I'd like us to settle into the relationship first." II waves between all three of them.
"Oh, thank Sleep you brought it up, I was losing my mind wondering. Are we all dating?" III asks, sitting up on an elbow, brushing a strand of hair behind their ear.
"I would like us to be."
Vessel sits up enough to grab his phone again from where it had fallen somewhere beside him, and the others wait patiently for him to type out what he wants to say. 'Allthreeof us?'
"Yes, Ves. Have you never heard of polyamory?" II says, a brow raising in question, not intending to come across as demeaning but feeling a little like he did anyway.
'I have.' Vessel starts, typing something out and then backspacing as his bond shrinks away like he is trying to minimize its presence, as he clearly tries to hide without projecting calm when that isn't what he is feeling.
III is glad Vessel is trying, at least. Glad that Vessel listened to him, even if it seems they couldn't quite get through to him about closing the bond off entirely.
Vessel does not turn the phone around, only let's his hands fall to rest in his lap as he scoots back against the headboard, a claw very gently tapping against the back casing in anxiety. II and III share a confused glance before III speaks, "Well, I would prefer the term partner, but boyfriend is fine, too."
Vessel is confused. None of his past relationships started off this way. There was no clarification for sex or terms or if they were even dating. If Vessel was kissed, and did not refuse another, then his past partners always just assumed they were dating. There was no asking if Vessel wanted it, too. It wasn't like Vessel minded, at the time. He was in love with his past partners, happy to go along with whatever they wanted as long as they'd stay with him.
He is confused, though when is he not, when it comes to the other vessels. II refused III's offer to talk over the sexual aspect of their relationship, saving it for a later time. Vessel didn't realize that was an option. He was prepared to go along with anything the other two wanted, happy to receive anything they would give him. He didn't realize that they were going to talk over the sexual aspect of the relationship at all. It fills him with anxiety, as he knows he'll need to keep his mouth shut and keep the things he likes to himself so they'll be pleased with him.
"Ves? Are you okay?" II asks, when he notices Vessel has stopped contributing to the conversation, has seemed to stop listening entirely.
Vessel cannot stop the looping words in his mind, even as he smiles at II shakily, nodding.
'Of course a little freak like you would be into that. Keep your mutilation bullshit to yourself. Do it again, and the next hit will be worse.'
Vessel learned to keep his thoughts of sex to himself, learned to let them do whatever they wished. Sex was not something Vessel had much care for, after his first partner. The time after him, with his second and third, was not much different. Vessel expects sex with II and III to be no different, despite their clear differences to his past partners.
'Boyfriend or partner is fine with me.' Vessel types, hands shaking as he holds the phone up for them to see.
"Okay, those're fine with me as well." II says, taking note of Vessel's tremble, grabbing his free hand to rub soothingly over his knuckles.
"Can I kiss you, Doll?" III blurts, already leaning forward from where he had sat up next to Vessel.
II smiles, leaning forward to meet III's lips happily. "You don't need to ask me, honey, I'm always available for your kisses. Unless I'm behind my drum set."
"I'm setting a good example for Vessel's sake." III pouts, and II kisses it off of them with a smile.
Eager as he is to watch them kiss, to watch as II's blush spreads over his exposed shoulders due to his tank top, Vessel wishes to do something else.
He taps III's thigh, holding his phone out for them to look at when they manage to pull away from II. His smile is bright, and it only widens when they read what Vessel has written.
"Doll, Vessel wants to head downstairs to play more NieR. I can't refuse him, look at how pretty our boyfriend is, asking so nicely." III urges with a cheeky smirk, and II turns to look at Vessel with a smile of his own.
"He is a very, very pretty boyfriend, isn't he?" II smirks as well, eyes raking down Vessel's form.
Vessel flushes with heat at their words, red spreading from his cheeks to his ears. He scrambles to get up from the bed so he doesn't have to respond, bond filled with shy embarrassment as II and III giggle good naturedly from behind him.
Vessel... is glad to realize that they are not laughing at him, not in a cruel way. His embarrassment does not stem from shame, only bashfulness at their words and he knows that. Not long ago, it feels like, Vessel would have felt as though they were laughing at him out of cruelty.
II and III meet Vessel down in the living room, finding him already swathed under a large blanket that he opens up in offering as II sits beside him. III turns pretty, begging blue eyes on Vessel when he sees that he can't sit between both Vessel and II, and Vessel can't help his amusement as he scoots over, away from II, so that there is space between them.
II gets up quickly and speeds off to the kitchen, returning with cold drinks. III snatches up the Mountain Dew with haste, cracking open the top and taking a sip as the PlayStation starts up.
"Would you like to play this time?" III asks, controller held up in offering.
Hesitantly, before Vessel can overthink it too much, he nods. He dies, repeatedly, and constantly clicks the button for a different action than he wanted, but as he learns the controls, Vessel finds more and more enjoyment in the game. His six eyes can track different things all at once, allowing him to notice enemies before they hit him, though it doesn't make his fingers any better at clicking the correct buttons. Taking in the sights of the game is easier, too, able to keep an eye on his character, the scenery, and any enemies.
'Can I turn the sound effects down a little bit, so I can hear the music better?' Vessel asks after just dying for the umpteenth time to a difficult boss.
"Of course, and can you turn subtitles on? I keep forgetting to." Vessel is already nodding in agreement, bottom set of eyes looking down at the controller to make sure he pushes the right button.
They sit like that until well past midnight, II's head in III's lap as he snores under an extra blanket, one hand clutching III's thigh. III leans heavily on Vessel, too, more and more as the night wears on. Changing positions as his back protests, Vessel leans back into the cushions from where he had been sat forward with his elbows on his knees. III follows, leaning their head on Vessel's shoulder, blinking slowly yet fighting valiantly to stay awake.
Vessel pauses the game after III's head slips off his shoulder for the umpteenth time, III jerking awake and righting their head only to repeat again a few seconds later.
"Oh, you've started ending B." III murmurs, already beginning to nod off again.
A very gentle jostling at his shoulder causes III to look up, finding Vessel's dim phone screen awaiting them.
'Go on to bed.'
"No, I'm okay. I'll just stay here with you and Two. You should start a new game, so you can play all on your own without worrying about us. Then we can take turns on this save file." III replies, shuffling around on the couch to get more comfortable.
'You'll be sore in the morning when you wake.' Vessel argues, but III only blinks blearily at the phone screen before shaking their head in refusal.
They shift II carefully to be more in their lap as they lean towards Vessel again, and Vessel does not move away, only let's III use him as a pillow while they settle down to actually get some rest.
"Goodnight Sugar, I love you."
Vessel brushes a gentle hand over III's hair in answer, unable to speak still but needing to respond to III somehow.
What is Vessel to do with those two?
After making sure II and III remain asleep and unaware, Vessel snaps a photo of them laid together. He settles in under the blanket for a long night, starting up a new save file on the easiest difficulty. It can't hurt to play every difficulty available, just to challenge himself.
#sleep token#vessel sleep token#ii sleep token#sleep token fic#sleep token iii#polyvessels#poly sleep token#fanfic#sleep token fanfiction
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Following flower petals
Following flower petals.
Original nightmare and Dream by jokublog jokublog
Greekgods au by me
Synopsis: after being recently taken from his home, the young god of joy and spring attempts to find his escape.
Enjoy;)
The flower ran.
He ran, and he ran and he ran.
Robes flowed behind him as his feet beat the path, catching and ripping on rocks and jagged stones. Gnarled and dead tree routs hung above his head like rotten chandler's, each begging for a touch of life. Time he did not have.
It's hard to say how long the flower ran, crossing over the climate at fast as he could possibly go.
One river burned his bare feet, the next plunged his bones into water colder than ice, still, it didn't slow him long. This landscape was unforgiving and never-ending, no cavern wall was ever in view, but there had to be one eventually. This place had to have an exit.
He'd heard stories of people escaping the place, and how hard it was to reach the borders of the kingdom, and this fueled his determination.
The ground was cold now, a grey sharp grass was under his feet, the feeling of it sending memories of his home to the forefront of his mind. He wouldn't let the false plants fool him, there was not a drop of life in any leaf.
Dead.
He hated it here.
He was determined to get back to green lush fields, nothing would stop him for as long as he lived.
His immortal life had been a short one by God standards, but he'd spent all of it under the close care of his mother, Nim.
He'd spent his life in a beautiful and thriving fruit orchard. His childhood was spent running around harvesting apples of all colours from the trees, his mother telling him about the different kinds he found.
A charming life for a child.
"....."
But now? If his mother left his side for a second a nymph was watching his every step like a hawk. Each mouth of food and every sip of water was all monitored and tailored.
Who would have known that the first time he finally got away from one prison he'd be traded straight for another? Yet he'd take the garden over the underworld any day.
He was not just going to sit and look pretty and wait to be rescued, he was going to get free. Perhaps this was his chance to prove to his mother that he could look after himself!
He would earn his respect.
He would-
Something grabbed his foot.
It hadn't been a strong grab by any means, but the suddenness had startled the young god enough to send him falling flat on his face.
Quickly he turned to his back and was met with the sight of a shrunken face. One who had perhaps been a rabbit monster in life, but now's ears were hung loosely by their face, framing the sunken eyes and deadpan look. They were on their knees, their hand now gripped harshly on the god's leg. Their airless lungs rattled as they hissed an incoherent whisper.
Dream yelped and shifted fast, fighting to wrench his foot from the monster's grip to no avail.
Much to the horror of Dream, there appeared to be more around, each dressed in dark black and slowly making their way through the grey field towards him. Not one of them said a word, dry breathing filled the air.
Dream kicked, finally freeing his foot, but finding himself swarmed by grey-faced beings, closing in like wolves on a baby deer.
A vine sprang from the dry earth and wrapped around the feet of one, a humanoid, pulling them back. Another was slashed through the middle with a thorned version. More tripped on roots Dream drew up but each seemingly didn't notice any wounds or feel any pain, all got back up and continued approaching.
Dream's head felt woozy, the force of using natural powers in the land of the dead draining each sap of energy, his roots and vines quickly withering as fast as he summoned them.
These creatures were unrelenting and unstoppable. One grabbed his golden scarf and pulled, another went for his crown. The young god screamed as the last of his energy was zapped, and was just about to start using his hands to fight them off, when a voice came from the side.
"ελευθερώστε τον!"
The creatures didn't hesitate upon the command, each leaving fast as mice found in a kitchen cupboard.
The golden-eyed god had ragged breath, shock was just starting to settle in as he tried to calm the beating of his soul. He lay on his back and took deep breaths. For a moment he didn't register the voice that had saved him, and could only let out and breathy "thank you..." Before a familiar "You're welcome my sweet flower" sent his soul into a pit.
Shoot.
His eyes looked up and landed on the figure standing over him. Hooded in a velvet cloak of deep purple, and deep robes of a similar colour, the Lord of the dead was an intimidating sight. Whispy, smokey tentacles flicked like flames behind his back, and golden accents clinked together as he moved.
He was one of the most powerful and feared gods, a very aura of darkness followed his footsteps. However, Dream had never been afraid of him for a second, and he never would be.
He stood over Dream and simply looked him up and down, scanning for any injuries that would merit concern, not that he expected any but he'd always want to check. After seeing none other than a few scuffs and maybe some forming bruises he spoke.
"Made it as far as the fields of asphodel my love....that's further than last time, good for you".
The darker god tilted his hooded head up, showing off his handsome purple eyes. At first, his face was neutral, but a smirk of amusement cut across his face as he stared at the young god.
"As much as I do enjoy our little games of tag, my dear, it would be best you don't bother my souls next time"
"They didn't mean you harm...they just don't get much entertainment in here"
Dream glared. His eyes were as bright as fire pits, and oh how Nightmare loved the sight of them. For a moment he was entranced by the beauty of his husband to be, and desire licked at his soul. Such a stubborn and precious treasure, the most delicate flower with the sharpest thorns.
This was the fourth time he'd attempted an escape in the 3 weeks he'd been down here, and each time he found himself in some kind of trouble. If Nightmare hadn't known better he'd have said Dream was doing it on purpose so that he'd need to be rescued.
"Now you don't appear to be hurt Sunbloom, but is there anything I can do for you?"
"Go. To. Taurus." Dream basic spat, hugging his scarf closer to himself.
Again his captor simply smiled.
"Live next door to it Honeysuckle"
Dream hissed through his teeth.
"Now why so angry? After I just saved you don't I get even a little smile?" Night asked.
The golden skeleton made a show of folding his arms and deepening his frown.
The Lord of the dead sighed and lowered his hood carefully, his expression softer, and voice gentler.
"My dear... I have no issue with you exploring, but please do try to be careful"
"I don't want to see you hurt"
Dream still said nothing and refused to look at him.
".....Dream..."
He said, again attempting to get Dream to understand.
"I love you with all my soul, all I want is a chance to prove that to you..."
Nightmare knelt before Dream and held his hand out to help him to his feet, his expression still gentle, and his eyes were softly mesmerising.
"....."
The young God raised his hand, but as he reached Night's, he slapped it away.
"Never"
"You are unlovable"
Ouch.
Nightmare recoiled.
Even Dream could see that was a low hit. In truth, he hated making anyone unhappy, even Nightmare. In the past, he'd seen him from a distance and always felt sorry seeing him alone.
His mother had told him as a child to stay far away from the dark King, and as such, they had never interacted, but back then he'd always been curious. The other gods all gave Night a wide birth and hardly spoke to him. Dream had always used to wonder why...
However just because he knew Nightmare was lonely, didn't mean Dream had to give himself over.
Right now he would try anything to make Night release him.
But it was proving to be hard.
No matter how many times Dream insulted him, no matter how many meals were thrown to the floor when Dream refused to eat, no matter how many times Dream tried to escape, Nightmare was still adamant that he loved him.
Dream needed to make sure Night knew the love would never be returned.
"Fine, as you wish"
"But for now it's best we go back home"
Dream got to his feet, too tired to argue anymore, the idea of the warm and soft sheets of his private room was now extremely appealing. Though that didn't mean he was about to give up!
As he wrapped his scarf around his skull again, he made sure to look around where he was, see every possible path out. The beings here weren't actually hostile, just bored as Night said. So long as he was careful and more strategic next time there was no way Night would need to come after him. He'd never see his next escape coming!
"Oh, and the next time you wanna play tag, Make sure to avoid Sisyphus and his bolder please, I'd hate to have to save you again"
The amusement dripping his off every word was infuriating.
Dream felt a gold blush tinge his cheeks along with the strongest desire to strike him with a vine whip. If it wasn't for the fact his body was drained from the earlier panic, he wouldn't have hesitated in doing so.
"Oh you!!!" He poked his tongue out "go away!"
Nightmare winked at him, adding more golden warmth across Dream's face. The god stomped ahead of Nightmare not wanting to look at him a second longer.
Nightmare was tracking close behind him, but that didn't mean Dream had to actually acknowledge him.
Night didn't speak to Dream either, he simply walked a few paces behind, directing Dream which way to go on occasion.
Guilt licked him and flickered at his feet like fire. He tried to suppress it, but it was hard to ignore.
Dream wanted out, but that was normal for the early days, right?
"......"
He'd settle down...
But in part, the idea of that made Night feel ill.
He knew it was wrong what he was doing, but deep inside a voice told him Dream would thank him for it one day. His mind didn't really believe that, but his soul continued to insist on it.
It was a constant back and forth, but at the moment, the idea of letting Dream go was more painful than he could bear.
Was it so wrong that he wanted to love him? Was it so wrong that he wanted to protect him from the slimy hands of the gods with worse self-control? Was it so bad he wanted to be happy...
"......"
He sighed and pulled his hood back up.
Yes...it was.
He was selfish.
"...."
But for now, he'd allow himself to be selfish. If the other gods could be, then why not him...
"....."
Dream thought that each time he slipped out of the castle, he'd been hyper sneaky and clever, but it was never more than a few minutes later that Nightmare would be aware of his leaving. A trail of small sprouts and flower petals was always left behind his feet, slowly dying in the empty ground. An easy path to follow.
Night hadn't been lying when he said he didn't mind Dream exploring. If the underworld was to be Dream's kingdom someday, he would give his love complete freedom to run around there, so long as he didn't get in trouble.
It always made Dream so happy when he felt like he'd been sneaky too... he was just adorable...
Again Nightmare swallowed his guilt and buried it with a reminder that he would treat Dream well. He would be a good husband if Dream decided to agree to it.
Perhaps Dream would never love him, but he would do everything in his power to make sure he was comfortable and safe.
And that was more than some others would...
"....."
"Dream...I love you..."
"....."
The other god said nothing, not that Nightmare expected him to.
He never should have listened to Ink...
The two returned to the castle in silence.
#undertale au#my art#shipping#undertale multiverse#sansest#sanscest#dreammare#greek gods#greek gods au#greek au#greektale#dream x nightmare#nightmare x dream#hades and persephone#hades and persephone dreammare#wanted to do something different#sure now they love eachother deeply and are the ultimate power couple#but it was a rocky start heh
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#shrinkyourboyfriend - Social Media Giantess prologue
Sylvia sat on the bed, fiddling with her phone while Thomas, a childhood friend, awkwardly stood in front of her. The guy was leaning on the wall, stealing some glances at her curves while wondering why in the world she invited him to her room all of a sudden after years of barely talking to each other.
He wasn't straightforward enough to ask her that, so he went for a more neutral question. "Umm... what are you watching?" he asked, noticing the girl was playing a video.
"Oh, this?" she replied. “It's a new trend. Haven't you seen it?”
Thom quickly recognized it - it was an annoying fad that had become popular since shrinking toys were mass-produced. On the internet, they usually were tagged "shrink-your-boyfriend", videos in which girls used their shrink rays to reduce their boyfriends to various sizes and have them perform the most ridiculous tasks - or in a lot of cases, have them being subjected to their whims.
In the video Sylvia was playing, a girl playfully opened her mouth and rolled out her tongue, revealing a one-inch tall man standing on top of it.
In the next video from the playlist, a young man was hanging by the back pocket of his girlfriend's tight jean shorts, leaving Thom wondering if the point of the video was to participate in the shrinking boyfriend trend or just to showcase the girl's beautiful ass.
"So," asked Sylvia, taking her phone back from Thom. "What do you think?"
"Heh," Thom dryly responded. "Seems like another useless trend."
Sylvia appeared disappointed. "Of course you would say that," she complained.
"Why, do you like them?" Thom inquired.
"I think they're fun-" Sylvia said. "But mostly, I see this trend as an opportunity."
"An opportunity?" Thom repeated, his curiosity piqued.
"An opportunity for me to gain more followers!" Sylvia declared, grinning.
Thom sighed. He knew that Sylvia was really into social media lately, so this came as no surprise. "So you plan on joining this trend then," Thom said. "Good for you."
"Thanks. But in my vision, you’ll be part of it as well."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, hello? What do you think? The trend is about shrinking guys... it's obvious that I would be shrinking you, isn’t it?"
"But I'm not your boyfriend," Thom coyly said, still trying to decide if he should have been happy with where this conversation was going.
"Sheesh Thom, thanks for telling me!" Sylvia exclaimed sarcastically. “Nobody will care or know. Besides, how am I supposed to participate in this trend when I'm single? What matters is that I shrink you and we do neat things in front of the camera - together."
"Fair enough but... I don't want to sound greedy or anything, but what exactly do I get out of this?" was his perplexed answer.
Sylvia sighed, rolling her eyes. "Popularity, Thom. A lot of people will watch our videos!"
"I'm not sure I want to be popular for being turned into a shrunken man, though," he reasoned.
"How about being popular for being in a video with me?" winked Sylvia.
"That's hardly better..."
The brunette shook her head. "Fine, fine," she concluded. "I just wanted to make my own version of this, but if you don’t feel like helping, I guess I could find plenty of guys who would love to do this with me...” She showed Thom a clip where a busty girl dropped an inch-sized man right in the center of her breasts, the miniature man helplessly disappearing in the middle of her cleavage line. When the video ended, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at his friend’s own cleavage: Sylvia was just as well-endowed as the girl in the video, so she certainly could pull the same trick off.
Flustered by the prospect, Thom was rapidly changing his tune. "Well I never said I wasn't going to do it,” he declared.
Sylvia grinned, satisfied with how easy it had been to manipulate her friend. "So you accept?"
"Yeah,” he conceded, “but… don’t get the wrong idea, I’m only doing this because I feel like helping you.”
"Yay!" Sylvia squealed, and quickly started typing something on her phone. "I sent you a shrink request," she explained. "You're going to give me permission to control your size for the next five hours."
"Five hours? Do we really need all that time to make a bunch of clips?” he asked.
Sylvia shrugged. “Just a precaution to be on the safe side. If we’re done before that time, I can always restore you.”
“Guess I won’t be home for dinner then…” Thom thought aloud.
“We can always share mine,” Sylvia giggled. “At the size you’re going to be you will be full just from my crumbs.”
“Huh," Thom said, clicking on the new notification on his phone screen. He accepted, though he almost instantly felt like he was going to regret this.
Sylvia was already pointing the shrinking device at him. "Hey, couldn't we think this through a little..."
"Silly boy," Sylvia teased him. "You've already given permission," and she pushed the button on the device.
"Wait - how small am I going...”
"You'll see-" she interrupted him.
When Thom felt a tingling sensation all over his body, fear started striking him and he cursed himself for accepting. What if shrinking caused some strange side effects? What if he was going to get hurt while he was small? But it was too late to back down then, and it was certainly too late once he saw the bedroom becoming larger and larger…
Sylvia’s gaze was glued on the tiny man who was dwindling in real-time in front of her eyes. In a matter of seconds, he was already a head shorter than she was, and the shrinking continued. She squealed as she watched Thom becoming shorter and shorter, until she had to bend down to take a good look at him.
“It’s working!” she announced to the now two-feet-tall man.
“Yeah, I can see that!” sarcastically remarked Thom. Becoming shorter than Sylvia felt uncanny already, but now he was rapidly reaching into less-than-human sizes. The brunette watched with glee as he lost more of his height, until he was no taller than three inches.
“Huh?” she said. He was keeping shrinking, even when the process should have stopped already. She looked at her phone screen to realize her mistake. “God I’m silly,” she giggled. “I wrote 0,3 inches instead of 3 inches in the size box.”
“What?” said Thom, way past the point of being able to speak loud enough to be heard by a giant Sylvia.
“Sorry Thom,” she said as she stepped in front of him, dropping to her knees on the ground. Thom’s vision was now dominated by her bare knees, her skin visible through the cuts in her ripped jeans, while her cruise ship-sized sneakers followed just some centimeters behind. “My bad.”
Sylvia licked the tip of her fingertip and she placed it on top of the minuscule boy, who was instantly plastered to the girl’s wet skin.
Full story:
www.amazon.com/dp/B0CPZNSCCL
books2read.com/u/3y6Qqn
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OUTSIDER (4) || Rabastan Lestrange WTM
Series Synopsis: When the truth comes out about the future inside the walls of Hogwarts, on the first night back in 1977, what will happen for those involved with the chaos that ensued?
Secrets outed, Lies revealed and true intentions determined.
Pairing: Rabastan Lestrange x Fem!Regulus Black
Notes: Starting the movies, letters, secrets
𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑, Hogwarts magic swirled around the corridors obviously pleased by what would happen that day.
The first years were baffled by their first morning feast at the magical school, a variety of breakfast foods donned the wooden tables waiting to be placed on the golden plates placed in front of every seat. The tables were extended slightly to accommodate to the visiting guests who were seated with their families, tucking into the buffet of food.
Once everyone had finished eating the Great Hall seemed more lively compared to the sluggish movements beforehand, the tables were cleared thanks to the help of Hogwarts' house elves.
Dumbledore set of a small bunch of colourful fireworks from his wand to gain the attention of the hall, "If I could have your attention please-" The headmaster started "Thank you, now why don't we change the seating arrangements to something more comfortable, if the seventh years could help with the Transfiguration process that would be greatly appreciated."
Once the head of the school had finished his announcement the Professors, Visitors and seventh years pointed their wands and the benches, willing them to become separated and more plush, visualising the couches they have in their common rooms, the benches soon became yellow, blue, red and green sofas.
The future generation made their way to the front of the hall, huddling around the shrunken television Hermione had pulled from the pocket of her pink, sip-up hoodie. Draco pulled his wand out, returning the T.V to its original size before charming it to float in the air, using another growing charm so the screen was big enough for the whole hall to see.
Daphne summoned her dragonhide handbag, delicately digging around in it and soon pulling out a single package, that looked about the same size as a first year reading level book.
She opened the case handing a circular disk that was inside to the brunette girl, said girl muttering a small thank you before slotting the blue, swirling disk into a bigger box that was apparently called a DVD Player.
The group returned to their seats between their family members, Atlas slotting between Regulus, who held onto his had, and Rabastan, who slung his arm over the boys shoulder.
The screen soon lit up the dark hall, the date...
December 31st 1979:
The screen panned to a dark oak desk, three sealed envelopes laid out in a line with two neatly written initials inked on the front, a feminine hand with the nails painted black clutched onto an expensive looking quill, it soon moved after finishing the last name.
'Sirius Orion Black'
Heads turned to said boy wandering who was writing to the dramatic boy and why it was so important to be shown.
"Who would be writing to you pads?" James Potter asked his brother in all but blood quietly. Sirius just shrugged intrigue shining in his eyes, everyone turned back to the screen, exited to see what would be shown next.
The sound of a chair scraping on wood slated floor sounded from the screen, the image followed the heel-booted feet of the woman following her down the stairs and to an extravagant but dark dining room.
The screen rose showing the people inside, older versions Walburga and Orion black were seated at ether end of the marble topped table, plated filled with a moderate amount of food. An eighteen year old Regulus Black was shown taking her own seat near her father.
People turned to look at the girl, the woman on screen looked more mature even if it was just two years into the future.
"Look at little Reggie all grown up" The sound of Bellatrix's coo filled the hall.
Regulus sighed "Thanks Trixie." she humoured her slightly unhinged cousin.
"How is my Grandson doing Regulus?" Walburga asked after a sip of water, Regulus turned to look at the woman a small smile gracing her lips at the thought of her six month old son.
"Atlas is doing well mother, he is already showing signs of magic around our home." Regulus replied before steadily asking- "Why did you need me back here so urgently?"
"The Dark Lord has a need to speak with you, you will Floo to Slytherin manor as soon as you have finished your meal." Orion answered sternly.
Gasps were littered throughout the Great hall at the casual mention of the Dark Lord, some people going as far as to voice their opinions.
"She has a son but still follows you-know-who?" someone whispered.
"Does that mean she already follows him, is she going to kill me because my parents are half-blood?" Another muttered.
"I bet all her slimy friends already have the mark." A Gryffindor spoke loudly.
Sirius wasn't surprised but that didn't mean he felt any less bad about leaving her in Grimmuald Place. He knew it was ether himself or his little sister who was going to have to take the mark, he felt like a coward.
Regulus just sat without any expression, Atlas squeezed her hand before moving to the other side of her so she could sit next to Rabastan.
Regulus nodded before the scene changed, the young woman was now dressed in a Black cloak and was wearing a golden mask. She was down on one knee her head bowed, a few others lined up next to her doing the same thing.
"Rise, my friends." A cold voice echoed from the walls. A man with shallowed cheeks and shining ruby eyes was shown seated on a thrown, while the people kneeled down rose from the floor and removed their masks.
First years started to cry or shake at the sight of the dark lord, nightmares already planning to attack as soon as night fell. The older years weren't much better some looked away not wanting to see the man who had caused the deaths of others.
"Now... Regulus, my right hand I have an important mission for you." Voldemort started, Regulus bowed her head in false thanks. "As you know a prophecy was made entailing a child and myself, a child to born at the end of the seventh month is to end my rein. After some research a few my dedicated followers have managed to narrow the children down to two." He continued. "I need you, Black, to rid me of that threat."
Regulus swallowed before calmly asking, "My Lord, may I inquire who these two children belong to?"
"Longbottom is due to give birth on the 30th July 1980 while that is close to the date in the prophecy we found one closer." Voldemort replied, "Potters mudblood wife is to give birth on the 31st July 1980." He said sinisterly.
Alice Fawley and Lily Evans were clung to each other, Harry, Monty and Mia trying to calm James and the rest of the Marauders down.
Everyone was wondering if Regulus would go through with it, they knew her brother had left her for James Potter a few years back. Would she take revenge?
"I will eradicate anyone who poses a threat to you, My Lord" Regulus announced before bowing deeply, leaving the building as soon as she was given permission.
Sirius turned to face his sist- Regulus, "You better not hurt ether of them Regulus." he warned, a protective aura encasing him.
Regulus rolled her eyes, she was harsh with her pettiness but not enough to kill someone for, well, if they don't deserve it.
Regulus was shown walking up the path of Potter manor, a bag in one hand with the letters from earlier, her wand in the other. As she reached the door she knocked, soon the red wood swung open revealing twenty year old Lily Potter.
When the red haired woman saw the youngest Black she tried to close the door but before she could she spoke up,
"Wait!" The door stopped and the Potter woman narrowed her eyes, hand coming to rest on her stomach. "Give this letter to Sirius would you?" Regulus asked handing Lily the envelope with his name on.
"Why? And what are you doing here, Regulus?" The Potter woman questioned.
The Onyx haired girl ignored the first question, "Go into hiding, the Dark Lord is after your child and he wont stop until he gets what he wants." She answered looking over her shoulder every few seconds.
"Why should we trust you, your just a filthy Death Eater." A new voice spoke up, James potter was now standing Protectively in front of his wife his wand clutched tightly in his hand.
"I do not want to see magical children killed. There is a Prophecy, that is all I can say." Regulus explained adding on as an after thought, "The Longbottom's are not safe ether." Before she apparated away leaving a shocked Potter Family still standing at the front door.
Silence was the only thing in the Great Hall, Potter and Sirius staring at her wide eyed. When they had seen her walking up to Potter manor they thought they would loose each other but no, she saved them.
"How dare you disobey your Lord!" Came the screeching voice of Walburga Black, before the dreadful woman could open her mouth again, Atlas was standing.
A wordless Petrificus Totalus shot from his outstretched wand, the woman freezing in her seat as the Lestrange-Black boy calmly sat back down next to his mother.
#watching the movies#wtm#female regulus black#fem regulus black#regulus x rabastan#rabastan lestrange#regulus black#ron weasley#draco malfoy#daphne greengrass#theodore nott#golden trio era#golden trio#marauders era#hp marauders#marauders#james potter#lily potter#lily evans#alice longbottom#sirius black#padfoot#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#prongs
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After using the new desktop layout for a while I can safely say it sucks.
Not because it very similar to how Twitter looks but because it is took the twitter layout and made it worse.
Lets look at both and compare..
There is the old version of twitter. (I refuse to acknowledge X)
And here is the current tumblr layout.
Though I would like to note that I use Firefox.
Note everything I am gonna say others have already said and done by other users so nothing here is new.
Just that these are the things that made the most sense to me.
1. It's cramped.
Everything has been squashed into the center when it really doesn't need to be.
It might be done in order to look closer to the app. However, the app has its own set up and isn't just using shrunken down version of the desktop as far I can tell.
Yet this empty space couldn't be used for ads since ads take the form of sponsored posts.
Also I have my adblocker turned off for Tumblr so I would likely know if it was being used for banner ads.
Dispite all of this there is somehow more empty space of tumblr that there was on twitter.
2. Its hard to read.
When the new layout was put into action I found myself really struggling to read the posts as my eyes would glide over to the left.
At first I thought is was because of the sidebar yet I found other websites with a sidebar don't have this problem for me.
However one user, whom I can't find the orignal post, pointed out that by having everything near the center goes against how the eye normally flows when reading.
they noted that depending on the native language most will eithe read from left to right or right to left.
Considering most of tumblr users seem to speak English in one way or another the eye is used to starting from the left side.
With everything being centered to makes tricky for the eye to follow the text that little bit more.
This is where the principle of "eye flow" which refers to the way the eyes will navigate a website.
Twitter also has a similarly awful layout but at the very least looks like it has given more space the the main posts. I guess.
3. The activity tab.
The activity tab when opened covers up whatever post you are looking at which just looks awful and only really adds to this claustrophilic feeling.
4. The notifications.
A lot of people including myself find the design of the too distracting of even overwhelming.
I am not sure how this could be fixed other than going for a subtler design or having some sort of ablity to turn of nofications.
I am sure there is more that I am not aware off or just don't bother me. I don't thing this layout is doomed but right now it just feels like the first draft.
Remember that you can give feedback via tumblrs own help center.
@ing staff will only do so much.
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And to Dust You Shall Return
An old illustration for my old story... And for my new translation! You can visit me and support my work on AO3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42272379) or read full story right in this post!
“And to Dust You Shall Return“ is my little ode to love for the very first object, which led me to the SCP Foundation fandom. For old version of SCP-049 (https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-049-arc). This is a short story about strange dreams about death and decay that Plague Doctor falls. But the strangest and most eerie thing is not that, but that he is not scared of this at all...
WARNING! The following text contains detailed description of decomposition and postmortem processes. Also, it may contains motives related to suicidal themes. If you have such thoughts and it becomes a problem, it is better to contact a specialist. Please be safe.
***
For several nights the Plague Doctor had been having the same dream.
It was full of images and sensations, almost tangible. After waking up from it, the Doctor lay on the bed for a long time, basking in the remnants of the vision — and his muscles stayed relaxed and disobedient for minute or two, as if the body was stuck in a charming ideal world that could only be born in tender pre-morning dreams.
Doctor liked it. Liked the bittersweet feeling that was sitting in his chest, liked to feel as if moisture had soaked his back, liked to remember the tightness that surrounded him, like an embrace. He had never thought that it could be so good in the grave.
In these dreams, he was lying in the wet ground, half covered with a shroud, motionless and heavy, with glazed eyes and swollen from liquid skin. His hand was frozen reaching up, clamped between his body and the edge of the pit — he looked at the shrunken hand with admiration — dead, but fulfilling his last will. Yes, he wanted to reach the sky...
The wind touched the fingers directed to the gray clouds, to the soft white light. There was not a single shadow around — the landscape seemed painted on canvas, a greenish-blue haze with strands of thick white fog hid the details of the grass and erased the horizon line. And everywhere the eye could see, everything was glowing and soothing and blissful, and the sky was shining, as if three suns were hiding behind the clouds at once.
This must have been Paradise.
He could not see, but he knew that his open cloak would soon be full of new life. The life that glows in hundreds of small white tubes attached with maternal love to the delicate joints of the body with the garment. Usually his fragrant musky smell repelled insects. But now he was not sweating, he was not secreting sebum and protective compounds— all these systems were dead.
When an endless scattering of older cubs scurried over his skin, when they moistened the flesh of his stomach with dissolving saliva, when they drank putrid juice like milk, when they got to the decomposed gray mass of omentum , he felt no pain, no nausea, no itching. His body stopped resisting, stopped screaming at him about damage and foreign proteins. It was over. There was only peace ahead.
He heard a buzzing sound. Then he saw a fly that flew past his frozen hand. He looked after it — the sound of its wings became quieter, in a matter of seconds it became a tiny blurry dot flying straight into the delightful high sky. And then it disappeared.
But there was a crack and another newborn creature soared skyward. Oh, that's the thing. His chest…
Is there really so little left of him?..
His armpits, stomach and pelvis were gnawed long ago — and soft grown-up larvae began to his chest, blackened from rot. He still has his back and legs — but a new brood will start to them later. But these little creatures got everything they needed from him. They carefully prepared a place for their cocoons, eating through the oozing yellow flesh, climbing deeper and deeper, to the bones — forming new holes next to the empty shells of older brothers — gray balls inserted into the skin.
After pupating, the larvae froze and fell asleep to wake up with wings and go towards the clouds.
He admired them, squinting his eyes to his chest. Why they didn't touch his head? The eyes and lips are so gentle, it would be easy for the cubs to dig into the soft flesh. Why didn't they like his face? Maybe the mask left too little meat on the skull?..
A bright flash caught his attention — he looked up again, and his soul trembled. A butterfly was sitting on his withered finger. Huge, it was curiously applying its proboscis to the wound, orange wings fluttered as it shifted from paw to paw. Previously, his touch would have killed the poor insect, but now he couldn't take his eyes off its translucent carved wings. But with his peripheral vision he caught another movement — three birds hovered high in the sky, circling and pausing, as if to get a better look at his prostrate body.
The сrows?..
They will disturb the little creatures… Although it's not up to him to decide who to feed. He's dead. The dead need not worry. If a few larvae die and become a meal for another living creature like him, is that a bad thing?..
The butterfly plunged its proboscis deep into the finger, sucking the rotting blood. Out of the corner of his mind, the Doctor remembered that such beautiful fragile creatures sometimes lack nutrients, so they drink sweat and blood, as humans sometimes consume chalk and lime.
The crows were approaching, he could clearly see their silhouettes.
How will their cold paws feel on him? Will they scatter the bones, making their way to the remains of the entrails? Or maybe one of them will fly away with a piece of cartilage and meat in its beak to hide it in a secluded place?
The air was damp and rainy, smelled of damp earth, grass and mushrooms. But most of all it smelled of rotten meat — this sense always seemed to the Doctor so layered and sweet. What a pity that people couldn't perceive it the way he did. If they knew what wonderful and complex processes take place in the body after death, if, like him, they could appreciate these aromas, if they had immunity to cadaveric diseases…
Maybe it was the smell that attracted unnaturally large coal-black birds?
Suddenly the crows disappeared. But he realized what was the matter when he heard the noise of feathers — the birds turned aside. They weren't going to land on his body. They wanted to land sideways on the ground, out of his sight. But why?
Why don't they pounce on the carefully provided food? Why are they procrastinating? Why didn't they make a single sound all the time?..
Wings flapped, a stream of air touched his arm. The butterfly was cleaning its antennae. It didn't move when the crows approached the ground. The beating of wings did not stop — did their owners hang in the air? The Doctor looked away in bewilderment from the butterfly, from the larvae in the skin, from the exposed bones and looked up. The sky was calling him. A deep, luminous sky, billowed with clouds…
Suddenly the earth shook and hummed, as if not crows, not light birds, but an immense mountain had fallen on the ground.
And then he wakes up.
After sleeping, Doctor poured a basin of water, washed his face and hands, then brushed his teeth with a wet cloth. Then he adjusting the cord on his cape and the belt over his cloak, and said a prayer and started routine work, gradually forgetting to yearn for the interrupted dream.
The days passed as usual. He sorted his collection of scientific papers over and over again and enjoyed music and books. Sometimes patients were brought to him, sometimes someone tried to talk to him. The last time for some reason a dead goat was brought to him instead of a patient, and he looked at the camera with complaint and misunderstanding for several minutes before they decided to send him home. During conversations, colleagues asked about strange new things, never realizing that his answers were to be useful to them.
Something incongruous was happening. Of course, he liked this place, it was much more comfortable than his former abodes, but sometimes he missed the musty smell of basements and the cold of forests.
He missed the spacious fields and dark quiet nights, he wanted to stop again at least once in an abandoned settlement with charming stone houses, or hide in the thicket and watch the bustling people.
He missed the land from where he came. And he had too much to do to get back there anytime soon.
And is it normal that recently he found black feathers in his bag, although he never let a single crow near it?..
#scp-049#scp fanfiction#SCP Foundation#scp fandom#scp#scp fanart#vent#vent art#gore#horror#grimdark#story#vent writing#plague doctor#tw gore#tw body horror#tw depressing thoughts#tw death#tw dark content#my post#my art
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Dragonball Fighterz interaction.
GT Goku:Woah! Are you a super sayian 4!?
Hairy oblivious Kefla:There’s a super sayian four?
(Well Kale and Caulifla do have tails on this blog... so it's not IMPOSSIBLE
"So you're not a super saiyan 4? Lame... Are all saiyan ladies in your universe hairy or just you? Cause you kind of look like a mini Oozaru."
"WHAT? OI! YA LITTLE RAT I don't know what that means but something tells me I should be offended by it!" Caulifla barked looking down at the tiny version of her mentor/rival angrily. "Wait did you say super saiyan four? There's ANOTHER one Goku didn't tell me about?"
"Yeah, there's alot. We kinda stopped giving them numbers after this one. Let me show you!" The shrunken Goku said quickly flexing his Ki which began rising to astronomical heights.
"So how do I look? This is my strongest form besides fusion. I'm not holding back on you like the other me." Goku chuckled flexing his energy a little bit just to show off. Sure it may shake the planet a bit but he wanted to flex. "This form is the pinnacle of a saiyans power. It can only be attained by mastering and controlling the beast inside of you. Given you have a tail like me it's possible for you to reach this state... someday."
"S-So cool! The aura is intense! And you grew taller! And hairier.... you look like Kale before she shaves everything... Anyway you gotta teach me it!" Caulifla yelled eyes sparkling with excitement.
"But wait if I used that transformation... would my tits be hanging out? It completely ripped your gi up... Meh it's worth the power boost. Now come on small Goku I wanna train!"
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Kryptonite Test #2
TITANS MANSION
*Kara is sitting on a chair in the lab inside of the mansion. Around her are Tim, Peter, and Wanda.*
Wanda: *Nervously looks at her friend* Kara, are you feeling any attraction towards me?
Kara: No. I’m pretty sure the Pink Kryptonite has worn off. Sorry for everything I said and making you feel uncomfortable.
Wanda: It’s alright.
Peter: *Holding a clipboard* Alright, time for the next one, it’s Red Kryptonite.
Tim: *Holds a lead box in his hands* Alright, Kara, we know this one has strange and unpredictable effects. Are you ready for it?
Kara: *Nods* Let’s just get it over with.
Tim: *Opens the box and a red glow comes out of it*
*Everyone watches in amazement as Kara begins to shrink. But not so much as shrinking as her facial features turn rounder, her hair shrinks, and her chest flattens*
Kara: *Has to look up at her friends while she is wearing baggy clothes* What? *She says with the voice of a little girl*
Tim, Wanda, and Peter: Awwww! *They say with awe-struck looks on their faces*
Wanda: *Has a big smile* You turned into a little girl!
Kara: *Looks over herself and her baggy clothes* My clothes are really baggy.
Wanda: I’ll fix that for you. *Her eyes and hands glow as Wanda aims her hands at Kara*
Kara: *Wears a shrunken version of her outfit* Oh cool! Thanks, Wanda!
Wanda: You’re welcome.
Tim: Alright, Kara, if your cousin’s experiences with Red Kryptonite has proven anything, this should last only last for a few hours*
*MORE THAN A FEW HOURS LATER*
LIVING ROOM
Kara: *Flies around in frustration as she grabs a couch and tosses it out a window. Her eyes glow red as she activates heat vision* You said that it would only last for a few hours! I want to be big again! I want it! I want it!
Tim, Wanda, and Peter: *All of them are hiding behind another couch in fear of the superpowered brat*
Wanda: This was a mistake!
Peter: Our biggest one yet!
Tim: We need to get Jetstream over here to use her mother skills!
Wanda: Forget that, we need Superman!
Kara: *Has a loud and violent tantrum*
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Corey and Oats in…
The Spooktacular Trip To Spirit Halloween.
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Corey Covid’s first halloween in New Zealand had been very successful and he was looking forward to having another one this year and he couldn’t wait to get his inner monster on and he asked Oats if the two of them could go on a spooky adventure. ‘Can you, me and Mel go on a spooky adventure together?’ ‘Sure…where do you want to go?’ ‘I know of a special halloweeny place to go where we can have all sorts of fun.’ Oats showed him a page of a website for a store called Spirit Halloween, and that immediately gave Corey an idea. ‘Oooh, let’s go there.’
“How are we going to do it though?”
“Leave that to me…”
Oats ran over to the bedroom and picked up the bedbox and pulled out what appeared to be a magical item which was a key which unlocked a hidden door which got them to the entrance of the store known as Spirit. The duo raced over to the entrance as they saw the reaper, the doors opened as if by supernatural magic and they walked inside it. Corey grabbed a basket and started to look around, Oats galloped over to the costume section and went to try on some of the costumes. He put on a Princess Peach costume and he turned into a half-equine version of her, but he was still himself, he put on an Emily (Corpse Bride) wedding gown and turned into a ghostly bride pony-girl version of himself that had a similar gown to Emily’s, he enjoyed putting on all of the feminine costumes and exploring his feminine side so this was natural for him.
He walked over to the masks and saw all the different horror character masks, and also stood near the spot that was used to activate one of the animatronics, the animatronic he was standing next to was Lord Raven…Lord Raven yawned as he awakened, looking impossible and frightening with his claw-like fingers, his glowing eyes and his bird-like face. Corey was impressed and took on a half bird-like form and sat on Lord Raven’s shoulder. Oats galloped over to Monty and Monty played a song for him with his cymbals as the equine twirled around, imitating a ghostly ballerina.
The two of them looked at the Beetlejuice memorabilia…’Do you ever noticed that it’s almost always Betelgeuse and Lydia that get all the merch? But hey, look there’s Adam and Barbara, and also the hunter with the shrunken head, and the sandworm.’ ‘I wish they would make some of Otho. Otho’s my second favorite character.’ ‘I like the Adam and Barbara plushes though, those are adorable.’ ‘Oatsie, how about we check the Nightmare Before Christmas stuff?’ ‘Yeah, that sounds fun.’
Oats looked through the Nightmare Before Christmas merchandise and he saw some Jack, Sally, Oogie Boogie and Zero shirts and toys but he did manage to find some Mayor hats and costumes and Mayor plushes. ‘Yaaay, I KNEW Glenn Shadix wasn’t going to be missed out on representation-wise.’ Corey squeezed an Oogie Boogie plush and the plush performed the Oogie Boogie song.
“Let’s get some Beetlejuice stuff for our friend.”
“Yeah, and some Nightmare Before Christmas things too.”
Corey nodded as he went through the laboratory walkthrough and he saw Nozzles the clown and Barry. He enjoyed going through and watching the displays, and upon emerging from the laboratory walkthrough he watched the tubes with the bubbles and also saw the Bog Zombie while Oats was playing with Betty Sharpe. Mel was having a go at pretending to be a scarecrow and standing next to Strawman and Possessed Pumpkin.
Mel also took on the form of a voodoo queen that was half living voodoo-doll as she performed the song Funky Nassau with Grim the skeleton and a group of singing ghosts, she also picked up some Haunted Mansion things and bought them along with some blind-bags. Oats got all excited about the Hocus Pocus section and looked at the costumes, he saw a Sanderson Sisters funko pop set. ‘Oooh, Sarah. She’s my favorite Sanderson sister.’ ‘Do you think that the actress who plays Sarah really does look like me?’ ‘Well Sarah Sanderson IS pretty but you’re pretty too, in your own way.’ ‘
The duo saw the bobbleheads of Jason Voorhees and Freddy Krueger and mimicked the head-bobbing movement in a style that was also referencing the infamous Butabi brothers from Saturday Night Live. Oats looked over at Mr Punchy and gave that animatronic a go, he chuckled as he saw Lucky Bottoms laughing away. ‘These guys are pretty fun.’ Next, they went over to Regan…’I loved you in The Exorcist, you were very scary.’
“Yeah, that voice and everything.”
Oats looked over at Lil Skellibones and played with him while Corey pretended to have a boxing match with Shorty from Killer Klowns From Outer Space. The duo had all sorts of fun in the store, playing around with the cast of characters, a couple of hours later Mel called them over and the duo paid for the things they picked out. ‘Here Corey, I got you and Alcina an Adam and Barbara plushie.’ ‘Aaaaw, thank you.’
Corey looked over at the zombie babies including the ‘burrito babies’ and frollicked around in the laboratory area once more, observing the ‘bubbles of death’ and pretending to be electrocuted, he definitely thought of this place as being so much fun he didn’t want to leave, but luckily he knew he could come back anytime. After he went back to Mel, the duo left the store with her and headed outside.
A black and orange pumpkin car was right for them outside, they hopped in the pumpkin car and went on a bit of an exploration as they visited graveyards and learned about ghosts and different takes on them in lore and pop culture, and after that they arrived back home at their house in Nile Road.
The duo got out of the car with Mel as they looked around before going into their house, Corey couldn’t believe all the fun he had at Spirit. ‘Do you think we’ll have more fun and that we’ll be able to go again?’ ‘Oh I just know it, that store is always there through August, September and all the way until November.’ ‘Yaaaaaay!’
Corey hugged Mel as he set up his special spooky display, later that evening the microbes all told scary stories and listened to funky halloween songs as they got ready for the upcoming halloween festivities to come, and they remembered to ask Mel if they could go to Spirit again, to which she said yes. ‘This halloween will be microbial.’ ‘It certainly will be.’ The duo laughed as they hugged each-other.
And when it was time for bed they snuggled up and dreamed of their adventure in Spirit and dreamed of their new friends like Regan, Lord Raven, Possessed Pumpkin and Lil Skellibones and they dreamed of having a monster party and being monsters with Corey as a vampirus (vampire virus) and Oats as a ghostly bride pony.
The fun isn’t over there though, for stay tuned for ‘Oats and the Unicorn Princess’ the ‘2022 Halloween Spooktacular’ ‘Oats’s Magical Flower Garden’ and quite a few other stories.
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Prada Bag
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