Kinkmeme the Second! (Courtesy the Bee Embuzzy)

[preuxchevalier]

We have collected fantazztic lore from the Hand'zz and the Monk'zz pozzzzezzzzionzz! It dezzcribezz the mozzt wondrouzz actzz of contortion and romance. We wish to experience more of thizz for our cultural zztudiezz that we may better azzzzizzt the Lamb!

The Bee Embuzzy implorezz you for your help. Pleazze help uzz to learn of the many wayzz of pleazzure and pazzzzion that we may better zzerve!

We welcome all other lore of zzimple romance, too. Thezze are mozzt foreign conceptzz to beezz! Perhapzz if you leave a note (zzigned or not) of a particular act, otherzz may be able to explain more.

Thank you for your help!

[You know kinkmemes! Have at 'em with prompts and fills below. Written or drawn are all loved.]

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Eddie is pale at anyone and everyone.

[(Anonymous)]

It started as a simple hug for Mika. The poor warou woman had looked desperately in need of one after a rough night. Eddie had checked in on her, as was his wont, and there she was, just fucking puppy eyes all around. He pulled her into an embrace, careful of her scars and held her as told him about her nightmare. This was more Sasha's shit, but he could listen, and he'd be there for her. She'd thanked him with cookies afterward, a tenuous smile on her lips. He invited her over for dinner, just to be sure.

Karkat is the next one. Kid was always curled up under a tree with a book, but today he was sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees and staring out at the yellowing fields. Didn't take long to find out he'd had a fight with his dad. Sucks giant spider balls when parents just don't understand mad scientists or your devotion to them, eh? The young man had gone from depressed mumbling to a pacing rant in the space of five minutes. He was throwing out some impressive swears as he related the fact that Theo and Sleipnir still hadn't shown up and he was sixteen. When he finally went still, Eddie patted him on the back and told him dads were just fucking morons sometimes and that if he wanted to do some mad sciencing shit, Sasha or Dist or that new one, Even, could probably use his help. It won't be the same, of course, but gotta keep yourself in form until your mad scientist shows up. Karkat considered this and asked if he thought they might be okay with him writing up the lab safety rules. Sure as shit they'd all be fine with that. The kid's determined as Eddie waves him off.

He had to go see Nemo after that. It only made sense to see if he was taking the fight just as bad. He was. Nemo seemed like a pretty chill guy, so to see him pacing - in a way very similar to his son - outside his hobbit hole was a major clue. Kids, man. It's hard trying to understand them sometimes. Nemo's rant was a perfect match Karkat's, angry and righteous and worried. They just don't understand when you're trying to protect them! And hey, sometimes you can't. Sometimes they say fuck the hell off and you gotta fuck off because they're going to be little shits if you don't let them make their own mistakes. Sometimes they aren't even mistakes, at that, you're just thinking they will be. Long as they aren't going to end up in ten pieces, it's probably okay to let them go. Mad scientists? Those are pretty dangerous, but, eh, sounds like the kid faced monsters with that mad scientist and came out still breathing. Nemo's raged quieted as he considered this, and Eddie wrapped and arm around the small man's shoulders. It's hard being a dad, but maybe listening a little more would help? Yeah, who the fuck knows? Can't please a teenager. They had a drink inside and traded songs before Eddie waved goodbye. Maybe Nemo wasn't a whole lot happier, but he seemed to calm down, and Meulin would be there to make him feel better. She nodded her thanks to Eddie as he was leaving.

The next person on his list to say 'hi' to isn't at home. Bertie's bees tell Eddie he's with the Scribe, and it takes a minute for him to remember that means Ienzo. He shrugs and heads over that way, but the sight of Jay angrily stomping out of Ammond's hive, pulling Dist along toward his house stops him up short. The fuck is that about? Jay looked ready to murder someone. Eddie hoped it wasn't Dist. He'd check on them in a minute as they'd made it to Dist's house and slammed the door. The way Dist had been walking was the only- oh. Eddie tried to control the grin on his face as he approached Ammond's hobbit hole and knocked.

Ammond wasn't happy. She was flushed yellow with embarrassment and had a look like she'd just been through a warzone. That bad, huh? Never get an eyeful before? Ammond had never gotten eyeful of human before, thanks. Thus began a discussion of the oddities of troll and human genitalia. Human genitalia? Yeah, it's fucking weird. Feels nice when you're doing stuff with it, though. Kind of like trolls, probably. Ammond insists there isn't anything weird about troll anatomy, but refuses to provide more detail. She was turning yellow again as he pressed and finally, Eddie just up and hugged the shit out of her. Ammond proceeded to throw him across the room with her telekinesis, but it could've been worse. She apologized after, and he laughed it off. The Land of Metal made getting thrown somewhere the least of his worries. The conversation turned to more mundane topics, including how horrible Jay was as a roommate. Eddie just listened, letting her blow off steam about the guy. When she finished, he suggested pranking him to get him back and Ammond's eyes had lit up with fiendish glee. Just don't start something you aren't prepared to finish. She assured him she would finish him - it. Finish it. He bumped fists with her before heading out.

As he was pretty sure Jay and Dist had zero desire to see other people, he passed them up in favor of moving on to Hajime's house. It's another odd stop, but he knew the guy had had a bad run-in with the wall the other day. Turned into a giant bug. Fucking weird shit, but, eh, it happens. Hajime's in and doing something with his camera. Eddie's pressed into service as the guy gets his lighting equipment set up and calibrated for whatever it was he planned on doing. Taking photographs of the wall. Would the photos show the same thing for everyone? Well, fuck. Eddie hadn't even thought about it, not that he gave the wall much thought at all. He noted the slightly-fearful look in Hajime's eyes as he discussed the wall, though. Whatever that shock had done to him - apart from turning him into a bug - it had left him scared. Eddie pulled the guy into a quick hug and Hajime stiffened. Some guys just didn't like it, but Eddie persisted until the Kamen Rider man simmered the fuck down about it. Hugs helped, but then Eddie offered to go help him photograph the wall when he was ready. Hajime said he'd get him, but it might be a few days. Take all the time you need. Hajime assured him he would and they parted ways.

It was getting close to dinner time, but Eddie still wanted to check on the dapper winged man. He knocked on Ienzo's door, hoping to make it a twofer, but the lights weren't on in there and the pounding went unanswered. Nyanpire, chilling in his yard, pointed Eddie down the road toward the meadow. The stars were just starting to come out when he found the pair. They were laying back in the field on a blanket. Or, more accurately, Bertie was on a blanket, on his back with his wings spread eagle. Ienzo was half-on the blanket, half-on one wing, pointing up towards the sky. He paused and sat up quickly, looking over at Eddie as he approached, though. It took longer for Bertie, and he ended up on his elbows rather than making the effort to get up fully. Nice night. The pair looked at each other like kids that had got caught sneaking in late after a date. Well... that would explain Mr. Scarf Man freaking out about dropping Bertie. Bertie babbled something about comparing constellations to the ones he and Ienzo knew to see if they could possibly pinpoint where they were. Eddie only grinned, noting that it was a pretty sweet-looking effort. Ienzo didn't look impressed by the pun, and Bertie didn't seem to understand, just frowning in embarrassment. He figured it would be bad to freak the guy out completely, though - as Bertie tended to do - so Eddie left it off there, wishing them well. He'd check with Bertie tomorrow. For now, he had dinner to attend to with Sasha, Lili, and Mika. It felt like a good day for pasta.

[(Anonymous)]

Angsty teenager cuddle pile, courtesy of Gamzee.

Karkat, Kurai, Murai, Lili and Riku? Or anyone else you want to add.

[(Anonymous)]

Ammond/Gamzee
The most awkward make outs.

[(Anonymous)]

Kurai/Riku
WE SHALL NEVER SPEAK OF THIS AGAIN.

[imitation_crane]

YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT I TOP

[(Anonymous)]

Even/Aeleus for science.

[(Anonymous)]

Even kissing Jay and being horrified... because he finds himself very much into this.

Pictured: Even's face at me

[defrostedpride]

"It seems perfectly obvious to me!"

"Well, it doesn't to me, dearest, so you might consider that perhaps it isn't so obvious as you think. What isn't there to like?"

"What is there to like? I prefer to maintain a strict one tongue per mouth ratio, thank you very much." Even crossed his arms and scowled.

Jay laughed. "First of all, tongues are strictly optional, I promise, though you're missing out. Second, if that's how you're thinking of it, no wonder you haven't enjoyed it. It's a question of mood. And technique, of course."

Even rolled his eyes. "Then I don't experience the requisite mood to find ogling other people's pores a pleasant experience."

"Then close your eyes!"

"You're deliberately missing the point!"

"No I'm not! You are!"

"What point is that, then?"

"The point, sweetling, is that you're asserting a universal dislike with painfully inadequate sample size."

Even's scowl darkened yet further. "I find the sample size more than sufficient to come to a conclusion."

Jay crossed his arms and matched Even glower for glower. "I think you have a confirmation bias."

"I do not!"

"Then prove it!"

"And just how do you suggest I do that?" Even had a sinking suspicion he knew what the answer was going to be.

He was right. "Close your eyes and find out. And stop being so bloody tall!"

Even reminded himself that this was for science and also winning an argument. There were few things he would not do for either. "I still think your legs should have an extension option," he said, but he shut his eyes.

Jay was touching his head. Even wasn't entirely sure why. It wasn't unpleasant, precisely, not the way he'd expect it to be to have someone he couldn't see touching him. It was only Jay.

"I can see you thinking, you know. Just - try not to, for a bit."

Easier said than done, Even thought, but he tried. Jay was still very near, which was more pleasant than it wasn't. It certainly made him feel better about having his eyes closed. And - ah, there were lips on his. It was...well, it could be worse. Jay's lips were soft, no pressure (yet, Even suspected); Even could feel his breath. It was oddly warm and comfortable, like a small space formed by their bodies, with nothing else at all. That was sufficient.

His hands were cradling Jay's head. When had that happened? Why? Did why matter, when it felt nice, comfortably intimate?

"I told you so," Jay said smugly, pulling away, and Even opened his eyes with a feeling like he'd had a bucket of water poured over him.

He'd kissed Jay. Or Jay had kissed him? Or both? The point was, he'd enjoyed it, and he didn't - he'd never -

"What did you do?" he shouted, shoving Jay away.

For his part, Jay still looked unwarrantedly pleased with himself. "Proved that you were wrong and I was right, I think. Or are you going to claim you didn't have fun?"

"Fun?! You - you -" He didn't enjoy kissing, he'd never enjoyed it, still less anything that followed it, and he didn't want to! He'd done all that, made his peace with it, years ago, decades even; how dared Jay -

"I hate you," he hissed, turning and heading for his own home at something just barely less than a run.

[(Anonymous)]

Jay/Dist/Even

A lot of science, and so little time.

[(Anonymous)]

Lili/Gamzee
Honk honk

[(Anonymous)]

She gave a small grunt, having to bite the inside of her cheek as Gamzee grinned down at her. For once he didn't look as high as he usually was. Lili was appreciative of that much as she stretched out a little in the grass under them. She's doing her best to ignore the slight breeze grazing across her exposed legs as her skirt continues to hike up from her position alone. It's a little awkward, but it's not like anyone else is out here at the moment.

"You alrightm chica?" Warm large palms brush along her legs, curious but not going too far just yet.

"Alright as I can be." She answers back, pressing her hand against the smooth surface of his back. The redheaded psychic tracing unseen patterns across that skin as she let his surface thoughts rumble through her mind. It's almost a comfort to hear the faint murmurs of thought. "I'm just going to be rusty kissing wise anyway."

Gamzee gave an amused chuckle at that, "Don't you fret, sis. I ain't exactly the MPV myself, but we'll figure it out."

Lili wrinkled her nose at his word choice but let it go there was better things to focus on after all. She reclines back once again into the grass, reaching up to tug Gamzee down for a kiss. Gamzee is lax and easy going while Lili's approach to kissing is more aggressive. She's all tongue, teeth and chapped lips in that moment. She arches herself up against him encouragingly hardly one to shy away from making her intentions clear.

What qualms Gamzee might have had don't linger, not for long with how they're kissing. His hand has found its way to her top, undoing the buttons along the front. The blast of cool air hitting her chest sends a chill through the redhead as she presses closer against the would be juggalo. Gamzee breaks the kiss, laughing a little at her shiver.

He reaches out to brush his large fingers across her bra, cupping her breasts and giving them a purposeful squeeze.

"Honk, honk." Slipped out of his lips without Gamzee really noticing. He's busy playing her breasts like they're the most perfect things he's seen today.

Lili initially just stare, glancing from Gamzee to her own breasts. It takes a moment as her stare wilts, her hand covering her mouth as she bites down on her bottom lip. It's no use really, since she starts laughing and going pink.

"Gamzee-" She chokes pulling him down over the top of her, "You're so- oh my god."

Lili just kisses Gamzee heatedly again before he can even try to justify that.

[(Anonymous)]

Sasha/Aeleus
Sasha likes them big, right?

Not smut. Sorry.

[(Anonymous)]

Sasha was a simple man with simple pleasures in life. One of those pleasures came after getting involved with Eddie. It was where Sasha discovered he liked his men being manly. Not that there was anything wrong with the lithe long haired ones with pretty eyes with thick lashes or anything.

But Sasha liked the strong jaw, seeing the muscles work, he liked looking them up and down knowing that they were built in a way that was pure eye-candy when he was underneath a man like that.

But he was a married man now, but that didn't change the fact that he was human and he knew for a fact that Eddie's mind would sometimes wander. Both were loyal so they didn't need to worry about it.

So right now, with the warm water pouring over him. He was going to let his mind play about a man he had yet to even talk to but had seen a few times about.

Sasha knew his fantasy was just a little bit of porn. Just a touch there, no foreplay, just rough sex. Quick and selfish for both of them. Neither thinking about pleasing the other and just taking.

Sasha doubted the other man would be like that though. But that was the nice thing about fantasies. He could take what was probably a proper gentleman and turn him into a sex beast.

[(Anonymous)]

Di/Nemo
Finally human (and troll) again, finally able to have sex on every flat surface around.

[(Anonymous)]

Perhaps against the counter in the nuritionblock isn't the most appropriate place to be doing this. Callused fingertips run up her hips and lift her and in the moment she can't find it in her to express that opinion. The logistics of having sex in different places had already been spoken upon after that time pressed against the door and it had been mutually agreed upon that the act was well worth the cleanup. Besides, on top of the counter is not the same as against it, she could admit.

In the times since their first, she's reconciled that he'll never completely fit in her. Meulin just isn't made for him in the right way. They've learned to manage. His short thrusts were more than enough stimulation for her and twining her bulge around him certainly stimulated what he can't fit. Nemo's learned the spots around her horns to stroke and she learned the right way to angle herself to push that tiny bit more of him in. Each time is better and different, unique.

He commented once that lubrication was never a problem with her and she could only chalk it up to species difference, because of course it would never be. His very touch had genetic material dripping down her legs, and he touches her slippery bulge, strokes it with fingertips and lets them slide wet and green down to her nook. Her head hits the cabinet behind her with his fingers inside, just two for now, but he slowly stretches her and maybe--maybe she can fit him some day if she can make her body work with her. Lips on her neck now and she will apologize later--maybe--for the way her claws dig across his back. Green slicked fingers slide up to her waist and pull her a little closer.

She stops him with a soft kiss, her hands reaching to touch him this time. Everything about him is unique and she's always touching, gripping him as he's hard and soft all at once. Her claws are gentle this time, just grazing over his balls. He's so strange and she laughs as a thought comes to mind.

"What?" He looks a little put out to be laughed at with her touching him, but she strokes him as an apology, enjoying the small amount of genetic material he leaks. Another difference she enjoys.

"It's just a good thing I'm not really a purrbeast, that's all." She kisses his neck, shoulder, cheek. His facial hair tickles in a strange way but she enjoys it.

"...I'm going to deliberately pretend I didn't hear that." His hips shift forward and he slides in, just a little, just enough to make her go still and make her laughter die. He slowly slides just a little more in and she slowly moves to meet him. It's hard to tell if he gets any deeper, if she takes anymore of him in--the sensation of being so full is too much to take in details. Her bulge winds around him without much thought and the tip swirls down over his balls, lifting and coating them.

"D-Don't worry, I'm always careful with you." And god she is, she always is. He might not know how she restrains herself in these moments, how she could curl around and bite his bones in half--but she doesn't want to think about his fragility right now. His hands are strong at her waist. He's hard and so big inside her. He's perfect.

They're both moving now--god she'd never moved with Signless, it had all been between them and what movement had been done had been with claws and teeth and muffling their cries. Slowly, but eagerly now, she strokes him and he whispers in her ear everything she thought she might never hear again. Beautiful, amazing, how she feels and she could cry in that moment. She could cry but what a waste it would be to bring tears into these moments. She can only whisper these things back and as minutes pass, the whispers turn to frantic moans and gasps.

She's quieter than he might like, a lifetime of hiding her passion behind closed doors and in the depth of caves--where being heard meant being killed. He's a little louder as if to make up for it, their noises mixing between them and the warmth of the air between them makes up for the cold outside that seeps in through the edges of windows.

In the end, it's sudden and quiet. Her arms fling back to keep herself on the countertop when her body trembles and quakes and his face presses against her chest in heavy pants and god, every time she wishes she could make this moment last forever. The contentment, the quiet sounds of breathing and the warmth of their bodies pressed together, twined together, connected.

Her legs swing around his back, holding him there for just a little longer. Preserving that connection.

[(Anonymous)]

Bertie/Ienzo
Being cocked blocked by terrier sized bees is a thing neither thought would happen, yet here they are.

[(Anonymous)]

They were trying to be helpful. Bertie tried very hard to remember the bee were trying to be helpful, but when he was standing with Ienzo, naked from the waist up, stroking the other man's back and beginning to press kisses up his neck, he really, really did not need a large, black and yellow sign with the words 'BEE ZZAFE' held up from behind the Chesterfield for his consideration and benefit. It left him pulling away from Ienzo and suggesting they finish this round of... chest comparisons for the evening. Ienzo seemed a little confused and the bees lowered their sign looking saddened. They obviously hadn't gotten the message right. The Lamb was being safe by stopping, of course, but they needed to consult the Monk's and Hand's literature again.

Bertie again made the concerted effort to remember that his consorts were simple things that didn't understand much about humans when he was taking tea with Ienzo one evening. Ienzo was seated on the Chesterfield and Bertie in one of the armchairs. Bertie started to rise to go join the other man when another sign was held up just above Ienzo's head. 'BEE A WILD ANIMAL IN CARNAL PAZZZZION.' Bertie sat right back down, coloring out to his ears and wishing he could sink into the floorboards. Ienzo raised a brow at this behavior and asked if he was all right. Bertie said he needed some fresh air. Immediately. In fact, he might like to sleep outside. Ienzo suggested that might be cold. Bertie said that would be just perfect. The bees conferred, perplexed by this latest turn. Perhaps they had consulted the wrong lore.

The third time, it was rather a lot harder to remember the bees were trying to help.

"Bertie, why is one of your consorts holding up a diagram of anal intercourse?" Ienzo asked, staring at the sign he had a very good view of from his position next to Bertie in the writing room. Bertie was seated at the typewriter, Ienzo had kissed him on the back of the neck, and they'd both looked over when they heard buzzing shortly after.

"Would you set me on fire, love?" Bertie returned, an edge of pleading in his voice as he stared down at his desk, head in hands.

"I prefer you 'burn with passion,' as the sign your other consort is now indicating, metaphorically."

"Oh, God..."

"Bertie, how long have they been making signs?"

Bertie could only moan softly into his hands.

"I think we might want to tell them it's inappropriate to suggest you... 'make me scream your name until I find my bliss.'"

Bertie just continued to cover his face as Ienzo shooed the bees out and confiscated their stock of signs. He burned the majority, but he kept the one with the diagram only for reference.

[(Anonymous)]

Mika/Di/Nemo
Confusion quadrants: GO.

short thing

[(Anonymous)]

There's more biting than he expected. A lot more biting than he had ever expected from Meulin or Mika, really, but he's not sure why. Maybe it's the fierce way Meulin had pulled Mika's hair or the way Mika bit down on her shoulder. They're...really into it, hard biting and pulling and wow it was really hot.

He's already inside Mika but god damn, Meulin is slowly sliding in as well, wrapping around him, pressing against her walls and god, it's so tight. So tight and watching Meulin growl into the kiss, watching Mika's claws dig into skin and come back green--it's enough to make him come already but no not yet. No, he's never quite had something like this before, he can't let it end.

They're making noises, almost a purr, almost a growl. He might be concerned when they come away from a kiss with her licking red blood off her lips. And then she's kissing him, the coppery tang of blood on his lips. He's not really into bloodplay but maybe for these two, he could get used to it.

[(Anonymous)]

Di <> Bertie <> Jay

Di and Jay are physically affectionate. Bertie is not. It gets super awkward.

[(Anonymous)]

Jay/Dist/Even, sex pollen.

A lab accident produces a strong, airbourne aphrodisiac and the lock on the lab door is jammed. Nobody is happy about any of this. Or are they.

[(Anonymous)]

Mika/Eddie/Sasha
because reasons...

[(Anonymous)]

Mika was enjoying this a little too much. She was watching Eddie squirm in his seat as Sasha ran a hand down her waist and nipped at her neck. She was enjoying seeing this side of Sasha. She knew when people looked at Eddie, they knew he was someone who could be sensual, who could be in charge. But they didn't know how Sasha could control the scene.

She loved feeling Sasha against her, she loved seeing Eddie watch them like a starved animal. Eddie didn't ever dress up, he didn't need to. Mika knew he was fetish fuel alone. Sasha was more timid about it hard to get started. He had...issues, issues the three of them were working on.

She slipped a finger under the seamless collar that was around his neck and had a number engraved on it. The collar that the entire world could see.

“No, bad puppy.” Sasha said.

“If I am a bad dog, why are you with the collar?” She teased. This was a part of their play for Eddie. Both being dominate, both being submissive. Her hands in glove that kept her fingers close together- like animal paws but just enough for her to grab ever so slightly, Sasha's own gloved hands moving up her corset.

“Because I lead by example.” he cupped one of her breasts. Sasha nipped one of her ears ever so softly.

“You should bark for me then.” She teased. Then she paused turning around, “No- I don't think you would bark. You're not friendly enough- and when you're with Eddie. You're like a cat in heat. Meow for me.”

She could hear Eddie whimper. The rule for the night was that Eddie wasn't allowed to touch anything. She could see from the corner of his eye that his jeans were tight and he was trying to grind against them for some sort of relief.

Sasha trailed a hand down and pulled at her tail, before swatting her ever so slightly.

“No.”

Mika pressed a leg against Sasha. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, and a muscle shirt that had a brain logo on it. A uniform exercise shirt from the Psychonauts if she remembered right.

She bit down on his shoulder, she could taste a little bit of blood.

She could tell Eddie could smell the blood.

She slipped a hand up Sasha's shirt and clawed down so slightly down his chest.

“Are you jumping now?” Sasha tsk'd. “And biting your master.”

“I can't help it. You're not a strong master.” She moved to pin Sasha onto the bed, pushing his shirt up, making sure Eddie could see each movement between the two. That he could see her spill out so slightly from her corset, that he could see her breast pressed against Sasha, that Sasha would take a handful of her hair and claim her mouth with his own.

“I'll show you a strong master.”

[(Anonymous)]

bertie/mika

he makes an attempt to return the favors paid in the last kinkmeme

in which i probably took a trip down Weird Kink Lane to get here

[(Anonymous)]

How it came up again, he couldn't really fathom, but Bertie Wooster did know one thing. After the other evening's...er, excitement, for lack of any appropriate phrases, he owed Miss Whitepaws a favor whether she would admit it or not. She had reassured him many times that there was no need to pay her back, yet time and again she seemed to go out of her way to help him. Nearly an entirely new wardrobe, well made or not by her own standards, could attest to that.

No, Bertie was going to make it up to her, he simply had no idea how.

Canary yellow wings rustling uncertainly as he paced and fidgeted, only stopping at a soft whimpering sound from his bed. Bertie flushed brightly as he realized he'd been thoroughly distracted as he turned back to his guest. Mika fussed quietly as she shifted in discomfort, sniffing the air in a way that reminded him of Ienzo as she'd been blindfolded with a satin ascot he'd found in the back of a drawer. Her hands were bound together above her head, and now that she was naked Bertie had come to realize why she covered as much skin as possible.

The poor girl was covered head to toe in scars, and none of them seemed to have healed well save for one or two. They were massive, ugly things that obviously were a source of deep shame, but Mika was being a terribly good sport even if she was blushing furiously and nibbling her lower lip. He moved to sit down next to her, but one of his wingtips dragged across her skin, and her knees jerked up as she gasped, her tail quickly flicking up between her legs.

That actually gave him an idea.

Abandoning her side for just a moment to her weak protests, Bertie came back with one of his fallen pinion feathers, his wings fluttering for a moment before they tucked tightly against his back again. The young woman went still as he dragged the feather across her cheek and chin, watching the way her nose twitched and she squirmed away from him as he flicked her nose with it. Chuckling to himself when she snorted and tried to lick the tip of her nose and rub it against her shoulder. Taking a closer look at her, he noticed that there really was little of her that wasn't scarred, and after a moment's nervous hesitation, he dragged his feather across the unmarked skin.

She gasped and squirmed, whimpering softly as he teased her nipples and whined through her clenched fangs when he brushed along the undersides of her arms. Her hips seemed to draw a surprising reaction, as did the insides of her thighs. It wasn't until she was slumped on her side, whining piteously that he stopped teasing her with the feather and anxiously laid a hand on her knee. She looked oddly frail, bones jutting painfully against her scarred skin, but the part that made him hesitate the most was the thick fur that covered the parts of her that he found himself trying not to think about too much.

No, no, he had to do this properly. Swallowing around the thick lump in his throat, Bertie steeled his nerves before pressing his trembling fingers against her fur and found it surprisingly warm and soft. Letting his fingers slide a little lower, he almost flinched when his fingers came away hot and sticky if it hadn't been for Mika's sigh of relief. With a bit of coaxing and direction on her part, Bertie was soon stroking her until her fur was slick with the same sticky stuff that was almost dripping from his fingers.

It was probably a good thing that Mika was blindfolded, so she couldn't seen the few times it made him cringe. Poor girl didn't need that on top of everything else, he figured. Still he was diligent and kept up until she made a sharp keening sound, yanking hard on her restraints as he found his fingers almost trapped inside her. It was rather alarming, but she seemed to have a good time of it when she finally relaxed against the blankets again. He would've called it a job well done and washed his hands of it after that if she hadn't made the saddest sound when he finally worked his fingers free again.

Right, then. He wiped his brow with the back of his clean hand as he watched the way Mika shifted beneath him, lifting her hips with the softest whine escaping her lips. Might as well finish what you've started, old boy. There were a few false starts but with a little help from Miss Whitepaws, breathless as she was, Bertie was fairly certain he gave her as good as he'd gotten by the end of it.

Yet somehow it was still Mika that ended up cleaning him up afterward.

[(Anonymous)]

bertie/eddie

likewise a return for the wing buddies sex

[(Anonymous)]

So there was this prompt on the last JJ Kinkmeme

"So Ienzo's dreamself and presumably godtier bodies are cismale right? What about taking a look at him getting used to his new anatomy, either solo or with some help from Bertie?"

And I had half of a fucking thing written for it and damned if I'm scrapping it so I'm reposting it here. There's like zero point in anoning because everyone knows it's me but I don't care it's traditional

FILL (part 1/2) minor dysphoria content warning

[(Anonymous)]

The last few months of Sburb had been hectic, to say the least. Dealing with Jay losing his legs on top of attempting to wrap up the last of his quests and aid in dealing with the remaining Denizens left little time for investigating personal matters, which Ienzo found very unfortunate, given that as of the abrupt end to Vladik Vathek’s bacchanal he had some very personal matters that he really needed to look into. As it stood though, there just wasn’t enough time and, almost as pressingly, not enough privacy for him to be at all comfortable taking a moment to do so.

Of course, it occurs to him that he might just be making excuses. Doubly so when he continues to regard the idea with trepidation even after arriving somewhere entirely different with no apparent shortage of time and no server players potentially watching at any given time. There’s whatever being governs this realm to be concerned about, of course, but all signs point to them already knowing all of his secrets. If he’s forced to be honest with himself, there’s just something a bit nerve wracking about knowing there’s something different about one’s own body, despite the change being for the better. Possibly because, really, as if looking more closely would make it disappear, like trying to remember a dream.

That’s stupid, of course, and almost definitely not how it works, so as soon as he comes to this realization he resolves to finally give himself a thorough examination.

It’s actually somewhat anticlimactic, once he gets around to it. Which isn’t to say he isn’t pleased, but nothing awful happens when he takes his shirt off to get a better look at himself. He actually has to pause momentarily and wait, wincing, thanks to years of conditioning to expect something horrible to counteract any good things that happen to him. The moment for dramatic irony passes, though, and tentatively he turns back towards the mirror, unsure of what exactly he had intended to do here. Observations from the top down, he supposes? Good enough.

His face is almost entirely the same, which he supposes is convenient in that no one else was aware enough of the differences to question them after he godtiered. He’d been fortunate enough to have been graced with an androgynous appearance from the start, but looking closely at the lines of his jaw, cheekbones and brow they all seem very slightly more pronounced. Though again, the differences are so minute that he’d think it was nothing but wishful thinking on his part if Zexionsprite hadn’t pointed it out to him.

He’s broader across the shoulders as well, but it’s not enough to really be visible either. The only way he really noticed was the fit of his old shirts, all tailored for how he’d been before. More noticeable, though, is his chest, the muscles defined if not particularly impressive. It’s a little strange feeling loose fabric against his skin after being so accustomed to having to bind himself tightly each day in order to feel presentable. Absentmindedly, he brushes his hand across his chest and then shivers at the unexpected sensitivity. Had it always been like that? Possibly, but Ienzo had made a point of ignoring any sensations that came from there for the last eight years.

He pauses, biting his lip, and experimentally runs a rough, callused thumb over his nipple. Yes, he thinks as he actually gasps quietly, he had been this sensitive before, but it had always felt too incorrect and disconcerting to be truly enjoyable. Now it’s… Well. He feels a little undignified standing in front of the mirror and touching himself, and the way the work-worn skin of his hands keeps catching and scraping at his skin is detracting from things a little bit. Bertie’s hands are much smoother, though, and he wonders briefly what it would be like to have him touching him like this.

That’s more than enough of that though. He’s getting distracted. Right.

He’s more than a little disappointed to note that his waist and hips haven’t changed much, if at all. As above his muscles are more defined, but he’s not anything particularly impressive in that arena so they do little to take away from the rather dramatic hourglass curve that’s fairly noticeable even when he takes pains to obscure it with layers of clothing. It may be that this too is all in his head, though. Plenty of people in Sburb had seen him without his labcoat and no one seemed to think anything was odd, and even back when he had to wear the closely fitted uniform of Organization XIII no one questioned his gender in seriousness. Still, he can’t help but frown slightly as he runs his fingertips over the prominent crests of his hips.

So that leaves just one thing that he knows has changed for certain. Truth be told he’s much more nervous about this than anything else, though he can’t say why exactly. It’s just a part of him, and it certainly feels more natural than it had at any time previously, but irrationality is the blight of all sapient beings and he’s just not fully comfortable with looking just yet. He actually considers putting his shirts back on and calling it a day, but no.

Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he undoes the buckle of his belt.

[(Anonymous)]

Reposting this:

Mika/Someone

Comfort. Mika has a terrible nightmare and wakes up her partner with her distressed noises in her sleep

[(Anonymous)]

plz someone make this happen

[(Anonymous)]

bondage

femdom preferred, but i will take anyway i can get

[(Anonymous)]

Any particular lady you'd like, my dear?

[(Anonymous)]

lili/kreutzer

young lady lovin'

[(Anonymous)]

So has anyone else noticed that Ienzo always seems to top in these Bertie/Ienzo fills?

I think it might be Bertie's turn. Bonus points if Ienzo is super into it.

[(Anonymous)]

It’s later than either of them had intended to stay out, but staring up at the ruby heavens from their blanket, Bertie’s Halloweaster basket filled with an empty bottle of wine and the remnants of the snacks the bees had prepared them, it seemed right. Ienzo felt warm enough in the quiet between them now with his scarf, pressed close to the other man’s side. The chill across his cheeks didn’t bother him. He’d allowed himself to get a little buzzed on the wine – strawberry wine – and was fully intending to enjoy the effects for another half hour or so when Bertie began shifting.

Bertie had spread his wings out to lie down, and they’d proved a comfortable enough bed to rest on along with the arm he had wrapped under Ienzo. The wings had been twitching periodically throughout their stargazing, which Ienzo took to be an attempt to keep them from going numb. Now, Bertie was most certainly raising the one Ienzo was laying on.

“Sorry,” Ienzo said, just the tiniest bit disappointed this hadn’t lasted longer. He started to sit up, but Bertie’s grip on him tightened.

“No, no! I didn’t mean...” He trailed off.

The mage looked over at him in confusion. Bertie’s cheeks were flushed with the cold and – his Sense... sense told him – drink. “Bertie, did you want to get up?” It was really always better to be direct with Bertie. There was a slightly higher chance he might give a comprehensible, if still illogical, answer.

“No, I was trying to- Oh dash it!” Bertie chewed his lip for a moment, before coming to some apparent decision. “May I kiss you? I was just trying to get my wing up a bit in case anyone came traipsing along the road.”

“You may,” Ienzo allows with a small, amused smile, “but I’m fairly certain it’s past the time that most people would be out traipsing.” Before he could carry on with a discussion of the fact most of the trolls seemed to have fallen into a typical diurnal sleep pattern in contrast to their more natural nocturnal proclivities, Bertie touched the cold fingers of his free hand to Ienzo’s face. He tipped Ienzo’s chin up for a better position for the requested kiss.

It starts off as their kisses normally do; the kiss is chaste and brief. Instead of leaving it at that like Bertie usually did when he was the one initiating, though, he took a breath and went in for another, this time a firmer press of lips accompanied by further movement as he tried to roll himself to face Ienzo. It wasn’t working very well with the mage pinning one wing.

Ienzo sighed a little internally and broke off the kiss to sit up. He really hoped it wouldn’t ruin the moment, but this needed to be done. “If you’d like to pull your wings to one side?” Bertie scrambled to do so, lying on his side now. Ienzo joined him. The ground wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the other man’s wing had been, but it was still warm, and that was a plus.

Bertie didn’t wait to ask permission this time. As soon as Ienzo was down, he wrapped one arm around the mage’s waist and cupped his cheek with the other hand. The insistent press of lips was joined by a flick of tongue. Ienzo blinked a few times, more than a little shocked at the quick progression of this, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, he’d be hard pressed to say he wasn’t enjoying it thoroughly. He parted his lips and that was when Bertie seemed to freeze for a moment, breaking off.

They’d never actually done this. “It-it’s all right?”

Ienzo gave him a Look, because really, when he opened his mouth to accept, that hardly seemed to indicate anything else. Bertie latched back onto him, tongue tentatively beginning to explore the mage’s mouth. Bertie tasted like the wine and food, and beneath that, tea and mint. Ienzo was suddenly very glad the other man had quit smoking so long ago or this might be a much less pleasurable experience.

Content to continue kissing in the dark on their blanket, Ienzo was again a little surprised to find Bertie stroking his side, fingers dancing at the hem of his vest at the downward edge. Then he wiggled under and started pulling at the button-down shirt beneath. Well, all right, then. The alcohol was certainly making Bertie bold, and him receptive.

Ienzo had been keeping his own hands relaxed, one resting on the back of Bertie’s neck, and the other on his shoulder. Now, though, the mage reached down, pushing Bertie’s hand away for a moment so that he could just tug his shirt free. That accomplished, he grasped the other man’s hand and moved it back to where it had been. Taking it as the invitation it was, Bertie’s fingers began to feel the smooth skin beneath. His soft fingers – pianist’s fingers, not the rough calloused feeling of a scientist – brush up along Ienzo’s waist, skin-to-skin now. It takes a great deal of restraint not to fidget, to stop Bertie before he reaches the binding. He has to remember that’s not there anymore.

What is there, is one of his nipples.

“Hah!” Ienzo pulls out of their kiss to gasp as the other man’s cold hand brushes across the sensitive spot.

He starts to pull back again, eyes wide. “Sorry! Sorry, did that hurt? Oh, God, sorry!”

Ienzo snags Bertie’s hand before he can pull it out from under his shirt entirely. “No! No, it feels very... I like it.”

They resumed once more, but this time, Bertie went for his neck instead of his lips as he moved his fingers gently back up, ghosting them across Ienzo’s stomach and chest along the way. The maddening attention was beginning to make an entirely different part of Ienzo stir with interest in the proceedings.

As if sensing this, it wasn’t half a moment later that Bertie broke off kissing long enough to roll himself and Ienzo over so that Ienzo was the one on his back and Bertie was above him. The larger man’s wings draped around them, hiding their upper halves from view, at least. Bertie used the hand that wasn’t up Ienzo’s shirt to prop himself above the mage. Their legs had gotten tangled somehow Ienzo found himself situated with one of Bertie’s thighs pressed up against the crotch of his trousers while one of Ienzo’s thighs was between Bertie’s legs. When the other man lowered himself and undulated – perhaps unconsciously as he continued to kiss Ienzo’s neck and jaw – it became very apparent that he was similarly aroused.

This seemed something like an important step to talk about, but with Bertie’s rare show of interest and not-entirely-incompetent managing of current affairs, it was a little hard for Ienzo to motivate himself to care. They could always talk afterward, after both their needs were sated. This was his first time like this in a body that felt like it should be, with a man he loved. It could wait.

Bertie’s nails dug into Ienzo’s side as the winged man began rocking his hips. Ienzo felt the movement stimulating his own arousal. It could really wait.

Feeling a little lax in the current proceedings, Ienzo firmed up his footing on the leg Bertie was rubbing against, and moved his hips in rhythm. His fingers found a place laced in Bertie’s hair. He tugged a bit to bring the other man’s mouth back to his own. He could hear Bertie’s muffled moans, but there was nothing to quiet Ienzo’s own. A mouth on his would suit both their purposes.

The kissing was more desperate now, and Bertie rocked faster. When Bertie’s fingers went back to circling and brushing Ienzo’s nipple, he was gone. Ienzo cried out, but Bertie’s lips dampened the sound. His whole body seized up, the intensity washing over him in a roiling wave of pleasure. The sensation was that of having touched a live wire, but one that did not burn or wound. It was another half a minute of rocking before Bertie reached his own peak. His smooth motions stuttered to a halt and he all but collapsed upon Ienzo. It was more weight than was comfortable, but Ienzo let him have a few moments to catch his breath and enjoy the white aftershocks of pleasure as he had.

“That was... unexpected,” Ienzo said, breathless, as he began to squirm a little. “Pleasantly so.” Taking the cue, Bertie pushed himself up and moved off to one side, still on his stomach. He left his wing to lie over Ienzo like a blanket.

Bertie let the silence stretch out for a long moment before he replied, “Oh... I think we might need new pants, though.”

Ienzo glanced down at his crotch. He couldn’t see any stain in the dark, but he could smell it. How unfortunate. He’s liked these pants, and the trousers for that matter. The thought is so absurd after what had just happened that Ienzo couldn’t help chuckling. Bertie joined him after a moment.

“And to think,” Ienzo said with a mischievous grin, “we aren’t even married yet.”

[(Anonymous)]

Jay and Di try to explain sex to Bertie. Using words (and diagrams) only.

[(Anonymous)]

Couple having sex, in their hobbit hole, as you do.

when suddenly a poor kid (or two) walks in on them.

The poor children's reactions can of course vary from screaming, cursing, slowly leaving the hobbit and never speaking of it again, to perhaps strongly worded post-it notes on the community boards.

[(Anonymous)]

This is not what she wanted. Presumably there is some great sin in her past which she is making up for. What little bit of her psyche is not desperately trying to unsee what she has just seen is suggesting that said great sin is "befriending Jay Zimin."

The amount of shrieking and babbling behind her indicates that it's probably not safe to turn around yet, but Ammond is not sure she ever wants to turn around again anyway so that's probably ok. "I do not understand what could possibly have been so pressing that you guys couldn't make it across the lawnring to his hive," she mutters into her hands, fully aware that her ears are probably bright yellow right to the tips. "It's right there, and it's not like you've got drones on you or anything."

"You couldn't have knocked, darling?" Jay demands from somewhere behind her, the first half-way coherent thing she's heard from either of them.

"It's my hive," she snaps in reply. "I don't knock when walking into my leisureblock."

She chances a look over her shoulder out of what has to be the worst kind of morbid curiosity, and is greeted by the sight of Dist desperately fishing for something which, apparently, has fallen over the back of the couch. Judging by the view, that something is his pants. Ammond briefly considers telekinetically retrieving the garment for him, and then decides that she has no particular interest in lifting the most metaphorical of fingers to preserve his dignity.

"Like, not even in the ablution chamber?" she adds, once again from the relative safety of her cupped hands. "Somewhere where anyone walking in wouldn't run into you? I could understand having sex in someone else's ablution chamber. Or, like, couldn't object to it without being a total hypocrite."

"Did she just -" Dist begins, sotto voice, and is cut off by an equally hushed, "I don't think I want to know," from Jay.

There's a long moment punctuated by muffled rustling and cursing from behind her, and then Jay speaks up again: "Ammond, is there a reason you're still standing there?"

"It's my hive," Ammond repeats, noting with some detachment the note of near-hysteria in her voice. "And can you really swear you guys won't just pick up where you left off if I leave?"

[(Anonymous)]

Mika/Hajime
He helps her remember mayfield with some special care

[(Anonymous)]

The Mayfield-Mika that Hajime had known had once promised to have him over for dinner. The other Mika, just as kind and warm and open, had made the same promise. And this time, she had followed through on it. He didn't need to eat, but he could eat if so inclined, and the purple and pink elk weren't bad. Neither was the after-dinner coffee that she had brewed. The conversation... that, maybe, was a little harder to digest. She was bright and open, and he was stiff and awkward. The air was thick with feelings, and he was terrible at those.

But he muddled through, as the chat went from subject to subject, and finally came to land on Mayfield. "...it wasn't all bad." He hadn't believed the words at first, when they tumbled out of his mouth. But there they were, now squatting uncomfortably in the middle of the conversation.

"It wasn't? Pshhh, you're pulling my leg, right? Most of these places, they're pretty bad." Mika wasn't sure that she was buying it, either.

Hajime stared into his coffee cup, frowned, and tried to think of how to put it. There were those feelings, again. Feelings that he had to try to put into words. But pictures, pictures were worth a thousand of those damned illusive things, weren't they? "Wait. Let me go get something."

Mika waited. Hajime ran home and ran back in no time at all. When he returned, a photo album was tucked under one arm. What made Mayfield bearable wasn't the town itself, but the residents. He had always taken pictures of things in an effort to understand them, the album was full to bursting with the results of those efforts. And what he had most wanted to understand were those other real and vital residents of the town.

The two settled in on Mika's couch, side by side, as he flipped through the pages and explained who was who and what was what. "Woah, is that a..."

"A pony?"

"Seriously! She looks just like... I mean..."

"Her name was Apple Bloom. She was the pet at our house. The town was full of them, though." And he turned the page to pictures of a unicorn with sharply-styled hair and diamonds on her flank, of another pony with hair like fluffy cotton candy tossing confetti this way and that.

"Looks like that's from some kind of party. Things got quiet enough to do that sort of thing...?" Mika asked the question cautiously, carefully. And Hajime nodded in confirmation.

"There was a pool party while I was there. And prom. These ones are from prom." He indicated the next page, and several more after that, a bit of pride in his tone. "They needed a photographer, so I volunteered." There were pictures and pictures of excited girls and nervous young men, of every shape and sort and species. And in the background of one picture, slightly out of focus but still quite clear, a glimpse of a fancily-dressed Mika, leaning a little forwards towards a refreshment table.

"Hey... hey, that's me, isn't it?" She lifted a hand, hesitated a moment, then pointed quickly and anxiously at it while looking up to Hajime. And then she cracked a smile and forced some pep into her voice. "What, no big pictures of me in your album?"

"Well... uh..." Hajime froze, tripping over his words. "You didn't ask me to take one. So I didn't. Not everyone likes having their picture taken...."

"Oh... oh yeah. I can see that...." Even all dolled up in a fancy dress with fancy hair, the Mika Whitepaws in that picture was not the happy and healthy and un-haunted Mika Whitepaws that once was. The her in that picture was a her that would have probably avoided the camera lens as much as possible. And now it meant no fun other-world prom pictures to look at. She sank back into the couch with sigh, ears drooping.

Now Hajime was even more convinced that he had done something wrong. And if he had done wrong, he had to make it right. He had to find the words to fix it. He had to figure out how to make Mika feel better. "Well... we did dance. A little." As he said it, he too began to settle back into the couch. That would fix it, yes?

No. Not really. It didn't seem to be the right thing to say at all, for Mika shrank back in a sort of shock. "S-seriously? We danced?!" She had danced with such a handsome young man? With a superhero?

His expression was wide-eyed and not the least bit sure, but Hajime nodded. "You... you seemed to want to. So I asked you. And it was... nice." The memory of it came to him easily. Maybe it was awkward, more shuffling slowly than practiced dance steps, but it had been fun. She had felt warm, and it had felt good to put his arms around her. And it had made her so happy, too. It had been very, very much the right thing, at the time. Maybe it was still the right thing. "...do you still like music?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. But..."

"We can dance again, then. If you want."

"But I..."

"I'm strong, I'll hold you up. You just have to pick the music."

"But, but..."

"You don't want to?"

And then words failed them both at the same time. Mika from how much Hajime seemed to know, Hajime from how much Mika seemed to fear it. She seemed ready to rise from the couch, but before she could do that, Hajime reached for her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. He had just wanted to calm her, for touch could be calming, couldn't it? But then it was a chain reaction, a chemical cascade, as Mika let out a hiccuping breath and grabbed for Hajime, hugging him tightly. A much bigger result than he had expected, and for a moment he had no idea what to do with himself. The conscious thought had to come to him, 'put your arms around her', and then he did so, carefully and no small amount awkwardly.

No, now wasn't the time for dancing. But this was fine, too. And it was something that he welcomed more practice at.