Neon's Fluffy Stories

[Neon]

All the fluffy crap I've written.
It may give you dibeetus.

[Neon]

Prompt - First Kiss


At only 26, Eryk Jashin felt ancient next to his betrothed. He knew that where his match came from, people wed early since their lifespans were comparable to companion animals, but it still felt a little ridiculous to him that his bride had been married and widowed all before today - "her" 17th birthday.

It was that - and not the fact that clearly "Vladia" was a man very cleverly (and easily, by the gods how easily and beautifully) disguised as a woman - that prevented him from kissing the youth at their wedding. He had only met 'Vladia' that morning, and knew irrevocably that he/"she" was the one, and only one, with whom he would ever share his heart, and not merely his bed. In fact, he surprised himself at the realization that he would greatly prefer it if his bride felt the same way before they became intimate.

That night, the beautiful, snow coloured young man (still dressed otherwise in a ghastly pink nightgown which bore far, far more than it hid) entered their now shared bedchambers. The anxiety the youth felt hung in the air almost palpably and Eryk, who had not once in his life felt pity for his fellow beings, hurt deeply for his bride.

He immediately puzzled out that the sweet creature had been abused severely and routinely as he took in the poorly hidden bruising on his face and similarly "covered" (by makeup that was nowhere close to being pale enough) mass of perfectly circular scars - cigarrete burns - covering his stomach. Judging by the sheer terror in those beautiful, now swollen and tearful red eyes, Eryk knew his young bride had also almost certainly been told by his very domineering, nay intimidating, father and brother exactly what was to be expected, and that he was not to attempt to ward it off (Gods help him if he couldn't convince his allegedly straight husband to pitch for the other team). Eryk suspected that his bride had also been sexually abused from the jealous looks his new brother-in-law had been shooting the couple at the ceremony, not to mention the hungry looks he had given the bride throughout the entire day, looks that were absolutely not of normal fraternal affection.

Baring all of this in mind (and making a note to mercilessly slaughter his in-laws) Eryk stood, slowly as to not frighten the lovely young man, and began to do the opposite of what was expected of a groom on his wedding night - he began putting clothes on, much to the great shock of his trembling bride. First, thick undergarments to cover his manhood (though he noted with as much amusement as he could feel through the seething rage at his precious bride's mistreatment that he had been "checked out;" the blush that quickly disappeared from "Vladia's" face had meant his approval, much to the egocentric king's delight), next a pair of fluffy black pyjama pants. "Vladia's" eyes never once left him, watching his actions as a cornered animal watches its predator's.

"Calm down, Snowflake. I won't harm you," Eryk murmured soothingly, again using those slow, nonthreatening motions and sitting at the opposite end of the bed from the youth, who very gingerly approached, twirling a long lock of beautiful white hair nervously around a pale, slender finger, and he sat down. Then he spoke the first words Eryk had heard from him, a nearly silent but utterly beautiful, "I'm sorry, your majesty." There was a relatively thick accent, and the words were obviously carefully thought over before they were said, denoting that the young man had only recently picked up English, and that i
his lingual skills clearly weren't exempt from his natural skittish self-consciousness.

Eryk stared for a moment, taking in the tone and timber of his bride's voice before gently smiling. "Don't be. It certainly wasn't your choice to attempt to deceive me, Snowflake. Now..." he continued very delicately, "what's your real name? I would guess Vladimir?" His green eyes lit up delightedly as they met red ones as the formerly-young-woman nodded.

Eryk chuckled. "Well, I certainly like that much more. ...Now, lets get you out of that ghastly lingerie and into some nice, comfy pants, shall we?" He walked carefully around the bed, very wary of making any sudden movements that may frighten his bride as he found a simple pair of fuzzy red pyjama pants, bringing them out to Vladimir.

"These may be a touch short... okay probably a lot short, but they should fit around you." He said, turning so the youth might change more comfortably. The soft sounds that came from behind him spoke of the eagerness Vladimir felt at doing so.

"Thank you, majesty," came the soft voice that alerted Eryk to the presentableness of his young mate, and he turned with a small smile, which immediately became a look of delighted shock at the young man.

He was beautiful. Even more so than when he had been dressed and made up into a woman. His lithe body of sinuously muscled snowy skin was a site that would forever take Eryk's breath away, and certainly caused a small heart attack this first time. He could not control it when he blurted out, very emphatically, "sweet Hades you are beautiful."

This was the first time Vladimir had been so complimented. Normally he was called "sexy," or "feminine," or the dreaded "gorgeous." This was a very surprising, embarrassing, yet welcome change, and he was quickly blushing, bright red matching his shocking eyes, and muttering a very shaky "thank you, your majesty."

Eryk cursed inwardly, stepping tentatively closer. "Just Eryk, Snowflake," he whispered, very slowly extending a hand to brush that heavenly long hair behind a burning red ear. Vladimir had been a wounded animal from the moment he had stepped foot in Eryk's kingdom, so the shock was audible when he leaned into the extended palm, seeming to instinctually trust the owner who had been so gentle to him to this point, even in spite of knowing his secrets. Vlad smiled ever so slightly, pressing an almost impossibly tender kiss into Eryk's palm, and murmuring, "thank you then, Eryk..."

Eryk grinned, wondering blissfully when he would wake up from this impossible dream. He stepped closer bit by bit until he was close enough to take his beautiful bride in a warm embrace. "You are most certainly welcome, my Snowflake. Now... shall we get to sleep?" He asked, very well aware that using the phrase "get to bed" might easily imply things that would spook his new love, undoing what he had been spending all this last while building.

The taller, younger man nodded shyly, and allowed himself to be led into the vast bed, slipping gracefully under the blankets and ever so carefully nestling into the arms of his new husband. He smiled softly and reached up to press a kiss on his cheek, and was surprised when Eryk accidentally turned, likely to tell him something, directing the kiss to his lips instead. Vlad almost panicked, but then realized that he had enjoyed it, and deeply appreciated the look of shock and slight fear on the elder's face.

"Vladimir I'm so sorry I didn't mean-" Eryk began to stutter out before the softest of giggles stopped him, and the smile his beloved Vladimir wore melted him.

"I think... I like to try again, properly." He whispered, reaching up once again, dreamily content at the delightfully warm feeling of his new husband's lips against his as he began to drift into dreamland.

It was his first kiss, and he would forever hold firm to the belief that it was his favourite as well, and Eryk would reluctantly, though very happily, agree.

[Neon]

PROMPT - NIGHTMARES

Screaming and crying never once spared him from the pain. His brother was deaf to his pleas, yet took any moment silence for consent, and refused to let the younger lad go once he got in one of his moods.

Vlad suffered. Those two words describe perfectly the young Basilisk's upbringing and adolescence. Vlad suffered.

Nicholas - his older and only brother - was the heir to the throne, and Darius - his father and king of their clan and kingdom - didn't give a shit about his younger, effeminate offspring. Hell, he had killed the boy's mother for baring him after they had been found trying to escape.

Nicholas had intervened, had spared Vlad's life, and therefore felt justified in taking whatever he wanted, including and especially the boy's virginity at the tender age of thirteen. He decided he rather liked the taste of this forbidden fruit, and so almost nightly after he partook. Tonight was apparently another such night.

Vladimir was a caged animal almost literally. He had no escape, and he was less than human. At least, that was what he had always been taught from the moment he started being force-fed poisons to change his body and blood at two years old, till now as Nico locked the door. There was no escape, and no amount of tears or fighting would save him.

Nico came closer and put the cigarette out on the boy's stomach - another nightly ritual - before starting to strip. Something in his glassy, drunken, hungry eyes told Vlad it was not going to be a gentle night, and the trembling began.

Nico neared him, and he heard, very softly, "snowflake, my snowflake..."

That wasn't right...
Nico didn't speak english to him...

The older man moved closer, reaching at his pants. He was fumbling, cursing at the buttons that seperated him from being skin on skin with his dearest brother, and harshly biting whatever skin was available to him and drinking in the pained whimpers this elicited.

"Snowflake..."

Now they were both naked, and the true fear began. Vladimir was the closest thing Nico had to religion, and he was an extremist. He was biting and clawing, grinding harshly against the unwilling youth, pretending that Vladimir was just as hard for him, yet not really caring that he wasn't. Vlad, for his part, just took it, knowing that a scream would be rewarded with a harsh slap, that trying to push away would result in immediate penetration, and that any attempt at fighting back would be viewed as consent in Nico's twisted, violent view of sex.

"Snowflake."

At first, not having fingers shoved into his mouth was a welcome sign that perhaps the grinding was as much as Nico needed tonight. It almost immediately became clear that he was wrong, and he had absolutely no time to react before he was slammed by the searing pain of Nicholas pushing harshly into him, completely unprepared. He couldn't hold back a scream and knew that he had been torn, was probably bleeding terribly, and wouldn't be able to sit right for a very long time. That scream sent his brother over the edge, and soon his red blood was mixed with a somehow much less pleasant white.

"SNOWFLAKE"

Vladimir awoke with a violent start, trembling and soaked in his own tears, strong arms helping him sit against a tanned chest, soft strands of mahogany caressing his forehead as his newly wedded husband slowly rocked him. Vladimir's vision was so clouded by tears,he didn't see how very red his husband of less than a day's skin was becoming.

"It's alright, my Snowflake. It was just a nightmare. Shh..."

Vlad couldn't even respond in English, mumbling frightened and halting explanations in Astrian, his native tongue all he could remember at this point. Eryk didn't seem to care, merely listening and rocking him still, despite the burning pain.

"That sounds very scary. I'm so sorry. I'm here. You are safe." He assured the shaking, sobbing man he held so tightly. He hadn't understood most of what had been said, but it mattered little. His rage and hatred grew at what words he had recognized ("Nico," "sex," "no," and several words for "hurt") painted a very clear, brutal picture, and he swore very painful and utterly unmerciful revenge on behalf of hos beloved.

For now, though, he had a much more important issue. His bride was hurting, and he could not have that.

An hour passed entirely made of softly murmured comforts, the moon the only witness to these gentle actions, and Vlad appeared to be calming down. He was soon lucid enough to thank Eryk in thick, halting English. His husband slowly laid them down again, still holding the pale man very tightly. In the morning Vlad would learn how badly he had accidentally burned Eryk in his fright, but still Eryk had held tight, refusing to let go of his shaking beloved. He knew he wohld never completely get over the intense guilt he felt over it, in spite of Eryk's constant reassurance. He was very, very careful from then on to pay more attention to his husband when he awoke.

In spite of everyrhing, while it was not his last nightmare, it was the last time he feared sleeping for them. He was safe now, and never again would he dread sleeping in the arms of his husband.

[Neon]

Prompt - Dark Secret


Eryk knew something was going on. Vlad had disappeared in the morning, some time after the nightmare, and he couldn’t find the youth anywhere. He was quickly growing more and more worried, prepared to storm the inn where the boy’s sick family resided till the next day, when he heard a very quiet sob. It had come from a bathroom on the other side of the large palace from his room, and Eryk was immediately worried something had happened. He sprinted towards the source and heard a faucet running, though no more sobs.

He found the door and knocked.
“Snowflake? Is that you? Are you okay?” He asked, pressing an ear to the door, desperate for a sign that his beloved bride was not hurt.

There was a pause before Vlad’s soft voice came through the locked door. “I am fine. Sorry to be worry you,” he mumbled, and there was a soft clattering and the faucet turned off. There was more silence and then the lock was turned. Eryk stepped back, face still full of worry.

Vlad stepped out, looking bad. He had been crying and his eyes were dull. He had changed into a deep red long sleeved shirt and black pants, though Eryk hadn’t a clue where he had got them. Vlad had braided his incredibly long hair intricately, and now it was in a very fancy ponytail, but that was probably the best thing about him.

“Are you okay?” He repeated, looking his wife (since he thought of him as a bride, Wife was the next logical step) over top to bottom. It all seemed fine, which brought a great deal of relief.

“I am,” was the soft reply, the tall young man curling in on himself slightly, not making even an attempt at eye contact.

Eryk cupped his face gently, wiping away tear-stains.

“You don’t look very fine… but I will trust you. Are you hungry?” He asked. Vlad merely nodded.

Eryk gently grabbed Vladimir’s wrist to lead him down, and almost didn’t notice the near silent hiss, the ever so slight recoil. He turned back and Vlad’s face filled with pain and shame and all other sorts of heartbreaking expressions.

“Vladimir…Snowflake… you didn’t… tell me you didn’t…” Eryk whispered, taking Vlad’s hands so very gently and carefully rolling a sleeve down.

Blood.

He looked at the other wrist.

More blood.

So much blood it made his heart stop. His initial reaction was anger, but he managed to miraculously quell it before it surfaced, replacing it with intense worry.

“Vladimir. Look at me Vlad,” he said, trying to catch the eyes of the younger man, who was trying his best to avoid just that. He settled for staring at the ground. Eryk decided it was good enough.

“Vlad… did you… do this to yourself?” He queried, both knowing and fearing that the answer was yes. A short nod confirmed it, breaking his heart.

“May I have your knife, Vlad?” He asked quietly. The young man pulled his hands away and fished in a pocket a moment before pulling out not a knife, but a very sharp sewing needle. Eryk cringed, imagining how badly it must hurt. He gingerly took it and put it into his pocket. Vlad shifted slightly, mumbling,
“I have more… I sew. Make clothes.” Well, it certainly explained where the things he was wearing came from. But it still hurt.

“…it’s brave of you to admit that,” Eryk said, gently leading Vlad back to his.. no, their, room. He sat the youth down on the bed and fetched washcloths and bandages.

When he came back, Vlad was silently crying, gazing at the floor again. Eryk couldn’t imagine what could have driven such a kind, gentle soul to hurt himself so terribly, but he remained quiet, wiping away the tears and blood, revealing wrists littered with scars he had not noticed the night before. Again, he was quiet as he bandaged the youth’s wrists. Vlad spoke up again, voice trembling and words thickly accented, halting:
“…my legs. I hurt them.”

Eryk had felt it could not get worse and now this. He nodded and gently helped scoot Vlad out of his pants, seeing much, much more of that horrible crimson. It was all Eryk could do not to shout, to weep, to somehow react violently to this, but he settled with a sharp huff, gently cleaning and bandaging those wounds in turn.

Vlad just sat there with dead eyes, brimming with tears. Eryk could only just sit by him holding his bloody rags.
It was a long time before either of them spoke. Vladimir with, “I’m sorry,” and Eryk broke down in tears.

“Why?!” He demanded, causing a terrified reaction from his wife. He immediately regretted the harsh tone as he registered the fear on Vlad’s face. He reached to hold him and apologize, but his actions were met with Vlad scooting away, hands up defensively and bracing for impact.

Eryk was furious now. Not at his Snowflake, never at him. No, his wrath was focused intently on those who had made him this way. He would kill them all, slowly, painfully, utterly unmercifully. But now he had to fix what he had just done.

“I am so sorry, darling. I did not mean to frighten you. Please come here and let me hold you as a good husband should. I won’t hurt you. I will never hurt you. I would die painfully before I intentionally inflict any sort of hurt on you. I’m sorry. Please…” he whispered, worried he would speak too loud.

Vladimir gazed at him several agonizingly long moments before coming over and cautiously sitting on Eryk’s lap, resting against the elder’s chest, crying still, but no longer afraid to hide it. Eryk gently pulled the boy close against him, nuzzling gently and willing to stay that way as long as his beautiful hurting wife wanted.

“…it gives me control. I hurt me because I am in control. It is not Nico or papa hurt me. It is me, my choice. The hurt is good for crying, and blood remind me of my life. If I bleed I live. Not dead yet. Papa hurt me bad enough I wish dead, I bleed. Not dead yet. Nico sex hurt. I bleed. Not dead yet. Wish sometime I am dead. But I bleed. Not dead… Today, scare I am dead. I bleed. Good not dead now…” Vlad tried to explain, cursing at his inability to speak this language well enough to convey the depths of his pain, the reasons he cut himself. But that was as close as he could get. It seemed to be enough because his husband nodded in understanding, though still clearly not.

Eryk was in shock. He had guessed that Vlad was abused, and this confirmed it. His home must have been Hell on earth, and Vladimir was an angel suffering the tempers of demons. He rocked the young man gently.

“I am so sorry you are hurting, Snowflake. I promise I will never let them hurt you anymore. You are in complete control now. They don’t matter,” he whispered, placing a tender kiss upon his wife’s cheek, and yet what was meant to comfort elicited a flood of new tears.

Vlad was not sad. Well, he was, but that was not why he was crying now. No, he could not hold back the river because in all his memory, he had never been touched so very gently.

He could physically feel a piece of his broken spirit mend itself at the gesture, and he could not help the emotions that filled him to literally bursting. He blubbered trying to explain, but gave up when the words failed, and merely sank back into his husband, who was rubbing his back with that same gentle touch that caused his tears. Vlad felt very strongly, and managed to find his words this time.

“I love you.”

Eryk froze, staring at the precious life in his arms. He smiled, pulling Vlad as close as he could and whispering into the youth’s ear,
“te iubesc”

Vlad stared at him in wonder. Eryk smiled almost apologetically.
“I started studying a week ago when our… arrangements were made. I wanted to make you feel at home, but I’m afraid I don’t know much. But I do know all I need for now…”

He leaned in again and oh so gently pressed a kiss to his so very beloved Snowflake’s lips, moving against them to purr, “Te voi iubi pentru totdeauna”

Vlad looked quite surprised, but gave Eryk a smile that melted his heart.
“pentru totdeauna?”

Eryk grinned and let his lips and hands answer for him.

They made an agreement. When Vladimir felt the urge to hurt himself, he would find Eryk and tell him. Eryk would make sure he knew he was alive, and remind him of all the good things that entailed. Both found it to be quite agreeable, and eventually Vlad began to seek out affection not just to help him not hurt himself, but because he merely desired the other’s company and attention, and it made his partner joyful.