Requests: Open!

Omg XD I love this so much! Poor boys... 

. . . 

Eins

He’s just... confused. The point of you having your hands all over his chest is completely lost on Eins. But if his Master wants to touch him, even if it’s strange, he has no right to say no. You’re not hurting him and it doesn’t seem to be a punishment, so...? He’s completely oblivious to the fact that you’re doing it for the sake of the titty. Eins quickly gets used to your “strange” behavior, and before long, doesn’t even have a reaction to you coming up behind him and grabbing his pecs. However, your hands on him do feel strangely good... 

Siegblut

F

That kind of attention breaks through F's well-trained defenses frighteningly well. All of his flirting and lewd comments vanish when he's forced to look you in the eyes and hear so much praise, and the utter lack of lust in your words only makes it all hurt more. He wants to curl up and hide at the same time that he could soak up your affection forever, and the intense internal conflict results in F too paralyzed to do anything but stay still and take it.

Fal

Being cuddled up to you already has Fal off his guard. Your warmth forces his body to relax, and that turns out to be his undoing when the praise and kisses start. For once, he doesn't have the energy to muster up a polite, proper response like his usual means of escape. In no time, he's red up to his ears and trying to twist away from you— even sleep would be better than facing this, when the loving words make his heart pound.

Cutlery

That’s a pretty complicated subject for him. Love1 is used to keeping up a mask so he doesn’t get hurt, and that mask entails never admitting when he’s in pain— unless he can make a joke out of it. His suffering is never serious, you can never tell which of his emotions are real, and you’ll never see him without a wide, cheerful grin pushing away the rest of the world. It’s safer to approach things like that. It’s not safe to let people get close enough to know exactly how broken he really is. And having someone actively try to take care of him definitely crosses that line. If you’re babying him enough to pay attention to his pains and problems, you’ll be seeing way more than he ever wants you to. And as nice as care from his Master sounds, Love1 isn’t too eager to have his weaknesses drug out of him. 

Fal

The movie itself doesn’t really bother him... but jump scares are way too effective. If Fal’s paying attention and something jumps out at the viewers, he will flinch and tense up. The man is too stressed not to have a reaction to them. No matter how horrifying the content, he’s both aware that it’s just a movie and able to rationalize how fakey it is. And yes, he’s seen much, much worse. Horror movies can be enjoyable for him if they’re psychological, but the ones that rely on tension and jump scares aren’t good. 

Ghost

Surprisingly enough, he can get very invested in horror movies. If they have a compelling storyline and aren’t just cheap gore and scares, Ghost can greatly enjoy the morbid beauty of some genuinely fucked-up content. They don’t make him too nervous. Jump scares aren’t his favorite thing, but he’s still more likely to be actively fascinated by horror movies than afraid of them. Ghost enjoys the movies that you really have to sit down and think about; the darker and more disturbing, the better. 

Ninety

His reactions to horror movies fall somewhere in the middle. Ninety is affected by them, but he’s not terrified. That said, he doesn’t really enjoy them, either. Anything with a lot of blood and gore doesn’t sit well with him; it’s too similar to the reality he’s lived. Ninety is content to curl up beside you or in your lap while you watch just about anything, though. So long as you’re happy with him for it, he’ll sit through whatever movies you find fitting... even if he is shaking anxiously the whole time. 

Eins

Honestly, nothing really bothers him. Eins has seen so much shit in his life that a horror movie barely registers. He understands that it’s not real, so it does basically nothing to him. The other issue is that he has serious trouble getting emotionally invested or relating to the protagonists in any way. It’s moments like these when Eins’s empathy issues shine through... and when you realize all over again that he’s been through some horrible things. Yes, he makes commentary on how accurate the gore is. 

Mauser

Just like Michael one on AO3(it was so sweet) , if it's alright with you

Oooooh, fun, fun~ >:3c I don’t whether you mean Love1 or Like2, but since this is a delightful prompt, I’ll break my usual character limit and do both. 

. . . 

F

You’re seeing too much. That’s all that F can think. It’s just a bath. You haven’t touched him in that way yet, and he’s been starting to think that you might not do so at all, but it’s still... 

Too much. 

He’s stripped bare, every scar on full display. Your gentle hand rests against his back, mercifully in a place that isn’t marred. 

“Thank you, Master,” F says once you’ve helped him lower himself into the steaming water. He makes his eyes go lidded and smiles in a way that he knows comes across as inviting. It’s trained into him at this point. Not being what he’s supposed to be isn’t safe. 

But instead of following that invitation, you ask if you can wash his hair. His body shivers in what might be an aborted flinch. 

He agrees. What choice does he have?

And then, your fingers are finding his scalp; combing through his hair so, so tenderly. F has to stop himself from biting down on a pornographic moan. It’s humiliating, but what’s expected of him, but just the same, he hates that it isn’t just another part of the act. 

Nothing hurts like this. With your fingers in his hair, your soft voice reassuring him that he’s safe, and hot water easing the ache from every old wound, pain feels, for once, far away. 

F’s head ducks. He can’t look at you. He should be grateful, not panicking because Master decided to be nice to him. 

What a ruined, fucked-up thing he is. 

Ghost

Ghost’s skin is so sensitive it almost hurts. It’s normally not like this. For some reason, it’s only now that his Master is handling him that everything is much, much too tender to bear. 

He’s helpless. You’re bathing him because he can’t do it for himself, and the attention is destroying him from the inside out. 

Fingers drag through his hair, massaging in shampoo that smells like you. Ghost sits there and bites his lip to keep from making a sound. He doesn’t want to ruin this, not while it feels so good. You’re touching him. It’s a privilege he can’t let himself lose. 

“Does this feel okay?” you ask when you bring a washcloth to the back of his neck and lightly scrub. His whole body shakes. 

Ghost can only nod. 

You hum low and under your breath. Ghost thinks of what you’re seeing; a forgotten, aborted weapon who even now is good for nothing but making you go out of your way to take care of it. He wants this more than anything, but— wanting is bad, and he can’t take too much. 

The washcloth slips under his chin, and Ghost nuzzles into it on reflex because it’s your hand behind the fabric. His face burns, but he’s too far gone for shame. Only terrified need remains. 

When he looks at you through lidded, hazy eyes, your expression is tender. His wet hair drips into his face. The water is so, so warm. Can this last? Could a bath go on forever? Ghost knows he’s pathetic, but this is the most attention he’s had in so, so long. 

Love1

His body hurts. That’s just a fact of life. 

Even when Love1 is more fucked up and useless than normal, he doesn’t get a break. He’s used to it, so why waste the time? What’s supposed to happen is that he’s left to figure himself out. 

What’s not supposed to happen is this; sitting in a steaming bath that’s sapping away every ache while his Master fusses over him. 

You’re wiping dried blood off of his face. Love1 tried to joke it all away for all of five minutes before the attention got to be too much. Your face is so close to his. The attention is suffocating. How’s a guy meant to keep it together when the reason for his existence is treating him so softly, huh?

So Love1 sits there and tries to stay calm. This is fine. You’re not hurting him, so this is fine. Never mind that he’s starting to feel floaty and strange from all the touching. 

“Can I wash your hair?” you ask. 

“Y-Yeah. Go for it,” he tries to grin. It feels crooked and too weak. 

Things that should hurt don’t. There’s no source of pain to ground him. The hot bath and his Master’s touch are taking it all away. 

Why are you wasting your time? There are better weapons than him. You could have anyone else to spoil, not a gangly, scrawny, broken wreck of a man who can barely function on his own. 

His Master’s tender expression is making it hard to breathe. Love1 isn’t used to this, and that’s what makes it all the easier to drown. 

Like2

He’s always wanted to be spoiled. Now that he actually has it, Like2 doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. 

You had to help him into the bath. His scars and body were on display for you. Normally, this would be a chance to appeal to his Master in that way. This time, it just made him feel much too helpless and small. 

Now, Like2 is in a bathtub full of raspberry-scented bubbles. You’re combing your fingers through his hair, working out tangles, and he can barely fucking breathe. It’s not just the wounds. His Master’s attention is all on him for what might be the first time, and—

This is what spoiling feels like. This is what it’s like to be wanted. 

He’s a whiny brat with a short temper and no self-control. All he’s good for is being a pretty hole to fuck. That’s what he’s used to. 

But instead, you have him in a hot bath, have gentle hands in his hair, taking care of him when he can’t do it for himself, and seem to expect nothing in return. Like2 has a lump in his throat and something hot and desperate in his lungs. 

He’s praying that he doesn’t embarrass himself. As it is, he feels dangerously close to crying. He wants to see your face. 

“M-Master...” It slips out against Like2’s will. 

“Yeah? I’m not pulling, am I?”

“N-No!” His voice is dangerously close to a squeak. “Um, I-I... Thank you...” It’s the only way he can voice it; how grateful he is. 

Belga

Belga hates every part of this. He has to ‘take it easy’, not fight, and not even run around. Instead of making him work through being hurt, you’re insisting on babying him. As if he needs it. 

And... he’s small enough that you’ve taken to carrying him around like a child. It’s to make things easier, you say, but all it does is make Belga feel much too small and weak. And he’ll never admit to the moments where he’s hurt enough to snuggle into your chest in search of comfort. 

This time, you lower him into the weirdly warm bath with so much care it’s uncomfortable to withstand. 

The water isn’t scalding. He’d almost assumed you were going to punish him for his uselessness that way. But no. It’s just warm and nice, and Belga has no fucking clue how to respond. 

It hurts just to try to move. 

“Stay still,” you tell him when he squirms. “I’ll take care of you for now, okay? Just let me.”

Your voice makes Belga have to bite his lip. He feels like he’s holding back tears, which is weird and uncomfortable and stupid. He’s never been like this before. He’s never felt weaker. 

Being taken care of like this doesn’t make any sense. Belga sniffles. He kind of wishes you were holding him again, if only so he could hide his face. The lingering pain in his body barely matters compared to the weird, overwhelmed feeling grabbing at his chest. 

Kirsch’s small body fits in your lap perfectly. He’s not as tiny as some of the others, but he’s still little enough to snuggle up to his Master just right. 

Your arms wrap around his waist and pull him closer. Kirsch’s heart pounds at the inside of his ribs rapid-fire. No matter how many times it happens, he never quite gets used to the easy way you give affection. 

“My little sweetheart,” you grin, and scoot him around to face you. 

Before Kirsch has a chance to get even a full word out, you kiss his nose. Then his cheek, then the other side, then more— all in time with big, exaggerated mwah sort of sounds that tickle his skin with your voice. 

Kirsch squeaks. His body doesn’t know whether to lean into the sweet, sweet attention or scramble away, but you don’t give him any choice. The kisses continue, one after another, and Kirsch is laughing with delight as it just doesn’t stop. 

You’re laughing too. Where your arms are wrapped around his waist, your fingers poke ticklishly at his ribs— and Kirsch utterly squeals. Between the kisses still showering his face and that, he can’t hold back. 

He’s squirming in your lap, laughing so hard he can hardly find his breath, and squealing helplessly under the flurry of sensation. 

Forget pounding. Right now, his heart could explode from this overwhelming joy alone. 

There’s no way to even beg. He can’t get words out past the squeaking, breath-stealing laughter. His helpless wriggling gets him nowhere. Your fingers slip under his shirt to tickle his stomach instead, and the endless barrage of kisses still hasn’t stopped. 

That’s quite possibly one of the nicest things you can do for him. Even though Mikhael prefers being the one to play the music, having his Master care that much about the one thing that makes him even want to be alive is kind of staggering. Before you, his music was something he had to make excuses for. It was something that got in the way of what he was supposed to be doing. No one ever treated it like something worth encouraging. 

Like, while talking with somebody their nail scrape their master's face (somewhere they can see on daily basis) a little due to some hand movement.

Punishment is up to you, it can be a light or a heavy one.

Herme

While he outwardly recovers quickly, internally, Herme is bracing for the worst. He’s good at covering up his panic with smooth words and quick reparations for his mistake, but he still knows that there will be consequences. Of course, he’ll assure you that it was merely an accident. He was being too animated in his speech, and he’ll be very, very careful to be more perceptive in the future. It’s all damage-control. Herme keeps it together on the outside just fine. He almost seems unaffected. But when you punish him, be it by a strike to the face to match or something worse, he can’t help but internally curse himself for such a stupid mistake. 

Siegblut

He would, but the reasons why get disturbing real fast. F's body is covered all over in scars from the horrible, painful things people have done to him. They're visible reminders of exactly what he's good for, and he hates them. The scars make him feel out of place in his own skin, like his body isn't really his after everything that's been inflicted on it, and the ugly, brutal appearance of them is a little too fitting to show how pain and pleasure have gotten all scrambled up in his head beyond any repair.