#have that decadent bubble bath

[doctorbeth]

Scooby Doo circa 1979

This poor pup, at the age of 44, was nearly decapitated sometime in those four plus decades.

His person didn't remember if it was a fight with another dog or something else, but she found him stored like this among her mother's things, and wanted to see about making him feel better. In addition to the neck wound, he was missing a spot on the back, needed some eye touchup... and we were planning a spa for him.

Here he is in his bubble bath:

I don't know about you, but I can see his Scooby grin (which is actually missing) forming under the bubbles in that photo. I think it's one of my favorite spa pics. Anyway, here's his heart being made and installed.

Next his internal wire supports were straightened and reinstalled, and his neck injury was treated. That's when I figured out he once had a collar, because a stub of it was clinging to the inside of his neck. So I spoke with his person and we planned a new collar. These were the felt options, based on illustrations of Scooby from that era (the stub of collar was so faded, it was hard to tell the original color).

The plan was just to do a collar, maybe with a blank diamond hanging from it as I couldn't exactly replicate a machine embroidered tag (or the images of Scooby's tags online). But it was the weekend, and we let Scooby rest and while he was resting and I was busy doing other things, I had an idea of how to make his tag! So I made a tag with the collar, attached it, and sent photos. I told his person if she didn't like it, it was easy to go back to a plain gold diamond:

But she loved it! So we kept the SD tag and next was his new felt spot on his back to replace the missing one, and a new smile. Based on the stitches on his fur, it was hard to tell what his original smile looked like, so I sent a sketch with some example options:

His person chose the center one, but said thick yarn maybe? I knew it couldn't have been thick yarn originally. There would have been larger holes. But based on all his felt parts, thought maybe it was felt, so that's what we agreed to do. Soon, Scooby was smiling again and ready to fly home:

His person wrote "he looks brand new, wow I cannot thank you enough! Thank you so much!! He looks amazing!"

and when he got home, she added:

"He is home!!! He smells like my mom, I know you bathed him and cleaned him I don’t know how he does but that is the only thing I have now that smells like her. Thank you so so much!!!"

(that's the heart of original stuffing holding the scent. :-))

#stuffed animal repair #stuffed animal hospital #stuffed animals #scooby doo #scooby #scooby plush #scooby doo plush #scooby doo stuffed animal #dog #toy dog #stuffed dog #stuffed animal cleaning

[maxidentscene]

healing

⚘ genre. fluff, comfort

⚘ members. ot8

⚘ synopsis. skz taking care of you after a hard day

chan gets you tucked into bed

As soon as you walked into the apartment, your heavy bags hit the tiled floor and disrupted the music coming from Chan’s room. He came prancing out, smile wide until he caught sight of the miserable look on your face

“What has you so sad, my baby?” He frowns, cupping your cheeks with his rough palms before bringing one to the back of your head, pushing you forward into his arms. “Do you wanna go out? I’ll treat you to dinner, we can go on a walk or go shopping, whatever you want.”

“I don’t wanna do much else today,” you mumbled into his shoulder, letting all of the tension today has brought leave your body. Now that you were in your safe spot, you could finally relax

He felt the way you melted and only nodded in response, awkwardly shuffling you to his room, giggling in the process at the way you refused to let go of him. Once you reached the foot of his bed, he gently pushed you down before fluffing up all of your pillows and tucking the fluffiest of blankets under your body

“This better?” His smile deepened when you nodded contently. Leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, he left you to nap while he got back to what he was doing

lee know is quick to run you a bath

Minho disappears from your room without much of a word after you open up to him about how your day has went, and at first you felt a little offended. Then you were reminded of how warm and considerate he is when you heard the faucet creak on, the sound of water filling the bath

Once he’s back, he reaches a hand out for you to take. “There aren’t any bubbles but I dug out a bath bomb.” He leads you to the bathroom, giggling a bit to himself. “I think it’s a few decades old, though.”

The face you make at him pulls out a louder laugh and you feel your heart already getting lighter. Finally, the gentle heat hits your face as you enter the bathroom and you can’t help but get emotional

He’s quick to reciprocate when you wrap a lazy arm around his form, nuzzling your cheek into the material of his sweater. The two of you stay like that for a moment, basking in the fruity but peculiar scent of the exploded bath bomb in the water. “Thank you. What are you gonna do?”

“Look for an online shop and find some bath bombs that aren’t expired,” he huffs seriously, making your face light up with giggles

changbin offers the warmest of cuddles

Seeing you with a sad pout on your face has him thrown in a loop, his brain is scrambling for the perfect remedy. Finally, he settles with pulling you to the couch for a nice, long, well deserved cuddle sesh

“You’re all good here now,” he urges you to calm down, let your body mold on top of his as he runs a hand down your back. The scent of his cologne was wearing off but it still smelt so strong when you were in his arms like this. It was your favorite scent in the world

Bin smiled at the way you nuzzled yourself into him, a hand coming up to massage the back of your neck. It felt good to have someone to nurture and care for, he’s a natural giver and nothing makes his heart happier than helping you unwind after such a harsh week

“You smell good,” you sighed out, accepting defeat and letting your body rest onto his, planting your aching head into the crook of his neck and breathing him in. The long days felt doable if this is what you get to come home to

His chest moved with a hearty laugh, your head bobbing up with it. “I can’t stink in front of you!”

hyunjin cooks up your favorite meal

As soon as Hyune received a text from you saying that you’d be staying late, he got busy. He’s very observant and has caught on days ago that you were absolutely swamped with work and he finally gathered the ingredients to make you the most perfect dinner

This was something that he had planned out slowly but surely, wanting to get every detail right. If there was one thing that could throw Hyunjin off, it would be the fact that you were in a bad headspace. He just could not stand it

Determined to lighten you up a bit, he decided to do something special. Running around the kitchen left and right had proved to be quite the workout for him and he lost track of time

So, when you walked in only to be greeted with a sweet boyfriend who had stains all over his apron and his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, he was shocked to say the least. Your body went on autopilot and dropped your keys to the counter, not caring about how he looked a bit like a mad scientist. “You didn’t have to do all of this,” you wrapped tired arms around him

A hand came up to stroke your head, you could feel his lips forming a smile against your neck. “Just sit down and eat,” he placed a kiss before playfully pushing you to your seat at the table

han plans the perfect movie date

He knows how slumps are, he knows how exhausting life can be and he always wished that he had someone to hold him when times were rough. When you came along, he found what he had been dreaming of and he wanted to reciprocate this warm feeling, so a movie date scheduled outside seemed like the perfect fix for your busy life lately

Like the genius he is, Jisung kept strict track of your work schedules and asked you to come over on the one day you had open. From there, he bought blankets and candles and gathered a projector screen from the company

You were more than surprised to find the cutest set up ever. Blankets and pillows scattered in the grass, candles lit to keep the bugs away, a fire on the side and a projector ready to go with a movie the two of you had been wanting to see

“Do you like it?” He asked with a nervous bite to his lip, sprawled out on the fluffy pillows with his hand stuffed in a bag of jellies. The effort that all of this took had your bottom lip quivering and you could only plop down right next to him, letting him secure his arms around you

You felt so lucky to be loved by someone as thoughtful as him. Han had a magic touch to him, it was impossible to not adore him

felix offers up a famous massage

Just like every other day, Felix is waiting on the other side of the door like a puppy ready to greet it’s owner, eyes scanning and heart beating with anticipation for the door to fly open. He’s eager to hear your laugh and see the warm smile on your lips, eager to give you a kiss and help you settle, eager to have the company of his favorite person back

But, everyone has bad days. You weren’t laughing and you weren’t smiling, the exhaustion was practically radiating off of you, and he wrapped his arms around you immediately. The first thing he noticed was how awfully tense your shoulders were, and that couldn’t slip past Lee Felix ever

“Hey,” he ran a hand down your back before letting go and gracing you with a gentle smile. “How about you go change into those comfy pants you like and lay down for me?”

You already knew he was planning out the best massage of a lifetime and you were far from disappointed, nodding your tired head and doing exactly as you were told. The room enveloped you in warmth and your bed caught your harsh fall as you flopped forward once changed

His gentle, small hands were on your shoulders instantly. Every rub and knead at your muscles helped you slip into a sleepy haze, mind finally at ease and guard down. This was your happy place, Felix worked wonders with his hands and you now understood why the team would never shut up about his massage skills

seungmin sits and listens to your worries

As always, Seungmin is an advocate for communication. He encourages you to talk about the things that make you happy or upset and listens with open ears. The current moment is no different as he sits you in his lap, resting his cheek against your shoulder as you melt into his hold and let everything out

“Everything about today was exhausting,” you cover your face with your hands and he sits with patience, fingers playing with your clothes and heart steadily beating against your back. “Just glad that I have someone like you to come home to.”

That comment fills Seungmin up with pride, a smile so wide on his face that his cheeks hurt. All he has ever wanted was to become the safest space for the one he loves, he wanted to tend to your needs unlike anyone else who has done so before

You go on about the little things that added to your poor mood and he hums in response, the soft scent of his shampoo dissipating every negative feeling in your body. You become silent and it hits you that he smells like home, comfort, and warmth. He feels like security, he is love itself

Leaning behind you, you plant the smallest kiss on his cheek as a silent thanks. He reciprocates with one of his own, sliding a hand up your back and bringing it back down

jeongin plans a small but powerful gesture

It was no secret that the last few days have been rough on you, work and social life both beating you down at once. Jeongin would sit in bed with you and listen to your venting, his heart heavy with want and need to help you feel better. Alas, a lightbulb went off and a plan began formulating in his head after almost a week of stressful days

Without you knowing, your boyfriend had picked up a few items from a few different store outlets, consisting of sweets and jewelry and self care products. They were gathered into the cutest basket with the biggest bow tied on the handle, Jeongin was very proud of it

The icing on the cake was a small bouquet of flowers, carefully placed on the table in front of the basket. These were paired with a handwritten note, one that took him a long time to write. This had been the most effort that he had put into making someone feel better and it felt so right to do it for you

He wished he could record your reaction to watch back on bad days, but he wanted this to be as intimate as possible. All of the work and time spent was worth the big smile on your face and the slight mist building in your eyes

He had decided that he would put his entire being into loving you and taking care of you once you pulled him into a hug. Of course, he laughed his breathy laugh and kept his signature smile on as he accepted your gratitude

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #in x reader #skz #skz x reader #stray kids comfort #skz fluff #skz headcannons #skz comfort #stray kids x reader

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Curiosity Killed the Cat (+18)

Pairing: Massacre Soldier Killer x Female Reader

WC: 2600

Summary: You’ve never seen Killer without his mask. It’s a secret that you can’t help but need to be a part of. Your curiosity gets the best of you and Killer catches you peeping. 

TW: !SMUT PURE SELF INDULGENT SMUT! Porn with VERY LITTLE plot! fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, filthy talk, praise kink good girl etc, size difference. it's just porn.

**Minors DNI!!! 18+ only!!***

— — 

You had been with the Kid Pirates for half a year now and during these six months you’ve learned the inner workings of the crew and the Victoria Punk herself. You knew that the best place to take a nap was in the storeroom next to the kitchen. You knew that Heat and Wire have had a game of Dungeons and Dragons going on for the past 6 years and they play every Friday evening. You knew that Killer hated when you left food on your plate at the end of a meal claiming that “a girl needs her strength.” You knew that every morning at 10:00 AM sharp, Captain Kid would render the ship’s only bathroom unusable for at least the next hour. 

There was something that was still a mystery to you. 

You had never seen Killer without his mask. 

It was something you had wondered about ever since you first met the crew’s first mate. Was he horrifically ugly? Maybe covered in scars? Why did he hide himself from the world? He was always the kindest to you of all the Kid Pirates, making sure you were fed and had supplies you needed when you first joined the crew. Your crude captain left a lot to be desired in terms of intelligent conversation, but in contrast, Killer would inquire about the book you were reading or if you needed a late night snack. 

Tonight you were drawn into the kitchen by the delicious smell of garlic and onions being sautéed in oil and butter. You enter the galley and can’t help but flit over to the stove where Killer was diligently working. You lean over the pot of boiling pasta water and the steam feels nice on your dry, salt-worn skin. 

“Mmmmm, smells so yummy, Kil!” He was nearly a foot taller than you, so it was easy to sneak in-between him and the stove to get a better whiff of his decadent culinary creations. 

You feel his massive chest behind you vibrate as he chuckles. 

“Thank you, little one. I hope you’re hungry.” 

*SLAM* 

“Hey, that shit smells good!” Kid exclaims as he barrels into the kitchen, slightly drunk already. Killer whips his head around to look at his captain. You take this moment to lean your head back and try to peek under the gap between his chin and his mask. You strain your eyes but all you can see is darkness. Your efforts are quickly thwarted as Killer returns his attention to the stove to stir the pasta. 

“Are you making that thing I like? The spaghetti cars banana?” Kid asks as he takes a sip of his beer. 

Killer sighs. 

“Carbonara. It’s carbonara, for the last fucking time.” Killer looks down at you. “Dinner’s almost ready, why don’t you wait at the table?”

You smile up at him, searching the holes in his mask for any clue at his expression. You nod and proceed to set the dining table for the evening meal. 

— — 

After you had your fill of wine and pasta (making sure to gesture to Killer and show him your clean plate to which he gives you a playful thumbs up), you decided you’d treat yourself to a hot bath. You were sure that the rest of the crew would spend the rest of the night drinking themselves stupid so you could enjoy a quiet bath in peace. 

You stroll into the bathroom with your towel and lay it next to the tub. You put the plug in and get the hot water started. You search the cabinets for some sort of bubble bath, but end of having to settle on an unmarked bottle of body wash. You pour the soap into the bath and white, fluffy bubbles start to form on the surface of the water. 

Once the tub was full, you shut off the water and stripped yourself of your filthy, ocean-smelling clothes. You step into the steaming water one foot at a time and gently lower yourself into the bathtub. As soon as you’re settled with your head leaning against the edge of the tub you release a deep sigh. 

After a few minutes of soaking, you find yourself almost drifting off. The doorknob clicking open snapped you out of your daze. The wooden bathroom door creaked open and Killer stepped inside the bathroom. 

You instinctively cover your breasts with your hands, but it goes unnoticed by the intruder who went straight for the sink and counter on the opposite side of the room. You realize that he hasn’t even noticed your presence so you hold your breath, not wanting to startle or upset him. He stands at the sink for a moment with his hands gripping the counter. 

He then raises his hands and reaches for the back of his head. 

Oh my god. He was taking his mask off.

You were paralyzed, breath caught in your chest, eyes locked on the golden locks spilling from behind the mask. He leans down and pulls the mask off and leaves it on the counter to his right. You involuntarily slap your hand over your mouth in surprise. 

You eyes are fixed on the bathroom mirror when you see a pair of angled, sharp blue eyes staring back at you in it. 

“I know you’re there, little one.” 

You gasp. You still can’t move, stuck staring into those enchanting eyes. The only other things you could see were worn white bandages and messy blonde hair cascading from atop his head. 

“Come on out now… I want to show you something.” Killer says without turning around. 

You were mesmerized by his sweet voice, so you obeyed and stood up and stepped out of the tub. You dried off quickly and wrapped your towel around your torso before Killer interrupted you. 

“You won’t need that. Leave it. Come here.” 

You drop the towel and hesitantly approach the man at the sink, his muscles rippling in his back through his blue tee shirt. 

“Jump up here. I want you to help me take the bandages off.” Killer pats the counter to his left. 

You were frozen in place and your eyes were glued to the floor, so anxious about seeing his face. 

“Be a good girl and listen. Up.” Killer pats the counter again, more forcefully this time. 

“Yes, Kil…” You squeak and turn around and use the heels of your hands to pull yourself up onto the counter. You still would’t look up. 

“It’s ok… you can look…” Killer puts his hand over yours as it rested on the counter. You slowly raise your head and see a face covered in bandages, the only parts exposed being a thick pair of dark plum lips and those piercing eyes you saw staring at you from the mirror. You suck in a breath. 

“Here..” Killer pulls your hand and places one of the edges of the bandage in it and helped you begin to unravel it. With each pass of your hand across his face, Killer strokes up and down your bare thigh, causing you to open your legs involuntarily. 

With no sounds other than your own heavy breathing, you finally reveal Killer’s face. You gasp as you pull your hand to back your chest. He was so beautiful. His bright eyes such a contrast against his olive tanned skin. His chin was chiseled and his nose was pointed so sharply. You also notice faint scars littering his cheeks, similar to the ones on his left arm. You didn’t care, he was still handsome to you. 

“Killer… you’re… so pretty…” You reach a hand up and gingerly touch his cheek. He smiles softly. You curse him silently for keeping that smile from you for so long. He laughs and nuzzles into your hand. 

“Not as pretty as you, little one. Will you let me see you, too?”

“W-what do you mean?” You question. 

“Put your legs up, spread yourself for me.” He states as he starts bending your knees to place your feet on the counter at your sides, widely exposing your most intimate area to him. You feel blush fill your cheeks and the tip of your nose. 

“Mmm… now that’s pretty…” Killer coos as he slides his huge hand down your inner thigh to stroke up and down your slit with his thumb, sticky slick coating his digit. You find yourself shivering in anticipation under his touch. He begins focusing his movements on your clit as he rubs it in agonizingly slow circles, working you up at a painful pace. 

You can’t do anything but pant heavily and stare at his hand caressing your naked sex. 

“Look at me.” Killer demands. You oblige and look up at his exposed face. Your mouth hangs open as you keep his gaze, his rough thumb on your clit driving your crazy. 

“Killer…” You whimper up at him. 

“You’re so wet, sweet girl. So ready to get stretched out, hmm?” His lips curl into a devious smirk. 

You nod dumbly without breaking eye contact. 

Killer plunges two large fingers into your soaked hole and immediately curls them up into your spot. 

“Shit, Kil!” You cry out and grab his bicep with one hand, supporting yourself on your other palm. He pulls and tugs his fingers repeatedly inside of you while grinding the base of his hand into your clit. 

“I can’t hold it! I’m gonna! Fuck, Killer!” You whine loudly as you feel the coil in your belly tighten dangerously. You slam your eyes shut and grab onto his arm with both hands, leaning forward into him for support. 

“That’s good little one, hold onto me, just let go for me…” 

“OH FUCK!” You cry out and fluids spray out of your body onto both Killer and the bathroom floor. Your core squeezes and spasms, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as Killer helps you through your orgasm by whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

Slumped over into his shoulder, Killer removes his fingers from your core and scoops you up in one arm off the counter.

“You did such a good job, cumming so nicely for me. Think you can take my cock now?” Killer asks as he hikes you up in his grip, forcing you to look at him again. 

“Yes, I want it, please…” You say softly, still coming down from your previous high. 

“Perfect.” Killer chuckles and turns to carry you to the table that you usually used for folding laundry. He lays your naked, flushed form gently down on the surface of the table and rips his shirt over his head. He quickly unbuckles his belt and shuffles his jeans down his legs and steps out of them. His huge dick bobs in your direction, uncut tip red and leaking. 

“It… it’s not gonna fit…” You breath out as you stare in awe at his member while sitting up on your elbows. 

Killer grins again and steps between your spread legs, slapping his cock on your abdomen, showing exactly how deep it was supposed to go inside of you. You audibly whimper at the thought. 

“Sweetheart… you like being a good girl, right?” He coos down at you, his massive frame eclipsing most of the light in the room. He rubs soothing circles into your hip with his hand.

“Mhmm…” You sheepishly nod. 

“So you’re gonna lay there and take this whole cock in that tight little cunt of yours like a good girl, hmm?” He teases as he pulls back and guides his tip to rub up and down on your clit. 

“Mmmmhmmmm” You whine and buck your hips up into his touch. Killer uses this permission to press his heavy cockhead into your soaked opening. Inch by inch he splits your body open, the stretch causing you to moan out. 

“That’s right, little one… feels good, doesn’t it?” Killer reaches up a huge palm to squeeze and pinch your sensitive nipple. 

“Fuck, Kil! So full!” You squeeze your eyes shut and try to relax on his giant member. 

“Oh, my sweet baby, I’m not even all the way in yet!” Killer gives you a sinister laugh. He takes his opportunity to push his hips flush against yours and your writhe and cry from the sensation. You had never been this full in your life, he was truly stuffing you to your limits and it felt so good. He rubs your clit with one hand as he pulls back out, groaning lowly as he feels your cunt desperately cling to him and try to suck his member back in. 

Killer begins thrusting his hips, keeping most of himself sheathed deep inside of your walls and his hand gripped your waist to pull you back into him with each thrust. 

“Ah!” You moan and whine, grabbing and scratching at Killer’s broad chest as he molds your insides to the shape of his cock. You could barely breath, the man inside of you so large that you felt like he was in your chest. Killer speeds up his ministrations on your swollen clit. 

“Come on sweetheart… I feel you squeezing me, you’re close again…” Killer picks up the pace of his thrusts and you shriek out at the force of his hips slamming into your ass and thighs. “Fucking give it to me!” Killer presses harder into your clit and you scream and explode for the second time that night, for the first time on his cock. 

Tears were now freely flowing down your red cheeks and you could no longer form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. You were a babbling, bouncing mess being speared by Killer’s massive girth. You were so dick drunk that your eyes were rolling back in your head. 

“More, more, more, more!” You slur out from your helpless state, spread out on the laundry table. 

“What a greedy little pussy… so fucked out and you want more? Want me to fill you, my sweet girl? Make sure you feel me for days…” Killer punctuated his last sentence with a push to your lower stomach. 

“Uh huh! Kil, please! Cum inside!” You try to nod your head but the force of Killer’s strokes made it nearly impossible. 

“Hnnnggg…” Killer slams his hips deep into yours and blows his heavy load into your wet, waiting walls. He leans down and buries his head in the crook of your neck as his cock still twitches inside of you. As his orgasm subsides, he sighs and slowly pulls out of your spent cunt, leaving a heavy stream of semen to pour out of your hole. He holds himself up above your head and looks down at you and smiles. 

You smile back. You lift a shaky hand and cup his cheek. 

“It’s you…” You whisper as he gazes affectionately into your eyes. 

“It is me. And you’re mine now.” Killer says. Before he pushes himself off the table and grabs your towel to wrap around his waist. After fastening the towel securely he grabs you by your sides off the table and throws your nude body over his shoulder. He carries you out of the bathroom, presumably to his bedroom. 

“What the fuck Killer?” Kid calls from down the hallway, spotting you both. “Why is y/n naked? What the hell are you doing?”

“Going to enjoy my dessert.” He calls back at his captain. 

It was going to be a long night. 

— —

xx

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece anime #one piece fanart #one piece fandom #one piece smut #one piece live action #one piece netflix #kid pirates #one piece fanfic #massacre soldier killer #one piece killer #killer one piece #op killer #killer op #fanfic #fanfiction

[sabokunsmalia]

ʚ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 (𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃) 𝗗𝗢 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 (𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 2) ɞ 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: nami, god usopp, trafalgar law, eustass kid, portgas d. ace & sabo 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: nothing much except for pet names, sweet stuff, and gestures 𝖍𝖎 𝖎'𝖒 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆: part two without having someone ask for it because I'm a sucker for law, sabo and kid, and had to expose my thoughts about that to the world!

ʚ cat burglar nami ɞ

↷ berry were nami's greatest treasure. she hoarded the green paper in different hideouts in the girls room, preparing for an ambush from another pirate crew. so, when you joined the straw hat crew, it turned out to be a surprise for the male's and robin when nami came back from a shopping trip and handed you the very first bag from the ones in her hand. she never gave anyone even the tiniest amount of berry, and if they agreed to pay her back, the deal carried high interest. the orange-haired woman might have been a heartwarming person towards people, but she became a greedy one when her treasures were involved. except for you, you could take all the money and she would still follow you with heart eyes.

↷ nami has been part of the straw hat crew for almost decades. she was the first women to experience how unlogical luffy's choices sometimes were, how often zoro lost his way, how many lies usopp could tell in a day and how sanji named his attacks after french meals. so on a particular rough day, when she swallows down the stress so easily after practising for years to not let their dumbness get to her, she decides you need a long bath to relax. and she runs you one without hesitation or even warning you about it. a bubble bath, the smell of fresh rose petals from robin's flower beds spread through the room as your hand was placed in nami's warm palm. leading you towards the stairs, she smiled when you let your towel fall and stepped inside, almost immediately a satisfied groan escaped your throat. and nami, she was extremely satisfied with herself.

↷ most of the things you drank, or the pies you ate and loved so much, were made by nami with the help of sanji. after the man accepted that his chances with the navigator have vanished since you joined the grew, the cook helped nami to create the sweetest desserts for you. and hell, she was desperate to receive the praise from your mouth as the sweet orange juice of the first bite lingered on your tongue. oh, nami loved to watch your face twist in pleasure, her hands underneath her chin and the elbows on her knees as she sat beside you. just the little words about her cooking skills were enough to make her day and paint a smile on her lips, gathering another tad of courage to try a much more difficult recipe. but never forgetting the oranges.

ʚ god usopp ɞ

↷ oh, usopp knows how the adventures sometimes frighten you, and he's there, to hold your hand and always put a smile back on your face. he would make a fool out of himself a thousand times to ensure your mood was lifted again. when you did not get enough sleep because someone from another room was being awake all night and literally screaming through the corridors, usopp pulled the blanket back above your bodies and hugged you tighter while cuddling you back to sleep. when your stomach grumbled and you were especially hungry, usopp would fire up sanji to cook faster because his princess could die. totally overreacting but that was exactly the way he was. especially when it comes to you.

↷ imagine being in those muscular arms for an entire day, and i promise, once there is no fight and no enemies in sight, usopp will have his arms wrapped around you. sometimes around your waist from behind, pulling your back flush against his chest. sometimes over your shoulders and pulling you into an entire cuddle session. usopp could not keep his hands away from your irresistible self and beautiful soul. the sniper used any chance given to spend a free minute with you, either on deck, in his little workshop or any other place. life as a pirate was dangerous, life could end the next day or even minute. not being by your side, touching you, feeling your soft skin under his rough fingertips, it would be a great regret for the sniper.

↷ usopp loved to exit his workshop, walk towards the deck and find you on one of the loungers or maybe at the railing, wearing one of his hats or even glasses on top of your head. you were a beautiful sight for usopp before, but with his clothes or things attached to your stunning figure, he could faint each second. you looked so beautiful, and he would find a seat beside you. not one word was exchanged, usopp only kept staring at how pretty you made his things look with just wearing them. after almost too intense staring, the compliments would stumble out. a mess of words, mixed together in different compliments but most likely in a chaos of compliments where you had to find the right sentence together yourself. but you knew what he was like, and the flustered cheeks were enough for you to smile and laugh about the moment.

ʚ trafalgar d. law ɞ

↷ when the polar tang submerged and did not leave enough room to have a minute away from the stupid conversations between shachi and penguin, law invited you to join him in his office. none of the crew members visited him there, only knocking at the door once the ship emerged again, or they have found something special and rare. so, you were the only person allowed in his personal bubble. a room, filled with documents and books about the history and newspapers about a time before the surgeon even decided to become a pirate. he would occasionally glance up from the paragraph he was reading, seeing if you were alright or on the brink of exploding to ask him a question. oh, he could easily read it in the twisted features of your face.

↷ law was a man who worked way too many hours in his life. nights were for calm reading or planning the next steps ahead while the extrovert idiots of his crew were asleep instead singing or playing around. so, the doctor did not sleep enough but he always wanted to make sure that you were getting enough rest. mostly, you fell asleep on the couch in his office, as you were watching how his inked fingers flipped the pages of the book while never tearing his eyes off a particular important paragraph. and when he looked up to glance at you, law almost chuckled at the sweet sight in front of him. instead, he would place the book on the desk, and grabbed one of the large blankets that you adored so much. placing it over your body, he carefully wrapped the soft fabric around your body with a smile, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before taking his seat in his chair again.

↷ this man has a very hard time sharing any romantic interactions in public. he was attractive, there was no need to deny the obvious, and it was too difficult to stay completely calm when a beautiful girl flirted with him. to avoid another argument or certainly the need to answer one of those desperate women, law only had to raise his arm. it might be small but the tattoo on the side of his ring finger revealed the deep romantic relationship he shared with you. your name, in capital letters, written along the length of his digit. a small tattoo with such a large and important meaning. obviously, he would ask you one day if you would do the same for him, and suddenly, the two of you have a special kind of partner ink. it was enough to know for the two of you, even if penguin and shachi always teased their captain about finally committing to someone.

ʚ eustass 'captain' kid ɞ

↷ kid's a rough man, he's always so loud and his voice is always accentuated by that particular grumpy growl coming from his throat. with you, the change was inevitable. not that he wasn't the violent man with the fight addiction and incomparable confidence anymore, but he started to calm down in your presence. mostly at night, when the victoria punk became a quiet place while the crew slept. mostly because there was too much booze drowned. kid drank a couple of glasses himself but his height allowed him to have more than others. staring off into the darkness, you shivered as the deep conversations between kid and you rolled on. and hell, he never thought he would have that kind of situation but he was so quick with shrugging off the warm feathery coat from his shoulders and placing them on yours. underneath the thick fabric, you almost disappeared as your arms slipped through the sleeves and never reached the end. the red-haired captain chuckled at the sight, but he also felt his heart beating faster at the same view.

↷ he always wears his red lipstick, mostly because he cares about looking presentable when it comes to such small things, but since you stepped into his life it had a different meaning for him. always making sure his lips were covered in red, kid's mouth traveled around your throat, along the line of your jaw and over your face. even around your cleavage, stomach and the insides of your thighs, leaving red lipstick marks along your delicate skin. even better, the marks of red accompanied by the blueish leftovers of his deep and rough bites. it was his favorite thing, marking you up to show off that you belonged to someone. oh, and how much he loved to explore your body another night, and find the same marks and color mix still peppered all across your soft skin. reminders of what he has done to you, reminders of a good night with him. reminders of his undying love for you.

↷ kid always loved to work with metal, he had a talent for creating and repairing things. with the devil fruit he ate, it just allowed him to work quicker, and even create much taller statues or weapons. he was dedicated to it, always seated in his workshop at the bench, putting together small pieces with his large hands while using his powers to keep them in place before putting them together. it was almost too beautiful to watch how creative and dedicated he was. but the most loving and beautiful part of his hobby became the fact that he always made a small present for you. a bracelet, to pull you towards him in dangerous situations or when he was just craving your touch so badly. a ring to confess his unyielding love to you, and make small promises at the same time. a beautiful hair clip when you were annoyed by your hair fluttering into your face while fighting. even the small dagger that was meant to protect your life in difficult moments, and was attached to your waist, was made by your beloved kid. the present's weren't always meant to be sweet, but they had an important meaning which was much more sincere.

ʚ portgas d. ace ɞ

↷ let's have an honest moment right here. it's definitely a hat thing for the asl brothers, and ace would be like luffy in that situation. the commander loved it when you wore his hat around the ship, playing with the strings while having a particularly interesting conversation with marco about further plans. obviously it wasn't only the hat he loved to share with you. some days his pearl chain disappeared before he woke up from a long nap, and he found you, wearing it as your belt for the new dress you bought on the last island. the sight was made in heaven for the fire fist. he surely could never get enough of seeing you, wearing his little accessories. one day, he would come back from a mission, bringing you a pearl necklace of your own and making sure they included the two smiley's which were present on his hat. ace wanted the two of you to look as much as partners as possible.

↷ oh, ace was such a touch greedy man. he always had to have you around somehow, when he was on the moby dick. since pops trusted him with many missions, ace was missing from the crew for days, or sometimes even weeks, as he tried to fulfill what pops told him to. so, when ace returned to the whitebeard crew, his first task was to look for you and find out if you were alright. hands always wrapped around your waist, his chin placed in the curve of your neck as he placed butterfly kisses along the side of your throat. hell, he didn't even let you go when pops asked for your opinion on something and took the blame for it afterwards. ace showed his love with physical touch, and he was way too addicted to having his fingertips feel the softness of your delicate skin. he knew it could be over or too late one day, and he wouldn't want to miss a chance.

↷ surely, you never had to confront the freezing cold with ace as your boyfriend. he would make sure to always prepare a fire when the crew settled down at the island. he always lit candles around the shared bedroom, knowing that if one fell to the side, he could easily kill the fire without doubts. and while laying in bed, the blankets not even thick enough to keep the bites of cold away from your shuddering body, all you had to do was scoot closer to your boyfriend's chest. sprawled out hands were placed on your waist, grabbing the flesh of your hips tightly as the warmth spread from his fingertips through your body. the shivers disappeared and the comfort settled in, as ace used his devil fruit power's to raise the temperature underneath the blanket and even of the entire bedroom. he wouldn't want you to get sick, and what better way to have those incredible powers than to use them for your comfort.

ʚ flame emperor sabo ɞ

↷ sabo was born a noble boy, and the choice of his clothing still kind of resembled the nobility of his former life. sure, he hated them. he despised how they treated humankind and put themselves above all. still his clothing remained. and you have never seen sabo in broad daylight, walking around without his gloves. they were his trademark, like the hat that always landed on your head when he was in a particularly difficult fight with an enemy. it was the same as his brothers, but this time, sabo usually carried the hat himself except for in those situations. also, the chief of staff would definitely buy you a pair of gloves yourself. thin fabric, almost see-through and a small bow on the side of your wrists. he would even help you put them on the very first time. so delicate and beautiful, just like the way he saw you. and well, he would buy a couple more pairs along the way or just bring them back with him.

↷ sabo would make sure he would give you a transponder snail. a way to always communicate with him when he was away, gathering important information or just advancing to save luffy from the enemies for another day. the revolutionary army was in possession of one transponder snail but it always stayed in dragon's office. sabo needed to hear your voice once in a while as he traveled across the vast ocean. just a simple greeting or a sweet confession from the other side of the transponder snail was enough to give sabo new strength. and he did not want to talk to five others before finally reaching you and only having limited time for a conversation. he needed you, needed the reassuring glint in your voice when you told him that he was going to be okay and come back home to you. all the words you said, the promises you made, turned sabo into an even stronger person than he has been before.

↷ sabo is a man who loves to spoil you, mostly with time together because he was always so damn busy as the chief of staff. second in command was a blessing, standing just underneath the leader, and having the chance to share his piece of mind. but it cost him time with you. so, sabo certainly tried his best to spend each free minute with you together. mostly, cooking a meal for the two of you, for a sweet candlelight dinner. going to a restaurant was impossible with the bounty which was on his head, knowing how many marines would bath in the glory of taking down the second in command of the revolutionary army. quality time was his kind of showing his love for you, and sabo's ways of cooking such a special dinner, with a glass of expensive wine and just a couple of hours for the two of you together, it was enough and a very pleasant surprise each and every single time.

#one piece #opla #one piece x reader #op x reader #op nami #one piece nami #cat burglar nami #nami x reader #nami imagine #usopp #usopp x reader #god usopp #usopp imagine #trafalgar law #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustass captain kid #sabo imagine #sabo x reader #sabo one piece #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #flame emperor sabo #ace x reader #ace one piece #eustass kid imagine #portgas ace x reader

[sun-glasses-at-night]

A demon downs a vial of poison in order to save the life of a stricken human. A human who had just seen their partner get shot and killed as a result of how they were forced to live. The demon mocks the idea of offing one's self, and effectively takes the bullet out of the human’s gun. Later, he swears off laudanum, claiming to never want to try it again. But then Crowley is sucked down into hell and taken away. Time passes and Aziraphale is alone.

A demon asks an angel for holy water, and is shot down. The angel sees the danger in this, and cannot be convinced that handing over a loaded gun, a pill, a small vial of laudanum would be safe for the demon. He does not trust what Crowley would do with it, despite his promises. They walk away from each other. The crumpled note floats on a body of water yet it combusts. Time passes. They are both alone.

During the blitz, at the church. We see Crowley eyeing up the holy water as if thinking of stealing it. After the books are saved from burning and they’re driving away—bathed in orange firelight and speeding through the blitzed city—Aziraphale asks if there’s anything he can do for Crowley. Neither of them mention holy water. If they had, that bubble would have burst like the bottles of liquor in the back and that fragile thing they were eking out would have spilled, quite dangerously for the demon, all over the two of them. Instead, hours later, the demon has a gun leveled at the angel’s head and is asked to trust him, to pull the trigger with the knowledge that it won’t hurt him. There is a bullet in this gun but be not afraid i will not let it hurt me. You need to trust in that, trust in me, trust in us. The trigger is pulled. Time passes.

An angel sits in the passenger seat of a demon’s car, much in the same way as he did decades prior. The car is not moving but there is an orange glow about the street they’re parked on, illuminated signs advertising love or an approximation of. He hands the demon a thermos—a silly object, one that is as sturdy as it is branded with Aziraphale’s colors, personalized, a reminder of who it came from. This one, at least, can’t shatter. He loads the tartan bullet into the gun and hands it over to Crowley, apologizing in his obfuscated way for taking so long to trust him with it. Apologizing for not keeping up. Blaming Crowley for going too fast. The car is not moving as he exits the Bentley. Crowley has no way to test if it's real holy water, other than trust. Time continues to pass.

An angel and a demon save each other’s lives by taking a bullet for each other—one spilled out and splashing in a bathtub, the other standing still in a pillar of orange flame. This time, neither of them shot the gun. They committed to robbing the grave knowing it would be rigged to shoot. Time passes but they run alongside it, doing their best to carve out some peace together after everything. Time passes but they pass it together.

Time stands still. An angel and a demon are facing off in a bookshop, flanked by a looming unticking clock and the lack of birdsong. They are both looking down the barrels of their trust in each other. The demon fires first, but lands somewhere off to the side of the angel’s head. That had been the plan once, but not anymore.

The angel shoots. As it turns out, the angel’s aim had always been better.

#good omens spoilers #good omens meta #good omens #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands

[sleepstxtic]

Fluff Fest: Dead Pigeon Edition - Masterlist

@maesterchill and I bring to you the masterlist of works from the Fluff Fest: Dead Pigeon Edition! All 22 works are 2k or under (with the exception of our multi-chaptered fics). You can find them below! Thank you so much for following along <3

Hungry Face by @themiddleofwonderland | Explicit Draco's been at the cottage for a week.

Asphalt and Asphodel by @jtimu | Mature Harry and Draco take a road trip.

Spellbound by @wolfpants | Explicit Draco Malfoy's crime ring have captured the one asset they know will get Harry Potter's attention: his son, Albus. With their location in France no longer untraceable, Draco must move Albus to the next safehouse. They're alone, in a shitty Muggle car in the middle of the European countryside, and the tension is about to hit its crest.

Camp Crystal Wood by @leahrocky | Explicit Harry is hired to be a camp counselor at the newly reopened Camp Crystal Wood alongside his very best friends. When he finds out Draco Malfoy will be there as well, he knows he's in for a boatload of trouble.

Carnivorous Plants and What to Feed Them by DrPansyParkinson | Mature Neville Longbottom's too busy at work to find a girl to date, but when the perfect witch walks through his grandmother's flower shop doors, he'll stop at nothing to dance with her.

bad omen, right? by @maesterchill | Explicit George Weasley is a busy man.Busy managing a very successful joke shop, and a moderately successful social life, and a less-than-successful sobriety issue. Certainly far too busy to spare a single thought for something as everyday as his talking mirror. So, it's only when his girlfriend Angelina is helping him decide what to wear for his fortieth birthday party that evening that he finally sees it. A glimpse of his long-dead brother, silent and unspeaking. Which, as all wizards know, can't be a good omen.

Soft Love by @just-a-whorecrux | Explicit Albus has the best birthday ever. 😌🧸

Waters of the Womb by @annanother-thing | Explicit Two decades is too long, and Ginny is finally free from the girl in the mirror.

Garden Scene by CreepingMyrtle | Mature   Narcissa welcomes Lucius home from Azkaban. It’s a warm night, not yet dark, and, as he speaks, her heart collapses inward on itself until it is as hard and dense as a hagstone, calcified around its gaping hole. She thinks she will perhaps never cry again. “Yes, darling,” she says, and “Here, there’s something I’ve been wanting to show you.” She summons his favorite robe. She leads him to the garden.

A Drowned Man by @apricitydays-lazynights | Mature Is there anything in this world more restorative than a bubble bath?

Mushroom Hunting by @apricitydays-lazynights | Mature Ollivanders wands are crafted with only the finest materials, proudly sourced locally using sustainable practices.

A Soft, Low Strain by @dodgerkedavra | Explicit Harry can’t help that it feels so good.

poison every little thing by veradubhghoill | Explicit “Yuck,” Draco says in a tone of such vehemence that Harry feels a sudden, violent pang of longing for the Draco Malfoy he’d known in Hogwarts.

Aged unto perfection by @maesterchill | Mature Draco and Harry enjoy a tipple together on their honeymoon.

Hold me like water by @uncannycerulean | Mature After the war, Draco starts frequenting bookshops all over London, not knowing what he is looking for. Until he finds Harry, who is looking for something, too.

This Messiah Needs Watching by @themiddleofwonderland | Explicit The baby comes the day after Draco's birthday.

The Dancing Hours by @dodgerkedavra | Explicit Harry begged. Draco couldn't say no.

His Ghost by @sleepstxtic | Mature “I saw his ghost," Hermione says.

Bridal Rose by @dodgerkedavra | Explicit Harry would do anything.

Gutless by @sillywives | Explicit Malfoy is sick. Harry is getting better.

I would love you if you had a worm by @elskanellis | Explicit Living in the Room of Requirement during Snape's tenure, Ginny has had to do a lot of things to help her community survive. Saving Seamus Finnegan might be the most difficult thing yet.

Now I Wake Up In The Night and Watch You Breathe by @hoko-onchi-writes | Explicit Harry has been pining for years. It's time he finally makes his dreams come true.

#fluff fest: dead pigeon edition #masterlist #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #lucissa #panville #pansy parkinson #neville longbottom

[iamthecomet]

I'm alive I promise! As proof here's 800 words of Cirrus/Cumulus bath time. Magic use, making out, clit rubbing. A miniscule amount of lore. You know all the good stuff.

Many thanks to @mikorsghouls for blessing me with the idea of using air magic underwater. Your brain is so big.

Cirrus is, in a word, comfortable. 

The water is hot, the bathroom sealed and steamy. She upended one of Mountain’s bath bottles into the bath before she stepped in. Rose and jasmine petals swirl around her, stick her to damp skin. 

Cumulus’ fingers press into her belly, just over her belly button. The other hand rests on her thigh. Cirrus leans back, deeper into Cumulus. Lets the other ghoulette hold her, support her. She tucks her head under Cumulus’ chin, her own nearly dipping into the water. She sighs, bodily. The stress of the day wicking away the longer she sits. 

Planning a tour is hard. Harder without Aether around to help. It’s all logistics and phone calls and numbers and a calendar so tight Cirrus is sure one tiny misstep will throw the whole thing off. 

The work never ends, and Copia who is usually exuberantly helpful is distant. Tired. Worried about something. Cirrus has found him more often than not in his room playing that ancient video game system looking at the corners of his room like he’s seen a ghost. 

He’s crankier than she remembers. More sarcastic. She doesn’t mind that so much except that it’s out of character. She knows the tension is from the upcoming tour. Knows things are at stake. Everyone can feel it. And once they’re on the road it will ease. Being on the road is easy, fun. Exhausting but overall they are all their best selves when they have a show to look forward to. 

These last couple weeks before they set out will be torture–already have been. Cirrus has a million things she should be doing right now that aren’t lounging in the bath with Cumulus. 

But she really can’t be fucked to get up and do any of them. And, even if she wanted to, Cumulus would never let her. 

Cirrus kicks up a purr as she relaxes, eyes slipping closed as Cumulus dances her fingers over Cirrus’ thigh, drawing patterns on smooth skin. Cumulus dips her head to kiss Cirrus’ hair. 

“Feel better?” 

Cirrus’ answer is a low hum, confirmation.  “Can I make you feel even better?” 

Cirrus nods. Cumulus’ hand slips a little higher and Cirrus lets her legs fall open further. Knees pressed to the sides of the oversized tub. She loves this tub. Loves every tub in the Abbey honestly. Nearly big enough to swim in. Built for holding multiple ghouls at a time. The depth of it keeping her and Cumulus fully submerged. Cirrus turns her head, braces her temple against Cumulus’ shoulder. 

She kisses the damp flesh. Tastes roses, smells sun dried linen. Home. 

Cumulus slides her hand higher. Pets a finger over Cirrus’ slit, gentle but not teasing. 

“I learned a new trick.” She hums into Cirrus’ hair. 

“Show me.” Cirrus says, angling her head up just enough to kiss Cumulus’ neck now, up over the soft line of her jaw. . 

She loves it best like this. No urgency. Allowed to just melt into Cumulus, to stay there for hours. To be touched, to touch, with no expectation. Maybe she’ll cum, maybe she won’t. It doesn’t matter. 

She feels the disturbance in the water before the bubbles touch her. Cumulus summoning air beneath the surface. Bubbles dancing over her inner thighs, the pace where her clit juts out just so from her lips. 

“Fun.” 

“Isn’t it? Gentler than fingers. Good to get you warmed up.” 

Cirrus needs this. The warm up. Gentle fingers, bubbles, kitten licks. Time to let her body catch up to her brain. Time and indulgence and decadence. Another soft jet of air hits her, a little more this time, enough to make her twitch, to make her gasp. 

“Do you like it?” Cumulus asks. 

Cirrus nods, she lifts her head, and turns to kiss Cumulus. It’s thorough. Filled with the same lack of urgency as everything else. Just the desire to kiss. To taste. To feel each other. Cumulus replaces the jet of air with her fingers. The pads of her index and middle fingers dragging over the hood of Cirrus’ clit, spreading her a little, delving into her slick folds as they kiss. Slow and sloppy and decadent, and Cirrus can’t think of a single reason she will ever need to leave this bath. 

Cumulus pulls away, she pulls her hand from Cirrus’ belly to guide her head back down, to press it to the slope of her breast. Cirrus’ jaw and cheek dipping into the water as Cumulus cards those wet fingers under the dark curtain of Cirrus’ hair to drag over her undercut. Freshly shaved and soft. Motions meant to soothe, fingers moving in time with the ones stroking through her folds. 

Cirrus lets her eyes drift closed again. She lets a haze of comfort and pleasure drape over her.

“Don’t stop,” Cirrus mumbles, lips moving over Cumulus’ ever-steady pulse. 

“Never.” 

#comet writes #femslash #femslash february #Cirrus Ghoulette #Cumulus Ghoulette #Cirrus/Cumulus #Soft fics #slice of life #but also smut #they just love each other ok!? #the band ghost fic #ghost fic #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #ghost band fanfiction #the band ghost fan fiction #the band ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes

[tadpolesonalgae]

Demon!Azriel x reader: Teeth and Talons - Chapter 11

Warnings: murder, general death, Azriel, gore

Word Count: 3,549

-Part 10-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It’s been simmering away long before he turned you. Maybe even before he met you. Bubbling and festering deep in the marrow of your bones, suppressed and denied over and over until it became something awful and ugly, untameable and unstoppable once it’s leash finally snapped. Wreaking devastation with wide-grinning teeth, talons that snicker-snack through flesh, crushing corpses beneath its leather covered paws.

You can feel it cracking open an eye, a slimy, translucent film beneath its lid, opening blearily, fully fledged at last, and ready to wreak havoc on everything around it.

And you know just the place to begin your destruction, how to set the doomsday in motion.

The twisted fucker that got you into this situation in the first place.

—————

It’s been a long time coming, this selfish sense of justice that you need to bring.

How many other women and innocents have they murdered in the name of mild boredom. The devil makes work for the idle, and their palms are softer than cotton. Easier to shred through.

Night hasn’t even fallen when you crawl up the walls of the palace, built in the centre of the citadel, able to see the priestess’ temple from the high crenellations. In a fleeting thought, you wonder what she’d think of your actions, if she’d condemn them or turn a blind eye for the sake of your own suffering. But she won’t be spared either—she should have warned you. Not sat you down over a cup of tea and given out her own simpering story.

Your claws hook over the balcony, effortlessly hauling yourself into the boy-king’s chambers. Take in the gaudy and lavish spread, undeserved opulence at its finest, long past the line of decadence. Nobody needs a golden chamber pot beneath their bed, no matter how well they eat.

Heightened senses pick up the beat of two hearts outside the door, filthily-paid guards positioned at the entrance, and your forked tongue flickers out over dark, rubbery lips. Drool drips onto the floor, but you pay it no mind, snaking silently across the marble before flinging the doors from their hinges. Blood splatters and bone splinters beneath the force, glittering talons making a wretched mess of the spurting bodies, unthreading sinew as you crush their lungs beneath your paw, the steel of their weapons nothing against the raw hide coating leathery limbs. At your back, your tails thrashes, gouging slashes in the stone as spikes slice through marble, putting breaks in the castle that nearly broke you.

Your nostrils flare, picking up the scent of someone young, blood too sour to enjoy laced with the overripe flavour of age. The sag of skin practically a flavour in and of itself as you skitter down the hallway, scrambling up the walls, clambering along the ceiling as you spot a familiar pathway, ones you’d been forced up when you were human. A human woman with bare feet and scrappy clothing, still shot through with remnants of sickness.

The great hall looms before you, and your pulse spikes, screaming for you to loose hell on the people within. Your back arches in a stretch, easing your muscles into working condition, warmed from the earlier blood-bath.

With a flick of your great, thrashing tail, the massive doors cave in, being flung from the frame in a crash of dust and stone. It doesn’t even take a minute before the guards within are splattered upon the pristine walls, dripping blood and viscera onto pretty, marble floors. Staining the stained glass red.

The boy-king screams, a high pitched wail that grates on your ears as you slither through the hall, only to come to a stop at the foot of the dais, watching as an acrid smelling liquid drips from the too-large throne where he’s cowering. Blacked-out eyes flick through the room, but the advisor is no where to be found, fury lighting you ablaze, rage rippling through your soul as magic pulses through the room, shattering the glass, sending bloody fragments raining down on the gardens below.

You hardly feel his tiny bones crack beneath your palm, as simple as squashing a fly—the difference being you’d feel bad about the latter, stealing food from the spider. Hot flesh is crushed into the floor, leaving a mushy pile of indiscernible parts dripping from the throne, iron mixing with ammonia.

Again your nostrils flare, heart pounding with bloodlust as you search for the man who’d sentenced you. Who’d been responsible for casting you out into that forest, beyond reason.

A broken cry sounds from the entrance, and you whip around, rubbery maw sharpening into a grin as you find your meal, held upon narrow, shaky legs that wouldn’t make more than a mouthful. His eyes are round and terror-filled as they take in the hell-beast you’ve become.

Shadows writhe at your wings, crowing them in a corona of darkness, tail thrashing and tearing at stone.

The advisor stumbles back on doddery old legs, stumbling and tripping as he falls on his bony behind, hands scrambling as he frantically pushes back from you, like a baby trying to crawl away. Razor-sharp teeth glitter, kept clean and pristine, waiting to be used.

You prowl forward, excited to take your time stripping his skin from his skeleton, feeling it peel from his flesh. Claws click on the marble floor, ticking like the second hand of a clock as you revel in the rising scent of his terror, so many wonders afforded to you with this new body.

His mouth opens in soundless scream, a wet gasp rasps from dry, old lips, hot breath wheezing from sinking lungs.

You press your paw over his chest, pinning him to the ground as his skeletal hands weakly rub at your fingers, trying to remove the great things from spearing him entirely as they curl into his back, tearing at sagging muscle. You wish you could gloat, could tell him who you are, see if he remembers what he did to you. See if he remembers being the one to suggest leaving you to the devil you’d sold your heart to in order to be cured from the plague.

His eyes are wide and glassy…the old man with already fading hair and wrinkles that swallow his eyes beneath flaps of loose skin.

The memories pour in, the rope biting into your wrists, weakness coating your muscles…eyes as black as the devils. The look alone had been enough to have nausea roiling in your stomach, threatening to upend it right there on the marble floor you’d been shoved to. Eyes that had swallowed you whole—black like you’d never seen black. Dark as pitch.

(alarmingly void, more than anyone’s have any right to be…and lacking in definition. Just one solid layer glazing across the obsidian coloured surface. Depthless.)

Terror-stricken blue eyes stare up at you, watery and weak as they strain and bulge beneath the pressure on his chest.

Ice glazes through your veins, blood freezing over just as a wave of pure power slams into you, throwing you back through the hall.

Your head cracks back against the marble, spine aching from the shockwave and you slide down onto the floor, collapsing behind the throne before slithering back to your feet, snaking down the dais. Eyes locking with cocoa.

There’s a brief moment of sorrow that flashes. It’s hardly noticeable, and passes before you can fully grasp it, but it’s enough for her to slip in.

Elain raises her thyrsus, knocking its base against the floor, a thrumming wave of power gathering in a shield as your talons clack against the stone, warily prowling forward, mouth watering to sink into his flesh. Cocoa flicks through the room, finally taking in the carnage—the blood splatters, and splintered fragments of bone dripping from the dais you’re standing on. The warped and crushed corpse of the young king.

“What have you become?” She breathes vehemently, delicate brow narrowing over cold eyes, shields rising up and locking down, sceptre spinning in her hand as she sets one foot before her, the other behind at five o’clock, pointed outward. A snarl rips from your chest, watching as she takes up a defensive position between you and the exit—between you and the rasping advisor. Between you and your meal.

Before you can think properly, you’re darting forward, faster than a shadow, shooting across the floor as talons crack down on her shield of magic, the staff appearing as a way from her to convert her power into a weapon. Burning rage pounds through your skull, yearning to obliterate as magic gathers at your fingertips, rubbery lips stretching into a grin when it coats your claws, slicing through her barrier.

She’s thrown back in the room, robes skidding through cooling pools of blood until she reaches the threshold of the caved-in doors. Glee beats in your chest as you skitter forward, the sound of leather stretching as your grin widens, showcasing gleaming rows of razor-sharp teeth, ready to rip and shred to your pleasure. The staff has been knocked from her tender hand, and she grapples for it as you scuttle closer, speeding up the closer you get until darkness is building at your back and your wings are flared in a display of dominance, keeping her pinned to the bloody marble with shadows.

Incisors glitter in the light as your jaws part above her, preparing to bite down and end when steel wreathed in fire slides beneath your throat. “Step away from her.”

Eyes flick up, jaw locking as stinging, searing pain lances down your right collar bone, bleeding into your shoulder as your gaze locks with a whirring, mechanical eye. Golden and russet narrows with unforgiving fury, glowing like the flames from a forge as the blistering steel raises in warning before pulling back. Fire sparks across the floor, aiming for your limbs to burn you alive as he spins, making to slice the blade across your throat.

Darkness flares out of nowhere, colliding with rampant and furious fire, and you’re thrown back as another figure joins the fray. One that’s packed with deadly power, great wings wreathing his back as he looms over Lucien.

“Step aside, Azriel,” the male hisses, flame licking up the walls, heat sweltering.

“Put the blade away, and I’ll consider letting you keep your other eye,” he drawls lowly, syllables dragging like gravel from his throat. Fury gathers in the room, settling like oil over your skin, so heavy and greasy you can feel it practically weighing you down.

“Look around,” Lucien snarls, flame deepening with sizzling rage, held in check by a leash of thread. “Your mate has killed dozens of humans, as well as trying to murder mine.” His power flares on that last word, as if instinct is roaring at him to protect but he’s restraining it. “Put. Her. Down.”

Even through your haze of anger, the words clang through, reverberating across leathery skin, hackles raising at the threat.

Azriel shifts on his four great paws, wings flaring menacingly as a snarl rips from his throat, settling between you and the male. “You look after yours and I’ll look after mine,” he growls, darkness taunting flame, building steadily at his back.

A little further behind Lucien, Elain shakily pushes up from the pool of blood, a trembling, pale hand reaching for her staff, brimming with a pale light. With a flick of her wrist, the magic flares, beaming like a spear for the unprotected underside of his throat. Faster than thought, faster than instinct, you’ve shot across the marble, skittering beneath his front left paw, jaws snapping viciously as your own power grates against Elain’s before sending it careening off, gouging marble from the crumbling castle.

Tension ripples as the four of you are locked in on one another, senses keyed to the slightest movement, waiting for the coil to snap so the others can be torn to shreds.

The room explodes in glittering black, razor sharp talons clicking skittishly as power splits your two sides apart, blasting a wall of physical adamant between you, just translucent enough for Elain and Lucien’s figures to be wrought in shadow.

Azriel’s body lowers, both in a bow and in a circle of protection, paw shifting forward to keep you tucked beneath him. Instinctively you follow, curling back into his power, tail pulled tight—ready to lash out.

The darkness simmers away, revealing the tall, powerfully hewn figure of a male. Wickedness practically drips from his finery, raven-black hair pushed neatly back from his brow as sharp violet eyes settle coldly over the scene. A wave of dread ices across your skin, a weight dropping in your belly as you take in the immense power that’s rolling from his shoulders—a god.

Azriel doesn’t so much as breathe different, but his shadows gather beneath you, thick and lush like a rug of black wool, drawing his magic in closer as a circle of protection. A suggestion of defence.

“Azriel.”

The voice is deep and icy, dripping with malice, and the spines at your back prickle. Your own magic weaves through with his shadow, hiding in plain sight but ready to spring free as fear pools in your stomach.

Violet flicks through the room, taking in the splatters of blood, dripping viscera, then his gaze locks with yours. It’s a new kind of fear, you realise, being singled out by a being so much greater than you are, and you shrink away, pushing back into the protective power of the male above you. His stance broadens, covering more of you as great paws settle further apart, braced for sudden movement.

“What happened here?” The god doesn’t remove his attention from Azriel, but it’s clear the question is not addressed to him. The shadowy wall fades entirely, and your gaze shifts to the two figures opposing you, Elain having gotten to her feet, robes soaked in blood, staff gripped dismally in her hand with grim determination.

“Your brother let his mate run free,” Lucien replies lowly, tone like gravel—lined with restraint. “She tried to kill Elain.” Fire brightens before again banking, as if being soothed by the reminder of her presence at his side. Sharp, violet eyes once again cut to you, “is that right?”

You manage a quiet snarl, fear drumming in your pulse, paws shifting like a great cat preparing to pounce. Muscle coils tight with terror at being faced with the god, having his attention settle like ice over skin, preparing to rip away. His sharp eyes narrow on you, and you pull your magic tighter.

Is that right? He repeats, and you recoil into Azriel’s chest, flinching as the god’s voice echoes through your mind. Through your peripherals you can see as a frail body starts to life, gangly limbs trying to heave up his torso as the king’s advisor return to consciousness. Once again you shift on your paws, hissing viciously at the trembling man, blood and vomit coating his front as he takes in the four beasts before him. Five.

“She wouldn’t kill Elain,” Azriel growls from above you, shifting his paw to block your line of sight from the advisor. “I wasn’t asking you,” your god replies coldly, attention pinning you to the ground as violet bores into you. “She won’t be able to speak yet,” Azriel bites out, power thrumming at your paws, curling up your arms, brushing at the leathery hide you’ve been coated in. “She changed less than a week ago.”

“Then why weren’t you watching her?” Lucien growls sharply, eyes blazing.

The god casts a warning glance at the fiery male, but does no more than that, evidently also seeking an answer.

Azriel shifts above you, and you can feel the oiled gears of his mind clicking effortlessly, spinning his information into a silky web. “I was,” he growls, gaze turning to the god appealingly. “You know as well as I do everything is well warded. The only way she could have escaped is if someone let her out.”

“If someone let her out?” Lucien echoes disbelievingly. “Those wards are practically impenetrable. It would be impossible to unlock them from the outside.”

“Lucien’s correct,” the god drawls icily, gaze drifting to Azriel’s, warning glittering in their depths. A timer counting down as his patience begins to fray, the metallic scent heavy in the air. Azriel makes no obvious moves, but you can feel his frustration curving around your bones, wrapping you tight to him.

It seems the god senses his hesitance, pouncing on the second of indecisiveness. “Don’t try and hide things from me,” he bites out coldly, power weighing heavily in the air, so intense it sets your iron stomach churning.

A muscle feathers in Azriel’s jaw, before charcoal eyes raise to violet. “She wasn’t going to make it,” he growls lowly, resentment coating his tongue. “Elain can attest to that.”

Violet flicks to hardened cocoa expectantly, but the priestess is already watching you, peering beneath a strained brow. Her jaw is tight, but she gives a curt nod, fingers still bone white around her staff. “That’s true. We both saw her before,” she answers, gaze briefly meeting Lucien’s. “She was feverish and already going into delirium. It’s unlikely she was going to survive.”

The god’s attention returns to Azriel, the edges of his irises slightly thawed but remaining hard.

“She was going to die,” Azriel repeats, words pulled taut as they leave his tongue. “She had to go through the Pit, or she wouldn’t have survived.” The three figures stiffen preternaturally, colour draining as something cold and awful settles uneasily across the room.

“The wards were likely weakened from residual magic,” he grits out, still keeping you wrapped beneath his shadows, as if trying to keep you hidden from them. “Enough for someone to get through.” You press a little closer into the lines of his body, tension beginning to drip away, releasing its hold on your heart. “They’d already tried to take her once. They thought this would be their chance to get back at me.” Shadows writhe across the marble floor, flaring with concealed rage, fury manifesting in his power.

“You think your brothers caused this?” The god asks slowly, eyes once again touring the room, filled with drying gore. Azriel nods, and you begin pulling slowly at your magic, gathering it close to your skin, preparing to jump.

Tension and fear knots your stomach, twisting in vicious carvings as you keep yourself coiled tight beneath the solid frame of Azriel’s form, keeping pressed tight.

Cold violet flicks over the squashed carcass of the young king, distaste passing through his features. “You’re telling me your brothers created a gap in your wards, and she managed to do all this before you noticed?” The god drawls skeptically, voice clean-cut like glass. Azriel’s talons pierce the marble floor. “She went through the Pit,” he repeats lowly, “she’s much stronger than—”

The advisor starts in your peripherals, body jerking to life as the contents of his stomach is heaved upon the floor.

Your tail cracks like a whip, coil snapping free, splattering pieces of flesh against the already blood-caked windows.

Body obliterated in the blink of an eye, before curling back tight to your paws.

Silence buzzes across the room, four pairs of wide eyes watching as bits of intestine drip from the sill, pooling in a gouged-out puddle in the floor. Almost immediately Azriel’s own tail is curling around you comfortingly, shadows stroking at your sides as if to lull you back into a state of ease, soothing the wild drum of your heartbeat, tail twining with your own.

Cold power raises from the floor, darkness thrumming in warning as tension buzzes in your ears, having them flatten against your head.

“How much blood did you give her?” The god’s tone puts fractures into your bones, like rock grinding against rock, grating on your soul.

“As much as she would take,” Azriel replies quietly, and you feel his attention brushing affectionately over your leathery skin. Silence reigns heavily, stretching out as you huddle back into his power, wanting to escape from the immense power of the god.

“You did what?” Elain breathes, eyes wide as she stares at Azriel, grip tightening on her sceptre. She seems to be the only one of the three capable of formulating a response, something blazing in her eyes. “She was going to die, Elain,” he snarls protectively, body settling closer to you. “Because you neglected her,” she hisses, brown eyes cold and hard as they bore into the male. “You plucked her up out of her life, you refused to properly care for her, you were the one who refused to teach her anything because she wasn’t what you wanted.”

Azriel’s snarl is like thunder breaking across the heavens, marble trembling beneath your claws, and you settle against the sound.

Yet it doesn’t seem to bother the priestess.

“If she was the one who tore all these people to shreds,” she breathes, pale blue light blazing from her staff. “It is because you put that anger into her.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x yn #demon!azriel x reader #teeth and talons

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Oh I did not think you would respond that fast. I was just wondering if the possibility was there before I actually….thought about what I wanted. I’m so sorry 💀 uhh hurt/comfort? Maybe Diana catches you working as a vigilante because she spots a bruise on you? Turns out you have more wounds than you thought from the previous night… 🍯

It had been a few days since Diana had seen you. And she was worried.

She couldn't help it. Humans were so very fragile. No matter how strong and resilient. "Y/N?" she called. Unnerved by the quiet in your house. There was no music. No television.

Distantly she could hear water running. Having a bath, perhaps? The thought made her smile. You did like your sweet smelling oils and bath bombs. Bubbles. The more decadent and indulgent, the better. And the thought of you, nude and enjoying yourself was enough to spur her forward. Shrugging out of her jacket and removing her shoes. Rolling up the sleeves of her blouse as she walked.

She nudged the door open, expecting to find you in a state of relaxation. Perhaps purring with pleasure as you pleasured yourself- but.

That isn't what she found.

"Beloved," she gasped. Feeling sick- this might have been worse than finding you in the arms of another. You were hurt.

Tending a wound, a deep, clumsily stitched gash deep in your thigh. "What happened?" she demanded.

"I-" you moved a towel, obscuring the worst of the injuries, "I- Diana I can explain- I-"

"Who did this to you?" she said, crossing the floor and pulling the towel out of the way, inspecting the wounds, heart pounding. Had someone attacked you? Why hadn't you called? It was getting infected. The angry skin was red and too shiny.

"I- I did it to myself technically," you answer. "I it's fine I have an antibiotic and-"

"Beloved?"

"There was a woman- she was... disappearing people. Homeless people and sex workers mostly. People she thought no one would miss... Selling them to be experimented on."

Diana blinked at you and exhaled sharply. "It's too dangerous- you're hurt-"

"She's dead so."

"Does it hurt terribly?" she said, inspecting the wound carefully. Rooting through the first aid kit you had open, "Who put the stitches in?"

"It's not too bad- I did. I didn't realize how deep it was."

Diana nodded and dabbed tenderly with wound disinfectant. Trying to manage her anger. You did a noble thing. And she knew, in her heart that this wasn't the first time. But now? Right now? She was just glad it wasn't worse. Anything else could come later.

#Diana Prince #Diana Prince x reader #ask answered #minors dni #thirst trap thursday

[cottoncandystorm]

Agere Dogday Headcanon (Ecperiment/bigger bodies ver)

☀️ Calls Angel "mama" or "Mommy" when regressed

☀️The biggest he can get is 9

☀️The smallest he can get is 6

☀️ I feel like the Bigger bodies regressed even before the hour of joy (except for Catnap), Catap could always tell when they were regressed and treat them as such, Dogday had no idea what regression was at the time and was always annoyed at Catnap treating him like a kid

☀️After the hour of joy where he was strung up in the playhouse, Dogday might recount memories of rare instances where Catnap still treated him like a child. Catnap would feed him, carry him around like a kitten, and take him into his bedroom where they would snuggle and nap together

☀️ Expect a lot pf Panic attacks while caring for him

☀️ Even though his youngest is 6 during a panic attack he can show more infantile behaviors like crawling, having accidents and sucking on his thumb

☀️Even though he doesn't need padding he still wears them to prevent messes during panic attacks or nightmares

☀️He's incredibly clingy as he feels unsafe without you near, with work and patience he can get better at it but in the beginning if you even so much as leave the room he will whine and follow Angel

☀️It took him a VERY long time to be comfortable around stuffed animals given what happened to him. Angel never forced on him given how they themselves couldn't see stuffed animals the same way after that

☀️because he was hanging in once place for over a decade he has a habit of picking a spot in a room or in the yard and just staying there for the day (another reason for the padding he won't even get up to use the potty)

☀️He mostly plays with toy cars but he was able to get used to a little stuffed bear that used to be Angel's.

☀️Not a very picky eater but his favorite is Mac and cheese

☀️Sleeps on Angels bed everynight or during naps (he doesn't need naps as much as a younger regressor but he's not opposed to slipping into bed with Angel for naptime cuddles...)

☀️likes wearing comfy shirts, overalls, and socks

☀️He loves warm bubble baths and having his fur brushed

#age regression #fandom agere #poppy playtime agere #sfw agere #smiling critters agere #dogday

[doctorbeth]

An elephant story

Today I thought I'd share Celeste's tale. She visited the hospital over the summer. Once upon a time, she was gifted to a baby girl, but after several decades, Celeste had lost her weight and her clothes and was popping seams all over. She was in danger even from the gentlest of hugs! Here are a couple of her many diagnosis photos:

Treatment involved many steps...

Step 1: a spa. You've all seen this, and it was important not only because of her stuffing and fur compression, but to determine her natural color for any transplants. Here she is in her bubble bath:

Of course when she was restuffed, she got a heart of her original stuffing, and it was gray as suited an elephant:

Step 2: Recover her footpads, repair her seams and get her chubbiness right. Here she is after seam repair and foot recovering and in her first chubbiness photo:

Her person wrote "She is looking fabulous!"

We ended up adding a bit more stuffing to plump her up.

Step 3: New velour tusks and a crown! If you know her story, or if you just wondered about the glue ring on her head, you may have seen this step coming:

The crown isn't attached here, because her person was deciding between velour and felt. Her person wrote "Fabulous!! Love the crown!" She went for the velour. :-)

Step 4: New clothes! Here she is all better and fashionably attired in clothes like she once had (or like you may've seen in her books):

Her person wrote: "Ohhh Celeste looks amazing!"

So she flew home --- not far, just another part of CA. And a few days later her person wrote: "Received my beautiful Celeste juat now. Thank you so much for restoring her"

#stuffed animal repair #stuffed animal hospital #toy elephant #stuffed elephant #babar #celeste #celeste elephant #elephant #elephants #cleaning stuffed animals #doll clothes #stuffed animal clothes #stuffed animal clothing #doll clothing

[laspocelliere]

Day Eleven: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Hades had loved once before.

She’d come into his life like summer rain and autumn sunsets, bubbling over with an infectious energy that swept him up and carried him beyond what he’d thought possible. She was power, and beauty, and laughter, and she was his, she was his, she was his. And he was hers in return, completely and irrevocably, his soul tied to hers in ways that defied all reason so he no longer wondered where he began and ended; it was only her, ever her, the two of them together and facing the world even as it threatened ruin.

Until she was gone.

Until she left him, and he stood alone in ashes.

He would never love again.

—

Zenos had loved once before.

While he couldn’t be certain what love felt like, he knew bliss, and reason, and that was close enough for him to grasp tight, squeezing the sensation until he could compress it in his palm, hard as stone and twice as indestructible. 

The elation he’d felt – that she’d given him – was something that couldn’t be replicated. He felt it in every blow dealt, in every drop of blood spilled. Finally, giving way to her base instincts, he’d seen the truth behind her eyes, and had bathed in it blissfully. Her rage, her indignation, her utterly beautiful broken heart; she bared it all to him in that moment, and he wanted nothing less than to take it from her once more, to share that adrenaline rush that came only with combat, and death.

Without her, life was once more meaningless.

He would never love again.

—

The Exarch had loved once before.

She was young, but he was younger, and his infatuation had only grown once she was gone. He remembered a hero, strong and true, with a reservation behind her eyes that he felt a desperate, deeply-embedded need to unravel. The mystery of her haunted him through the years, decades beyond their meeting, and far longer than he ever could have anticipated. He devoured stories about her, frantic for any mention of her name, or her titles, no matter how fragmented the document, or how badly passed-down the story. She consumed his thoughts, and so he consumed her story, taking her name and making it sacred, as it should have been from the start.

When he arrived on the First, he kept his eyes hidden, refusing to meet the gaze of anyone who wasn’t her – his long-awaited, storied hero, finally brought back to him across time and space, no matter the cost.

He’d heard talk about his romantic interests, but they were nothing. He would wait, and when the time was right, he would call her to his side.

He would never love again.

—

She came back wrong, and Emet-Selch hated her for it. 

Her soul was perfect, that much was plain to see. It was what it had arrived in that he held issue with; this woman who dared to claim her own individuality over that of his beloved, who had the audacity to separate herself from who she was, no matter how hard she fought. She looked at him with those piercing eyes, and he told himself he felt nothing. She wept, alone in her room and alone in her burdens, and as he watched from the shadows he told himself he felt nothing.

She faced him, naked sword in hand, bound together with the strength of his Azem and her own might combined, and felled him in a movement that he thought he’d been waiting for for a long, long time.

Then he was gone, but the memory of her stayed.

And when the time came that she needed him, desperately, he would come.

He would never love again.

But he loved her anyway.

—

Zenos came back wrong, and she hated him for it.

Her hatred fueled him, serving only as coals to flame the fire of his determination. She loathed him with a passion that kindled his own, his very own mirror working in tandem to him even as she denied their bond. She consumed his every thought, waking and nightmare and anywhere in between, her very essence calling out to him to reunite once more in that moment of unity and life that no other living creatures could possibly experience together. 

He allowed the presence of the Ascian, and he gathered aether, and he honed his blade for her supple flesh, and he waited.

Somewhere along the way, he’d identified that what he felt wasn’t love. Love, as an emotion, was fragile and meaningless, and far beneath any descriptor of what he was offering his hero in exchange for his devotion to her in combat. Love, after all, wasn’t something he cared to experience.

And yet it was still the only word that seemed to fit.

He would never love again.

But he loved her anyway.

—

When G’raha Tia returned to the Source, he began to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t the only one who was different.

He’d spent so many centuries poring over his hero’s name that somewhere along the way he’d turned her into something mythical, even beyond what she’d managed on her own. When he’d summoned her to the First, she wasn’t the young adventurer he’d explored the Crystal Tower with in his youth. Something had irrevocably changed in her, something that couldn’t be defined in history books.

Or maybe he hadn’t been looking hard enough the first time.

With the sensation of carefully closing away a precious relic, or a childhood security, he tucked away his affections for the Warrior of Light, somewhere alongside his Exarch cowl and his penchant for theatrics. The girl he loved no longer existed; instead, there was a woman who had fought for worlds, with the weight of millions on her back, and had won. And that, too, was worthy of loving, even if it wasn’t a fraction of what he’d known before.

He would never love again.

But he loved her anyway.

—

Aymeric hadn’t understood love.

Through his life, he’d encountered facets of it, like reflective shards of a precious jewel. His adoptive parents, his comrades in the Holy See, the goddess Halone, the people of Ishgard, the rough beauty of Coerthas itself. He’d tried to understand it, an affection-starved child growing into an equally starved man, spending a lifetime finally understanding that there were certain things that some people weren’t entitled to have. Love, it seemed, was only for the worthy.

And then she’d walked into his life, and turned everything he thought he knew asunder. 

She was quiet, and she was strong. She was bright, and she was stubborn. She was the break of sunlight over the mountains, the shaft of moonlight filtering through stained glass, the wild beauty of the distant pines, the warm comfort of a private hearth. She was the air he breathed, the standard he held himself against to make himself worthy of her. She held as many walls around her heart as he did, and she was braver than anyone he’d ever known, because she lowered them for him, even through her sharp, bracing fear, that she then allowed him to hold in his hands, trusting him not to let them loose.

Aymeric didn’t understand love, any more than any man.

But what he had, he would give to her, and give to her, and give to her, to make up for all that she was starved of. And he would expect nothing in return.

He loved her, and he would never love again.

He would simply love better, every day that she breathed.

#ffxivwite #ffxivwrite2023 #this one is REAL rough #but you get the idea #emet selch #crystal exarch #zenos #zenos yae galvus #aymeric #aymeric de borel #wolmeric #endwalker spoilers #idk what else to tag #boys down bad for the WoL #basically

[bloodyknucklesforme]

I Can't Help Myself | Carnal XIV

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, smut

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Can't Help Myself - Alexandra Savior

She took long baths, frequently. Water hot enough to burn her toes as she stepped in. Johnny had said she smelled like vanilla so soon a box filled with vanilla scent body care had arrived. Gourmand bubbles that threatened to overfill the tub.

She’d let herself slip, feet coming gliding out the one end while her head sank violently into the water. Stories about women bathing in perfume rewound in her mind.

She was afraid that Johnny would leave. He’d told her he would, that he wanted to stay. Then he and Simon would spend hours talking and she felt like a little girl spying on her father’s dinners. 

Simon was something else. She wouldn’t say she was afraid of him, cautious was a safer term. Excited was another word.

He made her want more from the world. That there was something else out there. Johnny and her were content in their little world but she wanted more. She wanted to learn to hunt, to prove she could take care of herself.  

Her hair was still damp when she went downstairs for breakfast. Johnny had made her tea just how she liked it. He and Simon were eating breakfast. They’d left a plate out for her. Eggs, toast and bacon. She sat between them at the table.

“How’re your arms?” Simon asked, holding out a hand to her. She pulled up her sleeve. It had mostly healed, a couple deeper gashes were still bandaged up. Simon’s hands were cold as they examined her. Johnny’s foot rubbed against hers.

Anytime Simon got too close Johnny would do something as a reminder that he was there. Not possessive, just a reminder. 

She wanted a second cup of tea. 

The fridge was running low. No milk, wilted green, green cheese. She hadn’t gone shopping in over a week, more occupied with Johnny’s recovery than anything domestic. 

“I’ll do the shopping today,” she said, scribbling down a list. She liked going early in the mornings, avoiding most of the town's crowd. 

She grabbed a couple reusable bags, her purse and a coat.

“You can’t take Johnny’s car.” Simon said. 

“Wasn’t planning too.”

“You walking?” 

“I have two legs.”

“I’ll drive.”

“No.”

“Not a question. Rained last night, it’s cold and foggy. I already have one body to get rid of. Don’t add to it.” 

She directed him into town even if he didn’t seem to need it. His car was an old Land Rover. Older than her at least. He took good care of it. Clean, detailed, didn’t shake as it took the curves. 

She kept her gaze out the window. His reflection came clear at particularly foggy stretches. He was wearing a black surgical mask and kept his hood up. He huffed when she told him to pull into Waitrose.

“What?” She frowned.

“Nothing.” 

“You coming in?”

“I’m not a dog.”

He followed her around as she shopped. The few eyes in the store still lingered on them. She was the weird girl. The girl who barely left her house, the haunted house. It was a couple weeks prior she was here with Johnny and now there was this other strange man. 

“Oh Nina! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” A shopping cart, piloted by an older woman, had come out in front of hers.

“Miss. Carter.” She said curtly. She had vague memories of her and Mr. Carter attending her father’s dinners a decade and a half ago. 

“How are you? You’ve gained weight!” She reached over and laid a hand on Nina’s stomach. “And who’s this?” Too many questions.

“My cousin… on my mother’s side.” 

“I didn’t know your mother had siblings.” She had a hand on Nina’s arm, a thin fleshed handcuff. 

“I imagine you don’t know lots of things.” Miss. Carter’s face dropped. Nina pushed her cart around her. “Excuse me.” 

“Your father would never approve of how you’re acting, Nina. Having strange men in the house, your father’s house! He would -”

“He blew his brains out in our dining room in front of me. He clearly didn’t care about the house or what I did with it after. Kindly fuck off.” Nina made sure to knock Miss. Carter’s cart to the side harshly. 

“Cousins?” Simon’s eyebrow raised as Nina grabbed flour and yeast off the shelf. She wanted to try baking again. 

“Johnny has a type apparently.” They had matching brown eyes and if his hair was longer than a buzz it could have been a similar shade of blonde to hers. Not a mirror but a variation, something better and stronger. Looking at him like this made her stomach warm. She didn’t know in what way but she wanted him in her mouth. 

He put a lot of salt into the cart. Twine too. Various spices, herbs, cooking oils. She let him add whatever he wanted. 

“Sweet tooth?” He asked when she put a white frosted cake into the cart. 

“I like cake.” She shrugged. He grabbed a pack of biscuits and tossed them in as well. 

Cleaning chemicals and bin bags. 

“Is there a drain in the stable?” 

“I believe so.”

He nodded. 

His grip on the cart was tight as the price on the till went up. Her father had left enough money for her that it wasn’t a questionable sum.

He pushed the cart back to the car. It had started sprinkling again and the air was colder. 

They loaded everything and shut the boot. She stepped out to walk around the car when Simon’s arm looped around her waist and pulled her back. A car whipped past them down the aisle. Simon yelled out a curse. 

“Sorry.” He let go of her. She could feel his arm around her, constricting muscle that lifted her up off her feet. Her body felt hot under her coat and sweater even though her face chilled with the wind. 

He honked the horn and she hurried into the car. 

“You walk all this way?”

“I did. Still do sometimes. When Johnny’s not around.”

“Old boyfriend wouldn’t drive you?”

“Never around much before…” She made a vague gesture to her neck with a grimace. She still thought about him on occasion and not always in a negative way. She did care about him up until the moment. 

“I’ll drive you until we can clean Johnny’s car.” No discussion. 

Nina and Johnny put the groceries away while Simon took the chemicals and bin bags to the stable. He said it would take a couple hours to clean up. Johnny volunteered to make dinner and then quickly asked Nina for help. 

The rain continued through the afternoon. She found Johnny napping in his room. She watched from the doorway for a moment. She was trying to not think about Simon. How his arm felt, how he smelled, how his eyes felt as forceful as his hands. 

“Need something, bon?” Johnny asked, not opening his eyes. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“Could smell ya before I heard ya.” He beckoned her over lazily. She climbed onto the bed and tucked herself into his side. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I want to fuck.” She rested her chin on his chest. He opened his eyes and smirked at her. 

It was easiest if she was on top, careful of his stitches. Her skirt hiked up to her hips and her sweater bunched up above her breasts. Johnny pinched and tugged on her nipples as she stroked his cock. 

“So pretty.” He smiled up at her. It was so easy with him, so nice. He looked at her like he got off on her pleasure rather than resenting it. His touch was delicate and precise. Quick circles around her clit. His finger slid between her folds, she was wet for him. “There we go, my pretty girl.”

He held her hand as she lowered herself onto his cock. Their moans harmonizing sweetly. 

“Johnny Johnny Johnny.” Rosemary. He smelled like rosemary and sweat. He was holding her hand and he smelt like rosemary. He was rubbing her clit and calling her pretty. They didn’t even bother with a condom this time. She wanted him to finish inside her. She wanted to know what it felt like. She wouldn’t call it love but it was close enough. Pushing her closer to the edge. “Oh fuck. Johnny! Please Please Please!”

Cedar…She held it in her head for a brief moment and then it was gone. Johnny’s hands held firm on her hips, holding her up as she came. He thrusted upwards, groaning loudly as he came. He tucked her in against his side, fingers playing with her hair.

“You okay, Nina?”

She nodded and kissed his chest. They stayed like that till the late afternoon. Simon pushed out of her head and away from her. 

She took a cold shower, alone. Her hand finding itself between her legs again, thinking of Johnny and Simon. Johnny with Simon. Simon with her. Johnny with Simon and her. She came so hard she almost fell over. She rested her forehead against the tile and let the water beat down on her back. Her mouth was dry. 

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @cathnoneofyourbusiness @pssytrux

Lmk if you want to be added ❤️

#Carnal #simon ghost riley x oc #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #modern warfare II #modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #call of duty #john soap mactavish #John soap mactavish x oc #soapghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap #dark fic #ghoap

[tiny-elf-of-doom]

Ghouls Smell Good 😮‍💨

As a fragrance nut, this headcanon didn’t take long to come up with. I think that the natural scents that radiate from each ghoul are vastly different to attract certain people. Like pheromones on humans, these are what the ghouls and ghoulettes have to offer.

~~~~~🫧~~~~~~

Aether: very strong frankincense, myrrh, and white musk. He smells of incense burning in an ancient chapel with velvet lined floors and secrets in the confessional.

Dewdrop: a numbing blend of fragrant spices, layered with warm amber. The scent plays on the mood he is in. Sometimes it’s overwhelming while other times it’s soft.

Rain: petrichor and aldehydes. He is the perfect clean boy sitting in a bubble bath, outside as a storm approaches. Wet stones, dirt, and metallic notes.

Swiss: decadent, gourmand notes of spicy vanilla and caramel. This ghoul smells like the sugar on a crème brûlée, freshly singed, sweet, and crisp.

Mountain: oddly enough, tobacco. Definitely not cigarette tobacco, but something sweeter, earthier. A smoky pipe being smoked by a hiker in the mountains.

Cirrus: atmospheric and hard to explain. A skin scent with soft floral, benzoin, and orange. Perhaps a tad powdered as if a greenhouse were dusted in baby powder.

Cumulus: sugared roses baked into a strawberry pie. It’s very sweet but it did burn around the edges. Metallic twinges with the fruit, taming the sugary bite.

Sunshine: bright floral, honest sunshine. Citrus flare with oranges, lemon, and soft jasmine. She is the epitome of happiness in a fragrance. Sunshine might also be drizzled in honey.

~~~~~~~~

Ft.

Phantom: chocolate ganache, marshmallow, tonka, and pepper. Seriously a nightmare dressed like a day dream, fluffy with an edge.

Aurora: a candy scent of caramel apple. Tart, sweet, and colorful, she screams nostalgia. This might be why I have an hc that she’s great with children. Kids love candy!

Wish (my oc): “fruit, floral, and a dash of honey” (chapter 1). Similar to Gucci flora, but with an underlying powder.

#the band ghost #tobias forge #papa emeritus 3 #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus 1 #papa emeritus 2 #ghost #ghost memes #shit ghosting #ghost oc #nameless ghouls #aether #sodo ghost #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #nameless ghoulettes #phantom #oc ghoul

[bisexualhomelander]

Shipping headcanons for Butchlander: SFW 11 and NSFW 9, if you please. :)

Baths or showers? Together or separate? Any bubbles or bubble fights?

I once mentioned in a fic that I see them as the type for both. Showers are for sex and washing away the remnants of gore. Baths are for the sweet, sweet intimacy.

I rarely see them as actually living in one place, so the showers are mostly separate simply because they spend time at home a lot. But if they are sharing any of their apartments, Homelander insists on showering together. Billy might prefer to do it alone, but - I mean, how alone are you when one of them can see through the shower tile?

Bubble baths are for when they're feeling soft. Once a year. Decade. It only happens in Homelander's bath tub because look me in the eye and tell me Butcher owns bubble bath.

Quickest turn ons? Immediate turn offs?

ON:

fighting

blood

one of them mentioning "scorched earth"

one of them either intentionally or accidentally calling Billy "Daddy" (which Butcher does canonically, weirdly, so this isn't even a hc)

OFF:

mentioning old partners (do I have to say more)

Homelander using powers and not warning prior to using any

the bedroom mirror extravaganza

each other's outfits

I just realize this is mostly Billy experiencing turn-offs, but truth be told, it's very hard to turn Homelander off

#billy butcher #homelander #butchlander #ask game