#its my blog and i get to choose the content!!!

[ghouljams]

Fuck it, art of Witch under the cut.

God I love her so much.

[bittersweet-mojo]

touchy touchy

[redbirdi]

i can't be the only one who feels nothing but apathy towards jason & tim as a duo. its bland its boring its fanon's favourite invention for some reason. please i'm begging

[thatawkwardangel]

what. is cheerwine. that sounds like something a gnome would drink also unrelated question do you have a pointy red hat

... pffffft hah no, I'm not a gnome hah that's suuuuch a funny thing to say anyway WHAT'S THAT OVER THERE *casually tosses asside a big red pointy hat that sort of just awkwardly rolls around on the floor because it's conical*

I'm not sure how far Cheerwine's reach is, but it's a cherry-flavored soda sold in the southeastern states. For a long time I could only get some when I was visiting family further south, so my parents would always buy a case or two to bring back home with us (which me and my siblings would either carefully ration or drink within a few days). It was also the only cafinated soda I was allowed to have as a kid since it was basically given a 'special occasions' exemption.

I've only just started seeing them around local stores, but it's still a rare find compared to other soft drink brands. And while my favoritism for Cheerwine may come from my brain associating it with liquid gold, I do stand by the taste!! It's definently sweeter than other sodas, but that's partly because the cherry flavor is at the forefront rather than being added on for a variation of a different drink.

[lorillee]

actually im posting this on here too since it makes me so mad. few things more annoying to me than people pretentiously saying about how everybody needs to reblog art or else theyre taking a gun and shooting an artist personally and yet the only art reblogged on their blog is by seasoned/skilled artists like... hmmmmmmmm ....... okay sure bud

[wizard-of-weed]

whats a suitable reward for doing the dishes? i am all out of stickers

[molotovmetro]

Sometimes I feel bad for most of my posts being shitposts and reblogs when my blog used to be probably 90% fics/hcs with the occasional art reblog

But honestly I'm kinda enjoying just being Some Guy lol

[incomprehensiblegiberish]

I think that its really nice to be not talented at something, but slowly manage to become really good at that thing.

As an example when I started doing band (I play flute), i was. So bad it-- I couldn't read sheet music, i wrote my notes in wrong, i couldn't play things without a fingering chart in front of me, i was embarrassed to practice at home, I was second to last chair placement, the only thing stopping me from last chair was because the last chair didn't even do anything during class.

But last time we had chair placements (We haven't gotten ours yet since. year just started-) I was 3rd chair. I had gone up chair placements almost every assignment. I even did a solo!!!

It felt far more rewarding than if I had just been good from the start. And!! I got a cool fun hobby and something to pass time with on the weekends (PRACTICING!!! WITH MY BROTHER!!!)

This should be something that more people should enjoy i think, whats the point in being good at something if you never had to be good at it? Wheres the fun in that?? Go do that thing youre awful at!!! Go have fun with it!!!!! Laugh at your mistakes!!!!!!1 Go!!! Keep doing it!!! Intil you stop making the same mistakes!!!1 You will eventually get really good at it!!1!!!

Good luck to all learning new skills or hobbies or games or anything else ever <3

[fatliberation]

If its ok to ask; how do you feel about fat kinks? I havent seen any fat acceptance blogs talk abt it. /genq

I know it's a sore spot for a lot of fat liberationists (and yes, I'm quite familiar with why so please do not take to my inbox), I think people are scared to talk about it. personally, I think it is crucial that people with fat kinks are able to access fat liberation spaces so long as they leave the kink at the door. I say this not only because the majority of them are fat people, but because that community is steeped in a deep shame and feeling of brokenness for taking delight in fatness and/or weight gain, which perpetuates rampant fatphobia. and fat liberation is what will heal those wounds. I don't understand it when fat activists tell kinksters/fetishists/feedists, whatever you want to call them to stay out of the fat liberation movement. because what is the alternative? do you want them against the movement? that doesn't make sense at all. I think people are so uncomfortable, disgusted, or afraid of this community they don't understand, that they just wish they wouldn't exist. they aren't going away. kink is akin to sexuality, to identity, to queerness. I think what people really mean when they say feedists should stay out of fat lib is, "kink should stay within spaces designated for kink." we aren't talking about kink when it comes to who can belong in a movement, we are talking about people. it is wrong to equate every person who has a kink or a fetish to a predator. it causes very real harm to those people, because they internalize that message that their kink makes them a bad person who is inherently worthless, who has to hide. if feedists aren't welcome in fat liberation, they aren't welcome anywhere.

I think that people who love fat people, love feeding people, love their own fat bodies, who see their fattest selves as their most satisfying selves, would be natural allies to this movement once they find their way to it and feel safe and accepted here. I want to make it absolutely clear that ANYONE is welcome on this blog as long as they aren't harassing or harming anyone. so many of my followers and biggest supporters are kink blogs. some of my closest friends and fat liberationist allies are feedists. I know feedists who are way more educated and passionate about fat lib and body politics than most people I've met. I don’t wish for anyone to feel alienated on my blog - especially fellow fat folks and fellow fat allies. we are 100% FAT POSITIVE AND SEX POSITIVE on this blog, babey‼️

In fact I feel really glad when I see fat kink/feedism blogs engaging with my content bc it means that person is putting the work in to understand systemic fatphobia, how to be an ally to fat people (if they aren't fat themselves), but also healing their community through education and acceptance. and HOT TAKE, BUT: when it does happen?? when feedists aren't shrouded in internalized fatphobia, shame, and isolation, and instead start embracing this innate, powerful appreciation for fatness, it's literally so fucking beautiful? and so very queer?

choosing to gain weight on purpose as an act of self creation. because it feels Right for you. gaining weight to affirm the relationship you have with your body. getting fatter because you feel so much of your identity (even gender presentation!) is attached to your fat body. feeling sexiest when you're fat. someone else worshipping that about you. giving unlimited permission to nourish yourself and/or others - and taking carnal delight in it. releasing food rules and food guilt through centering pleasure. food and fatness as an erotic and sensory experience. finding feedist partners who also have this ingrained love of fatness that can't be replicated, partners who are willing and eager to support and adore your fat body, NOT merely tolerate it. reclaiming tropes used against you through kink, and turning a loving gaze inward. saying "fuck you" to the system and choosing to take up more space in a world that consistently tries to shrink you. never denying yourself pleasure even though everyone is telling you you don't deserve it. feedism is such an interesting facet of the endless spectrum of human sexuality and I think that once people in that community find liberation and heal their relationship to the kink, it can be one of the most radical forms of self acceptance and exercising complete bodily autonomy.

I already know that a love letter to feedism coming from a fat lib blog is gonna piss people off. I'm going to lose a lot of followers, I'm going to get a lot of hate. but. kink in general is SO demonized and SO misunderstood and as liberationists we should also be open to sexual liberation. so much of this discomfort around feedism comes from a lack of education and understanding about kink in general. feedism doesn't = fatphobia in the same way that bdsm doesn't = misogyny or abuse. quite the contrary, if practiced ethically, with informed consent. every community has assholes. especially when those communities are small, ostracized, and so young that there are next to zero resources for self acceptance, safety, education, and accountability. in fact, the assholes are the ones that you're going to SEE because every respectful person is staying away and out of your business. if you've been harassed by someone with a fat kink, that is so shitty and I'm sorry that happened to you. I know it happens a lot. try to remember that what you experienced was abuse, not kink.

what consenting individuals choose to do with their bodies is entirely their business and there is nothing wrong with kink. (and I will not stand for sex-negative, puritan bullshit in my inbox, thank you very much.)

reminder: fat pleasure is fat liberation.

[dailydoseofveigar]

Day 74: How daring a crossover episode

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I'm an A-Level student and so many of my classmates use ChatGPT for essays in Law and RS and stuff - like, they sound proud of themselves, as if they're cheating the system and being clever? Just makes me feel very bleak. What are we doing man

Well, the unfortunate news for them is that they are going to struggle if they make it to uni.

This is the big problem with AI - it cannot analyse a single thing. If I were to say to you "What are the features Tumblr users would most want and why?", you are a human being with a brain and experiences and decision-making skills, and you could probably sit and come up with an answer. You would base that answer on things you personally find lacking, or want to see; you would also base it in things you have seen others bemoaning on the site.

For example, I reckon I'd say something like:

The permanent ability to boop people with a cat paw, which is implemented as opt-in. Also customisable, so you can choose whether you want a random cat paw to appear on your screen each time it happens to you. Also a different animation for super boop/evil boop, and maybe more boop options than those two, and maybe also different paw colours.

Actual enforcement of hate speech rules. We all agree to them when we join, so it's perfectly legal to delete someone for spouting Nazi shit AND YET.

No more banning or censoring queer folks' accounts

More ability to adjust the interface for disabled bloggers, e.g. colour and contrast, font, layout, switching off moving GIFs or other animations by default, etc.

Tag editing, it's frustrating having to delete whole tags.

Tag memory! Where have my tags gone??? For a year now I have slightly better luck on desktop, but for the most part, which of my tags are remembered by autofill and which are never, ever offered to me has been wholly divorced from how often I've used them. And my tags are often lengthy and odd, so it's become much harder to use mobile.

No data scraping. This is the anti-cap site thank you. Also on that note, get rid of the For You section and any other algorithmic tracking, because it's just as likely to show you a Nazi blog as an anti-Nazi one as long as you have spent any time at all discussing Nazism.

Better blocking ability, on that note.

Better search function

I could go on, but you get the idea. That's analysis that I've done, based on discussions I have seen and taken part in, and my own experiences.

I just asked ChatGPT. Here's what it had to say:

"Tumblr users have diverse preferences, but there are several features that many users would likely appreciate: 1. Improved Content Discovery: Tumblr is known for its vast array of content, so improving content discovery mechanisms such as personalized recommendations, trending topics, and enhanced search functionality can help users find more of the content they enjoy. 2. Enhanced Customization Options: Tumblr users value the ability to customize their blogs extensively. Providing more themes, layout options, and customization tools can empower users to express themselves creatively and make their blogs unique. 3. Integration of Multimedia Formats: Tumblr is a platform where users share various types of multimedia content, including images, GIFs, videos, and audio. Enhancing support for different media formats, improving media upload and management features, and optimizing the viewing experience can enhance user engagement. 4. Improved Mobile Experience: Many Tumblr users access the platform via mobile devices. Therefore, optimizing the mobile app for better performance, usability, and feature parity with the desktop version can greatly enhance the user experience. 5. Community Engagement Features: Tumblr has a vibrant community, so features that facilitate interaction among users, such as improved messaging, reblogging, tagging, and commenting functionalities, can foster a sense of community and increase user engagement. 6. Content Moderation Tools: Given the diverse content on Tumblr, providing users with robust content moderation tools, including options for filtering, blocking, and reporting inappropriate content, can help ensure a safer and more enjoyable experience for all users. 7. Monetization Options for Creators: Many Tumblr users are content creators who would appreciate opportunities to monetize their content. Introducing features such as ad revenue sharing, subscription-based content, or integrated e-commerce capabilities can incentivize creators to produce high-quality content and invest more in their Tumblr presence. 8. Accessibility Features: Improving accessibility features such as alt text support for images, screen reader compatibility, and customizable text sizes and color schemes can make Tumblr more inclusive and accessible to users with disabilities. 9. Privacy and Security Enhancements: Enhancing privacy controls, data protection measures, and account security features can help users feel more confident and secure when using the platform, which is especially important given concerns about online privacy and security. 10. API and Third-Party Integration: Opening up Tumblr's API and allowing for easier integration with third-party services and apps can encourage innovation and development within the Tumblr ecosystem, providing users with more options and flexibility in how they use the platform. Overall, focusing on improving content discovery, customization options, community engagement, and user safety while also providing opportunities for creators to monetize their content can help Tumblr retain and attract users in a competitive social media landscape."

It's possible that feels alright, on first glance. But take a closer look.

Every point made is vague, and disconnected from any real life examples. In the very first point, it thinks we want better search functions (yes!) but also more algorithmic recommendations (no!). It wants us to have personalised recommendations AND better security, in fact, which are incompatible - but an LLM doesn't and can't know that. Monetisation of the platform is something that has historically faced appalling backlash from users, and this thing is suggesting ad revenue sharing and subscription services.

Because, its suggestions are generic suggestions. These are not Tumblr-specific. No mention of queerphobia, no mention of Nazis, and absolutely zero understanding of what the specific users on this site actually want.

... all of which is to say...

It's what is academically known as descriptive work. It lays out some facts, but there's no depth, no analysis, no interpretation of those facts at all. Why would we want third party integration? What apps are we calling for? Give examples. Would that aid ad-blocking? Search functions? In that case, wouldn't third-party integration be tackling the symptoms and not the cause? Shouldn't we work better ad-blocking and search functions into Tumblr at a base level?

And in school - even up to A Level - that's okay. You won't get top marks for that, because it's all too vague and too descriptive, but it's fine. School-level assignments tend to be more broad and less applied, too, which LLMs fare better with.

But in university, you start with descriptive facts, and then you are expected to analyse. If you cannot analyse, you run a very real risk of failing. Which means if you've spent your GCSEs and A Levels not bothering to learn those analytical skills and letting ChatGPT do the work for you, you are going to face an extremely uphill struggle when the expectations of study increase.

So, to round off, try not to get too discouraged. You know you aren't doing it, which means you are the one actually learning and developing and growing. Others will learn eventually, and probably more painfully. You do you!

[frillsand]

☆ Adding a Star to the pile!

Honestly, it was a long time coming. Your actor AU is one of my all time fav AU's I've personally come across, and I always adore seeing what new stuff you've put up on your blog when you can. Whether it be text or images, I love seeing and reading them. You put a lot into it, and I enjoy seeing what you whip up in your art as well. It is a very nice and cute style to me.

I just, enjoy seeing your world building and thought you put into it, through the ask and illustrations you add. In fact, I even watched The Happy Time Murders (admittingly not great in story and way to immature humor for my normal taste, but has its upsides in puppetry and world building) just to get more background and ideas of how you were making this, and boy, are you scratching the worldbuidling itch that was left with me after watching it.

Aside from that, I also relate to some of the stuff you talk about, like your confidence in your art. It is nice to be reminded that we all have those doubts, even when subjectively the art is very nice. It just might be an artist thing, whether you're a professional or a hobbiest, to see how good everyone else's work is but your own at times.

Sorry if I'm a bit wordy, but I just like to gush sometime. I have been learning that I can tend to be a bit quiet on stuff I adore and enjoy, so giving my fave blogs a reminder that there are those like me who enjoy stuff kinda silently feels nice.

I’ve stared at your words for a while and even now as I try, the words still escape my mind. I can’t help but find your comment very comforting and reassuring to hear that my effort is visible, even if it’s only a hobby. I don’t usually have people looking my way so this is very weird to me, and I know there’s many AU’s to choose from, I’m just glad people spend the time to look through mine.

I might not respond to everyone but be assured that I look at every single comment and will continue to do so until the content stops and we all slowly part ways

[pinkkittysaw]

HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF

title is based off the song hungry like the wolf by duran duran

halloween night of horrors masterlist can be found here!

pairing: werewolf clive rosfield x f!reader

summary: your lover always disappears on the night of a full moon every month and you’re determined to figure out why

word count: 8,331 (don’t perceive me 🫣)

content: NSFW (minors + ageless blogs DNI you will be blocked) minor plot spoilers, monsterfucking, teratophilia, knotting, blood, choking, established relationship, slight dumbification, minor breast/nipple play, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink, manhandling, belly bulge/pushing, spit, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, scent kink, scratching, biting, one spank, hints of degradation, praise, pet names (sweetheart, darling, love) reader is wearing a dress

* i want to give a BIG thank you to @strawberrystepmom for answering all my anatomical questions and helping me through my writing process! she also has a werewolf fic of her own if you want to check it out ^_^

a/n: AND I LASTED TEN ROUNDS LIKE A FREAKKKKK LIKE A GGGGGGGGG. this was inspired by the beach scene with clive and jill, iykyk. I WILL NEVER BE NORMAL AGAIN THANKS TO THEM!!truly did not expect this to get as long as it did but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

recommended listening for this fic is MONSTER by lady gaga

divider by @/benkeibear

Waves crash at your toes from where you stand on the shoreline, and the fire you made from scattered kindling on the rocky beach crackles in the background, its golden flame shining bright against the navy blue sky.

You sigh, staring into the dark ether, hoping and praying for an answer to your troubles. The cold water laps at your feet, manifesting a shiver in your spine that flows throughout the rest of your body. Grumbling, you glare back at Metia and the full moon with disdain, acting as if the two of them were in cahoots with each other, taunting you. You huff, shoving your arms to your sides with clenched fists as you continue to bitch, arguing with the moon and stars above.

"You're not even going to help me? Even though you're the cause of all this?"

Your index finger is shoved into the sky, pointing directly at the hunk of rock that floats within it, and it's not long after that gust of wind blows through you, billowing through the skirt of your pale dress, causing it to fly in right your face, a protest of sorts in response to the little tantrum you were throwing.

You fold the fabric back down onto your legs, holding its hem while letting out a snide, "Well, I hope the two of you are enjoying yourselves," before you turn your back in defiance and slosh through the ankle-deep water toward the fire, choosing to settle down on your bed roll for the night.

You shouldn't be surprised. All your prayers turned out to be for naught; it'd be foolish to think that this time would be any different.

You pout and pull your knees to your chest, settling your cheeks on the joints of your legs as you stare into the fiery embers, the sand scratching the skin between your toes as they curl into the seashore. You had long since forgone your sandals, as keeping the granules out of the material proved to be a losing battle.

"This was such a foolish idea," you mutter to yourself, choosing to reflect on the actions that brought you here.

You and Clive had been courting for several months now, and in that time you began to notice a particular pattern he developed. During the three days surrounding every full moon, he always disappeared without a trace, unable to be found anywhere in the hideaway.

It wasn't uncommon for Clive to be away from the hideout; if anything, he was probably away from it more than he wasn't, always coming to someone's aid. As long as they roamed the lands of Valisthea, he'd be there.

But after three separate occurrences of him disappearing around the same set of circumstances, it began to look less and less like a coincidence and more like a habit. The first two times he "vanished," you had attributed the cause to "business as usual," assuming he was off assisting the curse breakers or aiding in the transportation of recently freed bearers, but the longer the two of you stayed together, the more prominent his disappearances became. 

You had confronted him about it once, apprehensively inquiring if he had taken on another lover during his time away. You heard the tale of his time in North Reach before he, Cid, and Jill eventually set their sights on destroying Drake's head. Maybe he'd found a courtesan at The Veil on his returning trip to Sanbreque after word of Isabelle needing his assistance came in.

He immediately shot the notion down, sympathizing with your cause of concern. He reassured you that you were the only one for him, and you believed him, of course. He's been nothing but loyal and devoted to you throughout your whole relationship so far. Even Jill stepped in and vouched for him at one point, stating that "cheating was far beneath him" and that he "treasured you more than anything else in the realm."

Yet he still didn't do much in providing an actual explanation for where he was going, stumbling through an excuse about the Mothercrystals and needing to stay away for your protection, but the risks of danger hadn't stopped him from brainstorming strategies with you before, so why now all of a sudden was he coddling you like a child? If not a secret lover, then what else could be hiding from you? Not even the collection of books residing in the Shelves provided an answer as to why your lover would disappear for three days time every full moon.

The longer this went on, the more you assumed everyone was just taking the piss out of you. Sure, most people in the hideaway were often busy with their own assignments, but you couldn't have been the only person who noticed a similar pattern of behavior, right?

You took to asking people around the hideout if they noticed a change in Clive's demeanor, with most of them stating that he'd been acting as he usually would, nothing out of the ordinary, while some others, mainly Tarja, thought it'd be funny to get a bit cheeky with you, commenting, "Wouldn't you be the one to notice if he was behaving strangely?" She means no real offense, so you try your best not to get frustrated with the more empty answers you're handed. It wasn't their fault that your lover was so cagey about his whereabouts. It's not like they were his keeper, as he was the one everyone answered to. You even took to inquiring Otto about it, though it didn't prove to be any more fruitful as he spat out the same Mothercrystals excuse as Clive did.

Your last and final hope was Jill. She had known Clive the longest—since they were children; if anyone were to have insight on what was going on with him, it'd be her, but you're met with similar responses as Clive and Otto. An apprehensive look crossed her features when you asked her if she knew why Clive was disappearing each month or where he went. She simply shrugged her shoulders, shook her head, and stated that she hadn't noticed anything strange going on with him, which only proved to make you more suspicious. 

Having had enough of the unanswered questions, you decided that the (not-so) smartest thing to do would be to take a little trip during the week of the full moon and not tell anyone. Was it a bit selfish? Desperate? Yes, but you rationalized that if you disappeared during that time, Clive would have no choice but to come out of hiding and look for you, thus leaving you free to discuss his whereabouts. It definitely wasn't the most well-thought-out plan you've ever come up with, but the lack of transparency was beginning to drive you mad.

The next few weeks were spent making preparations for the trip ahead in secret, taking on extra assignments to save up gil so you could spend a few nights at an inn. The night before your departure, you decided to take on all outstanding alliant reports on the bulletin while everyone was asleep so that you could circumvent a scolding from Otto about skipping out on your duties when you returned.

Early to rise the next morning, you gather a small pack of your belongings and shuffle off toward the pier before Clive awoke, careful to slip from his gentle embrace so as to not rouse him from his slumber. You glance down at his sleeping face, taking in how peaceful he looked while resting.

You gather your pack and make your way toward the boats. The sunrise on the open water is a stark contrast to the scowl that Obolus greets you with so early in the day.

"Good morning!" You beam, your smile shining brightly in his direction, as you carefully step onto the ferry.

"Someone's rather chipper this morning," he snickers, preparing to set sail in the blighted waters.

"You could say that," you respond, taking your seat on the wooden boards as the vessel starts to bob in the water and glancing back as the hideaway comes to life, everyone beginning to start their day.

When choosing a destination for this little excursion, you soon realized that there was only one correct choice, so you set your sights on Rosaria, having expressed wanting to return there to Clive before, so if he truly knew you as well as he claimed, he'd have no trouble finding you.

The majority of your time was spent at Martha's Rest, helping her out with the ever-growing cray claw population that seemed to be terrorizing most merchants traveling in the area. It was peaceful, with most nights spent exchanging tales with the locals over pints of ale.

On the day before the full moon, Martha half-joked about keeping you stationed with her, finding your company to be most pleasant, and though you couldn't make any promises, you assured her that you would stop by whenever time allowed.

It was only on the night of the full moon itself that you decided to take to the sea. The salty air and crash of the waves gave you a sense of tranquility unlike any other. It was almost as if you could sit back and forget all the horrors of the world around you.

As you draw swirl patterns into the sand with your finger, you begin to wonder if Clive will ever find you. Maybe he never even realized you were gone, and you'd be forced to return home with your tail between your legs, not having gotten any closer to the answers you so desired.

Unbeknownst to you, though, Clive was actively on the hunt, having noticed your disappearance shortly after your departure that morning. The space beside him in bed was cold and empty when he awoke. Though confused, he didn't think much of it; sometimes people are being sent away as reinforcements without much notice.

His day went pretty much the same as normal, though an underlying discomfort lay deep within him, wishing to share details of upcoming plans with you but being unable to.

It's not until you don't return that evening that he begins to get antsy. Deciding that he doesn't want to come across as overly possessive, he manages to hold his tongue, only voicing his concerns about your absence that night at the ale hall during supper, his dining mates recounting that they haven't seen you but to "not fret as you were probably just sent away on an overnight assignment."

He nods, taking some solace in their words as he sips from his mug, washing down the food. They were probably right; you were just off helping someone somewhere, but knowing that doesn't make his restless nights go by any easier, leaving him to toss and turn in his sleep without you.

It's not til three days go by without so much as a whisper of your whereabouts that he decides to go looking for you, finding one of your undershirts and stuffing the material into the pouch on the back of his belt. He goes out in search of Otto, hoping to find some information in regard to your whereabouts, but it's when he comes up empty in regard to your station that he really starts to panic. He informs the elder man that he'll be out for an unspecified amount of time and to make sure all missives are delivered to his desk upon his return, then storms off to the pier with a look something fierce in his eyes as he demands Obolus take him to where you disembarked. Obolus, not wanting to argue with a clearly pissed-off Clive, rows him to the destination.

You're distracted from your wallowing upon hearing a shrill howl in the distance. Quick to refocus, you swivel your head back and forth in all directions to try and determine the location of the sound. That's when you see it—a dark figure perched upon one of the nearby cliffs. The midnight sky shrouds the size and shape of the creature, though its piercing azure eyes remain distinct amongst the sea of black, piercing right through you from the tall height. 

Just as quickly as you make eye contact with the creature, it lurches from its spot on the cliff, prowling toward you like a predator honing in on its next meal, sniffing as if it smells your fear and your very blood running cold. Only when it's within range of the fire's flame are you able to tell what lingers in the dark. A wolf. Its fur is as dark as a raven's feather, black like soot, and much different from the standard mix of greys and whites of the usual worgens. Rosaria was no stranger to wolves, but they were never of this magnitude; its body was almost double the size of the usual stray. You're confused as to what it was doing so far out from the greenery; was this a newly created breed? Made solely for the purpose of hunting lost damsels wandering the coast at night?

As it draws near, you're unable to look away, its eyes drawing you into a trance, captivating yet familiar, almost as if you've seen them before.

It snarls at you, its ears and lips drawing back to expose the glint of sharpened canines that await you, its tail sharp and stiff, a warning sign: DANGER! DANGER!

You scoot backward in the sand toward your sword, buried in the sand. The wolf is still approaching just as slowly, its bark and growls echoing off the ocean and ringing back into your ears. Was this how you were going to meet your end? Slaughtered and torn to shreds by a rouge wolf, becoming its dinner, never to be seen again while your corpse decays on an abandoned beach?

You feel the cold steel amongst the granules and unsheath your blade, drawing it slowly as you rise to your feet. You do your best to steady your nerves, your heart hammering in your chest so wildly that you're assured that the beast can hear its drum as well. Though skilled with a sword, the circumstances couldn't be more against your favor; the instability of the sand and poor lighting make it more likely that you'll topple over and impale yourself before ever slaying the creature.

It growls once more, rearing its hind legs, ready to pounce. You brace yourself for impact, taking your best stance as the wolf leaps into the air. You're knocked flat on your back on the bumpy terrain, your sword falling from your hand as the air is strangled from your lungs, your body aching from the collision. It stands over you now, nose to nose with the beast that'd be your undoing. Its drool leaks onto your face; puffs of air are exhaled and manifested into the ether as it breathes in and out. You clench your eyes shut as it leans closer, praying that your death will be swift when you feel...a lick?

The long, fleshy tongue makes a slobbery mess of your cheeks and face as the wolf wags its bushy tail back and forth. This was bizarre, but you'd much rather be covered in sloppy hound kisses than be torn to shreds, so you accept your strange fate while continuing to giggle.

"I never expected to make a friend all the way out here," you coo, giving your best baby voice as you scratch the hound behind the ears.

A few moments later, you're blinded by a bright, pale light, transforming the once yipping black wolf into...Clive? Or at least you think it's Clive. It looks like him, the figure possessing the same crystalline eyes and dark shaggy hair, yet he still looks vastly different, as if he were half-beast, retaining the increased height, bulk, and hair as he did in wolf form. The rounded, fluffy ears and sharpened fangs are still present as well. You don't even realize he's naked at first due to the amount of thick, coarse hair covering his body, only being able to tell when you catch a glimpse of the few more intimate scars that lay between the follicles, reflecting in the flame's light.

He falls to his hands and knees, scampering toward you, pulling you close by the arm for a chaste kiss.

"Ouch," you squeak, scuttling backward as something sharp pricks your skin. He's quick to pull away, and that's when you notice the claws extending from the tips of his fingers, curled and sharpened to a fine point.

"My apologies; I'm, uh, not used to touching people when I look like this." He reaches out to cup your face, frowning a little as you twitch backward at the sight of his large hand. His fingers are gentle as they caress the sensitive skin of your cheek and neck, not wanting to startle you further.

"What are you doing all the way out here? Where have you been? What if something happened to you? What if-?" He begins to question, losing himself in the possibility of what ifs

"Clive," you cut him off, raising your eyebrows to stare at him like he's just grown two heads. He tilts his head to the side, perplexed, while you ask, "Are you not going to explain what's going on with you?"

"You're... a beast."

He sighs, sitting back on his hind with a dejected posture. "This," he gestures up and down his body, "is what I was trying to protect you from."

His eye catches a glimmer upon your flesh, trailing from your bicep to your forearm.

"You're bleeding," he mutters, turning your arm in his grasp to get a better view.

"It's alright," you stammer, reaching up to apply pressure to the cut when he looms over you, extending his head and tongue toward the abrasion, lapping at it quickly. You're taken aback at first, quirking an eyebrow in his direction, but soon realize that this is his means of comforting you, in his own dog sort of way.  His tongue also maintained its wolf-like qualities—long, pink, and rough—yet it didn't feel too unpleasant on the skin. The cool breeze against the wet saliva on your skin creates goosebumps along your body.

He continues to tend to your cut til he's assured the bleeding has stopped and the metallic tang no longer gracing his tastebuds. He pulls back, sitting on his rear once again. "You still haven't answered my question."

"You haven't answered mine. I've seen a lot of freaky things in my lifetime, Clive, but this...this requires an explanation."

A beat of silence passes as the two of you sit in front of the fire, illuminated in its orange haze. A small breeze of wind blows through the both of you, the moon and stars shine down from above.

He exhales defeatedly. "I'm... a werewolf."

You scoff, finding the words a bit silly coming out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, what?"

"It's true.  I was turned that night at Phoenix Gate all those years ago. It was the only way I could've survived." He pauses, lowering his head and drawing his ears back once again. "I never found the person who turned me—I don't believe I ever will. Though sometimes I wonder if saving me was worth it, seeing as it turns me into a monster."

"Clive..."

He shakes his head, ruffling his fur, a toothy grin adorning his features. "Never mind that."

"Every full moon, I transform into this beast against my will. That's why I'm away so often. That and well..." His words trail off as his eyes make contact with yours across the fire, scanning your face and body.

"Well, what?"

"Nothing," he smiles, eyes softening as he continues to look at you. "Now it's your turn; what in Founder's name are you doing all the way out here?"

You chuckle timidly, heat flooding your face—the likes of which you hope he can't see as you scoot away from him slightly, wishing you could bury your head in the sand for reacting so poorly.

"It's silly... and dumb," you mumble, trying to wave him off, turning your back toward him in an attempt to hide any further embarrassment. He grabs your hands in his, the size of them eclipsing your own, while he pulls you closer to him.

"It's not dumb, not to me," he says, running a fur-covered finger up and down your cheek. "Besides, it can't possibly be any dumber than me turning into a wolf," he chuckles.

You sigh, closing your eyes in preparation. "I was getting frustrated with the lack of communication, so I decided to just..."

"Run away?"

"Aye." You hang your head low in shame, kicking up a cloud of dust from the sand with your toes, feeling stupid and childish for having reacted this way.

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. It wasn't fair to you."

"It's alright."

He cups your jaw, nudging your chin up between his grip so that you're both on eye level, his eyes much sharper than before. "It's not alright, love, we're a partnership. We're supposed to trust each other, and we can't do that if I'm not being honest with you. I'll do better from here on, alright? I promise."

You give him a sickly-sweet smile, nodding in agreement as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

"So how did you find me? I mean, I was hoping you would, but still, I'm curious."

"You really want to know? It's quite embarrassing."

"Now I most definitely want to know," you giggle, leaning toward him.

"Well, I uhm..." He becomes more bashful as he continues on. "I tracked your scent."

"I pulled one of your tunics from the laundry bin and used that to help me track you down."

"My scent?"

"Mhm," he grumbles, slowly leaning into you more and more, causing you to fall back on your hands as he draws near. "Your musk is very distinct. There's nothing else in Valisthea quite like it." He gets closer and closer, nudging his head under the skirt of your dress, getting incredibly close toward the apex of your thighs before taking a big whiff. "And oh, so addicting." Your eyelashes flutter in surprise, building heat throughout your body. This had to be some wolf thing, right? He never acted like this before.

You place your foot on his shoulder, pushing him back on his haunches, trying to shoo him away from under your dress with a subdued "Down boy."

He snarls faintly before wrapping his hand around your ankle and pulling you toward him, effectively dragging your body through the sand, scratching up your back, and getting the granules caught in your dress and hair. It'd take weeks for you to wash it all out.

He tugs on your leg til you're dangling in the air, holding you up as if you weigh nothing, yanking you higher and higher til your sweet cunt is pressed against his nose once more. He takes another huge whiff of your pussy and relishes in the scent that fills his nostrils. Your body contorts slightly, your abdomen tightening while you hold down the part of your dress that's fallen in your face, only to see him nosing at your underwear, licking his lips, and staring at you like you were a big piece of meat.

"I can smell you, you know," he whispers, licking a broad stripe against your folds through the gusset of your underwear. You can't help but thrash in the air, your back arching as the width of his tongue reaches every crevice of your cunt in one fell swoop. Oh, this was certainly different, but you liked it.

"I can smell your arousal, Founder, your scent is so addicting." He nuzzles into your pussy again, rubbing his nose back and forth over your clit through your underwear, grinning at your desperate mewls and whines.

"You smell so fucking good," he murmurs and delivers another broad lick to your panties, effectively soaking them with his drool. "And taste even better," he winks. "But your scent isn't the only thing I can sense. Your heart rate has increased quite significantly, as well as your breathing." Partly from fear but mostly from arousal.

another broad lick and a sniff

"You're probably debating whether or not it's okay to be attracted to me while I'm like this."

another lick

"Mmm, fuck," he growls as more of your essence pools in your knickers. "But don't worry, I can make the decision for the both of us." He gives an airy laugh.

another sniff

His claws graze the seam of your panties, slightly unraveling the stitching. "Please let me taste you," he pants. "Please don't deny me your sweet nectar."

"I've gone far too long without it," he mumbles as he begins to make out with your pussy through your underwear, while his claws start trailing over the rest of your body as you continue to hang in the air. Clive was never one to shy away from pleasuring you with his honeyed tongue, but this was a whole new level of desperation.

"Please," he pleads.

"Alright alright, just put me down. I'm starting to lose feeling in my legs." He grins and happily obliges, his tail wagging rapidly as he drops you slowly onto the sand by your ankle. You lean back on your elbows so as not to get any more sand in your hair, and spread your legs wide for him. He gets on his hands and knees, crawling over to you seductively before lifting the hem of your dress over your pelvis, exposing your soaking wet knickers to him once again. 

He smiles down at you, admiring the view of your disheveled state while dragging a claw on your inner thigh, making you shiver before he tucks the nail into the crotch of your panties, tearing them straight off your cunt with little resistance. The fabric is left in tatters beside you when you gasp, your slick folds now fully exposed to the chilly evening air.

He groans as he lifts your hips into the air, throwing your thighs over his broad shoulders as he makes eye contact with your bare cunt, all wet, spread, and exposed just for him. Your bum is in the air slightly as he settles himself on his elbows, his large hands wrapping around the plush of your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh slightly. He gets on eye level with your pussy, the hairs on your mound drenched from his salvia. You look so appetizing to him that he can't fight off the desire to sink into your wetness.

"Do you want to know the real reason I stayed away all this time?" He asks, bringing his mouth closer to your cunt, nibbling on your inner thigh with his teeth, causing a slight blood trail to trickle down from the skin.

You whimper but nod your head in response.

"Your scent tempts me like no other." His rough tongue laps up the blood spilled from the nick he created, leaving you writhing for more pleasure.

"It'd take everything in me not to mount you right where you lay and take you as my mate." You groan at that, causing a chuckle to escape him while he continues to nip and lick at the skin surrounding your pussy, neglecting where you need him most.

"Clive, please," you whine, having had enough of his teasing and desperately wanting him to push you over the edge with that sweet tongue of his, so after deciding that you've had enough, he gives you what you so desperately crave: a long swipe of his tongue from your entrance, all the way to your needy, swollen clit.

You arch your back while he groans at the taste. Something about being in this form enhances his senses and the pleasure he receives from pleasing you.

He gathers a pool of salvia behind his teeth and spits it on your cunt before he pulls you even further into his mouth, swirling the wetness all along your poor neglected pussy. The change in texture brings you heightened pleasure as his tongue drags along your clit over and over, making you mewl and whine in his hold.

Your hips begin to buck against his face, and he's gentle when he pulls the sensitive nub between his sharpened teeth. Your fingers find themselves in his shaggy hair, curling into the roots, where you give a slight tug, pulling him even closer into your cunt. He groans into your pussy as more of your arousal leaks from your quivering hole.

He detaches himself from your clit, moving down to your entrance, where he laps at the escaping juices. It's like a drug to him, one that he simply can't get enough of, so it comes as no surprise when he wiggles his tongue into your tight hole to collect even more of your flavor on his palette. He pushes the warm muscle further and further in, slurping up every last drop you provide, not letting a single one go to waste. It's such a foreign sensation, but you can't deny the pleasure you derive from it when he begins thrusting it in and out of you, effectively fucking you with his tongue.

"Fuck, Clive," you moan as his efforts hasten, greedy for more of your flavor.

Your hips continue to rut against his face, clit knocking against his nose with every buck upward. You're whining, whimpering, and writhing all over the place while his strong, calloused hands keep your hips pressed against his face. He takes over for you and grinds your pussy all over his face while continuing to tongue-fuck you as you're reduced to nothing but whimpers due to the sensations, your cunt beginning to pulsate around his warm muscle as the whiskers on his face tickle your clit in ways you've never felt before.

His rhythm against you is brutal; your legs are beginning to shake and your toes starting to curl. A slew of pleas fall from your lips, begging him to bring you to your sweet release, and he's always been one to please. He growls out "cum for me" before suckling your clit back between his lips, hard.

You wail loudly as you see white behind your eyes, your thighs squeezing around his head tight while continuing to tug on his hair, slowly bucking your hips as you continue to ride out the rest of your high.

Clive keeps up his efforts on your clit, making your hips jolt as he overstimulates your poor pussy. With a simple tap on the side of his face and a muffled "enough," he lowers you back down again, being sure to cover your exposed sex with the skirt of your dress once more.

"That was..." you begin to rave, lifting your head up to meet his eyes only for your attention to be drawn elsewhere, particularly toward the protrusion from his lower half that's now sticking straight in the air.

Heavens above, was that his cock?

Your eyes are diverted once again as he begins licking his chops, swirling his tongue all around where your wetness graced his face. Poor thing, he always did get unbearably horny when eating you out.

You reach out toward him, wanting to provide some relief, when he backs away, shuffling in the sand.

"You don't...you don't need to do that..."

"In fact, it's probably best that you didn't."

"Are you sure? It looks like it hurts..."

His cock looked a lot different than usual. It was angrier, meatier, thicker, longer, his whole shaft red in color instead of the pretty pale yellow tone you're used to, and it was hard, so incredibly hard, with precum leaking down onto the sand below. You've never had anything like it before, but you knew you wanted it, and you wanted it BAD.

"It's alright, I can take care of myself when I turn back, besides, if we do this, I won't be able to stop myself, and I- I don't want to hurt you." He attempts to cover himself up from your wandering eye, but that serves to only work against him as he whimpers every time he bumps into his erection, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

You crawl toward him slowly, your hands and knees sinking into the sand as you move forward. "I trust you, I know you won't hurt me." You settle between his legs, dense, dark, coarse hair covering the base of his cock. "Let me make you feel good too," you mumble, grabbing his shaft with your hand. It's hot to the touch, with way more veins, the base more rounded and bulbous than usual. You pump him up and down slowly as he mewls and growls against your touch. 

"This is your last chance," he huffs. "I won't be able to hold myself back." 

"I want you just like this, Clive," you lean in, pressing a wet kiss to his lips while you continually stroke him. "Don't hold yourself back," you whisper, smirking against him as the two of you kiss some more, both beginning to pant into the other's mouth as the excitement builds.

He emits a low growl and picks you up by your hips, planting you down on all fours in front of him. The hem of your dress is torn by his claws as he lifts it over your bum, your cheeks on full display. His hand comes down with a swift SWAT to your ass, leaving tiny abrasions on your skin from his nails. Your body propels forward from the impact as you squeal, your pussy starting to drool with arousal once again. 

He leans himself over you; his broad body is heavy on your back as it casts a large shadow in the moonlight. You can feel all the hair that covers his legs as he presses into you, the follicles tickling the back of your thighs as he lines himself up with your entrance.

"I'd much rather take you on your back, spread you nice and wide, have you laid out all pretty underneath me like you always seem to enjoy," he murmurs in your ear, trailing his hand from your thigh to knead at your breast through your clothes.

"But unfortunately, your choice of locale for throwing this little tantrum prohibits that sort of thing."

"We wouldn't want sand to get where it doesn't belong, hm?" He removes his hand from your breast and interlocks his fingers over top of yours, where they've sunk into the sand. Though his hand is so large, he might as well be clenching his fist around your own.

He sniffs your nape, then presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "I'll be as gentle as I can til you're ready for more, alright?"

"I'll make this as pleasurable for you as possible," he coos. When he notices your body shivering, though he's unsure if it's due to the cold or nerves, he runs his free hand up and down your side in a soothing manner, in an attempt to help calm you a bit. He plants a sweet kiss and a lick on your cheek, and it manages to pull a short giggle from you, which he smiles at.

"I'm ready."

With your fingers still interlocked together, he carefully begins to insert himself, and it takes all of his will to not buck his hips and go balls deep inside you. The hug of your warm, wet walls on his weepy, swollen cock is almost too much for him to bear.

You bite your lower lip and grunt as he pushes in, feeling like you're being torn open from the inside out. He can sense your discomfort; your heart rate skyrocketing due to the pain. He's quick to move his other hand from your side to your clit, rubbing smooth, soft circles on the bundle of nerves with the pad of his fingers.

His ears pull back at your discomfort, and he nuzzles his nose into your neck further, trying to soothe you through more licks and kisses to your neck.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whimpers, and your heart all but breaks at the sound.

The ministrations on your clit start to overtake the burn of your nethers and you encourage Clive to keep pushing in further. It's a prolonged effort, with him moving in short increments every so often til he was as deep as you could allow, stopping just short of the bulb inflating the base. He was already quite well-endowed, having little to no trouble bringing you to sweet bliss on his cock, but this was a whole new world. His cock felt like it now resided in your guts and that your guts were now in your longs. His girth, the likes of which you've never felt before. Your cunt strangles him with everything it has; every bump against your ridges fills him with pleasure.

Once he's as deep as he can go with minimal resistance, he brings you over the edge by playing with your clit. Sadly, there's not enough prep in the world that would make taking him an easier feat, but he's hoping that the now relaxed muscles in your cunt will make the whole experience more pleasurable.

He continues to coo and coddle you as you come down from your second orgasm of the night. The squirm of your smaller form against his fills him with amusement. There's something so primal about him mounting you like this, caressing your soft skin while making sure to comfort you through lots of kisses and nuzzles as he whispers words of affection in your ear. You're pretty sure your cheek is going to be rubbed raw by the end of this.

"You're such a good girl," he murmurs in your ear. "You're doing so good for me."

He stalls his hips while you gather yourself, collecting your thoughts as you try to bring yourself back into the moment. It's only when you give the go-ahead that he starts to move, taking care to make sure that this part is done with caution as well until you're accustomed to any sort of rhythm with his size.

Your fists dig deep into the shore as the veins of his angry cock drag along every single bump and groove inside you.

"Fuuuuuuuuck," you growl between your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut tight at his slow and methodical thrusts. You knew he was just making sure you didn't get hurt, but it felt like him going this slow and deliberate might actually kill you.

"Clive, you can move a little faster," you pant.

"Are you sure? I don't want to-"

"Yes, I'm sure just-" you clench down on him harder, hoping that will drive the point further. "Just please..."

"Alright then," he mumbles, settling his face on your shoulder, his big, bulky body still encompassing you. He moves his hand down to your hip, where his thumb draws soothing patterns into your skin while his hips start to rock back and forth. It's a slow rhythm at first, which admittedly you're thankful for, knowing that you'd probably regret telling him to go all out once you're forced to waddle to the infirmary and explain to Tarja why your nethers looked the way they did.

It takes everything in you not to groan out in pleasure, and after noticing this, of course, Clive goads, gaining a more steady rhythm, his pace quickening with every passing second.

"There's no one else here but you, me, and the stars, love."

"You can be as loud as you want." After heeding his proposal, you let out a loud moan into the open air, which echoes softly over the ocean.

"That's it," he praises, licking a stripe on your neck. It's not long before you feel the coil winding in your belly once more, signaling your impending orgasm. You attempt to reach down toward your clit when Clive smacks your hand away, replacing your fingers with his own as he rubs fast circles on the pearl.

He's grunting and huffing in tandem with your moans, the two of you fucking like wild animals as his hips snap in quick succession against yours. His cock glides against the soft, spongey spot deep inside you over and over with no end in sight. Your toes curl as your cunt squeezes down on him even harder than before, screwing your eyes tight as you brace yourself for the impact of your oncoming orgasm. The weight of his cock makes you see stars as you reach ecstasy once more.

"Fuck," he groans against you, digging his face deeper into your neck, inhaling the scent dripping off you from your sweat, your body lunging back and forth as he continues to fuck you. You presumed this would be the finale, but soon realize you're dead wrong as he grabs you by both hips again and sits back on his heels, effectively spearing you on his cock as your legs are spread wide over his thick, hairy thighs.

His claws come out to shred at the material of your bodice, ruining the fabric of your dress and making it so your tits bounce wildly with every powerful thrust he delivers underneath you.

Your body is akin to puddy at this point, your head resting against his shoulder as he bounces you up and down on his cock. His fingers come down to pinch at your nipples as you writhe against his body, the cool evening air making them hard as rocks while he plays with the rest of your body to his own enjoyment.

It's not long after that you find yourself on the brink again as you succumb to becoming his personal fleshlight, his thrusts unrelenting while he whispers more sweet nothings into your ear, his fat cock bullying your sopping hole. The crashing waves are the only sound capable of drowning out the squelch of your cunt from him fucking into you so well.

You cum again with a loud cry, your body falling against him as you fully lose yourself in pleasure, becoming weak and limp in his arms while he holds you upright.

"Think you can handle one more?" he smirks.

You nod and mumble incoherently while he stops thrusting, positioning himself on your bedroll to lay fully on his back.

Your legs are spread as wide as possible over his lower torso and hips, your sloppy cunt exposed for all the stars and heavens to see.

You tilt your head slightly when Metia and the full moon come back into view. You mouth a breathless "thank you" to them, as it seems your prayers for having Clive come to your aid were answered.

In your delirious state, he guides your hand down to your lower abdomen, right where his cock lies inside you. He then takes his other hand to the back of your head and eases your neck upward to look at the protrusion, his cock causing your abdomen to bulge out. You go a little cross-eyed at the sight, and he takes your hand under his and presses down on the bulge, which draws out a low whine from you both.

He snarls, "Can you feel how deep I am inside you?" You nod haphazardly, not able to do much else. He chuckles at your disposition and begins to slowly thrust back from underneath you.

"By the end of this, I think you'll be molded to the shape of my cock, your cunt ruined for anyone else." He laughs while you whine and writhe; his slow, languid thrusts not enough to drive you over the edge.

"Awwww, sweet little thing just wants to cum again, huh?" He mutters in your ear, smirking as you mewl, your pussy clenching down on him while he laps up your sweat.

"Alright then, darling, I'll give you what you want," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before increasing his rhythm once more, his bulky arm coming down to scoop underneath your knees and pull your legs toward your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper inside you.

You do something unexpected; in your bliss-induced delirium, you bring his hand that's pushing down on your belly up toward your throat and wrap his thick fingers around your neck slightly. He huffs down at you, his body still hard at work, pounding into your sopping cunt.

"You want to be choked now, do you? This is new. Are you sure this is what you want, sweetheart? I don't want to hurt you." You nod as enthusiastically as your aching body will allow, closing your hands overtop his once again.

"Alright, alright, I get it," he chortles, slowly but surely pressing down on the sides of your neck, reducing the blood flow.

From behind, he starts foaming at the mouth, his thrusts getting more brutal both in pace and intensity. How he managed to last this long is beyond you.

He releases his hold on your legs and moves down to rub quick circles on your clit, his other hand squeezing down tighter as you get closer to release. Your hands come up to squeeze your own nipples, and the edges of your vision get hazy as you start to lose consciousness and feel extreme bliss.

"Cum for me," is whispered in your ears, and all of a sudden, your brain and lungs are flooded with oxygen as you experience the most intense orgasm of your life, letting out nothing short of a silent scream as your body spasms and arches wildly. The rush to both your head and cunt is greater than anything you've experienced before.

Clive keeps thrusting into you as he drives himself toward his own release, the bulb on his cock continuing to knock into you, ever so slightly entering you with every movement.

"Clive, w-what is that?" You rasp, your voice shaky from its extended use over the course of the night. He takes on a much more shy attitude after hearing your question, continuing to groan.

"It's m-my knot."

"Your what?"

"It's a wolf thing; it helps keep me inside after I... you know..."

"It helps with mating, but you don't have to take it if you don't want to."

You shake your head back and forth. "No, I want to. I want to take it."

"Fuck," he growls. "Are you sure?"

"YES," you wail.

"As you wish, darling."

It's a few short, sloppy thrusts later when Clive sinks his teeth into your shoulder, grunting and howling as he stuffs you full, pushing his knot fully inside you while he goes balls deep into your cunt, your pussy swelling and stretching to accommodate the excess girth.

"Heavens above," you cry, your back arching toward the sky as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, ropes upon ropes of his warm spend shooting deep inside you as he's milked for all he's worth.

You both slump against each other in the aftermath, his hands coming up to caress your body. "We're going to be stuck like this for a while."

It's sometime later that you're snuggled up on Clive's body as you lay both bare underneath the stars together. His huge body keeps you warm while you twirl your fingers into his chest hair, his mouth coming down to press multiple kisses to the crown of your head.

"So you won't fully transform back until sunrise?"

"Correct."

"And you've been like this for over fifteen years?"

"Mhm," he mumbles.

"Where do you go for those three days? Clearly, you're not at the hideaway."

"Do you promise not to laugh at me?"

"Who do you take me for? Of course, I won't laugh at you."

He sighs, trailing his fingers up and down your back. "I actually go back to Rosalith. I've got a little den set up there."

"How adorable," you tease, making a kissy face at him. "You'll have to take me to go see it sometime."

"I don't think so," he smirks.

"Wha- why not?" You huff, an adorable pout forming on your face.

"Let's just say that I really wouldn't be able to hold myself back in that instance, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there." He presses a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Okay, okay, last question. Did you really mean all that filth you spewed about why you disappeared all those times?"

"It's partially true. All my senses are heightened, and you truly do become irresistible to me. Not that I'm any less attracted to you normally, but it's...different." He pulls you closer to his chest.

"Though I suppose I was mostly afraid that you'd look at me differently and that you wouldn't want to be with me anymore."

"Clive, I've watched you prime into Ifrit with my very own eyes; do you truly believe that I'd leave you because you transform into a hound?"

"Wolf," he corrects.

"Same difference," you chuckle, raising your head from his chest to peer into his eyes. A lovesick, dopey grin is plastered all over his face when he looks at you, despite his words of insecurity.

"I'm with you no matter what, Clive. No matter the challenges or struggles you may face. I'll always stand by you. I love you, and that will forever remain true," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his lips, and you swear you can see his pupils double in size as he repeats the phrase back to you.

You rest your head back on his chest once again, enjoying the feeling of contentment before speaking out, "We're going to have a lot of explaining to do back at the hideaway, won't we?"

"Oh, most definitely."

[ivymarquis]

Hi loves 💕💕 I saw requests are open so I figured I'd send one in! I absolutely love your work you're so talented and I binge read all of your fics!!

I would like to request fem reader x soap where Soaps wife adopted a dog she found on the streets and keeps her even though he hates the idea.( he has a cannon fear of dogs which I find a little funny) slowly but surely he warms up to the dog but not fully. While he's out on a mission there's a robbery and the dog protects the reader and scares off the intruder. Soap hears about this and is instantly is best friends with the dog because even though he hates dogs he loves that the pup will protect his wife (I also hc that mabey it's not a street dog but a retired k9 reader adopted to feel safe while he was gone and she just didn't tell him until he comes home and sees a dog. it's up to you what you pick💓)

Hello anon I appreciate your patience!! I did pick and choose a wee bit to make the fic make sense for me, I hope you like it!

The Exception to the Rule

Pairing| Soap x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 1.9K Content/Warnings| Housekeeping first- this fic is SFW so if you find it in the tags I won’t be bothered about minors reading it but I am an MDNI blog and I will block any minors or ageless blogs who follow me. Got it? Cool. The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent, likely inaccuracies about how military dogs in general or bomb dogs in specific work. Allusions to prior animal injury, allusion to potential dog choking (in the context of choking off a working dog who won’t release its quarry), allusion to home invasion, dog bites, Johnny is not happy, the author does not condone getting animals you know your partner has issues with (but the plot necessitates it so on we go!)

Soap knows his wife well enough to know when she’s taken a “ask for forgiveness rather than permission” course of action. It’s written all over her face when she accepts his FaceTime call and answers his greeting of “What did ya dae, hen?“ with a “Please don’t be mad.”

Now certain men might have to worry about their brides stepping out on them on deployment. Soap knows her well enough to not even entertain that notion, so the wheels start turning for what exactly she could have done that has her looking this guilty out the gate.

The answer comes very suddenly in the form of a bark on the other end of the screen.

John Soap MacTavish sputters, something he is not often inclined to do, “Is that a fuckin’ dog?” And not just a dog. That wasn’t a little yappy fluffball who can be picked up with two fingers if need be. It sounds like one of the damn bomb dogs always yapping over in the kennels.

“Please don’t be mad!” She pleads again.

“Well a’m not happy, that’s for sure. Where and why did ye git that thing?”

This is completely out of character for her. Soap’s disdain for dogs (and why) is well known. She bloody well knows. So what the hell?

“It’s not permanent! You said this deployment would be a long one, and there’s been break ins in the neighborhood and I got nervous and my friend told me about this rescue group that helps rehome retired military dogs.” Her explanation is all in one breath. “They approved us” (Us??) ”as a foster family. He’s already got applications in for a permanent home. It just feels,” she pauses to catch her breath, and Soap can feel himself softening ever so minisculely to the dog- as long as he’s on the other side of the world, away from it, “safer here, with him here since you’re gone. The break ins have been really scary, they haven’t caught the guy yet.”

Fucking hell how is he supposed to argue with that? Especially if there’s some prick on the loose breaking into houses.

“Cujo better nae be oan th’ bed wi’ ye,” he grouses, acquiescing while still making his displeasure known.

“His name is Kabar and I’ll have the bed freshly stripped when you’re due back I promise.”

Soap is a god damn sucker for those pleading doe eyes, giving a big exasperated sigh to signal he’s letting her off the hook. “Fine. Bit he better be gaen by th’ time I pull intae th’ driveway. Let’s see th’ damn thing then,” Christ he hopes it’s not a Belgian Malinois. He knows they’re popular for military dogs but his darling is not built to handle a maligator, retired or not.

“Okay hang on,” she replies, notably cheerier as she taps the screen.

It’s a German Shepherd, thank fuck (Johnny must be having a stroke to be grateful for the sight of a German Shepherd in his bed)

He knows as well as anyone else they can be intense, but they’re a step down from the Malinois at least.

The coloring is traditional, but Soap’s brain starts nudging him that something is wrong with the dog. It takes a moment to click before he realizes the problem.

The damn dog only has three legs. “Is he a tripod?” The question is out before he can stop himself because no he is not inquiring about the damn dog. It was just a thought that escaped.

“He is a disabled veteran!” His bride corrects cheekily, before much more solemnly adding “He was a bomb dog.”

Oh Christ. He did not need to know that. Doesn’t need to think about the damn animal waking up one day with four legs and clocking in to work with his handler before boom.

“A’m only entertaining this because of the break ins, hen, am ah clear?”

Maybe having that booming bark rattling the windows will keep any would-be intruders at bay. This is the worst part of the job- being stuck on what might as well be the other side of the world when she’s got something to deal with.

“Absolutely crystal clear!” She’s all too agreeable, pleased as hell to have her cake (the dog) and eat it too (Johnny tolerating it).

Somehow this is going to blow up in his face and he’s going to permanently end up with a fucking military dog he doesn’t want, he just knows it.

But there’s no fucking way he can tell her No. Absolutely not. He goes back today, with a potential threat lurking around the neighborhood. He’d never forgive himself.

The rest of the conversation is much more in line with what he usually anticipates with their phone calls being- He doesn’t much like talking about work off the clock although lets her know of any interesting shenanigans around the base, and listening with baited breath as she regails him of tales both extraordinary and, well, extra ordinary.

Usually their phone calls end when she passes out in bed, and they’re perfectly poised to continue that habit tonight also.

“Ye made sure all th’ doors and windows are locked, hen?” He asks as she starts snuggling into the bedding underneath her.

“Yeah Johnny, I,” she cuts herself off with a big yawn “-I double checked them.”

It’s a few minutes later that the phone slips from her hand, camera pointing at the ceiling as she drifts off.

Johnny can almost imagine he’s at home laying on his back, watching the rhythmic movements of the ceiling fan in time with his lovely girl snoring slightly in his ear (despite her verbose protests that no she doesn’t snore- okay. Whatever you say, gorgeous.)

It’s an incredibly comforting moment that lets him feel a bit closer to home that is ruined by the sound of snuffling by the speaker.

The dog’s nose appears on screen, the angle making him look like an aardvark as he sniffs the phone before laying down, presumably relishing in the fact there’s not a damn thing Soap can do about this situation.

“Ye better keep an eye oan my girl, Cujo.” Soap grumbles as he begrudgingly hangs up the phone.

The mission ends quicker than expected- substantially quicker- and as content as Soap is with getting home he also is annoyed.

The mission got cut so short, and it’s so damn late by the time Soap is driving home that he knows the fucking dog is still there. The agreed upon date has not yet passed, which means that fuck is lazing about on his side of the bed.

Not to mention the mere obstacle of convincing a former military dog he’s never met, in the middle of the night, that yes this is his fucking house and he’s the one paying the bills around here and yes that actually is his spot on the bed so kindly fuck off.

At a point during his drive home, a police car flies by him. Then another. Then another.

Must be the fucker that’s been breaking into homes. Hopefully he gets caught and that’s one less thing to worry about when Johnny leaves again.

Except the red and blue lights seem to be fucking honed in from the spot that he’s steadily driving to, and Johnny’s convinving himself that he’s seeing things. There is no way that those lights and sirens are stemming from his house, thank you very much.

Even still, he feels himself driving faster. The sooner to quiet his anxiety that’s brewing.

The anxiety doesn’t dissipate as he makes each turn to his home. If anything it gets worse.

Because all that noise and the flashing lights are stemming from his own fucking home. Johnny can barely get the thing in park before he’s flying out of the vehicle. He can hear screams and specifically her crying and in an instant Johnny’s beyond being keyed up.

One of the officers attempts to intercept Johnny- thinks he’s just some nosy fuck from who knows where- and it takes everything in him not to blow his top entirely as he cuts the man off with a stern “This is mah house ‘n she’s mah wife!”

The sound of his voice booming into the night is enough to catch her attention and bring her running to him. Johnny embraces her as she flings herself at him, crying into his shirt as he strokes her back and soothes her.

He can piece together the general what happened, although he’s completely unaware of the details.

One piece begins to fit into place as he starts to hear what all the screaming is. His initial attention completely fixated on ensuring his wife is whole and hale, now he can check that off the mental list he now has the bandwidth to listen to the bellowing.

“Git it aff me! Och Jesus, someone git it aff o' me!”

“Cannae git th’ damn thing tae release him,” Johnny hears one of the officers comment dryly.

“Can always choke him off if the owners can’t git him tae let go,” the other one supplies.

“Eh, ah guess,” the first one responds in a bored tone that makes it clear he has a this guy fucked around and now he’s finding out, and I don’t see a reason to hurry- the dog looks happy anyway, stance to the situation.

On the side of the house, face down in the grass is the man who presumably broke inside.

He is so incredibly lucky there are witnesses and a sobbing wife to curtail the dark, angry thoughts swirling around in Johnny’s brain. Otherwise all it would take would be one phone call to Laswell and this prick disappears forever.

Attached to the calf of that man is Cujo, happily laying on the ground with his tail wagging slowly like his teeth aren’t sunk inside a man’s flesh. If the dog gets too annoyed with the man’s wiggling he shakes him like a chew toy, starting up a fresh round of someone git this fucking dog aff o’ me! until he lays still.

The mention of choking the dog off the would-be intruder doesn’t slip past his darling in the slightest, looking up at him with wet, pleading eyes.

Damn it all, he’s always a sucker for that look.

“Johnny, do you know how to make him let go? I don’t want him choked!”

He decides she’s probably better off not being told how often that ends up having to happen, and that Cujo will be just fine minus a few brain cells if push comes to shove.

But he has spent enough time (against his will, mind) around the dogs that he’s learned the basic commands over the years through repeated exposure.

“No promises, hen, bit we’ll see.” The dog has never met him a day in his life- there’s no guarantee he’s going to listen to a man that’s a stranger barking orders at him, but Johnny gives the sharp German command anyway.

To his surprise, the dog lets go immediately and turns towards them, giving the skipping lope that a 3 legged dog does before placing himself in a heel at Soap’s side, eyes wide and head tilted.

Johnny doesn’t want to think about what could have happened tonight if it wasn’t for Cujo- Kabar- taking such an involved roll in apprehending the man stupid enough to break into his home.

And he’s most assuredly not magically over his aversion to dogs- especially military dogs- but he might be able to tolerate an exception if it means having some peace of mind that his wife is safe at home.

[skz317cb97]

so i have no idea if you take requests, but… yk that skz code episode where they play like a bored game and they have to wear the cat ears and see who can make their heart flutter?? imagine reader as the 9th member and she has to wear the cat ears and she picks chan not thinking anything would happen but she turns into a blushing hot mess in front of everyone… (i believe its episode 4)

The Heart Flutter Game

Chan/ot8 x Female reader

Word count: 990

Synopsis: What happens when you realize Chan is capable of making your heart race?

A/N: 18+ ONLY! I hope this is what you were looking for and I hope you enjoy reading. I couldn't help myself and threw just a smidge of angst in there lol otherwise it's all cute fluffy crack! If you all enjoy reading please give it a reblog, like, comment, hop on over to my asks, whatever. I love hearing from you guys! Warnings below the cut

Warnings: None but if there is something I should have up as a warning please let me know and I'll add it. Also although there is no smut or nsfw content in this fic my blog and stories are strictly for 18+ and over. MDNI you will be blocked.

You didn't know where the staff came up with these games sometimes but when you all walked in and saw a huge game board you knew you were going to have fun, especially when you all started to walk around and read the squares. Blind tasting, debate, this or that, heart flutter, fruit ninja. You didn't know what some of the games were but you knew the heart flutter game from watching tik toks.  

You all rolled a big dice to determine the order you'd go in. Once that was decided the game could really begin. You made it a couple times around the group and then it was your turn again. You rolled and Chan moved your piece for you, landing on the heart flutter game. You had watched Seungmin and Jisung play one of the other rounds, so you knew what to expect and you knew who you would pick. 

"I choose Chan." He smiled and walked over. 

"You don't think I can make your heart flutter?" He seemed up to the challenge.  

"No offence Channie but I highly doubt it." He clutched his heart. 

"I'm hurt and will now have to prove myself that much more." You laughed. 

"Well go on then sweep me off my feet old man." He made a stink face. 

"I'm not old!" Seungmin laughed. 

"You just forgot you're old because you're old." Chan feigned laughing and then turned back towards you as a staff member finished setting up the ears and sensors. Then one of the other staff members got the stopwatch ready. You just had to survive two minutes. They hit the button to start it. 

"Okay and go!" Chan walked towards you a little more. 

"Da? Ahh Da? Uwu..." Chan went straight for aegyo but you stood there expressionless the ears unchanging. He stepped closer.  

"Daaaa? Oooo cuuuute!" He poked his cheek and you still gave no reaction and he got no movement from the ears. He stepped closer, now he was definitely in your bubble and you could smell his cologne. Why did he smell so good? The ears twitched and Chan looked at you with a little smile. 

"What's wrong y/n?" You shook your head. 

"N-nothing..." His smile got bigger. He leaned in and the cat ears moved more. The guys all started teasing you as your ears started turning red. 

"Flirt Chan!" He got closer and you took a deep breath. 

"Nothing? Really? You seem flustered..." Chan's face was so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath on your neck, giving you goosebumps and the ears started moving even more. 

"Uh... I... I..." You were starting to get embarrassed that Chan was having such an effect on you. His lips were almost pressed to the shell of your ear. 

"Do I make your heart flutter y/n-ie?" He whispered, then he kissed your cheek and the ears went crazy. You gasped surprised he did that. Your whole face was burning now as the guys all laughed. Suddenly, to you, it wasn't funny anymore. You pulled the ears off and tossed them down before running off. Everyone stopped laughing. Chan looked around at the guys who were all looking up at him. 

"Way to go Chan." Chan looked over at Changbin who had said it. 

"What?! You guys told me to flirt." Minho shook his head. 

"Yea flirt, we didn't say kiss her." Chan face palmed and groaned. 

"I'll go apologize." Chan walked off in the direction you had run off in as the rest of the guys took a break. He found you by following the sounds of your sniffles. He felt terrible.  

"y/n? Hey I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I was trying to be silly and took it too far." You wiped at your face a huffed out a breath. 

"It's not that. You didn't make me uncomfortable Chan." He was confused, his head tilted to the side as his bottom lip protruded. 

"What then?" You slouched against the wall. 

"I... I liked it." Chan nodded. 

"Okay..." You rolled your eyes. 

"I liked it a lot okay?! And everyone was there watching and laughing and I realized it was all just a joke, that I was a joke, and..." Chan's brow furrowed. 

"Hey hey no. You're not a joke." You looked down and shrugged.  

"Well that's how it felt. 'Chan kissed y/n hahaha big joke'. Even you just said you did it to be silly." Chan realized he'd hurt your feelings. 

"I'm so sorry y/n. I didn't mean it like that." You shook your head. 

"Just forget it. Okay? Let's just get back and finish the game." You started to walk off and Chan gently grabbed your wrist stopping you. 

"Hey wait we need to talk about this." You pinched the bridge of your nose. 

"Why?" 

"Well you liked the kiss and I liked kissing you. Isn't that something we should discuss." You looked at him speechless. 

"You what?" He shrugged. 

"I said I liked kissing you and I think this is something we should talk about instead of ignoring it." When you finally processed Chan's words and that he truly meant them you nodded. 

"Yea okay..." You said shyly. You and Chan sat down on the floor with your backs against the wall and started talking. Midway through the conversation Chan grabbed and held your hand and your heart started racing faster. Back in the main part of the studio the guys were all huddled around a monitor. After a moment Felix spoke up. 

"Shouldn't we tell them their mics are still on?" Hyunjin shook his head. 

"No give them their moment." Seungmin chimed in. 

"I didn't think they would ever figure it out. It was starting to get painful to watch them." All of the guys agreed in unison. They let you and Chan have your moment while they waited for you both to return and finish the game. 

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