#shapable

[lawbernard24]

Judgemental clay man

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑯

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, comfort

word count: 2.5k

summary: joel brings you a care pack Maria gave him and you find a razor inside but when you confess your insecurities around the topic, Joel offers to help you out.

warnings: oral (receiving), reader having body hair and mentions of people nagging her about it pre-outbreak, joel trimming and shaving you, very domestic and soft joel

a/n: this is very self-indulgent babes, very soft joel, very domestic joel. I just want that big gruff man to take care of me thank you very much.

You still love the rain. 

It didn’t matter if you were out under a tent, didn’t matter if you were huddled with Joel in a cave—you still loved it all the same. The sound of thunder, the cold water drops against your skin, the smell. 

God, the smell of wet soil, the freshness of it swirling in your lungs. Observing the gray sky, the moving clouds, and the peaks of the mountains hidden beneath them, you’re in love with it all. Even on days when you were frustrated, angry, bloody, and bruised, the rain seemed to wash that all away without even touching your skin. 

You smile underneath the heavy downpour of the steaming shower. Your bones ache tenderly, muscles turning to shapable clay underneath waterdrops. It’s heavenly. You don’t even remember the last time you felt warm water sliding down your body. Even after giving Tommy an earful about not letting Joel know he was alright, you have to give him kudos for building a life for himself. Jackson seems like the perfect community; there was food, hot water, homes—and most importantly, safety. 

Turning off the water, you step outside. It almost feels like the old days. Your mirror is fogged up, the steam clinging to your softened skin. Wrapping a towel snugly around your body, you wonder what Joel is up to. 

Tommy and Maria had prepared you two separate rooms. It wasn’t needed, but you kept your mouth shut at the time. It’s still hard to know what Joel would be comfortable with. Maybe he preferred to sleep alone, you didn’t want to force him into anything he didn’t want to. He hadn’t said anything to that, he just placed a hand over your thigh, squeezing it tenderly from underneath the table. His gaze never left Tommy’s when he did, the conversation still flowing effortlessly. 

When you step out of the bathroom, the steam shadowing your steps, you’re surprised to find Joel on the bed. 

His gaze slowly moves up, a smile blossoming on his lips. You had dubbed that smile of his his “half-smile”. Happy but unsure if he should be. 

“Lookin’ good,” he murmurs, soft browns raking up and down your body. “Fresh as a daisy.” 

You grin and, lifting the bottom of your towel slightly, give him an unbalanced bow. “Why thank you, kind sir.” 

His smile widens and you practically melt under his gaze. Without saying another word, he throws a small bag toward you. Nearly falling, you catch it and peek inside. It’s a menstrual cup, a half-decent razor, and a small pair of scissors. You shoot him a quizzical look. 

“From Maria,” he says. “I have no idea what’s in it.” 

“Nothing important. A menstrual cup and a razor.” you exhale. 

“Then why are you actin’ as if she gave you a severed finger? Aren’t those…good things?” 

“It is. Just, I don’t know. It’s good.” 

He raises to his feet and a second later two strong arms wrap themselves around you. You lean into him without a second thought, if water is seeping through his shirt, he doesn’t say a word. Joel’s thumbs move in circles above the towel. You let out a sigh. 

“I’m not good at it,” you say hoping that he’ll just understand. 

He doesn’t.

“Not good at what?” 

You really hate this. It’s a stupid thing to worry about but your inability to properly shave had always proven to be an issue before the outbreak. Men scrunching up their noses, friends commenting you should get it removed, professionals claiming it’s “dirty” when realistically speaking it wasn't. 

Then the outbreak happened, and even though it was the end of the world, at least you didn’t need to worry about body hair. A bit of a heartless thought, you realize, but your brain still whispers gratitude from time to time. 

Joel didn’t mind, or just didn’t say anything. He held you all the same, fucking himself deeper with every thrust, holding you tight enough that you were convinced he’d never let you go. He starved for you. Some days he tasted you until you felt raw and overwhelmed. He never said anything. Why would he when the both of you were just trying to survive? 

But now that was different. You had a temporary home, warm water. 

A bed. 

It just feels silly to admit this insecurity now. He’s already seen it all, felt it all, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to tidy yourself up a bit. You have the time after all. God knows when you’ll get a chance like this again. 

Joel’s arms tighten around you and you feel his chapped lips against your neck. You’ve been silent for too long. 

“Tell me.” 

You swallow. “Shaving.” you answer. “I’m not…I’m not good at it. Always miss a spot especially—” 

“Especially?” 

You hear the blood rush in your ears, your heart beats in your throat. Your lips are sealed shut, a thin line refusing to break. When his hand slides down your stomach you look down, your legs already shaking. His lips touch your ear. 

“Show me.” 

Covering his hand with your own, you guide him down until it’s resting on your mound. His fingers gently press down, he feels the fabric of the towel and his lips brush the side of your chin. 

“Do you want me to help?” his breath feels heavy and warm against your skin.

“You’d…” you lick your lips. “You’d want to do that?” 

“Only if you want me to,” he answers, large hands gripping your hips. “You don’t have to do it, of course. I mean, you don’t have to shave if that’s not your thing.” 

You turn within his arms and cradle his face with both hands. You feel light as a feather, soft tears building in your eyes as you smile. Joel must’ve seen the extra shine because he leans in to kiss you. It’s not a consuming kiss but a comforting one. You take deep breaths as those same pair of lips travel down the column of your throat, his kisses wet when he reaches your shoulder. He gently nudges you towards the bed. 

“Lay down the towel, get comfortable.” you feel his lips one more time before he parts away. “I’ll be back in a minute.” 

You do as you’re told. Laying down the towel, you swallow how nervous you are. The coolness of the room chills your skin but your insides are boiling hot. You feel like you should do more than just laying down on a towel, like you should prepare more thoroughly. But you’ve already taken a shower. Not really much else you can do but that right? 

Your fingers twitch over the bed sheets and stare blankly at the ceiling. This is awkward. You should’ve said no, you should’ve—

“Breath in, sweetheart,” Joel says standing at the door with a small bucket and another towel. He sighs when you give him a look of—what you assume—absolute horror. 

The bed dips as he takes a seat at the end. Placing the bucket full of water down, he skims your leg with the tips of his fingers. 

“We can stop whenever you want to,” he reminds you. “I promise to be careful.” 

You mutter alright and as soon as you do his hand moves to the inner section of your leg, heat gathers at the base of your spine, you let out a breath. 

“Part you legs for me, honey.” 

The pose alone feels uncomfortably familiar. You remember the days you would have to get waxed, how it would hurt and how you would just stare at the ceiling thinking that it’d be over soon. You press your sweaty hands into the sheets, a slight termble to your thighs as Joel comes closer. His hand finds the dip of your waist, his touch feather light, moving up your body and resting right under the swell of your breast. The gesture sooths you like it would a wounded animal. You let out a breath. 

Your gaze drops to look at him and he holds your gaze, squeezing your flesh tenderly before pulling back his hand. He raises his brows and you nod at his silent question. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. And when your head falls back into the pillows you’re smiling, the tension drained away from your muscles. 

You never thought that this would be the type of comfort you would be receiving during the ends of the earth. Joel is gentle, precise. He’s a man that’s good with his hands and it shows. His thumb moves between your folds, when you let out a sharp sigh, he repeats the movement and his lips curl with amusement. 

“You like that?” 

You hum. “It feels good.” 

“I’ll make you feel even better in a bit.” 

First he trims down the hairs, then he dabs your mound with the water he brought and begins shaving you. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s oddly soothing. His fingers move over the places that are freshly shaved, a soft hum echoing from his throat at a job well done. He takes his time. And whenever you look down you notice the swirl of emotion in his eyes that he’s enjoying doing this for you. The crease between his brows softens, the tip of his tongue snug between his lips as he continues. It’s nice. 

“You enjoy this?” you ask, it sounds louder in the silence of the room. 

Joel takes a moment to wet the razor again, cleaning the access.  When he looks up to you, you can’t help but press your knee into his cheek. He leans into the contact, lips finding the slope and leaving a tender kiss. 

“I enjoy that you trust me,” he murmurs. “I enjoy takin’ care of you.” 

“That’s a relief,” you answer, your head falling back down. You shudder as you feel his lips once more, then he spreads your legs again. “And for the record I do like…being taken care of.” 

“You don’t need to be shy about it,” he drawls. “I know.” 

Your heart skips a beat, blood pools under your nails. “You do?” 

“I mean…yeah?” he chuckles. “We’ve been together for a while, you and I, and I think by now I know a thing or two of what you like. I love it when you cling to me when I’m inside you, the way you mutter for me to hold you and go harder,” his voice drops a beat, his breath hot and heavy as it fans over your sex. Slick pools between your legs. “I know it wasn’t always good with me but I’m glad to be the person you turn to.” 

“Joel…”

Before you can say anything, he presses a towel against your core and wipes you down. He doesn’t look back at you as he does so. You know that it’s hard for him to say that. To confess something he hadn’t even confessed to himself for years. 

“All done.” he says, throwing the razor into the bucket and the towel to the floor. Joel doesn’t move away, and neither do you. Your breathing grows heavy, your chest stuttering with every exhale. He comes closer and guides your legs above his shoulder. You feel his breath, his heat, his gaze. 

He kisses the skin right under your pubic bone, he holds your gaze as he moves up, his lips tender against your folds. 

“Can I?” he whispers, the need of his tone sending shudders up your spine. 

“Go ahead.” 

Joel’s tongue dips between the lips of your cunt, his lips moving the same way it does when he presses them onto your mouth. His fingers bite into your skin, the movement of his tongue more eager as he tugs you further down and into his mouth. Joel savors the taste as moves he long and slow. You feel the flat of his tongue, the trembling of his chest as he groans into you. Without thinking you jerk towards his mouth, his lips too sinful, too good for you to stay still. You thread your fingers into his hair and pull him closer. 

A moan part your lips as he parts your folds and flicks his tongue over your clit. A sharp feeling of pelasure courses through you, too sudden to be described as a wave, too overwhelming and lingering to be described as a jolt of electricity. He’s the only one to make you feel like this. He laves at the sensitive bundle fo nerves, pursing his lips around the nub and swirling his tongue around it. You chase the feeling, grinding up into him until he pins your hips down and inhales you. 

“Stay still,” he groans. “You taste so good, honey. Could live out the rest of my days spoilin’ this perfect cunt.” 

He sloopily laps at your cunt and sucks at the clit, the pads of his fingers draw circles over your aching hole before sliding two in. Your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping nearly all the way to your chest. 

“Shit—” you choke out, your hips trembling. “Shit, shit, shit. Joel, please—” 

“Love it when you get all needy for me,” he says, licking a stripe up between your folds as he rocks his fingers deeper into you. “My sweet girl, can’t even as what she wants. You want me to make you come, sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you cry out. “Yes, yes, please make me come. Please—you feel so good, Joel.” 

He nips at the inside of your thigh before coming back to your sex, his fingers are knuckle deep and you see white when he curls them. Every nerve is burning with want, with need. Your stomach tightens, your skin prickling with everything he does. You can barely breathe, suffocating and swallowing down your bated breaths. 

He takes his time, pulling his fingers out before plunging them back in, pushing you to the very brink. You shudder, your body trembling with pleasure as he laps and suckles at your sweetest spots. His tongue moves in circles and swirls, flicking and rubbing against your clit as he increases the tempo. His fingers work in tandem, thrusting deep inside you, his other hand holding you firmly in place. 

Your body is consumed by him, your mind spinning from the intensity of it. Joel doesn't let up, his movements becoming more and more frenzied as he brings you to the edge of oblivion. You can feel your orgasm building inside you, and as it reaches its peak you break down, letting out a cry as you gush around his fingers and drench his lips. You grip at Joel's hair as your body is rocked by wave after wave of pleasure, your hips bucking wildly against his face as your orgasm takes full control. 

Joel holds you close, his fingers still inside you as your orgasm slowly subsides. He kisses your stomach, and you feel a warmth spread through you.

He pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean before moving up your body and pulling you into a tight embrace. There’s something incredibly vulnerable about you being completely in the nude while he’s compeltly clothed. You curl into a ball, he pulls you closer. 

“I think I need another shower,” you grin, looking up. “You made a mess of me, Joel Miller.” 

“Up to you,” he murmurs and presses his lips to your forehead. “But this time I’m joining you.” 

[materialsscienceandengineering]

A Band-Aid for the heart? New 3D printing method makes this, and much more, possible

In the quest to develop life-like materials to replace and repair human body parts, scientists face a formidable challenge: Real tissues are often both strong and stretchable and vary in shape and size. A CU Boulder-led team, in collaboration with researchers at the University of Pennsylvania, has taken a critical step toward cracking that code. They've developed a new way to 3D print material that is at once elastic enough to withstand a heart's persistent beating, tough enough to endure the crushing load placed on joints, and easily shapable to fit a patient's unique defects. Better yet, it sticks easily to wet tissue.

Read more.

[saey707]

Spirit blossom Thresh x fem!reader please

✿ Prompt: The spirit of obsession, Thresh, wants to preserve your mortal innocence ✿

♡ champion focus: thresh ♡ tw: slight nsfw, obsession ♡ Fem reader

Author’s Note: Thank you for suggesting! Since this request was unspecified I went with something a tinier bit naughty for Spirit Blossom! Thresh. Also! This work is not a female reader, but the reader is implied to be feminine ☆〜（ゝ。∂）Enjoy!

Purity was frequently symbolized by the color white. Untouched, like fresh, moonlit snow. It was delicate, frail, and blameless even... It was the color Thresh used to describe you.

You were a tender, ivory blossom, something much more divine than that of any other mortal spirit that crossed the realm. From the moment Thresh’s lantern itched to taste your soul, he knew he had to have you. He knew he couldn’t allow you to stray down the same monotonous path that damned fox led all those other souls on... No, not you. 

In the eyes of the spirit realm’s cruel warden, you had so much potential. And Thresh always had a taste for the finer things, things with potential and endless opportunity, things that were shapable to his every desire and ill thought. It was not a mere passion of his, but an obsession. 

But you... Oh, you were more than he could have ever imagined. You were an angel to him, something he observed to be pure of heart, full of happiness and light. You were blessed. And blessed souls were the souls that had fulfilling lives, full of happiness and endearing memories, the ones who would be led down the path of nirvana. Sweet paradise...

How disgusted it made the spirit of obsession, how bitter a taste it was on his tongue. Paradise and nirvana... More like a privilege in Thresh's eyes. Something his poor, lost souls could never attain...

But, fear not, little soul. Even you who are as blessed as the moon's light could still find comfort inside his lantern...

Unlike the occasional mistakes he’s made as a father to all his spirits, Thresh was positive you wouldn’t be one of them... And he would perfectly manipulate you right into his loving arms.

Thresh pinned your half-naked figure down by the neck, against the plush and cloud-like cushioning, leering over your beautiful, untouched form. Your back was facing him, allowing him the perfect, view of your vulnerable, bare skin, as well as every deliciously feminine curve that outlined your figure.

The demon's large, tendril-like fingers pinning you by the nape of your neck began to slowly rub your bare skin, stopping just above your posterior. The slight scraping of his nails against your back sent shivers down your spine, Thresh admiring how sensitive to the touch you were.

He began to rub your hip, the massive being propping himself up behind you.

"You're gorgeous..." He praised you.

You were barely able to feel his wispy breath against the side of your face, but it was enough to leave you desperate and longing for him to panegyrize and admire you even more.

He yanked your body to turn the other way, your arms instinctively moving up to cover your bare breasts, only for him to stop you.

His sadistic and devilish eyes lured you right in, causing you to drop your arms, one hand against your collarbone, the other sprawled out beside you.

Thresh dragged his nail against your jawline, craning his neck forward to lean in, meeting you face to face.

"Tell me you like it here..." He brushed his lips against your chin.

"I like it here..." You responded shortly thereafter.

Your cheeks were flushed a perfect pink, edging him on.

"And... tell me you want to stay here with me..."

He was half shocked to hear himself request for you to say that, but even more so when you brought a hand up to tenderly caress his cheek, your lithe fingers brushing deep purple locks past his pointed ears.

"...I want to stay here with you..."

You beamed at him, the spirit sinking into your light-hearted touch. No matter how hard the spirit tried to study your face for any signs of imperfections or fear, your steady composure and certainty to remain by his side... Almost frightened himself.

"You... are the most peculiar soul I have ever come across." He commented, his ears ringing happily with your authentic laughter.

"I would hope that's a good thing, Spirit..."

Your lips barely grazed against his own, Thresh shutting his eyes.

And... For the first time in a long time, the sadistic spirit of obsession smiled.

"Perhaps not all bad... Though, I do find your purity... Enticing."

You were everything and more, pulling him along to the brink of insanity with your gentle smiles and loving grasp.

All that he wanted, everything he couldn’t have, sprawled out perfectly before him. Yet... Beneath him, he envisioned you so beautifully terrified. Scared underneath his hold, his scornful eyes taunting you. The gentle whisper of words making him wonder... What to do with you...

He chuckled, tapping his nail against his cheek.

How can he think such salacious thoughts about a soul? What in his right mind was torturing him to think so lasciviously?

How horrible was he for wanting you already? To ravage that purity and uncertainty, tainting you and your chances of ever attaining that sickening paradise.

He gnawed away at his own thoughts and temptations to just fuck you right now, making you scream and purr out his name every time he slammed into you..! Would you say his name? Or perhaps something more unexpected? Oh, Thresh certainly wouldn't mind if you decided to call him father if you wished...

"It's insatiable... My hunger. At the same time I cannot find myself wishing to consume you. It's as if you're... Lacking something vital."

Such a statement left you uneasy, Thresh reeling in his own thoughts right before you. It left you to wonder... What was on his mind?

You could only watch in the brevity of it all, torturously observing how Thresh's mind swirled with ideas, his facial expressions contorting into unreadable states that left you wondering what ideas he was conjuring up.

And the longer you reeled...

The more terrified you felt beneath his sadistic stare.

It was as if you were becoming more aware of the impending doom that was beginning to unfold and reveal it's truth right before your eyes.

"Maybe... We should... Stop and have a meal then..." You shakily suggested, the demon grabbed at your chin to shut you up. He could feel the slight tremble of your breath and the way your eyes dilated as soon as he grabbed you.

And oh how he loved it...

There it was! The sweet, beautiful fear upon his little soul's face was the secret sauce!

"Ah ah ah~ Don't try take back your words now, we're just getting started." Thresh spoke lowly, barely suppressing the maniacal giggles by gnawing his fanged teeth into his index finger.

However, when you began to squirm underneath his confines, he shook his head.

"Oh, don't worry, little one... I'll be gentle..."

He would make sure he would be the only man that would ever get to touch you and hold you so intensely, so much so that you would be sublimely meek and eager to meet his tender-loving cruelty.

Because you were a white lily ensnared in the cold hands of the devil himself... and he sure as hell wasn't going to let you go.

"For now..."

[reading-stains]

I just thought about how Dick was the youngest to be taken under Bruce’s wing. Always the youngest, the most shapable of all the kids because he was the youngest. He was a blanker slate compared to the others in the personal identity sense. He was and always will be Dick Grayson. But it’s different to know who you are before the Bat. You haven’t even started pre-algebra. And it’s not easy, later, to know you’re the one that dealt with all the first trials and all the first mistakes and be the youngest to face them.

And he’s had trouble watching Bruce with the others. Jason died. Tim is driven into obsession time and time again. Stephanie is hurt and they all thought she died too.

So he’s hurting. He’s watching Bruce, a man that he knows is at least trying, but having extreme difficulties keeping the kids he takes under his wing alive, let alone stay okay. He’s watching him fail and fail and Dick feels like getting in the way is losing and staying out of it is too.

And when Damian arrives, he’s eight years old.

Eight. Dick had been eight. Lost and confused and his parents died in front of him.

Damian isn’t like him. He comes from blood. He’s killed before he’s binged a kids show. He’s angry in a way Dick isn’t, but he’s still angry and Dick recognizes that in his bones.

And he’s not doing this again. He’s not letting these problems settle again. He’s not leaving Bruce to make the mistakes he made with him and with all the others. He can’t be the best case to come out of Bruce’s parenting. He can’t.

Eight years old, a kid just like he was. A different flavor of traumatized and emotionally unstable, but a kid.

I just thought is it just love? Later, of course it is. Dick loves Damian and I haven’t read anything stating otherwise.

But at the start. Is it redemption for the other times he didn’t step forward, despite the fact he had every right not to while he was hurting? And again, is it self-love? To stop what had been unfair to him, cruel with him, hard for him?

I just wonder. Dick Grayson, when you look at the child, is part of you seeing you trying to save yourself?

[squeakitties]

mia is shapable . smush her into new forms

[summerlovingbaby]

Who would Stay The Longest

Y/N sat at the gravestones of the fallen soldiers. No, they weren’t just soldiers. they were heros. And now they were gone. Y/N hated the word gone, it felt so permeant, like when you delete a picture or swallow your gum  too quickly. But they were. Dead, done, gone, buried, deceased. Whatever you wanted to call it. They were gone. 

And she wasn’t, which was the inherit problem.

She sat at their graves, alone and surrounded by the ghost of memories and occasionally sweeping off the leaves that fell on them. Sweeping the dirt off the stone headstones, and running her fingers along their engraved names, like they would change, She felt the rough stone along her fingertips, and the cold hard dirt that she sat on. She didn’t have the foresight to bring a blanket, nor would she have brought one if she thought about it.

She didn’t want a blanket, or food or water. If someone offered her one Billion dollars she wouldn’t except it, because  the one thing she wanted she wasn’t getting back, she wasn’t special enough for that.

As the sun shrunk behind the treeline and slipped behind the horizon, not than Y/N noticed, let alone even care. It felt like she had been there for a thousand years and would wait there for a thousand more, and she would only leave when she felt good and ready to. And she did not feel good,-not eating or drinking for days would do that to you, and she by no means would she feel ready anytime soon.

She heard the crunching of the fallen leaves behind him, followed by shallow quick breaths from walking up the hill. Her hand flew to the knife she wore around her thigh. and her fingers grabbed at the handle, gripping it tightly she felt her fingers turning red. She heard the footsteps get closer and the breathing get heavier. She felt his warm fingertips through her shirt as he lightly tapped her on the shoulders, she knew it was him but didn’t care.

Will Solace, son of Apollo and probably the warmest guy at camp, temperature and personality wise. When he smiled, the sun off reflected off his teeth to make it look like gold, and when the moon shone on him, his smile looked like pure whith pearls.

As soon as the fingers connected with her shoulders she grabbed his hand and yanked it down, moved her feet from their criss cross position ans outstretched her legs out in front of her, and forced his body over her, throwing him over her shoulder. He flew over her head, his head hardly missing the top  of his own brother’s headstone. He landed on his back with a thud, then led there for a moment.

He of all people could understand why she would wait here. Laying on his back and looking up at the sky through the trees made everything seem so calm and night. The leaves swayed in the chilling night air, and they hid the sky from view, but of you looked hard enough the obscured stars would peak through the leaves ever so slightly and that made him smile.

He took a few deep breaths and sat up, using his arms to push himself to his knees and peaking his head over the top of the headstone, He smiled. That stupid classic Will Solace smile, that usually could brighten hell itself, but right now it made his overtly happy face seem so shapable it made Y/N’s fingers shake.

His fingers tapped at the top of his brother’s gravestone. “That was a nice throw, I was half expecting you to stab me, but a nice through none the less.”

Y/N looked at his face, still smiling at a makeshift cemetery. His blue eyes as bright as ever despite the darkness. His shaggy blonde hair bounced on his head every time he moved, and he was long overdue for a haircut. Despite the glare that she gave him, the corners of his mouth turned into a smile. He still found away to smile through all this grief, surrounded in a field of tragedy and bodies. Y/N wondered if they already started decomposing in their caskets, but thinking about that made something rise in her throat so she pushed it away.

“ Next time I will stab you.” she spoke, her eyes drifted down to the headstone, and tucked her legs back into the Criss Cross position again. “ Right in the neck.”

He playfully grabbed at his chest, mocking a person struggling to breathe. “ Oh you wound me.” he said grabbing at his neck, and falling backwards landing on his back again. It was a bad show he put on the make her smile. But he peeked over the top of the headstone, to see her still grimacing. Her eyes narrowed in on the dirt of the freshly dug grave, and nose shriveled up in disgust.

She was thinking about him. His skin and his body rock hard, his fingertips so stiff that they wouldn’t even move.His face aged with death, death did that to people. It always seemed to age a person 1000 years. She thought about gaping hole in his stomach that had already started to decompose. He wasn’t buried in a suit, just jeans and a yellow shirt that Will always stole for him to wear. He thought of time moving on before him, his body stuck forever in place, the only sign of him aging would be the decomposition of his body. Maybe it wouldn’t do it so fast if it got cold enough quickly, So she wished it would snow, just to escape permance grasp of his body breaking down forever.

“What are you thinking about?” Will asked, poking her in this shoulder.

“ Snow.” she stated simply. She tried to keep her voice still but it cracked slightly.

His face turned sullen, his eyelids drooping and the corners of his mouth dropped to a place between a grimmace and a frown. He hated the cold. Son of the sun god. “ It’s too warm for snow. At least here.”

“ Maybe we could summon a snow spirit, and she could make it cold forever.”

If she could freeze any moment in time it would be the moment beofre the war. Amanda, her best friend since diapers would still be alive, along with the most f her cabin mates. Her boyfriends biggest worry would be making sure he didn’t run out of pomade, and her biggest worry was proving that she could beat Lucy at Uno. She couldn’t beat her at uno. Next thing she knew she was telling whoever was left in cabin 9 how many caskets to build and how many headstones they needed to engrave. What to put on a epitaph, you could only come up with so many before they sounded dumb or cliche, so many were left blank.

“ How long have you been here?” he asked. He sat next to her, running his finers along the fresh dirt, that hadn’t quite hardened on the top of it. Feeling the topsoil and grabbing handfuls before flattening them out again.

She checked her watch and then went back to staring at the headstone.” 3 hours and 14 minutes.”

It wasn’t a lie exactly, she had been sitting at that grave for 3 hours and 14, now 15 minutes, and before that she was at Lucy’s grave  before that, thinking about that time she had to give Lucy the hemiclich maneuver because she never chewed properly, and swallowed haphazardly and choked on a large bite of apple. 4 hours before that she was at Amanda’s grave replacing the flowers despite the fact that they were so fresh the flowers hadn’t yet bloomed. But that wasn’t what he meant. She had missed all mealtimes and hadn’t gone back to the cabin since the funeral.

She was still wearing the clothes she wore to the funeral. Back combat boots laced up to the ankles, and long ribbed socks that went up to mid calf because if they went up any further, they would make her legs itchy. A simple black pleated skirt that she must have stolen from Anabeths closet and a simple black tee. Her camp necklace around her neck, along with a shark tooth that she never took off. Her shirt had gone wrinkled from wear and her fancy funeral updo had frizzed in the humidity and fallen when she flew into hysterics.

He leaned in and placed his head on her shoulder, the top of his yellow hair brushing against her neck. “ I think it’s time.” he whispered. “ I think it’s time to go back, maybe take a shower, this isn’t good for you.”

She knew it wasn’t good but didn’t care. As far as she was concerned her home was beneath her. Buried in the dirt beheath her feet. Her cabin was practically empty. Everyone was either claimed by their godly parent or dead. She was happy for them, she really was, but she couldn’t help but feel all alone. Mourning the dead and taking in there losses. It was lonely work, when all your friends were celebrating theor wins and she had none to celebrate.

The one time she walked back into her cabin it felt open and drafty. Like someone spent a wind god through the room. It chilled her down to the bone and she hadn’t stepped in it sense, and wasnt anytime soon.

She shook her head quickly, not letting her eyes abandon the grave. “ No.”

“Y/N-”

“ I’m not ready.” she whispered.

“ I don’t think anybody’s ever ready for these types of things.” he responded. 

He brushed the side of her face and felt her lip quiver slightly, before she bit it to keep herself from crying. She did that often, hurt herself to keep the emotions away. If she could focus on the pain in the present then she could keep the upsetting thoughts away. But this grief was a pain that nothing could compare to. She couldn’t stab herself in the leg or make her  nose bleed or stick her head in the river that ran through camp to try to cut off oxygen.

This was the worst type of pain for her. The pain in the present, the pain where there was no practical solution to. Her friends were dead. There was not much that could be done. No spell, no magic, no god could bring them back. She prayed. It didn’t work, and begging on your knees for no one to respond was shameful. And she could not tell what she was ashamed of more: that she had prayed to flakey gods to begin with, or that she actually thought they would respond.

Greif made her delusional. Greif also made her jump down the throats of anyone who got within a yelling distance of. It was shocking that it took her so long to get angry with Will.

“ You seem to be ready.” she snapped.

He had abandoned the funeral because he couldn’t stand looking at the bodies of his dead friend's no more could he stand the river styx. He went to the celebration after the war that was really mostly a birthday party for Percy Jackson.

“ Did you even love him?” she asked. She felt his body tense, it was a statement that she couldn’t take back, and one he couldn’t ignore. “ Now leave. I wish to be left alone.

She felt him get off her shoulder and turned to look at him. He had some unreadable expression, something between content and destain. She noticed his arms, that went tense, and noticed he had balled his hands in his fist.

“ You’re angry, I understand. You have every right to be. But I’m not going to watch you die mourning the dead. Your tired, and you need to eat and sleep. I will drag you out of this cemetery by your braids if you try to fight me on it. “ he spoke calmly. His face settling into something quiet. His body still rigid with anger but his face content with understanding. “ You’ve done good. The funerals are over, and they are buried. It’s time to come home, you can mourn them from there.”

“I would like to be  left alone.”

Will sauntered away, muttering something to herself and shaking his head. He wandered his way all the way to Cabin 3. The smell of salt water radiating off of it before he got even close to it.

To be honest, will always hated that color. It was a mix between teal and swamp green. The outside of the cabin looked... proud. WIth 15 feet tall pillars and a large green door with childrens crayons drawings on them. No doubt made by Tyson and hung by Percy. Tyson and Percy were about as close as brothers as anyone could be, and Will distained them. 

They weren’t real brothers. They had only known each other for a few years and they spent most of their time apart. Brotherhood went beyond blood and anyone who cared to know that, Will made the effort to smile to.

He found Percy on  the porch, his arms draped over Anabeth, who was reading the latest issue of Architect Digest. Anabeth was engrossed in the book and Percy was engrossed in her, sniffing her hair that somehow always smelled like coconuts.

“ Will-” Percy started. Percy looked up at him. His green eyes looked darker in the night time. His jet black hair seemed unchanged. Will hadn’t looked at Percy in a while. Really taken him in since he became invested in the war.

Percy had changed alot. Looked a tad like Luke but shorter and stronger. It wouldn’t be odd if someone mistake d him from a young god that got lost and ended up in the mortal world. His face was calm and relaxed, His jaw was unclenched for the first time in a while, finally letting himself relax because the war was over.

The war was finally over, but Will wasn’t ready to move on.

“ I’m worried about Y/N.”

“ I would be worried if you wern’t.” Anabeth said, her eyes not looking up,still engrossed with whatever she was reading and popsicle stick bridges that could hold pennies.

“ She’s at the cemetery.” he said stiffly. His bright smile was gone and replaced with a cold one. Something sick and stiff.

“ I would be surprised if she wasn’t.” Percy laughed.

“ She hasn’t left since the funeral.”

They both looked up the hill and past the trees at her. Her slumped over the headstone of someone’s grave. She looked so small from far away. Like fragility had danced across her , and raked itself across her body.

“ Can you talk to her?”

Percy could almost laugh. He was possibly the worst person to talk to her. Y/N  didn’t like Percy, and that was evident.She would always look upon him with a fatal destain, and when they stood to close together she would always turn up her nose. As if he smelled like road kill.

“ That isn’t a good idea.” he stated, biting his teeth, wishing to say that the last thing he wished to do was talk to her. “ She doesn’t like me.”

“ She actually thinks very highly of you.”

“ Why can’t you talk to her.”

“I’ve tried. Will you do this one thing for me?”

Wills yellow eyes bore  into Percy and he felt that he could not say no. If anyone owed anyone anything. Percy owed will. Though Percy had no knowledge of this, his brother was dead because of him. Drowned on a bridge, Percy had also forced away the boy that Will thought he would love one day. That Percy knew about. Guilt shot its way through Percy, here he was, arms draped around Annabeth, the girl he knew that he loved, smiling and preening like a peacock.

“ Okay.” he spoke. Will nodded slightly, then walked away, he had no other reason to stay.

He pushed Annabeth away and stood. Will looked at Percy and finally understood why people would mistake him for godly. His face was smooth and mostly unmarked, minus a few scars that didn’t make him look ugly, but heroic. His body looked chistled, and the muscles that were visible underneath his clothes were sharp and hard edged like a blade had cut away at the useless things like fat.

He walked off the porch and up the hill, taking a moment to admire the trees. He never had a reason t gaze upon them before, having never seen the value of them. But now that he almost died, more times than a daredevil would enjoy he appreciated them. He ran his fingertips along the bark. It was rough and bumpy, and ants crawled along it.

He continued his way to the cemetery. The air turned cold and stale. It seemed as if Y/N was in such hysterics that she didn’t notice, or she had given up on her personal safety and didn’t care. She detached herself from the grave, and now sat upright. Gripping at the soil, which had somehow grown moist suddenly. Percy clicked his tongue, hoping to gain her attention. Her hands did not go for her knife, that she was so keen on keeping it close, instead they stayed on her lap. Criss crossed and in fist.

“ You’ve been up here a long time.”

“ You should send someone to check on me.” she stated clinically. Her hands unclenched and her body didn’t relax just seemed to get stiffer. She lifted her nose away from him.

“ You sound like Annabeth.”

“ And you sound like my mother.” she snapped. She meant what she said, and didn’t want to take back the cruel words that she pushed out of her throat and into her tongue.

It was meant to be a insult and Percy accepted it as one. It was no secret that Y/N hated her mother. She was a drunk and when she wasn’t drinking she was high and when she wasn’t high she was beating her. She lived alone with her mother until the age of 13, and had no one else in the household to interfere. She wished her mother dead instead of her father who drowned when she was a kid. It was one of her earliest memories, and the only thing she remembered was the palm of his hand above the cruel tide of the ocean fighting not to drown.

They never found a body and buried a empty casket. As she thought of her father she was glad that at least she had bodies this time, there is nothing more purposeless than an empty casket.

“ It’s time to go home.”

“ It’s time for you to leave.” she repeated. “ I have no need for your pity or concern. If I wanted to be babied then I would have let Will stay.”

“ I’m not gonna baby you.” he stated. He rested his hands on his hips and let his eyes drift to the graves. Some of them still unmarked. The cemetery used to be a lonely place, now it was crowded with ghosts. You could no longer be alone when you sat here, you would only be surrounded by a sickly feeling that made you want to leave.

“ You are.” she snapped. Her body went rigid and her jaw went tense once she was finished speaking.

“ That was not my intention.” he spoke, he jammed his fist in his jean jackets and bounced on his feet. He hated staying as motionless as she did.

“ Then what is your intention.”

“ I understand how you feel.” he bent at the knees and kneeled down next to her before falling backwards on his butt next to her. A small grunt left his lips as he landed and for a feeble second he understood why she sat where she did. It made things seem unreal and the world look smaller than it was. Like it would collapse in his palm if he wished it. 

“ You don’t.”

“ This war... it took alot from me. It’s hard to grieve when you're trying to do so many things, and when it hits you it hits you so hard it knocks you over. It makes a gaping hole in your chest and your stomach. And every time you think about them you just fall in it. The hole never goes away, it just gets smaller. You won’t forget them. I never have, you think about them when it’s the little things that are missing, and when you remeber them, you fall into that hole all over again.”

“ Was that supposed to be inspirational?” she asked.

“ No... it was supposed to be true.”

She raised her eyebrows before her face changed into something unreadable.

A moment passed between them, It was silent and still, even the trees which waves kept blowing and rustling agaisnt themselves and the cicadas stopped singing, as if a god themself wished them quiet. Percy hated the silence.

“ You sitting here, wasting away won’t make them any less dead. They will always be dead, nothing will change that. But I know they wouldn’t want you sitting here sad and alone.”

Her face shifted into a noticeable anger that she bothered not to hide, her arm went floppy as she felt rage pierce her skin and enter her bloodstream and pinpointing to every nerve ending in her body.

“ THEY DON’T WANT ANYTHING THEY’RE DEAD.” she rose to her feet, the anger shot through her spine making her want to stand. Percy feeling threateend stood as well. “ THEY ARE ALL DEAD THEY DON’T WANT ANYTHING. THEY HAVE NO MORE THOUGHTS NO MORE FEELING NO MORE ANYTHING.THEY ARE GONE!”

She looked at his face. And resented it. It was still warm and tepid and  that made her angry, she had turned cold surrounded by all this grief and he still had it in him to be warm.

“ Calm down-”

“ YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, I’VE LOST EVERYTHING. I HAVE NO ONE. EVERYBODY I KNEW IS IN A CASKET. I AM ALONE” her body felt loose, the gravity of the truth of her statement sat on her shoulders and made her slump. Tears dripped down her face and she made no effort to hide them. 

“ You have me.” Percy offered.

“ I don’t have you. “ she stood taller, getting angry at his words. “ Annabeth has you, Grover has you, Rachel has you. Clarisse has you, Will has you. I have no one.”

“ You’re parent-”

“ Hasn’t claimed me. They won’t ever claim me. All my cabin mates are getting families and I just burried mine.”

Percys throat felt dry as if all the water was stolen from the air, he hung hi head in shame, embarrassed at his inability to breathe, He became aware of the water pooling at his feet. He looked to the trees, which had started to dry and brown, the moisture having been sucked out of it.

No, this was not his doing. It was either the work of his father, which he doubted or the work of a monster who wished him dead.

“ I fought, I worked , I sacrificed so much already. You don’t get to feel empty like I do, you have everything I want, you have everything you need. You have people to miss you when you’re gone.”

Water pooled at her feet and she payed no mind to the puddle she found herself in. She swung her arms around her in anger, she was so angry that it took over her eyes. Percy looked at them, searching for something more calm. He never noticed her face before. It was pointy with smooth features. Smooth skin and a wide flat nose.  Never noticed her eyes which he always assumed was grey like a storm cloud. Similar to Annabeth, but they were green. The shade of saltwater soaked steel that was neglected and turned green.

“ Your father claimed you the second you got to camp! I thought I would finally get to be happy. I’ve been fighting since I was a child. I’m done-” she gritted.

“ Calm down.”

“ DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW THEM. CAN’T EVEN REMEBER THEIR NAMES.THEY WERE JUST PEOPLE TO YOU, PEOPLE IN YOUR STORY. THEY WERE MY LIFE! DON’T STAND HERE AND PRETEND TO MOURN.” Her eyes glowed like the full moon in a cloudless sky. “ YOU HAVE NO RIGHT.” her voice sounded like many people speaking at once.

Percy pulled his pen from his pocket, and it grew to a sword. Her toes lifted from the ground and her hair lifted from her shoulders. For a moment, if only for a second she looked afraid. Her eyelids melted into her eyelids with fear and she looked around for help, before anger over took her. Her eyebrows lifted and she jutted out her chin with a prideful smile. She tilted her head violently to left.

It struck Percy with a word that he coldn’t explain. He wasn’t afraid, but wasn’t not afraid either. He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, and bent his knees waiting for a blow.

“ WHO ARE YOU?” he called.

She laughed at him causing the trees to quiver as even more water was sucked from their veins. Percy heard a faint whistling echo through the trees. A celestial bronze ripped through the air and implanted itself in her shoulder. That same look of fear flashed across her face, before her body went limp and she fell to the ground.

Thalia stood at  the bottom of the hill. Her bow already loaded with another arrow. Not because she was afraid that she would miss. Hunters of Artemis. Percy nodded at her, and she lowered her bow and nodded back and started up the hill.

Percy looked at her. Her body weak and frail and small. But I did not lose his attention with how much wait she lost, or her odd behavior, but was at her head. Not because it was bashed in. It was what was floating just above her her head. A three pronged trident.

She was just claimed. She was the daughter of Posiden. Daughter of the Sea God.

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[emmimimii]

#4 Treasure | Marius Von Hagen

Dragon Marius be invoking something inside all of us so as usual

18+ ONLY, MINORS DON'T INTERACT

Taking inspo from the actual card dialogues - mostly the setting/ dragon weakspots (coughs I started one but decided there was too many plot and not enough smoot)

Warnings: NSFW, Vaginal penetration, Unprotected sex, missionary, double-dicks, oral

It’s been a week since you’ve been held captive by the Dragon.

You were on a mission to infiltrate the den of said dragon, to spy on the unsuspecting creature, and maybe if you’re lucky, find his weakness. But nothing went right, the dragon sensed your presence the moment you entered the cave, quickly capturing you with his long tail. You were expecting to be killed or eaten on the spot, but he didn’t. Well, he did devour you in another sense.

Captive. But you’re not in chains or locked up or anything. He’s not actively keeping you tied down to his cave, but rather you’re too fucked out to move, with the mix of his cream and your juices dripping out every time you move. He’s been having his way with you since the first night and it’s like he didn’t have an off switch, cause it’s been 5 days and besides sleeping and eating, all he’s doing is fucking more cum in you.

You remember how warm his tail was, wrapped around you. Your squirms leaving cuts all over your body, and he was attracted by your scent, turned on even. “Ojou-chan, you look so fucking delectable. Would be a waste to eat you up. I want to savour you forever.” And so he did. After the first taste of your blood, he had decided that you were way too precious to gobble in one go. “Flavours like this, you gotta savour.” He explains. And goes for your lips instead.

He was surprised, he didn’t think any human’s lips would taste even better than their blood. His fingers reached for your waist, making you gasp involuntarily at the sudden contact, and he took the chance to snake his tongue into your mouth, trying to delve deeper into this kiss, he wanted to know if you could taste any sweeter than you already were. His tail unraveled itself from your body, and instead pulled you towards the Demi Human, pressing your body closer to his, and he kisses you harder and deeper, letting his tongue run wild and explore every corner of your mouth. His kisses were intoxicating and it leaves your knees weak. Without knowing, You reach out and grab on to his body, wrapping your hands around his torso, and accidentally brushing over the top of his tail.

He flinches. Accidentally biting your lips. He reluctantly pulls away from you, breathing heavier than he was earlier, and his purple eyes growing darker with lust. And without another word, he grabs hold of your ass and lifts you up. He carries you over to his nest - a pile of gold. You shift uncomfortably at the hard metal pressing against your back. And he dives into your neck, nipping it slightly while dragging his tongue to your ear. “You should never touch a dragon’s lower back, ojou-san” He nips your ears lightly, your reply was to scoot away, but his grip on you never faltered. “Let me show you why.”

He holds up a finger, you notice the nails are not retracted like the others, and he cuts through your clothes straight down the middle like butter, leaving you in just your lingerie. Your skin was fair, any slight pressure would colour you red and pink, and his first impression upon seeing you was to ruin you. He wants to paint on you, with his touches, his breath, his bites. He wants to make you into a masterpiece, his masterpiece.

And so he does. He first dives for your collarbone, gently lapping on your skin, warning it, before nipping gently. He felt incredibly proud when he saw that he made a small purple mark, and he wants more. You’ve only met today, and you’ve already become his treasure. Your eyes, and tears they shone like the gems littered in his den, but unlike his gems, you’re soft, and so ‘shapable’, he’s going to make you into his treasure, and his alone.

And so he made his way, coating your skin with his lips, from your collarbone to your breasts, your naval, your thighs and the destination - your cunt. While he was taking his time experimenting painting on you, he was particularly delighted to know that with different pressure - your skin would colour differently, and so were your reactions, a light suckle would invoke a small moan, a bite would trigger a quick gasp, and his favourite was when he’d nip around your thighs, those little gaspy moans were ridiculously adorable. He never had an interest in learning how to play instruments, but he would play you any day.

You had grown wet from his ministrations, so when he peeled your wet panties off your cunt, his eyes shone. Shiny and Pink. So shiny, so pink. He was beginning to think that the gold surrounding you were not enough, they’re dull in comparison to your vagina. Unable to wait, he buries his head into your pussy, moaning about how he’s struck gold. This was everything he wanted, “Ojou-san, you taste so fuckingsweet” he murmurs from your cunt, vibrations of his voice sending you waves of pleasure, gasping, you reach for his head and grabbing hold of the curve of his horn, you pull him closer, and deeper, your legs clamping on to him desperately. You’re so close, he can’t stop now, and he won’t, enjoying the pressure on his head. And with a light nip on your clit, you let go, He lets his tongue wander deep in your cunt, lapping aggressively at the liquid gold trying to seep out from your pussy. He wasn’t about to let any precious liquid of yours go to waste.

When your grip on his horns loosened, body drained from energy with our orgasm. He gives your cunt one last lap, before standing upright, you notice the bulge growing increasingly tight around his pants. Entranced, you reach out to his pants (with one hand), cupping it you can feel the warmth radiating from against the fabric of his pants. Not sure what you should do next, you looked up at the Demi-human, he seemed to notice your uncertainty and grabs hold of your hand, moving it around, making you rub his warmth. You watched his face as he controls your palm movements and pressure, he has his eyes closed most the time, while letting out low grunts of pleasure.

Curious about how he’d react if you touched him directly, you reach for the buttons with your other hand. His fingers gripping on to the hand he’s holding once he realised what you were about to do. He stared at you from above, as he reached for your face, leading it closer to his crotch as he slipped off his pants, revealing two monstrous dicks. You were taken back for a second, glancing up to him “S-sir?”

“Call me Marius, Ojou-chan” Realising you never got his name before, you tested his name on your tongue “M-Marius?” His cocks twitched, reacting to being called out. “Okay Ojouchan, take your pick.” You stared at the two choices, the one in front was thicker and fatter, and the one behind was longer. You reach for both, one in each hand, and Marius let out a half chuckle half moan. “Ah-h I didn’t think you were this gr-greedy, ojouchan” You carefully move both your hands in the same pace, slow but firm, Marius reaches for your head and gently pushes it to his cocks. “Could you..?” You carefully lean in, flicking your tongue lightly on the head of the thicker cock. It twitches against your palm, obviously ecstatic that it’s been chosen. You lick around the head carefully, and without any warning, you nip lightly at it. (Revenge amirite)

Marius jolted at the sudden tease, staring at you, his eyes almost black from desire. You open your mouth wide and try to swallow his dick, keyword try. Maybe this cock was way too wide for your mouth, and as you were about to switch to the longer but less thick dick, you feel a hand press against the back of your head, pushing your head closer to his waist, and his dick deeper towards your throat. You choke slightly as you struggle against his grip, attempting to withdraw yourself from this member, and he uses this chance to pull you in closer again, your jaw hurt from the friction and force but at the same time you were anticipating the rewards that would come to you. And before you know it, the game of push and pull came to an end, with Marius’ fingers tangled in your locks, you were gifted a huge load of cum in your mouth and throat. You choke slightly, not used to feeling of sticky cum getting stuck in the caverns of your mouth and throat. It was too dense to spit out and could only be washed down with water.

Marius knowingly went to get you a bowl of water. And you downed the container in a jiffy, quickly washing away the feeling of suffocation. He was going to stop there, He really was, but once he saw how adorably fucked out you looked, he couldn’t control himself. Quickly pushing you down, he led his cock towards your pussy, enjoying the feeling of your lush lips pressing against his cock. After seeing your oral demonstration with his dick earlier, he decided to give some love to his longer dick instead (IDK HOW I SHOULD REFER TO THEM HELP). Your cunt was a lot tighter than your mouth, he’d realise that when he was eating you out, his tongue had a hard time navigating around the velvet walls, let alone the dick you struggled with your mouth.

He leans in to kiss you, while his fingers reach towards his dick, guiding it to your entrance. With a loud pop, he releases you from his kiss, “I’m going to fuck you.” He deadpans, and with a heavy thrust, he manages to enter with difficulty. Noticing the grimace on your face, he pauses, kissing the growing tears off your eyes. He was dying to move inside you, your walls clenching tightly around him, and it burns, your warmth burns. He was holding back his instinct to draw away from anything too warm, but you’re different, he could live within you forever, but at this moment, he just wants to move, he wants to thrust deep inside you, till he’s knocking on the doors of your cervix, the baby room. You’ve only met for a few hours but he already wants to fuck a baby into you, though he wasn’t sure about the responsibility part.

When he notices that the burrow between your brows have eased, he started to move. Starting slow, he grinds his hips around, giving his dick access to more areas and deeper in your cunt. He was literally stirring up your insides and it feels amazing. “We’ve only met hours ago and now Look at you taking in my dick so well-ah” He gasps out, enjoying the feeling of gummy walls repelling against his pressure. The warmth was addicting, but he wanted to move more, he wants to see you squirm harder, moan louder.

He pulls out slightly and begins to thrust, at first it was slow - giving you time to adjust to his pace and force. And all of a sudden, without any warning, he starts speeding up, ramming into your body, you moan uncontrollably, it was like your insides shifted upwards every time he thrust, he was ruthless and determined to make way for his dick to exist in your body, it didn’t help that his other dick was rubbing on your clit as aggressive as he thrust. The stimulation was way too intense and you’re on the brink of losing yourself from pleasure. “Fuck. Ho-w are you still tightening up?” He grunts out as you feel him stabbing on your g-spot repeatedly, sending waves after waves of electric shock making you tighten in return.

“Fuck, I can’t hold back anymore.” He growls out with difficulty as you feel him turn up his pace up a notch, ramming deeper and harder inside you. He’s lifted your limp ass at this point, letting his hips go wild, with force capable of bruising your thighs, he pushes his dick straight into your womb, and hot cum spills from both his dick, one painting your insides white, drenching it in his scent, the other, without any target lock, erratically spills all over your naval, leaving you with a burning sensation both in and out of your body, making you twitch uncontrollably as you meet with your own orgasm, the feeling sending you straight to heaven.

You feel your conscious start to fade as your adrenaline fades. The last thing you remember was the warm embrace of the dragon called Marius, holding you tight in his arms, dick still plugged in you, accompanied by the soft whispers of “That felt amazing, you really are my treas-“

When you wake up, you find yourself lying in a soft bed, soft but golden. Apparently Marius had stolen the bed from a rather rich Noble, someone who’s vain enough to plate their whole bed frame in gold, the whole golden ordeal was a treat to a Dragon’s eyes, it was begging to be taken. But I guess, tank you vain noble, because your next few days were spent on it, be it sleeping, eating or indulging in another fuck session. With the pace he’s getting horny, you think he’s a rabbit, constantly fucking. You didn’t get the chance to leave the bed, you were trapped because you were captivated by the dragon that calls you his treasure.

I’m proud to present that this man has made the wallpaper to my every device - aka my computer, iPad and phone wallpaper. He is beautiful and so very fucking sinful and he knows it - and fucking flaunts it (I hate that I love it, not really)

Also after a while of not writing smut - i feel like i forgot how to write dirty talk so forgive me

if it’s incoherent pls let it be known i wrote this at midnight and my brain is not open for business

[thebookworm0001]

The sourdough dough was shapable and did not flatten out on the counter while resting

It is now in the fridge to ferment

Dare I say this loaf may actually turn out nicely?

[cak3o]

Drawing gutsman,,,,is very hard…..

He has so many shape-related possibilities (shapabilities) that it’s hard to choose.

Arigas design obviously goes super hard but I also kinda like the similarities he and fire shared in the original designs….many thoughts.

[officialralsei]

if you're like a blob of slime how shapable are you? ...ok that's a weird way to word it but uhh, how much can you change your form conciously? like can you flatten and go under a door or stretch to be taller or are you stuck like this for now?

Umm... no, haha. I don't have control over things like that at all. But don't worry...! I'm solid enough that I can do most things normally!

[essencetale]

What is Essence?

Essence is a shapable spark within anything magical or living usally taking the form of mist. Essence is a limited tool and only a certain undestroyable amount exists. Essence can be reshaped and corrupted though.

Essence is worshiped and praised within this AU being seen as a force to be respected and loved since Essence is everything and everyone. Because of this belief, people will have several parties and carnivals to celebrate the concept of the ever re-giving magic and the concept of self-love and respect.

Since everyone is made of Essence and it cannot be destroyed, when a monster/human dies their essence will turn back into the magic within its world to be given back to the people. Because of this phenomenon death is highly respected and seen as something that gives back to others rather than a sad mournful event.

Nobody truly understands why Essence's true form takes the form of a bird, but this true form is shifted and changed depending on the person's sense of self and how they treat themself. Often people who don't care for themself will lose the ability to fly or have missing feathers while healthier people will have tails and their arms may be replaced with their wings.

Essence can be corrupted with large amounts of negative energy. Of course, negativity can be healthy but when it goes too far it can turn Essence faded and grey. Corrupted Essence cannot be fixed and must be discarded. Monsters and Humans with Corrupted Essence are often shunned and socially exiled.

[pandagirl45]

Tony Stark, I realized is the most anime main character magical girl like character to exist and I can’t explain why. 

He is so shapable into so many fun genres

Syfy space opera, easy

Syfy horror, hell yeah 

Anime magical girl, sure why not

Hellish demons sent to take over the world? Shit, he does that on the weekends. 

On the magical girl transformation-LIKE, his armor is literally that! I just thought about and the urge to draw him as a sailor knight is getting me all excited. Drawing him in any anime type of outfit would be dope. BUT, magical girl transformation mode activate is such a him moment. He would be like a Uranus and Jupiter style too, but with his signature colors. 

I can go on. OH, he would definitely fit in some kind Studio Ghibli setting. I don’t have to explain that, I think it just works. :DDD

[chiccolonnade]

Shapable body structure done very well even the quality of the material pity the face not faithful to the character. Shopping link

[dusk977]

Shapable body structure done very well even the quality of the material pity the face not faithful to the character. see the link here

[fashionandbeautyblog]

Shapable body structure done very well even the quality of the material pity the face not faithful to the character. Go to the link here