#sometimes i get embarassed by how much i want to be bred

[fraternum-momentum]

I CANT I CANTTTTTTT I WILL LITERALLY EXPLODE RJIKNHGKRSBKFUCKNHJHFBNJEA JFHBAEJHBFJHBHBHBHBHBBAZHJDBAJHDBAJKHBDJKNA????A//////!?!!!!!!!!??!!???!?!?!??!! I CANNOT I LITERALLY NOT THE CAN I CANTTTTTT RAUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[ftm2bbw]

You've had post-nut clarity before, but this hits you like nothing else has before. You can feel his cum, deep and warm inside your cunt. His cock is still buried inside you, twitching, the last few spurts dribbling out of him as he softens. His words still echo in your mind.

Pretty girl...

Fat fucking cow...

God damn this gigantic ass...

Fuck fuck fuck, here it cums...

The aftermath is awkward, laying there covered in sweat, not sure of what to do next as he pulls out of you and starts cleaning himself up. You know you ought to do something about the fertile seed he's left inside you, but you can't even bring yourself to sit up, your fat belly and enormous, heavy tits rising and falling with deep breaths. He asks you if you need a ride home, but that's about it. He just used you like a toy to get himself off, kneading your tits and fucking your cunt. And that's about it.

You aren't even sure that you should tell your partner, debating back and forth on the Uber ride home. You shouldn't fight fire with fire, the relationship already strained, so you decide to keep it to yourself. You just went out for the night. No questions. A lie of omission, if anything. Throwing away the panties that you wore when you realize that some of his cum did leak out of you and stain them.

You can keep it a secret, you tell yourself. You blame the morning sickness on something else. You say that you're trying to cut back on drinking for your health. Baby weight clings to your body, but you were always fat and greedy, so many it's just more and more of that. Hormonal mood swings aren't uncommon, though they do seem to be getting much worse.

But, as the weeks fly by, things get harder to hide. How do you explain the widening of your hips, not just padded with fat but actually wider? How do you explain the way your nipples have gotten bigger, darker. Your belly button has started smoothing out as your baby bump grows bigger by the day. And you can't hide the pumping sessions that now sometimes last hours. The jokes about you being a cow were right, you're a natural milk producer.

The shame. The humiliation. And a pregnancy too far along to stop it. Nothing to do but let it run its course as your partner looks on you with disgust. They become so much more forceful in their teasing, bordering on cruelty as they play with your udders and edge your pregnant body mercilessly.

You knew it was wrong and yet you did it anyway. You weren't in control that night, eight months ago. Your body was. Your womb was. It dictated its needs and the rest of you followed suit.

And now, here you are. Pregnant and nearly ready to burst. Fifty pounds heavier. On your hands and knees as your partner inspects your body, treating you roughly. Cupping your puffy, pregnant cunt and asking how it felt to be railed and bred. No matter what your answer, they just sneer and call you a pathetic, greedy cow slut.

And you know that's what you are.

Fuuuuuuck. I shouldn't admit how wet this made me, I really shouldn't.

I'm not sure what would be more embarassing, getting knocked up from the first time I fuck my friend. Or going back over and over and over, so desperate to be bred and so at the mercy of my womb that I can't help but get fucked and filled until it takes.

What's worse, beyond all the shame and humilation, feeling my womb swell with life would only want it more. Part of me would hate my fertility, hate that I was locked in for a full nine months of this, hate that I did this to my partner and our relationship. But an even bigger part of me would just feel so right, constantly horny at the swelling of my belly and my tits and my fertile hips and ass.

I'd given into my womb and there'd be no going back from there, ever. Just a fertile, fat cow who gave up on her transition and her morals to get bred again and again and again...

[meteor752]

I once read a Barduil post that suggested that after Bard had killed Smaug, he’d gained the dragon’s immortality, but also that he eventually would turn into a dragon.

I think about that almost twice a day.

Here’s a few things I would like to add:

Also, before we begin, I would just like to point out on how i Headcanon it all works.

So it’s commonly called the dragon curse, which is not to be confused with dragon sickness. 

The dragon curse originated from a spellcaster who cast it over an entire village, making them gradually turning into different types and breeds of dragons. Now, you may wonder why the spellcaster did this? Well, it’s sorta like in Beauty and the Beast, where the whole village where just being greedy assholes and the spellcaster just went “Fuck you guys”.

This is also where dragons come from, as the spellcaster only wanted to turn them into greedy monsters and boom, flying reptiles.

There’s two ways for a dragon to be created. Either it’s bred, solely for the purpose of more dragons, or a non-dragon simply killing a dragon. 

The dragon slayer will then eventually turn into the type of dragon they had killed, like if you would kill a water dragon (Sometimes also known as a sea monster), then you would turn into one, or if you would kill a spike dragon, then you would turn into the tiny monstrosity.

The only way to actually kill a person that has the dragon curse, is for the cursed person to kill themselves (A black arrow works fine too, but those are quite rare nowadays).

There was once a man that had gotten the dragon curse, and then went on a rampage finding and killing as many dragons he could, before eventually turning into one. This has nothing to do with the curse itself, but it’s just a fun little story for y’all.

Almost every dragon from the original village have died and passed on the curse to someone else at this point, except for a really old Ice Dragon named Moln, that survived by digging himself down inside a mountain, forever isolating himself.

You caught up? Good, let’s get back to Barduil

It takes a few centuries before Bard starts showing signs of the curse. It’s a few scales here, small horns there, his shoulder blades starts to bulge out a bit and his nails sharpen.

It’s more of his behavior that changes.

He starts to snap at people that annoy him, pocket random shiny stuff he sees, starts to respond in growls or hisses from time to time, and sometimes he locks himself in his and Thranduil’s room for days just to sulk to himself.

Thran doesn’t think too much of it at the start, because maybe Bard is just in a bad mood? Or maybe he just wants some time to himself? That’s perfectly normal, Thranduil has done it himself sometimes.

It is first when Bard nearly faints out of pain, and Thran has to take him to a healer that explains that something scaly has started to grow out of Bard’s back, that Thran realizes that it’s almost time.

But he also thinks that nah, they probably have another century at least.

A few more decades go by, maybe like four, and Bard has changed a whole lot. The scaly bulges on his shoulder blades had started to grow a lot more and he could almost spread his new wings out, his entire back had been covered in dark scales and his pupils had started to get thinner. Still, he wasn’t fully dragon and despite all of this he still had Thranduil. Plus, this all made for some amazing sex (I’m sorry).

It was first when the two had been out in the forest one day for just a simple stroll that the real major change happened. The two had been attacked by something, maybe like a spider or something, and Bard had gone into full feral mode.

He’d ripped whatever creature it was into pieces with his own claws and now sharp teeth, blood covering his hands and mouth and his eyes almost insane looking. 

Thranduil had been terrified, more for what happened to Bard than for himself, until Bard and his eyes met.

Thran had fallen back against a tree, not wanting to run away from his husband but still a bit scared as Bard slowly stalked towards him, his mouth turned into a snarl.

Thran had expected Bard to rip his throat out, to kill and devour him like he’d done to that creature, so he was a bit surprised when Bard simply burrowed his nose in the crook of Thranduil’s neck, breathing in his scent and moaning softly, wrapping his arms around Thranduil’s waist. Thran was confused, but he carefully hugged him back, Bard holding him close.

Thran realized after maybe an hour or so after trying to make him calm down and Bard scrambling to his feet to attack whenever an animal was near (With Thran having to pull him back down), that the dragon part of Bard had showed itself and he now went on instincts and instincts alone, his only goal to protect his treasure. 

It took a few hours for Bard to return to his more human form, and after Thranduil had told him what happened and Bard being slightly embarassed over it, they both realized what must be done.

And it pained them both.

Prompt created by @lunaishtari, and I thank them for that because despite the angst, I sorta love this idea.

AU Masterpost

[elenscaie]

Vignette: Damian Wayne & Jason Todd

I blame @elloryia. Both for the inspiration and the encouragement. However, quite frankly, I’m being wary; just entering into this fandom proper means something is (most-likely) going to mess up. I know for a fact I’ll muck up something pertaining to canon, so feel free to correct me. Still, I won’t get nowhere if I don’t try, and so here I go. I hope it’s enjoyable.

***

Damian sits back straight and tall—as tall as any ten-year-old boy can be without the advent of a growth spurt—regal against the ebony wood, head held high, frown pulling at his features the most miniscule bit. His teeth aren't gritted, not yet, but the way Todd is going, he's well on his way towards such.

"I can't fathom why Father would even abide by this for one minute; you've clearly never done this to another, and I don't want to know how you managed this for yourself."

A hard-sharp bark of laughter is his only response. Tiny pinpricks of pain lace up his scalp and scrape a hiss out of him when the comb turns, twists, trapping him in the most childish tug-of-war when he snaps his neck forward to set his skull straight.

“You think this is bad? Try being born and bred in the Narrows, brat—you’d be lucky to get a damn fingerbone to use for your hair.”

The comment settles sharply between Damian’s ribs; he curses himself for the flippancy and the flagrant ignorance and for whatever remaining faults he can find in the words he just uttered. It gets him to shift and swivel in his seat—plush velvet black—eyes cut to slits, lips set in a stern line. On most children, it would have all the effect of a boy playing at being a man.

Damian isn’t a boy, however. He was born and bred, too, in the heart of shadows and subterfuge and swords and secrecy. Cradled in the blue-black night all the better to shield himself from the dominion of death if and when he strayed from the rules. Brought up to keep his hackles raised and suspicions sharp at words so sweetly spoken they might harbor poisonous barbs near their centers.

Damian Al Ghul understood all too well the power of lies and personas, power plays and personal agendas and playing at defeat when, in truth, your enemy would find themselves struggling beneath the weight of your victories just as their guard slackened the slightest bit.

Damian Wayne understood all that and more. For all he was pared down to something harboring less lethality and more mercy, he was no tamer for it, his nature softened barely.

So when the words tumble like little drifts of ash from Todd’s lips, Damian turns around in his seat and says, confidence absolute, expression flinty, tone brooking no arguement: “The Narrows amount to nothing but your past. You’ll not shame what it means to be a Wayne by speaking as if you’re still in that festering cesspool.” A delicate sniff of displeasure. ”I daresay even Grayson would be embarassed on your behalf if he caught you speaking thusly.”

lt almost distracts from the line riding rigid at his spine and shoulders—he isn’t soft, he isn’t going soft, he merely speaks the truth.

The truth itself being rarely pure and never simple.

But, Damian admits, sometimes there are exceptions.

Exceptions he will not be expanding upon. He can’t afford to. His fellow brothers vigilantes are perfectly capable of cultivating the masks they wear, whether it be to prepare for public speculation or for such things privy to family their group or for nobody’s business save their very own.

Words so carelessly spoken will scarcely leave a mark, much less the bruise Damian nearly flagellated himself oh-so-very neatly over.

Bottom line? Damian has little reason to be soft. This was just a fluke. Nothing more.

Streaming through air, weaving itself inside the wavering hair-thin tension balancing Damian’s shoulders on a knifepoint edge, Todd’s voice falls through a chain of notes betraying cool amusement hidden not at all. “So what you’re getting at is that we’re both the superior model. Thanks, brat, figured you were about to declare Golden Boy our supreme leader.” Fingers felt as sculpted thick through with calluses wind down through his thick mop of night-sky curls and Damian is ill at ease with the notion of leaning into the touch. They ruffle and muss and run all roughshod, for all the damage done. His curls are already a minefield of filth and muck.

“Nice to know you’re on my side.”

That gets him to huff; he abstains from a massive eyeroll and snaps out impatiently, “Some of us have to have enough sense to recognize when Grayson errs.” Laying flat one palm upon his cotton-clad thigh, the fabric so luxurious it may well be silk, he tugs on the hand gripping the comb and instructs, “You’ve picked out a majority of the leaves and most of the dirt I washed out already—just have some sense yourself, Todd, and go slow.”

Calm smooths over him. It settles like the lines of relief easing out from his scalp as the comb gentles through his curls and the rustle and crackle of leaves displaced and disturbed fills the room.

“You know, I never would have figured you for ticklish. So, superior model mutuality or not, you can bet the next time we go up against Ivy, I’m bringing my phone.” The chuckle that paints the air is absolutely brimful with teasing mockery. “Or just nick one of B’s Batcams.”

“For the final time, the vine’s flowers were simply sharp, hence how fiercely I was fighting them off—to break free before they did too much damage. No Robin would sully himself by being ticklish.” Exasperation sets him to folding his arms across his chest and upturning his face and neck to cut down the entirely inappropriate laughter, restrained wrath gleaming off the flats of his eyes. “I won’t humor any more of your misconceptions, petty as they always prove to be.”

That merely earns him another bout of ruffling and mussing, and loathe as he is to admit it, even to himself if no one else, the calluses so characteristic of Todd’s hands tune his tension out, render his shoulders softened, his spine slithering in a relaxed curve. The familiarity grounds him to the present and to this moment in time in particular.

His eyes slide shut as Todd’s voice, dry and fond, floats back into being.

“Yeah, brat, whatever keeps your prim primadonna head in check. Just don’t let me hear you saying I didn’t give you a heads up.”

An answering smirk just shy of a challenge, fangs sheathed but for the barest glimmer of brilliant white. “You wouldn’t come close to victory, Todd. I never lose.”

[meg-noel-art]

003 character - adora

DUDE, dude, yes.

A D O R A

I could talk about her forever lesgo:

1.) How I feel about this character:

I have never found Adora anything less than a fascinating and complex protagonist. She's got all the characteristics of a classic hero archetype: she's brave, kind hearted, strong, selfless.... But she's also unbearably human. She makes a lot of mistakes. She's afraid of her responsibilities and her 'destiny', she's stubborn and sometimes extremely narrow minded (her way or the high way kind of situation), she's insecure and has a guilt complex the size of the planet itself.

And what's great about that is that all of those flaws stem from her background as a child soldier. It's all surprisingly gritty and real for the protagonist of cartoon.

Her misguided motivations always make sense, they align with the character we've come to know and love for all of her complexities. She's a great role model in some ways, and in others, she's an example of behaviors to avoid. MORE CHARACTERS LIKE THIS PLEASE. More heroes with just as many flaws as the rest of us. Adora's easy to relate to in that sense because we all have issues too. And when the protagonist of your show, is as broken as your audience, it makes the entire world of Etheria seem that much more personal.

I love her.

2.) Any/all people I ship romantically with this character:

If you know me at all, you know I ship Adora pretty exclusively with Glimmer. But I also see merits to some of her other ships. I like the fact that Adora unabashedly crushes on giant burly lesbians. Like, amazing 10/10 writing. Same hat.

Anyway, I'm going to use this opportunity to go off on Glimmadora:

I love this ship. And sure, for all the normal reasons, it's cute, it's wholesome, it's soft. But I like it for a lot more than that. I sincerely think it's an excellent dynamic. The two start out as staunch enemies. But not personal ones. They've never wronged one another. They've never even met. They were simply born and bred to hate/fight one another. Glimmer is a princess, the very thing Adora has been trained from childhood to destroy. And Adora is a key cog in the Horde machine that took her father away from her, strained her relationship with her mother, and essentialy structured her ENTIRE life. She was born into a war, and has never known anything else. Neither has Adora.

And yet, within hours of meeting each other, when they are at first hostile, they are then forced to work together and quickly come to realize that there entire lives have been built on propoganda, essentially. Yes the Horde is evil. But this is just a girl who was drafted into an army, who has never seen the outside world until today, who doesn't know what her own birthday means. And this other girl is a Princess, sure... But she's not a monster. She's not burning villages or murdering Horde soldiers? Upon putting aside their differences, Glimmer and Adora accept one another for who they are as individuals and that only grows throughout the seasons. There's never a moment where Glimmer ever acts as anything but supportive towards Adora and her various insecurities for the first 3 seasons. And likewise, Adora depends on Glimmer's support and comfort and it bolsters her as both a person and in her role as She Ra.

More than that, they are both the person the other needs, in a sense. Adora needs a person who isn't afraid to challenge her own stubbornness and her sometimes single mindedness. She needs someone who gently supports her through the rough times, but who also pushes her to be better when she feels hopeless. Glimmer does all this for her and more, just by being herself. It's a wholesome, fluffy ship, sure. But it also makes sense and portrays what a sincerely healthy relationship looks like in media and that's SO GOOD. They have their drama, and their arguments, anyone in any kind of relationship does. But it all stems from a desire to protect and care for the other and I'm going on for far too long, moving on--

3.) My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character:

Scorpia!!! She and Adora are at odds from the get go because of their contrasting relationships with Catra. But they're really fairly similar and I think eventually they'll be good friends. They're both very kind hearted and brave and forgiving. I can imagine Adora really giving up on herself and Scorpia being there to tell her how great and strong she is like she always did for Catra. They'd also have 'strength-offs' or sparring sessions and it'd be super cute. Be friends pls ;-; season 5 pls...

4.) Unpopular opinion about this character:

Um.... I mean it's ship related, but I think Catradora is detrimental to Adora's character and development as a whole? It detracts from all of her growth as a character thus far as well as her escape from an abusive home environment. But that's a whole other post I could make, so I'll leave it there.

5.) One thing I wish would happen to this character in canon?

I think we all want this, but I want Adora to S N A P. I want her to break emotionally and let all that grief and rage and guilt fuel her for a bit. We've seen glimpes of it. But I want her to get a moment to FEEL everything she obviously stuffs down for the sake of being She Ra, everyone's hero and hope. I want her to just be Adora and to break down to her lowest point so that she can finally start to heal. I think season 5 has set it up perfectly and now it just needs to knock the pins down. And I can't wait to watch 👀

6.) Favorite friendship for this character?

BOW! Bow is a great friend in general, but he is EXCEPTIONALLY patient with Adora and really listens to her. I STILL remember the moment in Mystacor during season 1 when he listens when Adora says she used to punch things in the Horde instead of relaxing. When the hot springs don't work, his next suggestion is that they find her something to hit! He is a good boy ;-; and a gentle friend and I wish season 4 had given them more conversations. They had plenty of time together but they didn't actually interact or talk much, which is weird. Bow is the guy I can see Adora goes to when she has questions that embarass her about Etheria, or relationships, or big scary topics. Because he'd approach them calmly and wouldn't talk down to her.

I also really wish Adora and Mermista interacted more because their opposing attitudes contrast so hysterically.

7.) My crossover ship:

HMmMMmm interesting..... I'd probably go with Kara Danvers!! Supergirl. Both are essentially aliens to their planet, adopted by families that teach them how to BE a hero in both their personal and "professional" lives. They are both lovably dumb with hearts of gold that just want to do the right thing but fear they can't. They'd have a lot in common. Also both strong and blonde and blue eyed and I -- 👀👀

That's it!!! Thank you for letting me scream about Adora ❤❤🥺