#that's how you get feathers embedded in your finger

[sorrygotthesesacks]

*deep sigh*

I am girding my loins to deal with what must be dealt with. I have procrastinated too long already.

("Girding one's loins" is an interesting expression and I sincerely hope I didn't get it wrong because I do sometimes muck up idioms.)

[mtcloudsworld]

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, fem!reader, vigilante!reader (I thought of her as a witch, revealing Jason's deepest darkest desires while putting a little twist of her own...if that makes sense lol idk), Jason Todd, cowgirl, pet names: baby, edited but in case of any errors, ignore it, ty. Enjoy lovebugs! 🦠🩷

Call it lust, call it a driven quench of thirst, ecstacy, fucking, lust but secretly and begrudgingly, you had him wrapped around your finger.

Y'all were breathless and lightheaded but somehow weren't done. He can't lie he loved fucking the living shit out of you. It made him feel alive. Having your nails embedded in his skin, marks along his back and lipstick stains left on his collar and neck. Sounds of your raunchy mouth sends his mind to a frenzy.

His tongue slithers past your swollen lips to collide against your own. The kiss deepens and turns feverish with a mixture of loathe and lust. Mean, large calloused hands kneaded at the fat of your ass as he presses you completely against him. Your moans were nothing of the sort, they kept him in a trance.

Bewitching and taunting to the point he loses control, he finds himself cursing at his own vulnerability. Hating that he was allowing you to say things that were out of the ordinary, casting a spell of addiction and hunger over him seemed bizarre to hear but it was true. You had him hooked, driven to craving your touch-- craving every sense of you till it drove him mad.

"Does it feel good baby?" You're voice was as delicate as a feather, it was light with an erotic twist. You gave him a deep whine of your hips, rolling deliciously slow so he could feel every inch of you puckering around him. "Am I making you feel better?" It was so hard to tune you out when your whimpering moans echoed within his office. "I am, aren't I?" A giggle, "I can see it all in your eyes that you like it just as much as I do. No need in hiding it. You can tell me, I promise I won't tell a soul." You coo'd sweetly.

He feels your fingers run through his hair, comforting and persuading, they curl at the strands, giving a strain at the root of his scalp. As you tug at his hair, he grunts, thrusting his hips to meet you halfway. Pressing his pink mushroom tip into your soft cervix, he acknowledges the way you gasp, whimpering to the blissful rapture of his deep strokes. Eyes half lidded, you notice the swirl of his blue irises turn dark. The feeling of your pussy lips puckering and clenching around his throbbing dick, makes a deep guttural moan emit out of him. "s-shit!"

"Mhmm, there you go, baby," she chimes with a smirk. Pressing his forehead against yours, you hear those pathetic little whimpers and groans from his lips. Planting kisses at the corner of his lips, he locks eyes with you watching how your face twisted in delight. As he crumbles in your care, he feels himself getting closer and closer towards the edge. Gradually gaining the confidence to glance up your anatomy to your fucked out face, he watches how you begin to bounce relentlessly on his dick. "Holy fuck!-- Ugggh, yes, just like that, yes baby, yes!" Listening to the repetitive smacking of skin and squelching of your pussy juices beginning to pool and soak around his thighs and stain the black leather chair.

"Oh my god...oh my god...im cumming, I'm cumming, baby, I'm cumming!" With your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into the depths of his flesh, his hands held you right by the waist. Aiding and guiding you to keep going, equally you both leave marks behind once the intense orgasm washes away.

While you continuously feel him puncturing and abusing the inside of your gummy walls-- riding out the high, it leaves you breathless and crashing out on his chest, listening to the beautiful sound of his beating heart.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[eldritch-spouse]

How would sleeping with the TCE members go? Like who’s down for tangled under the blankets cuddles or what horrible mishaps are gonna happen if I want a sleep over? I imagine sleeping with Gallon would be like waking up half embedded in slime or with him practically melted into the bed. Krulu would either be like being bundled up in his arms the whole night or he sleeps like a vampire with his arms folded laying face up lol. I don’t think Frank-E sleeps really so maybe he just plays like “3 hour white noise” sounds while he watches you sleep. You’ve mentioned a few times that Patches would get handsy but somehow I feel like he’s clingy as hell in his sleep much to his embarrassment (if the undead even sleep?)

Most of them don't sleep as much as humans do.

Gallon doesn't like to sleep in actual beds. He had one, in the little apartment he calls his own, but it's for the comfort of any guests, usually. Slimes have different beds, which are usually just modified tubs really. Meant to be able to safely contain them and also be mixed with water. He would try to lull you sleeping with him this way. You won't get wet, he'll encase you and leave open room for your face, all you'll feel is the slight sway of warm water.

Morell has a fucking obnoxious hold of you. While you're lucky he doesn't just turn and crush you, his arms are always either clutching you to him or holding onto something of yours. It's hard to break that hold, harder still when his only response to movement is to tighten that grasp. He sleeps with an amount of tension in his body that feels unnatural.

While Grimbly will spend some time napping with you in bed, worming himself into the little spoon and feeling you cover his body with yours, he's guaranteed to eventually weasel out and take it to the ceiling, or the rail he's gotten placed over the bed. So you might wake up panicked because he's not beside you, making enough noise to alert the bat, and screaming when two magenta orbs peek at you from above.

Santi might grab onto places he's not supposed to, but he's not a sleep-humper, funnily enough. You just might wake up with him breathing softly, clearly asleep, but his right hand has curled under you to stick you to him by the genitals. Sometimes his teeth can feather over your skin, but not often, as the horns force him to sleep with his head facing up. He likes to fall asleep with your weight on top of him. Does his cock stir? Maybe, but it's also just purely comfortable.

Patches will take the time to fondle you briefly, if you haven't let him touch you yet. But so would many others in this list. He needs extremely little rest, so most of the time he's not even sleeping beside you. Probably either trying to keep Stitches at bay or just watching you. He might set his head down nearby to make it easier to cuddle. A lot of his time is spent feathering over your warm skin and skating his fingers through your curves. Drawn to the warmth of life, you could wake up with him glued to you, occasionally.

Vinnel tends to starfish. He too would prefer to sleep in a slime bed, but he can't, so he usually just finds very bizarre sleeping positions that hit the spot that particular night. Sometimes he'll slap you with his limbs, other times he just rolls around the bed and you wake up with him upside down clinging to your legs. Don't nudge him too much, he'll probably react with his own slumbering shoves. Although sometimes unpleasant to sleep with, his tail does often find itself around your own limbs.

Nebul isn't much of a "rest in the same bed" type. In fact, he usually only rests in an armchair. But to humor a good pet's request, he might. He can stand very still and be very quiet, so that's good at least. You're held firmly but not oppressively like Morell. He prefers to have you rest your head on his chest. Like Patches, the wraith isn't actually sleeping for 90% of the time.

Belo will insist to stand watch over you, but can be made to relent. He prefers to sit up on the bed and have you in his grasp, shielded by a protective cocoon made of his wings. Although he can eventually doze off, one of his eyes periodically opens to take unconscious stock of his surroundings. You're the one that's likely to grope here, as angels are very soft and cozy, Belo guiltily enjoys the way you squeeze and pet him in certain stages of your sleep cycle.

Sybastian would frankly prefer to have you sleep in his mouth. He promises he won't bite you to pieces or swallow you, otherwise the mimiclings wouldn't trust him either. But he can also just be the bed, which is a favored alternative. While Syb doesn't shift much, he does often form his hands and use them to trap you to the bed in a gangly but familiar hold. This becomes a problem when you want to leave in the morning.

Fank-e is a terrible alternative to cuddle against, which is why he'll wrap you in a blanket burrito before any sort of contact. He's learned he leaves harsh imprints on human skin. While he can and will play any sound you like, he'll take the opportunity to also recharge at some point. His grip is calibrated to not be broken by human force, but to instead jolt him "awake" if it senses too much pressure.

Krulu is weirdly fascinating in the sense that he doesn't just lay down to sleep. He can sleep standing, or crouched to the ground. When he does demand your presence, the siadar will cover you in his six arms and usually hold you to his chest. Sometimes his neck. It sounds like it might feel uncomfortable, but as soon as sleep takes him, it'll take you too. He doesn't sleep all that often, so most of the time, this doesn't really happen at all, and he decides when you need to sleep instead.

[idyllwave]

Showers Aren't Helping (or maybe they are?)

Sunday x Fem!Reader

Warnings | mdni, shower sex, p in v, afab reader, grammatical errors, reader referred to as "y/n", you both call each other "sweet angel", etc.

For @yaexcz <3 sorry, you requested this quite awhile ago, but I'm just now getting to it heh.

"Feels good?"

Sunday was always a man (halovian) who was always well presented. His clothes never wrinkled. His easy smile and mask never wavered. He always had the upper hand.

"Mmm, yes."

But in the secluded moments he shared with you, he always let his guard down, and showering together was one of those times.

Your naked body was gently pressed up against his chest. Your breasts, pushed up against him as your fingers, lathered in soap, smoothed over his wings.

(I imagine that the piercings in his wings work like ear piercings, so I think he would take them off when he showers, right? Anyway-)

Your fingers worked delicately into his feathers, smoothing them over and making sure that they were clean while also not tugging on them or accidentally ripping any feathers out. You were always the caring type. You would never forgive yourself if you hurt Sunday, even if it was on accident.

"I'm not pulling on them too rough, am i?"

Your voice was soft as you leant into him more, the water soaking your back as he held you close to him.

"Y- you're doing so well."

Sunday doesn't stutter, but work him just right and then you could get him to sing any tune you want.

"Am I?"

You stopped your ministrations on his wings as you let your hands tangle into his disheveled, soaked hair. Your body leaning up on your tippy toes as your wet sex sliding against his hardening shaft.

"Y- you," his lips trembled as you pulled him closer, your lips chasing for his own as you captured him into a kiss. The shower steam covered you both as the water hugged you tightly making it easier for you both to slowly grind against each other.

A fiery heat erupted below you, you could feel it course through you as Sunday's bulbous tip would catch against your aching folds.

"S- Sunday," your moan was breathy, wanton, and full of yearning as you held him impossibly closer.

Outside of your privacy and secluded moments, Sunday always seemed so far away. So distance and calculating. You always felt like you couldn't touch him or reach him when everyone's prying eyes were trying to pick Sunday and you apart.

But here and now? You didn't have to worry. You could hold him, caress him, and love him without a care in the world. No prying eyes were here of all places. No cameras. No Family. No IPC trying to wring Sunday for an unfair deal.

It was just you. And just him.

"More- more please ah, y/n."

You obliged as you lofted one of your legs, your hands leaving his hair a mess as you instead grabbed onto his shoulders, "hold me close."

He held you, his arms coming to wrap around your waist as he helped you hook your lifted leg around his hip. The action made you both moan as his slicked up cock embedded itself into your tight hole. Your walls clenched around him at the sudden intrusion, but there wasn't an discomfort as you felt yourself mold to his throbbing, hot length.

"You, hah, are too good for me, sweet angel."

You moved one of your hands from his shoulders, your fingers lightly caressing his cheek as the water pelted you both.

"If anyone is a sweet angel, it's you, Sunday."

At your words, you could feel how he gripped your waist. His hips picking a slow and steady pace as he rutted into you, "throwing my words back at me?"

"Never, just telling the truth."

You tried to steady your words, but it was hard with hie Sunday was reaching so deep within you. Your focus was slipping.

You could feel his grin when he captured your lips. Hot, wet, dominating. Even if you were in control before, that wasn't the case now even as he picked up the pace and moved to hold you up against the tile wall. The cool tile being a stark contrast to the hot water and Sunday's scorching touch.

"Mmm, Ah! There, Sunday!"

You felt him hit a certain spot inside you that had you seeing stars. Your walls clamped around him instantly when he hit again. He grunted the moment he felt you tighten up. His breath coming out jagged as his wings fluttered and strained.

"Sun- Sun, Sunday, I'm- I'm-"

"I know, sweet angel, hah, me too. Come with me."

It was more of a command then a request. And when you felt his movements get sloppier and how his hands came to grip your upper back as he seemed to hold onto you for dear life, you finally let yourself go. Your walls seizing against him as you wouldn't let him pull out, and feeling him gush and spurt inside you made you see a starburst of stars dancing across your vision.

You whined loudly as you chased that high, your hips pressing harshly into his as you wanted him deeper and deeper.

"You- you're too good to me," Sunday all bit whispered as he stayed within you, even as you started to relax and go limo against him.

You hummed lightly at that, your hands coming up to softly run your fingers through his hair as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck.

"I'll only ever be good to you, my sweet angel."

[forthesamereasonibreathe]

your sacred task

the shape of a collarbone, unfolded into iridescence

acorns ruffling into a sound of home, all of my memories embedded

into the geometries coming together and apart, coming together and apart,

memories, associations, phenomenologies exploded across the living room of time.

I saw the world that is coming and she’s the color of peacock feathers, the center

of a fire opal, unfolding without beginning or end

boiling just under the surface

              I saw the world that is coming and she told me

              not everybody gets to individuate, how funny

              to think that you might smoke a cigarette later

              a cigarette! You! A mouth! How funny!

the point where the vastness of the sea and the vastness of the sky meet in the flash of fire

under the feathers of a bird, each tiny point of contact swimming up to meet

this mouth, these lips, how precious to be here with you where the sea meets the sky

this mouth, these hands, many mouths, many hands, reaching into the same water

and drawing out the same blue and gold and writhing

to carry out the same command she inscribes in your gut: remake

remake for me, remake into me, remake in blue and gold and writhing

and widen the aperture of the fire in your flesh to open the way for me.

              Absurd, the particularities of the body,

              The way it squats and drips and flutters. Is this right?

              Is this what it does? Do I animate it? Are these fingers

              In a mouth? Are these eyes that hear?

The wind strokes the dunes down. The light. The unfolding.

the only choice to make is whether or not to be afraid.

[allycryz]

FFXIV Write #12: Quarry

Rated E for eggsplicit

Hades x Nerys, Sharlayan quest chain during Endwalker

A bet, a chase, an interlude

or

Nerys and Hades play sexy hide and seek

She’d equipped herself with botany tools but not anything to mine with–and here she was, sure there was something worth prizing out of this cavern wall.

Nerys peered forward, bracing her hands against the sides of the nook and inspecting the shine of green and purple embedded. Her weapons she could stow into enchanted stones and crystals, why hadn’t she done so with the pickaxe and hammer–and for that matter, the hatchet and scythe she kept on her pack and the myriad other tools she used?

“Careful,” a voice murmured close to the back of her neck, hot breath against her ear. “Quite a compromising position you’ve put yourself in, hero.”

Relief filled her lungs–and not just because he could solve her problem. This was the first hint of teasing she’d heard in Hades’ voice in days. Understandably so, given the horror he was forced to relive with the Final Days at their heels–and no less concerning even knowing why. 

She turned in his arms, her lips grazing his own. ”Perfect timing, could you do me a favor?”

He lifted an eyebrow as his hands found her waist. “Oh?”

“I don’t suppose you could materialize a pickaxe?”

Hades’ sigh feathered over her lips. In the cavern's dim light, his eyes were the brightest thing about him. “How I've fallen--that my capturing you so elicits only packmule requests.”

Nerys laughed, her mouth brushing over his cheekbone. “I’m certainly not complaining about you holding me.”

“Mm.” His gaze flicked away to where their party had already descended–traveling down the mineshaft as the handsome gleaner Erenville had advised. Back to her. “I have a counteroffer.”

“I'm listening.”

“if you make it out of here uncaught…” his lips brushed her ear. “I'll provide all manner of tools and equipment for your foraging.”

Nerys pulled back and his hands gave way, allowing it. She looked around. “Have we been found out by the Forum already?”

Hades chuckled. “No, you've only one thing to fear currently. I'll turn and count to fifteen. That seems fair, given your natural speed and skill.” 

“Hades…” She ignored the pulse low in her belly.  “we haven't the time and we shouldn't dawdle-”

“Then don't get caught.” he shrugged and turned from her, laying a hand over his eyes. “One…Two…”

Nerys moved. What else could she do? She simply had to get out and fast, and she was the Azure Dragoon. A few jumps and accepting the risk of tumbles that came with leaping into dark unknowns…hardly a challenge. 

And he's having fun. Or at least, putting on the airs of a man enjoying himself. Last night he'd said little over their repast or when they went to bed. Gentle kisses between him and her, and Y'shtola, and Urianger. His gaze in a world beyond the four of them as they bedded down in the Baldesion Annex. 

“Eleven!” he sang out as her feet slowed. A moderate incline before her, two passageways on either side that certainly did not go to the level below. 

She turned left and bounded, long leaps that covered a lot of ground. Another nexus, she chose the darker one and vowed to check the other later with its tinges of soft glow. Samples of something must await her. 

The dark did not bother her, nor the narrowness of the tunnels she chose. This was the type of place she had grown up in. For all Hades’ powers, she had some advantage. 

She found a place where light no longer reach and even her vision struggled between shades of sable and charcoal. Nerys touched her finger to her tongue and lifted it–the wind answered gently, barely there. Each step was a searching one till she came across something. A wall. Her palms slid over it, seeking the way forward. 

Nerys found the opening and measured it hand by hand. Big enough to squeeze through. She had chosen a gown over the drachen mail, presenting herself as ambassadorial and proper as the city dictated. The lavender hems were already dirtied from assisting Erenville with the creatures, and now this would tear it further no doubt. (Hopefully she could take a look later and determine salvagability.)

She lowered herself onto hands and knees and proceeded feet first. Fabric rolled under her, something tore. She swore and continued into a widening, widening passage. Without the spikes on her armor, she fit easily into what she realised was a small room.

She pressed her back to a wall and sighed. As good a hiding place as any, when your partner could materialize at will and see the color of your soul. Truly a rigged game from the start.

Nerys smiled. 

And waited.

It wouldn’t be any fun if he just appeared before her. They both knew that. She listened for the scrape of a footstep, a jaunty tune whistled and set echoing through the caverns. A voice calling out for her.

She waited. And waited more.

He isn’t lost. There was no chance of it. And he had been the one to initiate this game–had something happened?

Nerys waited more. Shifted from one foot to the other. Tried to make out shapes in the darkness. Maybe he had run into something in the mineshaft and it needed more effort than usual. Some of the wildlife, Alphinaud had cautioned, were ranked extremely dangerous. If they were in the wild, you’d be sure the different Hunter’s Guilds would have bounties for them. 

Hades was more than capable of handling such creatures. But if they were especially irritating…

She stepped away from the wall to find the passage she’d entered through–and found herself back against it, spine scraping rocks, hands fixed on her wrists. Only the cool, familiar presence of his magic kept her from attacking.

Hades tsked. “It seems patience is not one of your virtues, hero.”

Nerys shook her head. “I wondered if something delayed you-”

“Very few things could delay me.” She could not see well enough to call his movements graceful but experience told her the way he slid both wrists to one hand while the other slid down her chest was the definition of elegance. He squeezed, setting the heat in her alight once more. “Not from this.”

His thigh invaded itself between her legs and an open mouth pressed hungry to her throat. Nerys felt her body growing limp, the soft sound of pleasure escaping her lips. Hades’ chuckle only made her feel the want more keenly.

“Yes?” He purred, teeth scraping along her shoulder blade. The fondling hand slipped down and pushed aside her skirts, and she felt his sigh when it took a few seconds to work through the layers. “Have something to say?”

“Seems you do,” she said, her voice soft, breathy. “Don’t you like my outfit?”

“Right now,” he said, at last finding the hose beneath and working at their tie. “It is not a question of like or dislike–I have no desire for obstacles right now.”

“And I’m the impatient one-”

His lips covered hers, drinking her in as much as shushing her. The length of his body pressed against her; his hips pressed against her own. Any doubt she could have possibly had about his arousal–and she’d had little–erased from the feel of his length hard against her. It seemed the time for talk was over because his clever fingers slipped beneath her smalls and his mouth possessed hers without reprieve.

With no sight his touch made her entire body shiver. Like an exposed nerve brushed over. The sound of his quick breathing echoed around them, her answering little moans loud in her ears. Each brush of his hand sent her body into shudders. 

She felt his grin against her skin even as his touches grew more desperate. There were times–more than half the time really–he would tease her and their partners for near a bell or more. Not now. She heard the slide of his belt and the unclasp of his trousers. The feel of his head rubbing against her was a shock of warmth and she had a moment to gasp before he sank home. 

“You…” Nerys clung to him while she attempted words. “You’re eager…”

“To the victor go the spoils,” he murmured before capturing her mouth again. A dark current threaded under Hades’ voice. His hand seized the meat of her thigh, nails pressing into her skin as he made her accommodate him. 

The building pressure was delicious, made even moreso by his breath in her ear. Hades hit something deep in her and when she sobbed, he chased it until all she could do was make the sound again and again. When her eyes slid shut against the mounting feeling, it only intensified the sensation. 

“Open your eyes,” he told her.

“I can’t see a-fuck, there, right there, fuck-a thing.”

“But I can.” His forehead pressed to hers. “I want to see the look when you surrender.”

Nerys opened her eyes. His shape was indistinguishable from the shadows and it felt like the very darkness had caught her. Her lips parted to say not to worry about her, to chase his own pleasure. Again he stopped her mouth with his as his clever fingers brushed over her at the place they joined. 

When she cried aloud, she thought she saw the gleam of his eyes. 

Little by little he helped her set down legs she hadn’t realised were wrapped tight around him. Gentle fingers traced down her arms, her sides. Lips traced her brow. “That was…quite invigorating. Thank you, my dear.”

She found his cheeks in the darkness and kissed them, one and then the other. Kissed his forehead, the bridge of his nose, at last his mouth. "Any time."

[valentiandivineaccord]

I have a secret to show you, so please don't tell anyone. They'll probably exile me- or worse- if you do.

As it were, your friend's forearms have eyes on them. Several, and there isn't skin to be seen. They're embedded in a thin carapace. This was only one of the things you learned about them that day.

Something is stealing your bait. The bait isn't very notable, either, and most fish tend to let go before you can reel them in. Today, though, they have consistently disappeared, no matter what you do, and the culprit is nowhere to be seen.

Is the painting looking at you? It's supposed to do that, that's how it was painted. But those eyes never move. It feels like they do, but they really do not. It's just that particular painting that seems to watch your every move. If it really is, maybe it just wants to say hello...

You stepped on something in the snow, which quickly slipped from under your boot. Was that a squeak? The snow trembles, and parts, giving form to the sleeping fellow you accidentally disturbed. It accepts your brief apology with a squeal, before it trudges off, further into the thick haze.

Rumors spoke of an abandoned sword lodged into the side of a boulder. The rock itself had quite an odd shape, almost like it was deliberately carved. As for the blade, it had an aged design, a ribbon wrapped at the base of its hilt, and an intriguing aura. Scholars could never agree with just what this blade was, how it got there, and more. You have a ridiculous thought, and you eventually head over to investigate it for yourself, this esteemed blade. Nightfall is cool, the echoes of warmth still hanging in the air. You decide to greet it kindly, to which it responds by asking you to please get it dislodged from this old piece of rubble.

That strange merchant you met on your travels insisted this cape would do everything and more. Enchanted with ancient magic, it made snowstorms feel like a sweet summer morning. The fabric was indomitable, and not even the tug of a thousand men would tear it in two. Wearing it, you feel a cozy warmth, more like someone hugging you than any basic spell. It asks you how your day has been, and if you're doing alright.

The pawnbroker was firm when he said this feather held no value. You gave up, the iridescent white still between your fingers as you head to mount your steed. Once you've settled onto its familiar saddle, you head down the road. Map in hand, your destination is back home, this was the last place you could think to check. While your stallion trots, the sun is blocked for a moment. You look skyward, and a glimmering, colorless dragon smiles down at you warmly. You grab another quill before it lands past you.

[a-musing-mixologist]

What a headache. "You're one to talk! You tellin' me you went to Impel Down and all those other places on a holiday?" His lip curls. "Whatever. We all have our reasons. If that traitor Apoo and straw-spined coward Hawkins hadn't sided with Kaido, you can bet I'd be hunting down your ass too instead of rotting in here." If he ever saw either of them again, he would crush them into paste. The memory of that day was seared into his mind, the humiliating defeat at the hands of two fellow Supernovas and an Emperor who had appeared out of the sky.

A garbled series of sounds escape him when he finds the Straw Hat captain suddenly in his lap, grabbing at his cloak while grinning like a moron. After several seconds of indignant sputtering he finally manages a strangled "WHAT THE HELL???"

Kid bolts to his feet, sending the smaller man tumbling. "You lookin' for a fight right now? I'll beat you with one arm!" Balling his fist, he glares down at the other. "You're awful familiar with them aren't ya? Of course they're all still around, not like any member of that crew is gonna go down to anyone but the strongest opponents!" He hadn't been among that number at the time, but he's stronger now. He'll show them. Re-adjusting the feathered garment with a scowl, he leans back against the wall. He can feel the other's determination from here.

"Get in line. I'm the one who's gonna bust out of here and knock Kaido off his throne. He wasn't first on my list, but now I gotta pay him back in spades for what he did to my crew and my partner." Damn it, he didn't even know where any of them were. Not dead, of that he was certain. Kaido wanted all of them under his control, and the bastard enjoyed the process of breaking strong souls. He shoots the other captain a sneer.

"Once I get out and kick his scaly ass, maybe I'll come back here and free yours." He sighs, fingers brushing absently over the wires embedded in his shoulder. "How the hell did they get you, anyway?" He hates to admit it, but it's not exactly comforting that a guy as strong as Straw Hat is sharing his cell. They really were up against gods, weren't they?

"Then you could've asked instead of gettin' all handsy." What could he expect from a guy like that, though? Straw Hat didn't seem to have an ounce of sense. Or boundaries. Maybe the same could be said of himself though, couldn't it, but Luffy took it to the extreme. He seemed like the kind of idiot who would stick his hand in other people's mouths.

"I made my way through the New World by climbing over the bodies of the strongest people I could find." Maybe if he gives in and humors the other, he'll stop yapping. "I hate wasting my time with weaklings. Couldn't find any rivals worth a damn, so I set my sights higher." His eyes grow distant, fingers of his remaining hand clenching. He'd gotten a challenge, all right. "I went to throw down with Red Hair. Didn't get to fight him myself thanks to that damn Beckman." He gives a bitter laugh.

"These were his gifts to me. So maybe they show I failed, but no one else in this world was able to lay a finger on me. So I'll wear these failures proudly, and anyone who thinks they can give me better is welcome to try! I'll get my rematch one day. And I'll win." How is the other still smiling like that? If he's here, then he must have gotten the shit beaten out of him by Kaido's men. He really was a strange one. At that last bit, he arches a brow.

"Your aim so bad you couldn't even stab your own eye out?" Wait, Shanks? This brat knew Red Hair?

[averagewriter-inthedark]

SFW Alphabet—Donny Donowitz | IB headcanon

Link to my IB masterlist

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Affection is Donny’s weakness. Whether it be giving or receiving he is always wanting to touch you in some way. This could be his arm around your shoulders while Aldo is debriefing the squad, your head on his shoulder by the campfire, or light kisses to the forehead before a stressful situation.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Being friends with Donny is basically signing up for chaos. He’s the type who would suggest doing stupid shit and you have to follow in order to ensure he doesn’t kill himself doing it. Laughing to the point of ab cramps is the best way to describe moments with Donny as your bestie.

The friendship started before you two shipped off to France. You were probably the squad’s nurse or high ranking next to him and Aldo that you guys interacted more than with the Basterds. The friendship sorta naturally happened to the point it’s hard to even put a date on when it started.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Physical touch is the mans love language so of course he likes to cuddle. Holding you in his arms with the radio playing while you two doze in and out of sleep is the best feeling in the world. “Doll,” he’ll make grabby hands at you, “c’mere let me hold ya.” He’s the big spoon obviously, but also he likes when he’s laying on his back and you’re curled into his side.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Hell yeah Donny wants to settle down—the literal dream for him is to own a home with you in a nice area where you two get to grow old together. You two would likely run the barber shop or another business and be the couple who give back to the community.

Donny, surprisingly, is a descent cook. Really he specializes in certain dishes that are family recipes. And best believe he can stir up some smacking pasta. You never have to worry about a messy home or kitchen because the Army embedded it into his brain that orderliness and cleanliness is essential…..except on Sundays. That’s y’all’s break day.

E = Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d rather scalp himself than end things with you. If anyone is gonna break hearts, Donny will sacrifice his own to prevent you from experiencing it.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Being a bachelor was honestly what Donny expected he’d be all his life. Yeah he dated and had flings but never did it occur to him he’d want to settle down and build a future with someone. When you came along it was like he had an awakening. Immediately he saw the house with a yard full of animals, kids running around the premises and a ring on his finger. After you two got engaged Donny wasn’t quick to rush a wedding especially since you two had just returned to the states. He wanted to work as much as he could to give you the wedding of your dreams.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Despite being a giant beefy man that he is, Donny is very gentle. His touch is like feathers and always carefully handled as to not hurt you. Anytime you’re sad or distress his approach with you is cautious. Asking questions like, “Do you need to talk or want to be alone?” Whatever you decide he’ll respect even if it means walking away to give you space.

H = Hugs (do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Are you kidding this man lives and breathes for hugs. He gives the best hugs of the Basterd (Wicki coming a close second) so you take any chance you can to hug him. Donny won’t even hesitate when you ask for one or he’ll simply bring you into an embrace he notices you’re under distress.

I = I love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)

Considering he realized he loved you in the middle of a legit war, Donny probably said it quick. And by quick I mean right when it hit him like a truck. You two had been best friends by that point to he was worried to an extent it would crumble before his eyes. But to his utter surprise you said, “Oh, Donny, are you blind? I’ve been waiting for you to say something forever! I love you too, you rascal.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Okay so while he hardly gets jealous when the Basterds or his friends playfully flirt with you, he WILL become a different person when someone he hates tries to swoon you. Of course he’s confident in y’all’s relationship and knows you’d never betray him, he just fucking hates when an asshole attempts to get your attention. “Jealous again, baby?” “NO……maybe.”

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses with Donny are best described as ‘cheeky’. He’ll send you a smirk with eyes reading, ‘Imma kiss you right now,’ before smacking his lips against yours or your cheek before running away. You can’t help but giggle when he does because it’s so adorable and always puts a smile on your face. Your lips and jaw are his favorite places to kiss, however, when he’s feeling frisky Donny will trail his mouth down your neck and collarbones. For him, the Sargent loves to be kissed on the lips as well. He’ll never admit it but Donny is a sucker for when you kiss his chest.

L = Little ones (how are they around children?)

Donny is amazing with children. It’s one of the things you love about him. Even if you two do not plan to have children he loves to spend time with nieces/nephews and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the type to teach the kids in your neighborhood how to play baseball. He’d also offer discount and free haircuts to the children and teens who cannot afford one. If you do have/adopt kids, then expect Donny to be the best father ever. Always attending their school functions and sport games (most likely baseball) and taking your kids to the zoo, museum, Red Sox games, etc. He is their #1 supporter and will do whatever possible to make them happy.

M = Morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

During the war y’all’s mornings started bright and early at the ass crack of dawn. Donny would be the first one up considering he was in charge of getting the Basterds into formation, but he’d make sure to give you a kiss on the head as a good morning before leaving. When there is the rare chance of staying in an inn or motel then he’s all over you with cuddles and waking you up with kisses.

Back home in the states Donny is the type who will put the coffee on the pot as soon as he wakes up to get you a coffee before your eyes open. Then if he has time he’ll run to the cafe by the corner of your street to get your favorite breakfast. “Is that what I think it is?” “Only the best for my baby this fine Sunday morning.”

N = Night (how are nights spent with them?)

I can see Donny as a night owl. Really it was a result of the late nights overseas where he had to keep watch of the camp. The habit carried over when he returned home in which he would stay up listening to the radio or reading a book. You’d have to force him to come to bed—-often making him a warm cup of milk or run a bath. But once his head hit the pillow mans is out like a light and holding you to his chest.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Taglist: @mess-in-side @buckys-pillow @16boyfriends-and-me @pinkybee926 @mahirublue @knockemdeadgirl @prophecyflame @uzumaki-mj @daddyjackfrost @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @thingy-mar @badidea9309 @lex-the-flex @musemaniac42 @howlingc107 thank you guys for liking this mini series that I birthed on a whim. I appreciate it a lot.

Never had your legs hurt as badly as they did while you sprinted full force down the beaten down dirt road that guided you through a curved journey of thick, dense forests and bustling cobblestone street market squares with the dream palace looming above it all, casting it’s large shadow down upon it’s subjects as though ready to engulf them in eternal darkness. Yet despite however scared you might’ve felt it didn’t compare to the determination, the desire to get to Morpheus and set things right that was your soul driving force pushing you through the unpleasant burning within your muscles.

“Slow down!” Mathew cried over the rush of wind beating against his feathers as he flapped his wings as hard as he could before transitioning into a gliding formation in order to catch up, “YOU’LL HURT YOURSELF IF YOUR NOT CARFUL!” You didn’t bother heeding the ravens words as it only pushed you further to continue venturing onwards to the bridge held up by a pair of stone hands that had cracks embedded in them which acted like cracked skin; raising the bridge as though it was a newborn baby. It wasn’t until you were at the point where the dirt path met cobblestone that you were suddenly having cold feet about everything.

You knew Morpheus could be unforgiving when someone indirectly hurt his feelings or exceeded their will upon the throne unjustly, therefore questioning his legitimacy as king of the dreaming. So for you to dare enter the palace once more after so long actively avoiding it must’ve felt like a slap to his face; More so would to be confessing to him and expecting him to reciprocate and forgive your actions without second thought. It was an unlikely and uncharacteristic outcome for someone as brooding and emotionally constipated like Morpheus. It wasn’t unknown knowledge of what the dream lord was like when his emotions are heavily involved; he felt as though he’s been attacked on all fronts, forced back and cornered like an injured animal. He acted as though he doesn’t need them to fulfil his duties but you could tell that wasn’t the full truth.

You caught on quickly during your time together that Morpheus’ emotions -while hidden- were naturally free flowing as his slender fingers brushed through the tresses of Jess’ fur or caressing the petals of an array of wildflowers within the dreaming. The dream lord was naturally caring and once he realised the dangers that could present and the advantages that would give his adversaries against the throne, he stopped. The exception to this would always come in the form of the children of the dreaming as Morpheus could be seen indulging their antics with a small yet missable smile and a glimmer in his eye.

You smiled faintly at a memory of when you had burnt the upper portion of your arm that took the shape of two claw marks. It wasn’t a bad burn but that didn’t mean it wasn’t an annoyance but that wasn’t why you remembered the memory so fondly; the reason was how fast the dark, brooding man acted when hearing your pained gasp and how tenderly but firm his grip was as his thumb grazed just underneath the already blistering skin. “Does it hurt?” He had asked you but just as you were about to lie through your teeth and tell him it was nothing more then a pin prick you saw the look of concern etched into his starry eyes like it was chiselled into them.

“Only a little, nothing I can’t manage.” You responded, unsure if you even believed yourself. “Why do I sense that even you don’t believe that?” He questioned you with a sureness in his eyes that you felt unable to speak as he ushered you to the med bay within the palace to take care of it properly before it could worsen. Morpheus even took it a step further by staying by your side as they did look over your burn and placed the correct ointment across it without applying any pressure that would cause you any sort of discomfort. Though that might’ve been from the fact that they were being started down by the literal lord of dreams and nightmares; That alone would’ve been another to make a grown man scared stiff.

“Y/n? What’s going on, Why’d you stop?” Mathew asked as he perched himself a way aways from you, thankful for the chasing to be done and over with at last. He’s had enough chasing after people obvious to another’s genuine feelings towards them. It was exhausting the poor sentient raven. “Would he still love me?” You asked him, now second guessing if running so hastily for the palace was such a good idea despite it being purely an instinctual thing that required no train of thought. Mathew sighed, wishing he could pinch the brim of his beak but knew his little stupid bird legs could only reach so far and instead decided to shield it with his wing in a impromptu face palm but for birds.

“Break his heart a million times and he’d still fine more reasons to love you unconditionally.” He recited word for word what Morpheus had said awhile back. While it may have sounded unnecessarily dramatic for the raven he couldn’t help but find yours and Morpheus’ incomprehensible devotion to one another a true sight to behold. He’s seen couples give up on one another just because things got too hard and saw good people get hurt because of their partners actions. Complain all he wanted by Mathew knew that you and Morpheus belong together, more so then anyone he’s ever known, he refuses to sit by and watch you both suffer from a miscommunication error.

“As I’ve said before Morpheus craves you, your the only person who could satiate his hunger for love. Yes he’s not got the best track record and yes he may be a stubborn dream lord who only wishes to see his loved ones thrive but I know that he’d do anything to see you smile at him, to watch the vast view together upon the balcony.” Mathew flew up to your shoulder where he perched comfortably. “Just don’t run out of his life again.” Whilst his words were comforting, you just couldn’t help that all of this was a big mistake of sorts, that a wrong move has been made somewhere down the line but now it was too hard to pinpoint it’s exact moment of occurrence. Something didn’t feel right and you weren’t sure if it was the guilty feeling you’ve been carrying or the frightful feeling finally over coming you when you saw a familiar figure upon the very balcony you first saw him on, staring down at you with a stone face.

[writing-fanics]

[ Chapter One: Nevermore Academy ]

xavier thorpe x f!reader

table of contents < next chapter

word count: 1.9k 

By her father's request, [Y/n] wore a customized blazer made to fit her perfectly. Purple and black were the signature colors of Nevermore, along with the crest on her blazer. She embedded traces of sand into her clothing as well, adding a personal touch. A single black feather caught her eye in the mirror. By the outside window, peeking from behind the corner. Before completely disappearing from view. 

Thinking nothing of it, she continued to prepare for the day, at Nevermore Academy. Just as she was about to leave her room, the door burst open. Ivy her roommate entered the shared dorm room.

Her hands clenched and balled into fists; her cheeks bright red. "He's so fucking stupid!" Ivy shouted, angrily stomping her feet on the wood flooring. Groaning in frustration as she threw herself onto her bed. [Y/n] turned toward Ivy's side of her room, "I'm assuming, Eddie-"

"Ugh, he's so fucking clueless!" She groaned in frustration, grabbing her pillow and screaming into it. "Maybe, you should just tell him?" [Y/n] says looking at her. Ivy pulled her face away from the pillow and looked at her roommate, "Ah, yes maybe I should and be completely embarrassed afterward." Ivy says, sarcastically. 

[Y/n] sighed shaking her head, "I will once you confess your feelings too, Xavier." Ivy says, jokingly. [Y/n]'s face heated up as she looked at her roomate, "I have no idea what you're talking about." [Y/n] says, turning away from her and Ivy shook her head and chuckled.

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about." Ivy says, teasing. [Y/n] turned away hiding her face from her roomate. "It's so obvious you like him." She says, continuing to tease [Y/n]. "N-No I don't!" [Y/n] shouts, and Ivy laughse shaking her head knowing that it isn't true.

"Y/n, listen to me you are a terrible liar." She says, as she sits up from her bed and walks over towards [Y/n]. A sigh escapes her as she places a hand on her shoulder, "I understand, you want to deny your feelings for him. But he's going to find out cause you're really bad at hiding it." Ivy says and [Y/n] looks at her, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "It's that obvious?" [Y/n] asks, looking at Ivy and she just nods in response. 

[Y/n] sighs, walking towards her bed and grabbing her backpack. "I'm just going to forget the entire conversation ever happened, and go to first period." She says, walking towards the door and leaving her dorm.

She'd only been in school for a month almost two, and has already developed feelings for Xavier. Honestly, she was really nervous and didn't know what to do. She never felt these's feelings before theses emotions were all too new. 

She'd occasionally tense up in his presence, stammer and falter on her words unable to even get them out. She liked being around him when she could he'd bring a smile to her face. As she walked down the hallway, she'd catch the occasioanl glimpse of a black feathered bird flying swiftly past the window. Rolling her eyes she quickly made her way towards her first class.

During that time, a new student arrived at Nevermore Academy. Who was previously expelled from her latest school for killing two boys by dropping pirahnnas into the pool. Her name, Wednesday Addams. 

[Y/n] only saw her for a moment before needing to go to her first period class. Of course, everyone was gossiping about Wednesday and how her parents possibly pulled strings to get her off the hook. For killing the two boys as well injuring others.

"Honestly, I'm not suprises they let her into Nevermore." Ivy says walking up behind [Y/n] who turns around, and looks at her. "Why?" [Y/n] asks looking at her, "Um, knock knock Y/n. Her parents are alumni of the school." Ivy says and [Y/n] looks at her.

"Um, knock knock, Ivy this is my first time at Nevermore." [Y/n] says looking at her, "No you've just been living under a rock your entire life." Ivy says, getting a finger in response from [Y/n]. After she continued walking to her first period, fencing.

[Y/n] and Ivy were fencing against eachother, as the conversation went on in the room. "Maybe if you whined less and practiced more, you wouldn't suck." The two heard Bianca say to Rowan, "Seriously, Coach, when am I gonna get real competition?" She asks turning to look at the couch. Her eyes scanning the room for a another opponet.

 "Anyone else want to challenge me?" She sasks, and Wednesay wearing a black lamé , rather than the white one everyone else was wearing. "I do." Wednesday says, emotionless.

Looking at Bianca, " Oh, you must be the psychopath they let in." Bianca says, looking at Wednesday. Oh, how [Y/n] wished she had popcorn watching as Wednesday challenges Bianca.

[Y/n] honestly, never really had a problem with Bianca but seeing the self appointed Queen Bee, be challenged was so entertaining. And getting front row seats it was excellent.

After her classes were finished she made her way to her room, and just as she opened the door she saw it. A raven at the windowsill. "Ugh, I knew it!" She said, angrily. Storming towards the widowsill and opening it, "I've told may father that I'm in no need of a raven," She says and the raven looked down knowing she'd say that.

 "He said you'd say that," The Raven responded, looking at the girl. Who was glaring at her eye's filled with anger anger and annoyance, "He wants to know that you'll be alright," She says and [Y/n] scoffed rolling her eyes, and folding her arms across her chest.

"I'm doing just fine that you very much, now go back to the Dreaming." [Y/n] says, looking at the raven, "And, tell my father once again I'm in no need of a raven!" She shouts, and the raven caws in response, "No canndo m'lady, but um-" She froze the raven didn't say anything. [Y/n] turned to look at her, "What? What is it?" [Y/n] asks, looking at the bird. 

"Nevermind." The raven says and [Y/n] rolls her eyes looking away, and walking towards her bed and sitting down. She rolls her eyes and falls back her head hitting her pillow.  In the distance she could hear someone playing, Paint it, Black on the cello in the distance.

"So~ wanna talk boy?" Faye asked causing [Y/n] to grab her pillow, and toss it at the bird. Faye cawed in response, "Hey, watch it!" She shouted, and [Y/n] glared at her. "You watch it," [Y/n] spat looking at the raven. "Go back to the dreaming now and tell my father, that I'm in no need of a rave-"

"Y/n," A voice said and she turned around and saw her father, standing behind her but made of sand. "I see Faye failed to stay hidden," Morpheus says, his eyes glaring at the raven who shuffled out of sight. 

"Yeah, about I thought that I specifally told you that I don't need a raven." She says looking at her father, and he looks at her. "I'm very quite aware of your request, but as your father I have the right to know that you're well and safe." He says and she sighs folding her arms across her chest.

"Yes, but not by sending one of your ravens to spy on me." She says, pointing towards Faye. "I'm fine, I'm safe, and well." She says looking at him and he wasn't budging, "Perhaps," He says and she groans in annoyance.

 "Seriously, dad I'm fine I don't need a raven. Hell you said the samething to Lucienne." She said, and he looked at her, "Yes, I did end up needing him." He says, looking down at his daughter and she groaned in annoyance, pacing back and forth across her side of the room.

"What is it about this, Xavier I'm hearing about." He asks, and [Y/n] froze in her spot and her head craned towards Faye who was hiding, and she cawed seeing the princess' glare and flew out the window. "Y/n..." He says and she shook her head and pretended to yawn, "I'm really tired dad and have a busy day tomorrw," She says looking at him, "But you didn't."

"I'm fine okay, everything is fine but I need to get ready for bed okay." She says and Morpheus loosk at his daughter raising his eyebrow, "Hmm, goodnight my little dove." He says and she smiles looking at him as, he disappaers into a puff of sand. She groans in frusration and Faye flies back, and lands on the windowsill. 

"If you want to keep thoses feathers of yours, you mention anything about my feelings towards Xavier to anyone even my father. I'll pluck every feather off your body, and make a hate out of them." She says, and Faye nods.

[ Time Skip to the Harvest Festival ]

[Y/n] frowned as her dart misses the ballon over and over, "Ugh, I know theses are rigged." She groans in annoyance, and the standee looks at her knowingly, "Wanna try again?" He asks looking at [Y/n].

"Yes." She groans in response, continuing to miss the ballons over and over again. "You are really bad at this." The standee says and she looks at him and flips him off. Groaning in frustration she inevitably gives up, "You really, suck at this." She turned around, and saw Xavier walking towards her his hands in his jackets pocket.

She smiled at him sarcastically while her back leaned against the stand, "Wow, thanks for reminding me." She says to him sarcastically, looking at him. Turning around and looking back at the stand, "I'm planning on swiping one while his back is turned," She joked, as Xavier walked up beside her.

Before she could even react, he picked up a couple of darts missing a few ballons. But popping enough where he won a medium sized stuffed. She furrows her eyes as the standee handed Xavier the stuffed animal. "Show off," She joked looking at him and he chuckled softly, before handing the plush to her.

She smiles contently as she looks at the stuffed animals in her arms, her face heating up as she held it in her arms. Her heart pounding against her chest. She hugged it close to her chest and held onto the stuffed panda bear as if for dear life. 

Faye cawed, and landed on her shoulders looking at the stuffed animal in the princess' arms. "You're staring," Faye says, and [Y/n] looks away swiftly. "He's a friend." [Y/n] says, sitting on a nearby bench still holding onto the stuffed animal.

"You are in love." Faye says and [Y/n] scoffs rolling her eyes, placing the stuffed animal on the table and started looking at it. "If you don't mind me saying, I've seen it you are in love the way you look at him, your mannerism while around him-"

"I do mind, I'm not in love." [Y/n] says as she stares at the stuffed animal, "Ivy's right you're shit at hiding your feelings." Faye says to [Y/n] who immediately snaps her attention at her and glares, "Say that again, and you won't be flying home tonight." She says, and Faye cawed and flew away. Letting out a sigh, [Y/n]. Sirens blared in the distnace, and [Y/n] looked around seeing people scrambling

[Taglist]: @pinksirensong (just since does include morpheus) @preciousbabypeter @spideyanakin-interacts @betray-jaes @formulaangel55​ @momoko-world​ @bmkisseths​ @princess-depresso @tesha-i-guess​ @fl0r4f4wn​

[deadprocess]

You're writing is amazing! Would you be willing to write a third part to Idolize me? <3 <3 <3

//Its been awhile...but I did it//

//Triggers: gore mention, blood mention, dub con, violence, cursing...it's dead by daylight. Most of this needs a warning//

xx IDIOLIZE ME pt 3 xx

You couldn’t recall how long you’ve been in this world of terror. However you could vaguely recall when you first met him. He stood there with a gore covered bat that had collided with your friends head, raised high in the air and ready to swing back down to silence their gurgling. His yellow eyes blazed with a reflective glow similar to that of the cats. Though if you’re honest, you could barely see them from how blown out his pupils were.

It was unadulterated bliss on his face. Bliss from the murder of your friend. Or… Whatever this was. You never got used to how many of your friends died, how many times you died. You all came back. Fit as a fiddle for the next round, but just a little bit more tired and a little more desperate. How many times has your skull been crushed in? How many times has your body been torn apart? How many times has your fingers been bitten off? How many days since this began?

When did he decide that you were his?

He was such an odd character. A bright spectacle with human normalcy that stood out amongst the murk and darkness. But it was nothing but a colorful façade, that of a peacock showing its feathers. He was just as ugly as the rest of them. His mind just as fucked.

“Sing for me.” He’d purr, face so close to yours you could feel the wind of his breath. It was neither hot nor cold. Didn’t even have a smell. He wasn’t human was he? Not any more.

How long has it been since you were stuck in this realm? His realm? You never woke up by the campsite anymore. Only here in this tiny back room of the Crotus Prenn Asylum. You figure out this was the only place that would allow him. You weren’t aware that these monsters would be able to harm each other until he came hobbling back, covered in blood with the rabbit woman’s axe deeply embedded into his shoulder. He coexisted with the clown and the floating woman dressed in old time nursing clothes. You wondered if she pitied you by the way she lingered for a moment or two. She never stayed long, especially not when he was around. You supposed even killers had their limits. Or maybe she just didn’t want to see him knuckles deep inside you, forcing you to scream for all that you were worth. You supposed that was more of a mercy on her part.

You knew for a fact he was getting more pleasure out of this than you ever could. By the way his mouth hung open, drool pooling at the corner of his mouth and eyes heavy lidded mumbling something in Korean far to fast for you to understand. His finger nails digging into all the fresh cuts he made on your skin, forcing more blood to rivet down your arms and legs. You never screamed anymore, just let small grunts and gasps escape you as he sunk deeper into your warmth over and over again. You were hesitant to make anymore noises than that, lest he get the newfound inspiration to produce more of his "music" with you being his muse and starlet.

You missed your compatriots at the campfire. You wondered briefly if they missed you, but your curiosity began to fade as Ji-woon (as you come to find out when he screamed at you to moan his name, his real name, during one of your earlier rendezvous) lifted your hips to slam them back against his. You vision blurred as a knot tightened deep within you when he dragged against that special spot. Maybe you were becoming sick just like the rest, but who were you to deny the one pleasurable thing in this personal hell. It was just you and him now, and death couldn't do you two part.

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

“I love you, my dark angel…”

I’ve got a short lineup with various other characters coming soon. I’m going to be pretty busy this upcoming week (transferring hospitals) but I’ll try my best to get them to you! Enjoy! ~SuntoryAngel

The silence that filled the air after your confession threatened to make your nerves waver but you held fast. He blinked, as if your words had confused or caught him off guard, neither seemed likely since they would be unbecoming of him. Setting your spine straight, you took a deep inhale to continue.

The raise of his hand stopped your prepared speech. “We’ve known each other for a while now and I can’t tell you how much I have grown to appreciate your company. You’re unlike anyone else I’ve encountered with nonjudgmental tendencies accompanied with honesty and integrity.” If it were possible you thought he was blushing as he turned slightly away from you, his gaze briefly falling to the floor before returning to yours. “I must admit that I am unversed within matters such as these but I appreciate your words of emotion nonetheless.” Dark Shadow appeared, carrying a small little grey satin bowed package complete with a black tipped red rose, his cheeks showcasing twin pink ovals. “Please accept this gift as our answer.”

Now it was your turn to shift slightly while accepting the gift which made you second guess the one you’d handed to him; a first edition leather bound tome of Edgar Allen Poe works complete with his unpublished works and a new cloak that you handmade so that he could move easier with Dark Shadow at the ready in case they were on a mission. Inside the bag was a small collection of crystals ranging from amethyst to moonstone to tiger eye all in the polished shapes that were meant to ward off ill luck and such. Amongst them you could see a tightly braided cord with similar beads that looked to be a necklace, which you held out to him while standing then turning your back to face him.

His fingers were quick in fastening the clasp around your neck once he too rose from his seat. The first of the many layers was lace which complimented well against your skin tone, a secondary layer subtly throwing rainbows across the surrounding area from the stones embedded within the chain, the third consisted of the beads resembling the crystals, and the final layer ended with a large impressive blood ruby which dangled within the valley of your cleavage. It was so beautiful that you for a moment wanted to question him how much it had cost but that wasn’t important. “It looks lovely upon your being.”

A smile raised your lips while turning back to face him, your arms loosely wrapping around his neck. “As the sun admires the moon’s beauty, I too bask within the devotion you shower upon my desert.”

“Speaking of,” he lowly chuckled while brushing the curve of his beak along your nose’s ridge, “I have prepared one last gift for you back at my residence, if you so choose to be my valentine.”

Your brow rose. “Is that so?” A put made to pull your lower lip. “It would be a shame to end our culinary espionage this early. Especially when you put so much thought into this picnic overlooking the black swans swimming in the pond.”

“Then here we shall remain until you are ready.” One of his arms carefully tucked you against his side, Dark Shadow playfully nuzzling your hair before regarding the approaching aviary with interest.

“Should I present that swan’s carcass as my way of saying ‘I love you’ too?”

“If you do, then I may commission it to be transformed into an accessory of your choice.” Fumikage’s gaze shifted, a shadow appearing within their carmine depths. “I do believe you would look ravishing wearing a black feathered mask at the next masquerade we attend.”

A smirk lifted your lips as they brushed against his beak. “And here I thought you’d rather use it for a corset.”

From his chest rose a rumbling growl which was mirrored by Dark Shadow, both regarding the now weary swan who looked ready to run.

[ihatebnha]

bakugo + asking for a baby

I’ve always had this weird image in my head of asking sugar daddy bakugo for a baby… so this is that but the sugar daddy part is like……………… implied. Idk. I’m sick of working on it. I’m also sick of having my free time usurped.

(warning: sfw + gender is never mentioned I THINK but talk about having babies…??? One use of daddy but mostly nonsexually… ooc)

-

There is silence in the room when you enter.

Not silence.

There is the sound of a clock when you enter, the buzz of lights that are embedded in the cream painted walls. There is a low, static shuffle of soft ground, and the creak of even and steady breath.

There are bookshelves lining the wall, of dark oak and picture frames, trophies made from gleaming gold that sit upon the shelves, and merchandise, stacked up like children’s toys, surrounding you in equally sugar-coated bliss and familiarity.

The carpet is soft under your feet, soft as the door glides over curled silk and wool, and soft as you peek into the study. It’s easy, like things were when you were a kid and the places you were sneaking were places you wouldn’t be caught.

Here… not so much, despite how you still find in it the comfort and richness of home.

Of Katsuki.

He sits at his desk, imposing as usual despite his relaxed posture and the pen that he twirls between his fingers.

He is everything he should be, all scars and sinew and safety, yet, there is a gentleness to him that grows the closer you creep forward, or rather, when he notices your movement and turns to you; instantly.

Slumped shoulders, his face is stern under his glasses, his body obviously tired and worn. Still, he still accepts you into his lap with open arms and a breathless, “hello,” as you mold yourself into him as though you are one.

You pluck your lips to his, the movement feather light and gentle.

“I’ve been thinking…” you rub a thumb under one of his eyes, the crinkled skin soft with end-of-day exhaustion.

He hums, hands moving to your waist. “‘Bout what?”

“Something I want.”

He stares at you, the silence building and then collapsing.

“First, you wanted a car,” he says, “and what did I get you?’

You trace your fingers over his lips, ignoring the spark of intrigue and knowing in the garnet of his eyes. Your hand moves down his from chin to his neck in quick and gentle slide, and then from his neck to it his shoulder in an even swifter tickle. The gust of his breath on your mouth is warm, the heat in his voice unusually soft.

“A car,” you reply. “The BMW.”

He nods.

“And then you wanted a pet,” he continues, ignoring the soothing motion of your fingers rubbing back and forth on his shoulder. “So what did I give you?

You smile, the image of brown and white furs coming to mind, the little water bowl you picked out, the blue collar.

“A pet.”

“That’s right,” he nods, his expression stern. “And now you want more?”

It’s so easy to nod without hesitance, to sink into the warmth that is Bakugo’s lap, your hands on his chest, his hands just barely skimming over the curve of your back, a delicate dance meant just for the both of you.

You imagine a castle, though you practically already live in one, with the comfortable high ceilings and sleek, wooden floorings. Still, you imagine the long halls you would have, the sweeping dresses in perfect colors… and you imagine a wedding, and a crown.

“Tell me,” he says, the pause in between pregnant. “What do you want?”

The words don’t rip you from your daydream, and you bite your lip.

“A baby,” you say. “A girl.”

His eyebrows go up.

“A baby,” he repeats, pulling his lip upward humorously in confirmation. Tipping your head back, steadied by your grip around his neck, you nod despite the extreme taut of his lip. Anyone who saw him would think he was mocking you with the way he pushes his glasses up to his head, but you know better. You know him better. “Who’s she look like?”

You go back to grinning as you think about it.

“Me. With your hair. Little blonde curls,” you say, dragging a hand up to gently thread your hand through the hair on the back of his neck. There is no hesitance to the words, and his chest rumbles in slight laughter.

“Like a cherub, then?”

You nod, curling around him. “An angel.”

Bakugo doesn’t move except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. He continues to stare, fingers slowly creeping from your back to just barely cup your ass. He leans forward.

“If I give you this,” his voice is deep and low, “will you stop asking me for every fuckin’ thing?

You laugh, quietly, tugging on his hair ever so slightly. His eyes narrow, while your eyebrows raise.

“I’m not sure. What if baby needs a new pair of shoes?”

He lifts you up, then, suddenly; thighs steady despite the plush flooring of which he stands on, grip secure regardless of how he uses one hand to rip off his glasses. Over his shoulder, with his lips moving to press to your ear in a slight kiss, you once again admire his books, his trophies, and his merchandise.

It’s home.

“Then baby,” he replies, hefting you up to make sure your legs are properly secure around him, your arms looped around his back, “can ask daddy her damn self.”

[stray-kaz]

Pain and Protect : an Arondir x reader drabble

A/N: part of the Falling Star series. How far will it go? Nobody knows...

And P.S., I know this “protect girl in bar” is the oldest trope there is, but cliches become cliches for a good reason.

You were forced under duress to work at the village tavern, to help keep your family under a comfortable roof. You despised the work, the dark, dank building, the smell of the beer, and most of all, the men. No capital ‘M’ for these bastards.

The day edged off into the night, the light slowly traipsing below the horizon, far, far away. You leaned against the doorjamb in the open doorway, watching it disappear, orange licking along the seam of the sky like a giant tongue of fire. You heard your name being called and ignored it, determined to watch the fiery display before it vanished for another day.

A meaty hand clamped down on your shoulder and you twisted to glare up into the face of the barkeep, irritated at being disturbed on your short break.

“I still have time” you snapped, shaking his hand off.

“You’ll work when there are customers” Waldreg countered, and shoved you towards the nearest waiting table.

As you stumbled, nearly tripping over the hem of your dress, you caught the eye of the handsome elf who came to the village every week or so. His gaze was on you and then it dropped to the hands of the man who had pushed you, the fingers of his visible hand curling into a fist on top of the bar. You brushed past him on your way to the barrels.

“Hello, Arondir” you murmured. “You’ve come a long way again. Can I get you something?”

He shook his head, his warm eyes fixed on yours as you spoke.

“No, thank you” he replied quietly. “That won’t be necessary. It is not what I’m here to do.”

You cocked your head to the side, curious.

“Then what are you here to do?” you asked him.

“Look out for you. The men in here are not exactly...trustworthy.”

“It would be nice if you could be here every day” you replied, glancing around the room.

A pained expression emerged and then was covered once again by the stoicism you had come to associate with him.

“I would if I could” he told you. “I do what I can. I am here when I can be.”

Your eyes widened and you scrambled to right yourself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” you insisted hurriedly. “I know you cannot be here every day.”

“Wench!”

You stiffened, not realising that Arondir had tensed all over also, one hand going to the knife concealed under his cloak. You sighed and turned away from him, only to feel a feather light touch on your wrist, turning you back to him.

“I will escort you home tonight.”

You nodded, biting down on a smile, and hustled away to do your job.

**********

The evening wore on until the shadows rolled all the way in to cover the land and every single lamp was burning. Time had crept along, but you were mere seconds from closing when a rough hand snaked under your skirt and felt up your leg to prod at you. You startled and moved away, panic clawing its way up your throat as black memories poured in, freezing you to the spot.

A sharp yelp met your ears, breaking you out of your fear induced fugue. An elvish knife was embedded in the man’s wrist, carefully avoiding vital arteries. The hilt quivered as Arondir strode across the tavern to yank it free, his beautiful face twisted into a ferocious expression. He wiped the blade clean on the injured man’s sleeve and sheathed it, before reaching behind him for your hand.

When you did not give it to him immediately, he turned slightly and gently took it, his palm swallowing yours. He gave you a careful tug and you followed him out the door without a glance back.

The home you shared with your family stood on the very outskirts of the village, right by the path that led away to the elves’ watchtower. Lamps burned in the windows and downstairs, signalling the presence of family members waiting up for you. Just outside the circle of light bleeding out from under the door, Arondir stopped, turning to face you.

“I am sorry for what happened to you” he said sombrely.

“Why? It was not your fault.”

He shook his head.

“No, but I could have prevented it.”

You reached up with a cautious hand and carefully touched the side of his face.

“You may be an elf, Arondir, but you are not omniscient” you said quietly, smiling a little sadly. “He was not the first and I doubt he will be the last.”

His jaw clenched, a muscle feathering dangerously close to the surface.

“He was not the first?” he asked lowly, his voice almost a growl.

You shook your head.

“No” you whispered. “He was not.”

You gestured to the waiting house.

“I need to go” you said, tilting your head in that direction. “My parents are waiting for me.”

Arondir nodded, but before he let you leave, he lifted your hand that he was still holding and brought it to his lips, kissing the soft skin with a reverence that bordered on awe and brought the welcome sting of tears to your eyes.

“Goodnight, my falling star” he murmured, and released your hand.

“Goodnight, soldier” you replied softly, and watched him blend in with the night.

Tagging: @succsessions​

[silversiren1101]

Hope I'm not too late...△Mino, how do you feel about your ganzi traits? If you could get rid of them, would you? Alternatively, is there anything other ganzi have that you want?

Her eyes go wide, before they narrow into something keenly aware overtop a tight-lipped smirk.

"A bold question, and I'd be curious to know who put you up to asking it, even."

Her tail flicks the air, a rustle of feathers almost punctuating her next words.

"It's complicated. As a child, I hated them and what I was. How could I not? When my scales were peeled from my flesh so much each was surrounded by a bed of scarring and my feathers had been deemed so unsightly my spine was burned with hot wax to keep them from growing." The bitterness in her voice is scathing, but it's not at you. There's an anger there welling from a need for justice, you can tell. In a way that had never been fulfilled.

"Then... as a young adult and during the War, I did everything I could to ignore them, as if they were some unimportant part of me", she continues. "They started growing again then, the scar tissue healed from the restoration I received after my impromptu Trial with that osyluth... Back then it filled me with so much anxiety and fear that it would only cause more pain. Now, I see it for what it was. Me healing. Me... becoming myself, really."

A finger strokes the length of a feather where her tail has propped itself up upon itself, as if an eager assistant. She also traces a few scales as she's at it, speaking to them more than she does to you.

"These days... it's acceptance... and love... but it's also complicated."

Those violet irises flash your way. So much truth shines in them: it truly is complicated.

"I love them dearly. They are me, after all. I have jewels embedded in my flesh like noblewomen could only dream of and plumage like their prized peacocks. My tail has a mind of its own sometimes, yes--", it rattles and wiggles, almost as if stressing her point, "--and it's difficult to have your emotions on public display in the way it can, but it's also me. It's like a sliver of my soul everyone can see, for both good or ill..."

She pats the tail which retreats down to the floor again.

"It's just difficult, coming to terms with the fact that who I am and what I am are excuses to hurt me or wish me harm, to treat me like shit stuck to a boot or assume I am nothing but trouble. The Hellknights helped with that, at least", she chuckles. "People tend to take you far more seriously when wearing the armor, and the assumptions about being a chaotic miscreant kind of fall short when you've passed the Trial and have rank."

A cheeky grin reveals the hint of a fang--another one of her ganzi traits.

"As for you actual questions... would I get rid of them? A long time ago, I wanted nothing more than to be perfectly human. My answer then would have been pathetic begging. Now, though, no. They are me. I love them and thus I love me. I wished other people loved them as much, or that they even loved me as much back--they're a real pain in the ass to take care of--but no, I wouldn't trade them for the world."

The scales on her cheeks practically shine as they crinkled into the wide smile she gives. All four of her serpentine fangs glint in the light.

"As for other traits I don't have! Well, wings and natural talent for fighting are out of the question; I'm protean blooded, not valkyrie or einherjar. But! Some ganzi are... let's just say, bizarrely flexible. You ever see a cat fit through a hole half its body size? Now that would be a useful trait to have! Just thinking of all the times I've been grabbed and had a hell of a time breaking free... that giant lich wouldn't have crushed me during the war, I bet you that."

[Intrusiveness 6/10]