#write bite

[piperjistic]

Golden Heart - KFP

“You’re the best of us, Po.” Po blinked. Po blink again.

Tigress wears a soft and small smile, as if what she said has no weight- no- it made perfect sense for her to say while everyone downed a bowl of noodles after a hard day of training. Well, if Chi had to used then yes, it was definitely a hard day.

“What? Me? No-“

“No it’s true Po! You are!” Monkey chimed in, tapping his chopsticks together. He was smiling as well. They all were. Like they all reached a consensus without speaking. Or maybe they did the night before, who knows?

“But you guys are the Furious Five!?!”

Crane shrugs. Mantis also shrugs, replying. “So? What does that got to do with that?”

Po couldn’t believe it. The Furious Five, the ultimate kung fu fighting team that trained under the Master Shifu and Oogway. They think he’s better than all of them? No, that can’t be right. He closes his mouth, frowning. They’ve spent years together training, living, and, well, everything. They must not be thinking straight from hunger. “Alright, enough. You guys need to eat your food, you’re going delirious from hunger.”

“All of us?” Viper questions, wiggling her chopsticks at everyone.

“We are not delirious. Delirious would be me not wanting to eat your cooking.” Monkey said, Mantis nodding as he promptly stuffs a noodle into his mouth. “Mmmm…!”

“I highly doubt all of us is delirious, especially Tigress.” Crane chirps, holding his bowl to his beak. Tigress sharpens her eyes on him, he immediately shrinks.

“What’s that suppose to mean-“

“We love your cooking Po,-” Viper cuts in; reeling the conversation back in. “-but we love you more. And we truly believe you are the best of us because of who you are and what you’ve done for us.”

Po’s expression hasn’t budge from confusion. He sets his chopsticks down. “What- But???”

“Po, what’s so confusing about this?” Tigress presses on, a twinge of agitation in her voice. He exaggerates his gestures towards them to match his voice.

“You shared your pain together!” They all shrug..

“But not our laughs.” Monkey replies fleetly.

“And definitely not our bellies.” Mantis jokes. Crane follows up.

“Oo- and definitely not a more gracious Shifu. I mean-“

“Until you.” Viper finishes. Okay, that was an coordinated defense attack(?). Maybe they weren’t delirious.

“Po,” Tigress takes a softer tone, catching his eyes immediately. “You’ve done so much for us that you probably won’t realize until later, but we-… I, at least, want to properly say thank you for it. Thank you for feeding us your delicious noodles. Thank you for opening our eyes to a life that includes more than just kung fu. Thank you for giving Shifu closure and easing his soul. Thank you for everything. You have… such a way with words… you have a heart of gold. Pure and shining like the sun.” She places her paw on top of his.

His eyes widen, surprised by the public display of affection. Though his surprise at finally understanding what they meant overrides it.

“Wait so are we talking about the noodles or-“ Tigress massages her temple.

“Po-“

“Okay! Kidding…! Mostly.” He whispers the last part. “So my character?”

“Yes!” They say in unison. Crane pinches his brow, recapping for him.

“You have a heart of gold, your the best of us.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m the best-“ Monkey cuts him off.

“You’re going to be.” Then Mantis raises his claw to Po’s open mouth.

“You’re gentle, kind, forgiving, and appreciative.” Tigress tries not to grumble the last part. Viper giggles.

“And we love you for that.”

The panda was stunned by the big display of affection before him, even repeated to him no less. All for him? Really? “Aww you guys-“

“What’s this racket at this time of night?” Shifu stands at the door, frowning as usual.

They all deadpan. “Po.”

“Ah.. I see. Makes sense. Goodnight everyone.” He continues moving along.

“Whattt- Hey wait a minute!” Po trips out of his seat to follow their kung fu master. They all laugh and sigh. Now they can finish their meal in piece and let their master quell the panda.

[pjs-art-cosmos]

Beloved - Blaze Family

“They’ve been calling me that for the last two weeks.” Drake sips his coffee, listening to his wife’s plight. She sighs, and sips her own tea.

Their table rattles as Hilbert slings against it, pulling up a chair with his own coffee.

“Wait, what? What’s the issue?” She taps her tea cup while he pours the entire bottle of creamer into his coffee. Drake gags, Jo only scoots closer.

“Beloved. They’ve been calling me that.”

“And who?” She stirs her tea, perplexed.

“Fox and Lori. They’re up to something, I know it.” She sips at her tea again, glaring at the tea ripples.

Drake and Hilbert glance at each other, before shaking their heads. “Those two never scheme though, Jo.”

“Uh, are you sure it’s not just a term of endearment?”

“What?” She stares at them crazy, as if they just revealed some outlandish information…. Have they used the word endearment around Jo before?

“Ah. Jo, it’s another nickname.” Drake chirps.

“Oh…” The cogs start turning as she stares at her tea. He elbows to stop his brother-in-arms from laughing.

“Are you sure Lori-“

“Beloved!~” Speaking of the mermaid, she skips over and squeezes her best friend. “How are you today?” Finishing with a peck on the cheek. Jo doesn’t respond, still processing this new yet vital information. “Jo?”

“Give her a second Lori.” He mutters to himself. “We need to get out more.”

Hilbert only smiles. “Nah, we’re perfect.”

The other deadpans. “No, we’re not.”

Lori shakes her head at the two. “Wait, Jo you didn’t know what beloved meant?“

“No…. It’s strange.”

“Well, it means that you’re someone special to me, and I am delighted when I spend time with you. I would love almost nothing more than be by your side, Jo.”She flashes her signature smile that could warm any heart. Her friend shivers.

“Ew.” She wants to spend more time with her? Really? All she does is do chores, care for her family, and occasionally look at rocks…. and build snow-globes. Other than that, why would anyone want to spend time with her? Is she that interesting? Or is there nothing else to do? Another mystery Lori gives her to think about.

However the mermaid shakes her head, grabbing one of her hands.

“Can’t I cherish you?” Tea goes down the wrong hole, leaving Jo a coughing mess.

“Wait, you think I’m going to die???” Her mind flickers to when Jake found an injured bird that was on the brink of death, Drake told him to simply “cherish it” before it passed away the next day.

“What?? No!”

“That’s not how that works, Jo.” Her husband sighs, pinching the brim of his nose. Hilbert hands her a napkin. “You can cherish people whenever, it’s not just imma die thing.” She wipes her mouth.

“Oh…..” Lori couldn’t help but smile again, Jo’s such an odd person. It’s like she could say ten new words to her just by chatting about her day. And yet, she isn’t judgmental in the slightest and willing to learn. It’s so earnest. She couldn’t contain her giggle.

“Don’t you love it when Jo learns something new?”

“Ehh…” Drake keeps sipping his coffee, but Hilbert laughs, nodding.

“Oh! What did she learn new???” Fox trots over, hearing the commotion. One at glance at a blank-stare Jo leads him to smirk playfully.

“It must be life-changing, I can see the cogs turning in her head.” His finger spins in a circle.

“Oh and good morning too you beloved.” Fox and Lori exchange peaks on cheeks, flashing smiles at each other. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Awww, no problem beloved. Good morning too!”

“Huh????” Wait Fox is a beloved too??? He can be?? This is too much, a headache starts to form as Jo rubs her temple. No amount of tea can fix this.

“You can cherish multiple people, hun.”

“I’m going to cut down a tree now.” She takes off, her too beloved friends trail after her, both shouting.

“We’ll come with you, beloved!”

It’s quieter now, but Drake could only sigh. Maybe Fox and Lori did have a ploy against his wife.

A ploy to cherish her, no matter if she understands it or not. He shakes his head, though Hilbert was cheesing, entertained to the fullest.

“Well then. What do you think about that, beloved?” He props his head up on his cheeks. His brother in arms sips the last of his coffee.

“That I love this family and you all lost your damn minds.” He squeezes his hand before drinking the rest of his own coffee.

“Awww cheer up, beloved.”

“Ew.” Drake gags, though is unsuccessful in hiding his smile.

[piperjistic]

“God chooses our judgment now!”

“What the fuck?”

“I told you. If a god handles these matters; humans will lose their minds. Some would try to use it to their advantage, becoming false representors, cult leaders and more. They will live in fear of our actions, thinking it’s our judgment.”

“Yeah that’s bullshit. You could of poisoned him.”

“Which would lead to people choosing not to rise above their oppressors, believing someone else will do it and a power vacuum.”

“There’s always going to be a power vacuum! That’s why there are other dark lords that rises to power and some people will follow. Jerry from the previous dark lord worked for this pile of charcoal but with his kids now.”

“Awww adorable how lil Frod & Wroth has grown isn’t it.”

“You’re deflecting the issue.”

“Then what would you have me do?”

“Destroy the dark lord before they become the dark lord. Stopping them at their roots.”

“Hmmm…. So when they’re innocent?”

“No, when they pledge their ambitious undertaking to the sky or at least they start building their army. They would have commited an atrocity by then.”

“Fine, that would barely fixed it though.”

“You know what? Fuck it, send me down there, turn me human-shaped. I’ll fix it then.”

“Brother” cried the god of fire, “Instead of picking a dumb farm hand to be the chosen one, why don’t you just smite the villain yourself or bless an actual warrior?” The god of air replied: “There’s a reason why it must be a farm hand. But fine, see what happens when we do it your way”

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

yuuta gets so flustered whenever you sit on his lap – he just doesn't know what to do with himself:((((

you're laughing alongside with maki and nobara, your back to your boyfriend; your hips glued to yuuta's and the poor boy feels like he's on fire. he's trying so hard to focus on anything other than your ass right on top of his cock but it's simply impossible. it's taking him everything to keep listening to the conversation between yuuji and megumi; his eyes trained over your shoulders, on the way your lips stretch wider and wider with every word that tumbles from nobara's mouth. yuuta's glad you're having fun.

but he wishes he was having fun, too. how could he be if he's a breath away from popping the fattest boner right in front of his friends? a deep blush settles across his nose and his cheeks and he just hopes that the other's won't notice.

his impatient fingers dig into your waist and you immediately turn to him with wide eyes, making yuuta regret his decision to do so. you ask him whether he's okay, whether he wants anything and he feels like a proper pervert – you're just trying to make sure he's enjoying himself while he's here, thinking about how wet and warm and tight you'd feel around his aching cock.

shivers run up his back when your hand finds the back of his neck, fingers twirling in the dark strands of hair as you quip a sweet little 'hm?' at him. yuuta lets his eyes close in a desperate try to get his shit together. puppies, kittens, flowers. he has to think about anything other than you. bed, candy, kissing. fuck, that's not–

yuuta's eyes crack open the second he feels you wriggle your hips. just once, but it's enough to send another wave of blush all over his body. and the situation only gets worse when he sees your sticky, honeyed smile. oh, you know exactly what you're doing.

swiveling your hips again, yuuta's fingers sink into your waist almost painfully, his pretty lips parted as he mouths a 'please' at you. the need pooling in his eyes makes you giggle, catching the attention of your friends again. you turn back to them with a big grin, your body melting deeper into yuuta's while continuing on with the conversation as if nothing happened. as if you can't feel how hard your boyfriend is.

an almost silent whine brushes the shell of your ear as yuuta tries to hide his face in the crook of your neck, his face heating up even more when he hears you defend him by saying that he's simply tired. he tries to get a bit more comfortable by spreading his legs but that only makes you sink lower, closer to his bulge. yuuji calls out to him and he dreads raising his head from the comfort of your skin, knowing that if the pink-haired boy doesn't notice his pained face then megumi surely will. fuck, you're killing him – still smiling wide, you wriggle your hips every time you laugh, freely torturing your sweetheart of a boyfriend.

but he can't even be mad, can he? he loves you, and he loves when you do stuff like this. he's harder than ever and feeling a little dirty for being like this; pre-cum stains his boxers while he's sitting here with his friends. he knows you'll tease him for it later, too. call him pathetic, call him cute.

he's never been more excited to go home.

[piperjistic]

“Aren’t you glad it’s raining?” The villain murmured. “It does so improve the aesthetics of you breaking my heart…”

Wraith said to the dog. The dog that betrayed her trust. The only dog that could do this to her, her dear Shadow.

They destroyed a precious symbol of their villainy. One— No, the most expensive caper displayed as a vase dazzled in blood red diamonds (not literally blood diamonds, we have standards here), tanzanite, larimar, a dash of mali garnet and tourmaline.

She danced through every shadow, room corners and dragged those who opposed them to the floor unconscious.

It wasn’t even just a bedazzled vase, it was mural of culture. The Sky brimming in the deep blue of tanzanite, clashing with red diamonds as the sea, which creeped up on shore where larimar splashed as seafoam. Upon this beach was a woman dressed in black opals walked upon sand of the brown garnet, watching with the sun of tourmaline. The edges of the yellow sun, a faint red as tourmaline never disappointed in its bicolor theatrics.

Behind the woman was a town, it wasn’t dazzling but the architecture and detail was worth mentioning, out of earthware clay no less.

This was a beautiful work of art that anyone, even Wraith would treat with the utmost respect. It was made out of love and the essence of their culture.

But now, it was just stone shattered on the floor with a bunch of shiny pebbles laying around it.

There was no way to fix this— with their current skillset anyways. And that won’t be changing anytime soon. They direct their stare back to dog, harsh and frowning.

“How will you atone Shadow?” The dog tilts its head. She kneels down, grabbing their chin, staring deep into those black eyes. “Well?”

Shadow licks her face. They wag their tail excitedly, their master finally allowing them to reach her face for affection.

Wraith could only laugh, accepting the licks. “Awww, I can’t stay mad at you ❤️!”

Shadow barks happily. The supervillain smiles and scratches their partner in crime’s head before popping back up, rejuvenated. “Alright, now let’s go catch a body!”

Woof!” She flashes her talon gloves before walking towards the exit. Shadow quickly follows, ready for the run they might take.

It’s not all bad. She could maybe superglue it later. And put it on a higher and more sturdier pedestal. She sighs, glancing at her happy dog.

“Everyone has a shadow, and tries to run away from it, but sometimes, it might just catchup.”

— • —

Thought process used to write this: Silly bullshit go brrrr

I love gemstones

Prompt #2942

“Aren’t you glad it’s raining?” the villain murmured. “It does so improve the aesthetics of you breaking my heart.”

[umblrspectrum]

i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

[6love6bites6]

Does anyone want to bite down into my shoulder while they fuck me? I promise I'll whimper and moan about it.

[grenadehearts]

a bit suggestive! thinking about bf!kirishima who loves to mark you but is so shy and embarrassed seeing the after-effects.

boyfriend!kirishima is the type of man to be completely, hopelessly pussywhipped by you. So much so that the moment things get even remotely physical—whether it’s a slow, lazy makeout on the couch or something rougher and hungrier—he loses all coherent thought. His brain just shuts off, replaced by a single, overwhelming instinct: you.

He’s so consumed by you, so high off your taste and touch, that he leaves a trail of bite marks along your skin—his sharp teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm, just enough to draw out those soft little yelps he lives for. He trails his mouth down your collarbone, pressing wet, messy kisses into your skin, each one louder and sloppier than the last. Between every kiss, he murmurs praise like a prayer, over and over again, his voice muffled against your flesh:

“Perfect girl… mine… my wife… mine, mine, mine.”

You’re not his wife. Not yet. But in Kirishima’s eyes, you already are. And he wants you to know it. He fully intends to put a heavy, glimmering diamond on your finger—one that catches the light just like your eyes do. Until then, he marks you the only way he knows how: with his mouth, his hands, his love.

Your skin—so soft and warm and his—ends up coated in blooming bruises and faint indents from his teeth. Each one a love letter scrawled in violet and rose. And later, when the haze lifts and he catches sight of your body in the soft light of morning, painted in proof of his hunger, he goes all shy and flustered.

“Oh… shit, babe,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes trail over the marks. “I got carried away again, huh?”

He’ll tug one of his oversized shirts over your head, fumbling with the fabric like maybe if he covers them up, it’ll make his embarrassment disappear. But you just grin, shrugging it off, wearing each mark like it’s something sacred. Because to you, it is.

And he melts—his face going red as he buries it in the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around you tight as if he could somehow shield you from the sight of the love he’s already left behind. He might get embarrassed every time, but he’ll never stop. He’ll keep coating you in his adoration, over and over, because loving you is instinct. Loving you is need.

masterlist link here.

taglist: @luvseraphh @xoxojisu @candiiee @cvnt4him @soundtrqck @lotusstarr @cupkiki @wokasiv @badslittlemuffin @moonstonejpg @chlosology @princessshnazzy @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @gethexxed @dreamcastgirl99

[piperjistic]

Note: Tender Asriel + Fran (When first get together) Frans pronouns: sir/sire/sireself

Sea Bed

They lay in bed as the wind howls outside. The ocean roars, sending waves to crash and ripple against the rocks of the shore. The sky was dark and battered down everything underneath in rain. Like the rocks, it does not bother the two. They kindle together close like the fire blazing away in the fireplace in front of the bed.

The two that lays in bed is of human and siren. The human, old yet far from frail, curls closer to his beloved, whom very old yet never could be frail, hummed pleased.

They’ve grown content of the sound over the years. From above and below. It was calming, noise that resides in the background for them. If there was no sound, it meant something was wrong. However, tonight with the crashing and bellows, everything was perfect for them.

Fran open sir eyes and graze sir fingers across his uneven stubble, to twirling the ends his bushy mustache that mimicked bushes sprouting in all directions on the beach. His lips twitch into a small smile. Sir voice sweet as sire open sir lips.

“May I show you something my love?” He hum, sir eyes watch every movement sire fisherman makes, from breathing to adjusting. Asriel glances up to sire, his hand gently touching the others that lingers on his chest.

“Of course…”

Sire inhales his scent from his hair, rosemary bathed in crispy sea salt. Sir lips curve into a small smile. Lifting the webbed hand resting on his chest, Fran rubs sir thumb and pointer finger, a drop of water forms. Only a size of a pea before rolling around in the siren’s hand, absorbing more moisture and growing in size. The sea creature glows gentle shades of pink and purple, humming as the water drop swirls into a small cyclone, glowing hues of blue. Its size sprouts from the palm of sire hand as it grows wider.

The fire flickers from the magic, taken aback. It returns to normal as a sphere of seemly cloudy water, rippling above sir hand, yet has the luster of a freshly farmed pearl.

Asriel doesn’t pay attention to the magic trick, his eyes only on his darling siren. The warm glow from the corals and barnacle dotted around sir body. He hardly could take his eyes off her, maybe it’s the music or the heavenly glow that enhances sir natural beauty.

Fran nudges him, he blinks. His self-induced trance no more. She chuckles as he shifts on sire to stare at the new object.

The misty water clears and lies an image. A rather shallow yet firm barrel sponge, brownish-red as a faded penny that’s been left on the dock for endless years that sits ruggedly on the sand bed as minnows swim by.

The short walls allows for him to see more within. It isn’t much by the look of it. Simply tall blades of seagrass threaded around the stalks of mushroom coral flushed in green and marroon strikes as if it was a underwater watermelon latched to a flat rock underneath them pads the hollow inside.

Accompany by erect tube sponges branching over rocks, skin coarse with nubs, prickled around in a wide oval around it all, yellow dotted each opening of the sponges.

Behind it all was what he could identify an elephant ear sponge. Big and wide, stretching out like an elephant’s ear that’s decorated by small holes in a bright peppy orange, alive as ever, curling in flaps over the back side as coverage and shade.

Sponges was the bulk of the bedding(?) it seemed. Asriel leaned closer, intrigued by the culmination of sea life.

“Here… here is my bed.” His hand reaches out, only a finger touching the pearly screen. Asriel says nothing, though tilts his head to see more. “Deep under the waters, on the bottom where shells and bone rest… There is where I sleep.”

Sire relinquishes it to him, which draws both of his hands underneath the floating orb as if it would shatter or collapse under one.

Fran laughs once more, lighthearted and amuze, voice echos through the room. Like fire, Asriel swoons, eyes back to sire. Though that’s shortly lived as sir directs his chin with the tip of sir webbed fingers to the pearl.

Curls closer to him, hooking arm firmer arojnd him as a finger swipes at the water screen, image blur to another. This contains not just the seabed, but sireself as well. Laying and rolling on whatever comfort Fran seemed to find, fingers entwining with the seagrass as sire curls together. Sir eyes were close, letting bubbles stream sir breath.

“It isn’t as soft, isn’t as warm…” Sir finger fiddles with his brine-blasted goatee, gently tugging the scruffy patch of hair downwards.

“Unlike here, where comfort and warm are abundant with your blankets and pillows.” Sir lauded. The siren’s tail creeps over, uncoiling briefly to slither around the humans hips, a brief flash of cold from the coarse hide meeting his own warm tan skin travels up his spine. He shivers. The crusted nubs and shells fitting perfectly in the dips and wrinkles in his skin, snuzzled warmly. Gentle to not break his mortal bones. He clears his throat.

“May I say something?” Sir eyes lit up.

“Anything.” He glances up from his cap and shaggy white hair, eyes gleaming brown, reminding Fran of mussels who in time make the most precious pearls for the world to see.

“Will you eat me?”

Sire laughs. “Of course not… If I wanted to, I would have long ago…” Sire muses.

“You know, you’re a lot more cuddly and affectionate than I expected.”

“Humans make many assumption about my kind, my Love.” The siren blesses the man with a kiss on the side of his forehead, he hums delighted.

“And whilst you are certainly correct in some things, rarely do you seem to take into consideration how incredibly precious our mates are to us, and how much of an influence you have on our behavior.”

Fran gently takes his hand from sir chest and brings it to sir head as sire bows towards him. He feels sire inhale deeply. His hand hovered over her head where purple frilly lace weaved around some of the harder yet stubby corals sprouted upwards as if it was a crown and throw in the occasional seashells, it was a beautiful ecosystem of its own, hues of a fuchsia sunset fuchsia and tiny hints of a deep violet sparkling around.

Before Fran, he never planned on touching a siren, especially on their heads. But now, he still believed he would never touch their heads considering the last time he saw someone attempt to, they all almost drowned him, baring their fangs and claws, eyes even slitting. It was terrifying, and he knew sire wouldn’t hurt him, but it still gave a clear warning of what not to do.

“I know you’ll be gentle.” Trusting half-lidded eyes stare at him as sir grinned.

“… You sirens always avoided things touching your heads though… but-“ He inhales. “-alright.”

He inhales again, hesitating, before placing a hand to sir head, which made him raise a brow. Yes, it was slightly more textured as more sandy bits were trapped between the corals and it was moist…. But it was also strangely soft. His hand didn’t sink like quicksand so it wasn’t as soft, just soft enough to hold its form like a wet noodle. Fran’s breath hitches. A minute passes in silence. The siren breaks it, closing sir eyes. “Good, do not fear it Asriel my dear… it will not hurt me…. Now rub.”

The sound that came next, made even the fire silent. Fran purrs, loudly. Asriel eyes widen, mouth in a O, his cheeks warm as the blazing fire, and his ears the color of corals among sire body. He didn’t stop.

Sir purr drowned out the storm, and the look on sir face? Well, it was bliss. The siren cooed and purr, baring fangs in a toothy smile, eyes unfocused at the ceiling, hands clasp together. Even her instinctive responses are sweet melodies. Asriel swore he was as red as a lobster now. He still didn’t stop and wore a toothy smile himself. Sire deserves this… this bliss.

When he strung harder with his thumb against them, sir tail tightened around his aged hips and squeezed the air out of his lungs, he snatches his hand back. He might of gone too far, indulged too much? But… Never in his years would he expect to hear that from a siren, like this. Lying bed, cuddling on a stormy night, warming each other…. Wrapping sir tail around him as he rubbed sir head.

That seemed like a set up… for something else… he may or may not would be interested in. He would never say to anyone. Age doesn’t cure instinct, he would say.

It takes a moment of fire crackling and thundering from the weeping storm clouds before they engage again. Sir chuckles, hearty and loud. Not loud as before of course. Fran saw her human’s flustered face, and it was perfect. Asriel is never one to express such emotion, so to her that meant the same to what this meant to her. Sir gently grabs his hand in one, kissing a knuckle. The other guides his chin forward towards sire as sir stares at him lovingly. “Only you get to do this… No one else.” He licked his dry lips, awestruck and stifled.

“Only you will be coiled around to the end of your days, only you will share my bounty that isn’t a siren in my quartet, only you will get to hear my darkest secrets and only you shall I lend all my power to…. Only you make me feel this way.”

Sir hands slither to cup his cheeks, rubbing the wrinkles and freckle. Fran leans in, closing the gap between them. He follows sire lead. His lips taste of mint and rosemary. Sire’s of salt, grindy like sandy, and sweetly nutty. Huh…. He doesn’t mind though. Rather he indulges. Maybe it’s because of her alluring beauty, maybe it’s his tastebuds are past its prime, starting to fail him. It doesn’t matter.

“I could give you pearls beyong your wildest dreams, drag people to do your bidding, you never have to work anymore…”

“I don’t need pearls or extra helping hands when I have you.”

“Oh my young soul Asriel…”

“Besides… its my turn to entice you.”

“Oh?”

“Whenever you need to sleep, whenever you want to sleep… this is your bed. You bed by the sea, and can still be with the sea…”

Sir squeals, baring sire fangs with glee.

Fran grasp his hands and squeeze. The fire flickers violently as bubbles shed from coral openings on the siren. They pop only moments laters, sire sealing anymore escaped magic.

“Thank you mi amor…. I’ll treasure this— No, I have treasured this… this means more than you know…”

“Of course…”

Lightning strikes, the light above flickers before popping. They don’t flinch however, rather they share another kiss with the fire only illuminating each other’s features. They storm may rage on, but it could never erode their seabed.

Person A: “You know, you’re a lot more cuddly and affectionate than I expected.”

Person B: “Humans make many assumptions about my kind, My Love. And whilst you are certainly correct in some things, rarely do you seem to take into consideration how incredibly precious our mates are to us, and how much of an influence you have on our behaviour.”

[piperjistic]

Mushroom Soup

Vivica + Toni

They laid in silence on the bed. Only their breathing and distant buzz of the kingdom were audible.

It was hard to reel in the thistles. The second they sense someone new with a lot of magic flittering around then here comes a congregation that rowdies them up. And then

Lastly, the dreaded paperwork, the kind where the queen couldn’t even doodle on.

“Drink?” Vivica offers, swishing two wine glasses into her hand and smiling softly. Toni nods, clapping a bottle of white wine into his hands, returning the smile. “Drink.”

They sit up, Toni pours the clear yellow liquid into the glasses, they splash around before settling. “Cheers.” They tap their glasses together and take their sips.

The wine rolled down their throats

Vivica clears her throat, sitting up on her elbows. “It’s funny isn’t it?”

He quirks his brow. “What is?”

“That we got here and how much we accomplished, isn’t it Toni?”

He thought about, rolling through the various milestones in their mind. “It’s more apiring than funny.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I always do.”

“I don’t knowwww~” Vivica teases. Toni shrugs with a smile, rolling the last drop of line in his glass. “Guess I’m unfit to be your advisor.”

“Oh noooo. Out then Toni! You are offficaillylyly removed from the position of my advisor.” She shoves him. They both howl with laughter.

“It’s been a while since we had a moment like this, hasn’t it?”

“Indeed my queen, indeed.” To lay on her bed, giggling and snacking about nothing. Or at least something that wasn’t strictly work based. The last time was…. When they were kids. That day was rainy, puddles growing under every step and they decided to go under a bridge to play in mud. Vivica refused to let go of the frogs hugged in her arms, saying she rescued them and they would be the perfect guests and can provide everyone with “perspective” they were all missing. Besides leaping, ribbiting, laying eggs, camouflaging and hiding in mud.

Frogs are the signal for change or need for change. She was right then…. She was brilliant— she still is brilliant. Toni now would agree with then Toni’s agreement to whatever Vivica was declaring in that muddy shelter.

When they got back, they-

“You know, what? I want mushroom soup.”

“Now? At this time of night?”

“Yes, and I think some stars can help us too.”

She glides off the bed, already dusting her old dress into a different one, ready for mud and rocks and sticks and whatever else they find.

“It’ll be like old times.” She lets down her hair from her long cap. It drapes the floor. Toni shifts towards her. “We run into the garden’s mud, pluck them, come back here dirty, and make soup on the bed. It’s better when we do it and we do it-“ Enveloping Toni’s hands. “-together.”

She squeezes them with a toothy smile.

He swoons. He couldn’t help it. Call him weak, but who could resist the childlike wonder in her eyes? No one. Especially while dragged from her room giggling.

- - -

As usual Vivica was right about it being like old times. Mud cakes their hair and hands. Even then, Toni sighs fondly as she throws her bounty on the bed giggling. “You should of let me bring those frogs and beetles along. They deserve some soup too.”

The elegant, opposing, dutiful queen of witches, revered for her power and wisdom, is now reduced to pouting.

He brushes hair and mud away from her face. “Enough of that.” He couldn’t hide his smile. “I’ll get the soup, you get the stars.”

She blows raspberries at him. “If it was anyone else, I would of gotten those frogs.”

Her advisor scoffs, joking. “As if anyone would take my place.”

“As if I would let anyone, my dear Toni.” She swipes mud from his face. Her hand linkers for a moment, enough to feel the heat rise to them, before waddling over to the balcony.

She had picked out shiitakes, chanterelles and morel. Well, he could say he chose chanterelles to enhance morel’s flavor and a twinge of fruit sweetness.

With wind, mushrooms, lemongrass, onion, garlic cloves, and thyme take flight above him in a circle.

He calls the fire over, shaping it until it was feathery and plump as a chicken. The fire rose above him, swirling into a steamy cloud, raining chicken broth and water into the cauldron. In the meantime, Toni rubs his hands together, string form in-between them and he shapes a triangle grid. The mushrooms fall in, perfectly cut as they entered the swirling cauldron. The spices follow after.

The cauldron boils itself and its contents. Toni couldn’t help but chuckle as he sprinkles salt, pepper and flour. They were like this. She’s like salt & pepper, while he’s flour. Exciting, spice, almost always welcomed, and versatile. While flour was basic, reliable, clingy, and expected.

Both nevertheless essential and methodical.

She would probably say underrated but that doesn’t matter. He had a duty to do, be with her no matter what. As an advisor, friend, and whatever else they entails.

Vivica was at the window, doing what she does best. Calling upon magic, whispering hopes and dreams into the sky to inspire the stars to come down. Whispers from the sky fluttered down and took shape of starry yeast, the soft crackle that stretched the bread into star shapes.

He could watch them do that… forever. Maybe in a different life she would be the best baker ever. And he would be there. That bread smells good. And so does this soup. Toni inhales the earthy aroma brimming from under his nose. He waves the broth cloud away.

It was almost done. Just needing the queen’s final touches and the whipping cream cubes.

Vivica trots over with her bounty of bread, letting them follow and whisper to her.

“My part is done, Vi. You’re up.” She nods, taking out white and yellow cubes of from her sleeve. Five cubes of whipping cream are tossed and stirred into the soup. The two carefully spread the cheese on the bread, letting it melt and entangle itself within the bread, hushing the whispers with a sizzle and pop. It was ready….

-•-•-•-

“From old, we make something new.” She offers him the first bowl.

“And I am honored.” He bows his head, but they plucks his forehead.

“Don’t do that Toni, I’m not your queen right now. Just your companion.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sips the bowl.

The flavor, oh the flavor. Nutty and prominent yet a tangy citrus aftertaste before a satisfying meaty crunch between his teeth.

Why hasn’t he had this in years???? The spoon in the creamy delight, gathering a mushroom or two that bobs around in the metal’s embrace.

Toni sighs, pleased, the soup warms him to his core more than the fireplace could dream of. His queen hums in agreement. They sink into the curly duvet and silly pillows. The two scoot closer, shoulder to shoulder, a leg hanging over the other, her hair draped around him. “You blanket me better than the fire.”

“It’s only natural. You’re my advisor and most trusted companion.” She sips their own bowl. He wipes his mouth.

“And your best soup buddy?”

“And my best soup buddy.”

He kicks his feet a little, giddy. “Clarry would be so jealous to miss this.”

Vivica cheeses with him, taking a part of the cheesy bread. “Oh absolutely. If only she didn’t cancel our meeting earlier.”

“I suppose we can leave her a bowl in her capsule.” He shrugs, taking her half and dips it into the soup.

“Definitely.” Their grin curls into a smirk. “A little note too.” Toni gasps dramatically, hand over his mouth and everything.

“No need to be so devious.” He could see the glimmer in her eye, a chance to be mischievous is an opportunity to be seized.

She could only giggle, kicking her feet up.“But it’s so fun and wonderful.” Toni rolls his eyes playfully.

“Then I’ll indulge this one time.” Putting up a finger for emphasis. He looks away when she hugs his arm.

“You’re the best Toni, remember that.” He pats their head.

“I will, I will.” She sighs. He finishes his bread and takes another sip before grabbing her hand. Vivica squeezes his and they lay back together. The fire goes out and then ceiling glows warm and soft. She studies the ceiling, Toni studies her.

“Oh Morel, I love her and this mushroom soup.”

[xochimillilili]

Touchstarved and needy, all I can think of is how heavenly it'd be to work my knot into a small whiny sub, teasing and pushing them to their limits until they're groping and digging their nails into my back, my hips, my waist.

A stinging desperate hug as I fuck a load into their abused little fuck hole, kissing and biting at their lips. Wanna feel the taste of their blood and spit in my mouth as I tell them how good of a pet they are.

My precious pet, my beloved darling prey, stuck with me in pleasure and pain, while my knot keeps them stretched out, aching and moaning like a good slut.

Stuck under my weight, with my hands and claws all over, getting them dumb with sweet caresses and kisses, and aching scratches and pinches. Teasing cute and whined out "I love you"s and moans as I push myself in deeper <3

[piperjistic]

“Eh-ahem—“ The room goes silent. Heads turn attentively to the Royal Oracle. They stands in the middle, holding a paper they managed to scribble what they proclaimed down messily. They face the king sitting in the stand with his husband and child sit beside him.

“As the Royal Oracle, I provide a prophecy for every noble child born after they have acquired the basic skills of life. Therefore, it is time to foresee the future of the kingdom and announce for all to see.”

They’ve announced this almost hundred times. After all, they’re the Royal Oracle. They are stapled to all kingdoms applicable and other exceptions. The future is unexpected and can show something beautiful… Or ugly…. Or just bittersweet. Though for this young one, Dalo, King’s heir….. will have nothing of note accomplished in their lifetime.

This is the first, probably won’t be the last, but still the first, which will be unheard of. The kingdom doesn’t degrade, it mostly stays the same, which it isn’t bad. It’s good even. It’s just not impressive. If it was with anyone else, with a different king, then it would be fine. Though this one, had been boasting his child and it doesn’t help with gossip considering this was the first child ever made from two men using magic, blood, and technology. To disappoint, is… not optimal in the slightest.

The kid was nice, sweet, and genuine too. Curious and polite. No pranks or issues with them. But… doesn’t have much goal or direction…. But they’re a kid. Why expect so much from one who always greet them when they see them and shared treats when they could. So the Oracle didn’t want to disappoint the kid either. Or worse, break their heart. They speak once more.

“As a base…. They’ll prolong the life of the kingdom by almost a century, even after they do past the crown down.”

“Be a guide for a upcoming adventurer who will reward them with protection and gifts.” Finds a big cat and tame them as their pet.

“Provide so well that an era of peace will exist during their reign. Living improves for all, even for those surrounding the kingdom. They’ll replace the bases of the kingdoms with new stronger ones.” Has piping replaced and others will follow suit.

“Protect a habitat from ruin.” Water the old cook’s garden once they die….

“Mmmm….” They raise the paper up, there’s nothing else and it’s only been 30 minutes…! All the others were at least an hour, three max. There was a six hour one because of the three kids of one kingdom… Mmmm… Padding… Padding… Uh- Oh..!

“On the side, they provide orphans with homes, and decreasing the rate of orphans.” Adopt a few orphans. They adopt and others follow… again.

“Though the accomplishments may seem short,-“ They tuck away the list in their pouch. “…but these are big things that heir will provide for the people!” The Oracle smiles widely, a little too hard. They bow.

Dalo smiles up at his father. The king lips curve into a smile, satisfied, and pat their head. The Oracle stifles a sigh of relief.

“This pleases me, thank you Royal Oracle!” Everyone claps, cheering. The Oracle smiles, nodding and leaving. Their cloak flows behind them as they take quick strides out the door. With a hand wave, the sweat they carried was no more. They were already down the hall when they stopped. Footsteps pattered behind him quickly.

Dalo had followed them, grinning. “Hi.”

They sighed, turning to face the heir. They glance around, seeing and feeling no one insight. The kid steps forward readily as the Oracle kneels and pats their shoulder, pulling close and speak in a hushed tone.

“Hey, listen kid, I’m going to be honest. Don’t let any of this go to you’re head. You’ll do great as leader of the kingdom some day. Just do what you want to do and fix whatever needs to be fix. Don’t stress. That-“ They gesture behind them. “-was aIl formality and whatnot. I’ll probably be around when it happens, and can help you if you need anything…. If I’m not assassinated that is.”

Dalo hugs them, and pulls away just as quickly. “Thank you..! Hey! I wanna learn magic too! Pretty pleaseeee!”

As the Royal Oracle it is your job to write a prophecy every time a noble child is born. However when you are presented with the King’s Heir you foresee that they will achieve nothing of note in their lifetime. In order to keep the King happy you must predict something that sounds impressive.

[sukunasteeth]

Marks

Sukuna doesn't understand the hold you have on him.

He's never particularly been a people person. In fact, people annoyed him. This has held true ever since he was a child with his twin brother, Yuji. That is, until Yuji brought you home one fateful day in middle school, claiming to have met a new friend. 

You, with your sweet little smile, and your boundlessly generous heart. You with your giggle that chimes through his darkened soul like a golden bell. With the innocent rosy lips that he'd dreamed of having his first kiss with until high school, when it finally came to fruition. You had been irrevocably his ever since then, and it had been almost seven years.

So why does it still feel like you're the one with all the power here?

Why does it feel like you could create a monster out of him if you truly wanted to? Why does it feel like he's constantly at your beck and call? Why are you the one person on this green earth that reduces him to the feeling of an emotion as pathetic as helplessness?

"'Kuna...hurts..."

He'll admit, he takes it out on you.

Like now, when you're lying naked beneath him (his favorite spot to have you in) and begging him to take it easy on you. He's got you covered in sweat, exerting you to your ultimate limit. He loved to see you train until failure, after all. Adored the way your legs quivered when he relentlessly made you keep riding him, despite your exhaustion. Cooed at the way you begged him to be gentle, even though he knows you prefer it rough. You were quick to submit when he had you behind closed doors, despite how independent you appeared outside of them. Sukuna knew you better. Knew how much you loved following his direction. Receiving his praise.

You were lucky you were such a good girl.

Sukuna was torturing you now already, and you hadn't even disobeyed him. He can't imagine what he would do if you were unruly. Actually, he can. And the thought has him salivating even more as he sucks relentlessly at the nape of your neck. You're covered in marks from his teeth or the raw scrape of his tongue. Your throat has been tormented by his worship to the extent that he's even broken skin in the spots where he can feel your pulse beneath his lips.

Even Sukuna has to admit that you didn't deserve this abuse. You hadn't done a thing out of line, besides selfishly tearing the heart out of his chest for good. It was yours now.

The thought makes him growl against you.

God, you weren't even trying.

Your victory over him was so effortless.

It pissed him off.

He doesn't realize that he's bitten you particularly hard until you're suddenly recoiling away, burrowing yourself into his pillows with a small yelp. Your hand has sprung up to press your palm over Sukuna's mouth in some weak attempt at getting him to stop. Your other hand holds your throat as you purse your lips at him, which have also seen a good amount of Sukuna's biting that day.

You looked good in his teeth marks, what can he say?

"Are you mad or something?" You're blinking up at him like a confused little deer. Sukuna can't help that it makes him hungry. You were a perfect prey to him and he would be chasing you to the end of this lifetime. He could tell solely in the way that your stupid little nickname for him makes his heartstrings snap.

He takes a frustrated breath through his nose over your hand, nipping at your fingers over his mouth like a muzzled dog. Before you can pull them away, he's grasping your wrist tightly, his unforgiving grip a warning in itself. Easily, he pins it to the side of your head, rendering you halfway useless.

"Don't interrupt." He murmurs, his gaze burning into yours.

A helpless sob escapes you, but otherwise you stop trying to squirm away from him. You allow the onslaught to continue without a peep, bracing yourself each and every time a new hickey is being bruised into your skin. He doesn't offer you any words in terms of praise, but his grip on your wrist eventually loosens a bit. He never fully lets you go, though.

While he appreciates your cooperation, you eventually go almost too quiet and Sukuna thinks for a moment that maybe he's pushed you too far. He pulls away from your neck to look at you, finding your pink little face screwed up in an intense mixture of pleasure and agony. He feels a content smile spread across his face but it's cut short when his eyes hone in on your lips, which you're currently biting hard enough to draw blood from.

His free hand reaches up and grasps your chin, pressing his thumb below your bottom lip and forcing you to relinquish it. You blink slowly, your logical brain having exhausted itself up until this point. You easily let him pry your teeth apart, panting in his grasp. 

"Mouth. Open." He commands.

You squirm in your overwhelming frustration, whining. "It hurts, 'Kuna!"

Sukuna hums in a mock sympathy, watching you suffer with a satisfied grin. You would have these marks for weeks. There were so many now, some more intense than others, and he wasn't even close to being done with you.

"You're being cruel." You accuse, watching your own hardship twinkle back at you in the reflection of his eyes. Your pout is purple and bruised from your attempts to keep quiet. Sukuna leans in closer and presses the sweetest kiss to your lips, as soft as the brush of a feather.

What was cruel was the fact that you had broken down everything Sukuna had ever known about himself. His strength was putty at your feet. His hatred for the world was a joke in your presence. His pride, a mere memory at the touch of your fingertips against his soul.

"You think this is cruel?" He whispers, mocking you. His voice is the taunt of a devilish trickster. "I think I've been going too easy on you. Allow me to rectify that."

There really is no curse more cruel than love.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

thinking about roomie!suguru, who steps out of the bathroom with just a towel hanging loosely around his waist. it's dangerously low and his happy trail is... leading your eyes to a forbidden place. water droplets cascade down his temple and his neck, his scarred chest and his toned muscles.

he finishes drying his hair with another, smaller towel before slinging it over his shoulder. he gives you a warm smile. there's still a bit of sleep in his tired eyes but he looks fresh, he looks good.

(he looks more than good.)

the morning light shines in through the small window of your shared kitchen and he hums at the smell of coffee. you're an angel leaning on the counter, hands busy with preparing your drink as he steps inside.

he chuckles. he asked you a question but you didn't hear it. he smells so fucking good; the smell of his shampoo and his fancy conditioner wash over your senses and it's easy to forget where you are. his eyes flick behind you before walking over to you with a smug little grin.

he bores his sharp purple eyes into yours – he loves how you react to him. he doesn't shy away from it, he's cockier than he looks. he loves the attention, he loves to be in your spotlight. he wouldn't care so much if you were a stranger, if you were a random person on the street ogling away, ut you're neither of those things, are you? no, you're something else.

he exudes warmth as he towers over you, his head tilted down to keep his eyes on you. he wants to play with you a little – he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. eyes big and wide, lip tucked under between your teeth. he's good with people, he can read them like a book and you're no different. he sees you swallow a dry lump, he sees you grace him with a flustered smile as you try to brush by the fact that he caught you admiring him red handed. he sees the way you're taking deeper breaths than normal, surely just to keep your composure. he can't wait to break you.

his arm reaches behind you to turn off the coffee machine with a small click.

"wouldn't wanna make a mess this early in the morning, now would we?"

melting. crumbling. falling down to your knees. you hate how much he teases (you love it), you hate how patronizing he sounds (it's hot). he's the only one that can get away with it – a charming smile that hides his deepest desires of sinking his teeth into little lambs like you, soft eyes that hide the need to watch them unfold before him.

his gentle hands long to hold, long to keep and covet. he thinks about you a lot; your shared mornings and afternoons, your exhausted naps and bitter rants about your days. shy gazes and lingering touches, stupid jokes and the cute little hidden sounds he keeps hearing from your room in the late hours. he's being patient, he's warming you up.

he's just as infatuated with you as you are with him. he's just more subtle with it.

or is he?

because you've heard him, too.

you don't know whether he's doing it unknowingly or he's actually trying to make you go insane – whichever it is, you are ready to bend at his will. soft groans accompanied by a steady slick pump; you didn't mean to listen in. you just wanted to make sure he's okay!

ear against the wooden door, you listened to him think about you. your name was on the tip of his tongue, but it was too early for that. he wants to smear you with his honey, he wants to drag you in but he needs to wait for it. this is perfect.

he did know you're were there.

he heard the floor creak, he heard the cutest gasp that left your pretty lips. fuck, you're perfect. his head was lolled back as he stroked himself to the thought of your wide, doe-eyes. how flustered you'd be, how flustered you were in that very moment. he imagined your trembling hands and your stuttered words and his dick twitched in his palm.

he thought about inviting you in and just making him watch as a form of punishment, for being a little pervert. he shuddered out a laugh and watched a glob of pre-cum cover his own fingers before mixing with the saliva and spit that's covering him already. he thought about making you sit between his legs so he could jerk off right in front of your beautiful face, he thought about your wobbly lips, your teary eyes. the way your thighs would press together.

your fingers would itch and twitch and he'd make you place them on your legs. he wouldn't want you to touch. yet. maybe he'd make you apologize and maybe he'd make you kiss the tip. he thought about how good you'd smell, how good you'd taste. another raspy groan crawled up his throat and you were about to cum untouched behind his door. like a creep.

he loves it. he's proud of you, he wants to push you even further. he wants to see what else he can make you do. this is exciting and he can't wait to devour you whole as a reward after he's done bullying himself into your body and your mind. utterly loved and corrupted—

— you're meant for him.

[piperjistic]

*After another adventure with Blaze kids

CB huffs, watching his youngest brother bounce off the forest giggling as they travel home. “How the hell does Basil still have energy after that?”

Wolf arrives besides them, folding his arms and watching his other siblings go ahead. He responds as they walk the same pace. “They’re a kid, that’s just what kids are like at that age. Boundless energy and all.

Gidget stares, grimancing. She shakes her head and pushes pass them. “Orrr maybe you two are just getting old?”

“Hey! We’re only around 100 years older than you.” CB protests.

She raises a brow. “Yeah, old. I know.”

Person A: “How the hell do they still have energy after all of that?!”

Person B: “They’re a kid, that’s just what kids are like at that age.”

Person C: “Maybe you two are just getting old?”

[pipedreame]

I am such a slut for Danny having supernatural strength and being able to kill someone with a single slap because he’s used to fighting ghosts who are built Sturdy (and literally can’t die, that is very helpful in a sparing partner) so he has to learn such meticulous control when he moves to Gotham where he starts regularly getting into scuffles with humans who think he’s an easy target (he looks like he has the sturdiness of a wet newspaper) and the whole time he’s more stressed about not drawing the Bats attention by being too good or accidentally killing someone so he has to walk that fine line of acting like a scrawny loser and dipping out at his first chance without being clocked as a meta.

Danny, laying on the ground and getting kicked repeatedly by a thug: *tries to angle himself so the guy can kick out a knot in his back*

Danny: *deadpan* oh, ow, stop that hurts, oof

Robin, watching from the rooftop and recognizing the dramatics from the Supers: father there is a meta

Batman, also watching and having flashbacks to Clark’s earlier days: *so so tired and already mentally getting the adoption paperwork ready*