#younger gods

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Younger Gods: Epilogue 2 (Quiet Storms)

18+ Smut

Younger Gods Master List

Morpheus x Female/femme!reader (female parts described)

Summary: Morpheus and the storm god enjoy (and make) winter weather.

A/N: Happy holidays, my darlings! Please enjoy this filth, I mean fluff, I mean... fluffy filth? Again? The next epilogue will be something more than smut, I swear.

Quiet Storms

Pale as the snow crunching under foot, Morpheus appeared entirely inhuman. His shadows looked so dark against the white fields he could be a hole in reality. A living void. Perfect and impossible. But he walked hand-in-hand with her through her little realm, and human or otherwise, for the moment, he chose to be with her.

She belonged to him.

He belonged to her.

And they strolled together.

The day before, she went to see Taliesin in the waking world, and the scene outside his window glittered with fresh snow. Ice hung from gutters and streetlights. Sunlight shattered in countless, twinkling rainbows, caught in millions of crystals, and she couldn’t look away.

She woke to a few inches of snowfall carpeting her realm, and her Dream Lord came through the door just as she was tugging on her boots and mittens.

They stepped out into a snowy fog. Nothing properly fell, but the grey sky felt like a blanket trapping the coziest cold she’d ever felt. And it really was cold. Her nose and cheeks went numb quickly, and her eyes watered in the wind whenever she looked up to Dream. He was always worth it, though.

A dusting of flakes scintillated in his hair. He looked wonderful every day, of course, but she loved seeing him in her weather, with a little rain dripping from the messy tips of his wild hair or lightning reflecting in his eyes. Just now, he looked like he’d been gilded with powdered diamonds, almost whimsical.

He turned from the wonderland she’d created to meet her warm assessment, and there was nothing whimsical about the heat in his gaze.

When he looked at her like that – with his full, endless focus wrapping her up in his attention – she was so happy she couldn’t bear it. She looked away and bit her lip, giddy, heart trilling a note too high to hear but deeply felt, dancing out through her ribs, tickling her lungs until she couldn’t quite breathe right.

She knew what that feeling was called. It filled the name he’d given her, and like he could hear her thoughts, he bent to murmur in her ear.

“Beloved.”

Actual, proper snow manifested from the fog, big, fat flakes of it swirling down to stick on her exposed skin as his breath summoned goosebumps down her neck. She shivered from the prickling cold and the rush of warmth in her belly. Smiling lips pressed the cusp of her ear, earning another shudder, and Dream tugged her closer by their joined hands.

“You are chilled.” His smile carried into his tone, lending a teasing lilt to his dark voice. “I should warm you.”

Turning just enough to reach, she popped onto her toes to land a peck on his jaw. “I’d like that that.”

She let to of his hand to take his arm, cuddling into his side as they turned back towards the cottage, his care mingling with his pride, filtering into the air around them like one of his shadows. Snug, smug, and secure. A bubble of their own that was part him and part her and entirely apart. The snow fell thicker, catching in her hair and melting on her coat. A flake caught in his eyelashes, and she watched them flutter with quiet appreciation as he cleared his vision. Dream had such lovely eyes. Whether they were blue and nearly human or dark with a thousand stars, they expressed his feelings much better than his words usually did. Even when he tried to keep a straight face, to remain firm and aloof, she’d seen emotion fringe his lower lashes in tears, had seen amused sparks when he tried to appear strict.

Just now, they were very soft. Warm. Like the sun came out and agreed to stay through the night.

If he kept looking at her like that, he wouldn’t need to do much at all when they got home.

The instant the door closed behind them, he pulled the scarf from around her neck. He let the fabric drag along the sensitive scars, drawing her attention to the cool air on her bare flesh as the garment fell free. He loved her neck. Maybe it was the history, or maybe it was a pet project of his – teaching her to savor all the wonderful things he could inspire in her most vulnerable places when she trusted him. And she did trust him.

She trusted him so much she loved him.

The snow was melting, dripping down from her hair to run over her skin. Dream caught the rolling drops in open-mouthed kisses along her neck, and the stark contrast of cold and heat set her alight. She pressed into him, groaning as he set about warming her an inch at a time.

She’d had plans to offer him mulled wine when they returned, to sit and drink together in front of the fire as she thawed, which might lead to spice-laced kisses between warm lips and all the sweeter things that came after. Matthew told her once that his master sometimes drank wine in the waking world. It seemed like a good idea, a seasonal, festive thing to spark a different kind of fire, but none of it mattered as he started plucking at the buttons to her coat. If he didn’t fuck the capacity for higher thought out of her in the next hour or two, she’d revisit the idea later. Dream was on a mission, and she happily took up service as his guide, pulling her arms out of the heavy outer layer so he wouldn’t be tempted to take his lips off her neck.

He never needed encouragement. He barely even needed a suggestion. Since their first tryst that broke in the bedroom – Taliesin hadn’t let her hear the end of it for weeks – Morpheus took every opportunity to touch her. Deep kisses in greeting. Clasping hands or linking arms when they went out. Finding clever ways to get his hands under her clothes and onto her skin. Never exactly rushed, but always eager. Always hungry for her in any way she’d have him.

She wasn’t complaining.  

She didn’t have as much experience, and she lacked his confidence, but she felt the same. Every time he smiled for her, every time he pulled her in for a kiss, a part of her stopped to wonder. Me? Really? Are you really choosing me when you’re so wonderful? When I’m small, and you’re so grand it’s dizzying?

Happiness stunned her each time. She couldn’t worry over losing his affections because she was still in awe of winning them at all.

Coats off, boots discarded, mittens long since surrendered to a dark corner from which they may never emerge, the two moved towards the fire.

When he surrendered her throat for a kiss on the lips, he bumped her frigid nose and nearly startled. Long pale fingers brushed down her face as he pulled back, and he murmured, “You truly are cold, beloved. Come.”

Keeping one hand in hers, he pulled two blankets from the couch, arranging them in front of the fire. He would have her, but he would have her comfortable and well. He tugged her towards the nest before he even finished building it, but she stopped to open the hope chest in the corner – one-handed – to retrieve another, larger blanket, which she set to the side, ready to wrap around the both of them. His eyes lit in approval, and he pulled her down all the faster, eager to get her out of her clothes. She returned the favor. A dozen kisses interrupted their progress, but eventually they were both naked and protected from the growing chill by the furred cover she brought.

Morpheus drank her sighs and gasps like the wine she’d almost offered him. He arranged her in his lap with his fingers kneading her thighs as she straddled his, pressed chest to chest in the firelight. She kissed him just as eagerly, convinced she’d never have enough, that she’d burn alive with desire, no matter how much skin brushed over his, no matter how long he let her taste him.

Careful fingers slipped between her legs as his other hand came around her waist to keep her close. He didn’t break the kiss as he stroked along her drenched slit, following her as she jerked at the sensation. He made a meal of her moans when he circled her clit. Every whisper of friction set her alight, and she keened as granted the pressure her rolling hips chased. When she needed to breathe, he pulled back to introduce the kiss at a new angle. He barely left her at all, and only by millimeters. It rekindled her faith that he ached for her as badly as she craved him. That he found delight in her storms and her little cottage the way she lost herself whenever she so much as glanced in his eyes.

She had more freedom to move than she did in many positions they’d tried, when Morpheus hovered over her like an all-consuming storm, but Dream had lost none of his power. She was helpless as he toyed with her, slowly gathering slick, teasing her, and finally sinking a slow finger into her core. Her mouth fell open over his, soundless, and he plundered it as his finger continued its exploration. When he touched her, it wasn’t a preliminary exercise before he moved on to the main act. He studied her, searched out new shivers and groans, and he always took his time, enjoying the sensation as she fluttered along his fingertips, spasming against the brush of a knuckle or a curled digit.

He told her as much once, when she’d tried to hurry him along. At the time, she’d been convinced this part of her pleasure was an inconvenience, and she didn’t want to make him wait. He’d smiled down at her, the loveliest nightmare as she broke apart under his attentions, and asked, “You think this does not please me?” He ground his dick against her thigh as he continued working her through the aftershocks just to make his point.

With his finger buried inside her, moving slowly, she clung to his shoulders to steady herself. He’d never let her fall, not unless he wanted to shift her to a new position, but she needed something to touch, something to hang onto as every flickering nerve tried to explode. She felt almost too good with him, and while he never frightened her when they were like this, she scared herself a little. She imagined she’d unmake her own soul and he’d consume it by accident, or something would break because a person wasn’t supposed to climb such heights without crashing back down. True safety was a new concept, one he eagerly helped her understand, and each time he made love to her, she worried a little less.

A second finger crept inside, working her open as Morpheus pressed her closer, offering an answering groan through their kiss as she whimpered into him. She was close, and she suspected he read the signs of her impending release like a fortuneteller – in her trembling thighs, in her unsteady rhythm against the heel of his palm as it pressed against her clit.

“Let me feel you like this.” He spoke against her lips, still reluctant to put any distance between them. “Let me feel you.”

She had no defense against Morpheus’s voice. It swallowed the daylight so it could introduce the stars. It rippled over her skin like a velvet kiss, soothing, and urging, and flooding her thoughts. Enraptured and too far gone to stop herself anyway, she did exactly as he asked.

He kissed up her quivering sigh as she came, helping her navigate her way back to earth so she could melt against him. Turning her face into his neck, she took the opportunity to breathe. Woodsmoke, sweat, and sex filled the air. The hand on her back moved in broad circles, almost innocently compared to his other hand, which kept two fingers sheathed inside her.

Wind sent the windows shivering in the frames, and Morpheus kissed the crown of her head.

“Are you warm enough?” Sneaky fingers stroked deep inside, stirring banked embers to new life.

She looked up at him through her lashes, smirking, mimicking a look he’d often sent her as he drove her to fantastic distraction. Mischievous and far from sated. “Not yet.”

He hummed, answering her smirk with his own. “Good.”

The fingers left her, and something much larger nudged her entrance. He took a brief moment to coat himself in the fluid all but dripping from his fingers, and every bump and shift conjured unwitting little noises from her. Without asking if she had the stamina to ride him after her first orgasm – she did not – he picked her up by the hips and set her higher on his lap. As he lowered her, he pushed inside, stretching her open until their hips were flush.

His hands rubbed up her hips to her waist, curling possessively into the natural dip. When he found the grip he wanted, he began to move. A shallow thrust to ensure she was ready. A groan. A deep roll of his hips that drove him in to the hilt as he tugged her to meet him.

In this position she was a little taller than him, and he looked up at her like something wonderful. Regarded by stars, she felt her love returned. It moved between them, a silent song, and it grew in her chest like the waxing moon. Making her glow as he tenderly destroyed her.

She writhed with his rhythm, robbed of the breath she’d just caught, panting open-mouthed as his pace quickened.

The movement sent the blanket sliding from her shoulders. It gathered just over their joined hips, leaving her chest very naked and very close to Dream’s hungry gaze. His hands didn’t leave their grip on her waist, determined to drive himself even deeper as he leaned in to worship her breasts. Her nipples hardened long before she even joined Morpheus in their little blanket fort, but the cold air set them tingling, and Morpheus’s hot mouth sent rippling shocks of delight down her spine. She folded around him, breathless, cradling his head as her fingers caught in his midnight hair.

The fire crackling beside them might as well be ice. Heated flooded her veins, ready to combust as he thrust up into her.

“Morpheus.” Begging. A prayer. A promise.

He groaned into her chest, and her heart skipped a beat. Or he’d stolen it. The beat or the entire heart – impossible to tell.

Once she’d said his name, she couldn’t stop. It became a wild chant as she raced towards her second breaking point. “Morpheus.” She didn’t want to let go. “Morpheus.” She didn’t want to stop. “Morpheus.”

But he didn’t give her a choice. Somehow she found enough air to shout as she fell apart, and she took some satisfaction in drawing Morpheus with her over the edge. He always looked a little frantic when he came. He was so rarely out of control, and he chose to surrender that kingly command in these moments. With her. Inside her. A true lover who’d fallen in love with her long before he fell in lust.

They tumbled into the blankets together, still tangled up.

As Morpheus gathered himself and pulled out, he arranged the blanket back over them, and she nuzzled shamelessly into his chest. Warm and content at last.

He chuckled, arranging an arm around her so she wouldn’t roll away when she inevitably dozed.

“It occurs to me, Beloved,” he said, “you might’ve wished your realm cold as an excuse to be close.”

What a thought. She liked it.

“Mm.” She rubbed her cheek over his pale skin, just as warm as she was, and she hoped just as happy. “And if I did?”

If she had, it wasn’t intentional, but now he’d gone and given her ideas.

He smiled, kissing the tip of her now-toasty nose in the softest gesture he could muster. “Then perhaps you should try snowing us in.”

[hinamie]

10 years later

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

This week's Discord Prompt!

JJK X OHSHC

Find @cocoabell drawing here

[manicsadoll]

All i need ♡

[saragrosie]

I have been sketching. So much tma. Here's some expansions on my Jon and Martin designs I've been doing.

Another note I forgor to mention is I love how after hearing Simon go "it's enough to make your hair turn white" about Martin's office in s4 many of us collectively agreed his hair turned white because of his association with the Lonely. The shared consciousness is real and we use it to play hot potato with the communal brain cell dedicated to the sillies.

Closeup of apocalypse boyfriends (also to the person who said they love my s5 Jon's fancy white girl updo: I think about that every day)

[lizzygrant17]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

He is at his limit.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[kailysander]

The Left Hand of Darkness

[thedawningofthehour]

On Splinter and Colors

I know we all joke about Splinter giving the red-eared slider the nickname Blue and I agree that it is indeed a peak troll dad move, but consider-

This is what we see of the baby turtles in Goyles Goyles Goyles

And this is the same picture put through a colorblind filter showing protanomaly, or red deficiency

Through deuteranomaly, green deficiency

And through protanopia, total red blindness

Yeah, makes sense why Leo might be Blue.

(there's green blindness and blue deficiency/blindness as well, but Leo's eye bananas still looked red in those)

If you haven't gotten to high school physics yet or have forgotten that lesson: we have three cones in our eyes that respond to light of different wavelengths, perceiving the color red, green, and blue respectively. All the colors you perceive are a mixture of these cones receiving light and yelling at you. (except for purple, purple's kind of weird) (as is black and white, and magenta, and-there are a lot of non-spectral colors, actually) Color blindness occurs when one or more cones is bad at its job or not working, resulting in the eye having difficulty perceiving that wavelength or not being able to see it altogether.

Now, considering he did give another child Red, he most likely can tell some shades apart. So I doubt he's completely red-blind. But it's very possible that he's red-weak or green-weak colorblind and literally saw Leo as having blue stripes as an infant, because they were in a shade he had trouble seeing.

This could also explain why he wore yellow-tinted glasses. They might have literally helped him see better by filtering everything to a wavelength he could see more comfortably at.

But, you ask, why didn't the name 'red-eared slider' tip him off? Splinter's not a native English speaker. He's fluent, but it's his second language and it is very different from his first. English is a confusing and often contradictory language, so even if he realized that red-eared was meant to refer to the markings around their ears that were red-well, what does he know? English came up with all sorts of weird, misleading names for things. The black mamba isn't actually black, goldfish can come in all sorts of colors, and there's a frog called the mountain chicken. Who is he to argue?

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Younger Gods Epilogue 3 Gif Teaser

Added DoorDash to my roster of jobs, have several articles due this week, and dealing with the regular mess of anxiety and depression, so you're all getting a gif trailer for the first of the birthday stories to tide you over (pls don't abandon my slow ass :().

The winner of the birthday vote was a Younger Gods epilogue, so I proudly present:

Delirium's Gift

[invader-reggie]

Someone revive the reverse falls fandom

Reverse Falls BillFord when???

I want some toxic possessive Stanford this instant.

My man deserves to be the unhinged "YOU ARE MINE" one in the relationship after all the shit Gravity Falls Ford got from Bill.

[jollymalt]

the animal crossing drawings are continuing!

[princessdoll2222]

and double my age ;)

[grumpyghostdoodles]

Frisk: "Oh, so you make fun of Asriel for not telling humans apart very well, but then you go and do this? Shame on you"

---------------

The character design for the new kid of "The Fairly OddParents: A New Wish" is so unintentionally hilarious. Hazel looks like a very sweet kid, and retired Cosmo and Wanda was a nice surprise, but holy shit out of all the fandoms they could accidentally reference, im wheezing

[desert--moonchild]

Maddie wasn’t snooping.  

She honestly wasn’t.

She really was just trying to be a good big sister and help her brother and future brother-in-law out by dropping off a package for Buck that had been sent to her house due to cheaper shipping (“why is it like twenty bucks cheaper, you live twenty minutes away”). Buck and Tommy’s place was on her daily commute to the dispatch center and it just made sense for her to take the package over to them since neither of them had the time since coming back from their weekend getaway to Vegas two weeks ago.

Both of them were on shift but she still had a house key from when she’d been watering their plants while they were gone.  So it should’ve just been a quick in and out and she’d be on her way home.

And then she stopped and got the mail.  See she really was just trying to be a good big sister— truly, she was.  The mailman had been pulling away from the curb as she pulled up and in the spirit of being helpful she stopped by the mailbox to grab their mail.  

And out of habit in grabbing her own mail she started flipping through it as she set the package down on the table in the entryway.

And that’s when she saw it.

The envelope.

The return address was a P.O. Box from Las Vegas, Nevada with it addressed to Mr. Evan Buckley and Mr. Thomas Kinard of Los Angeles, California.

And printed in big black lettering across crisp white paper, right above Buck and Tommy’s names.

REGARDING MARRIAGE DOCUMENTS

Maddie stared at it.

And then she stared at it some more.

She put the mail down in the mail bowl and blinked, scrubbed at her eyes to make sure she just didn't have something in her eye and blinked again. She picked the envelope back up and stared at it again. 

Yup— still there. 

MARRIAGE

She put the envelope back down and hummed for a few moments before she pulled out her phone and pulled up Buck’s name.

Maddie:  Hey… when you went to Vegas, did you happen to get married?

Buck responded back almost instantly.

Buck:  …

Buck:  why would you think that???

Maddie quickly snapped a picture of the envelope and sent it back to him.

Buck: oh

Buck: uh… hahah surprise?

[shih-coulda-had-it]

One for All Band AU! Generation 1. Banjo's talking about fight night (code for "We are vigilantes disguising ourselves, but really effectively, as a rock band") which Toshinori enthusiastically wants to participate in. Torino and Bruce are gossiping.