hoppygirlbrews

[vb-realmstrider]

"I remember it clear as the South Sellish waters; it's not a day that any of us could forget. It was like any other, 'side from the ominous storm blown' in to port. All started with that ship and 'er damn cargo; "we can control it" they said, "impossible for it to escape the cage." They lied, though, that should be obvious to you. 'Twas one of them abominations of Geldan. One of the biggest I've seen, with claws long and sharp as a dagger, and wings as wide as a person is tall, and an oily hide of leather… Still haunts us who saw it to this day…"

A distant look fell across the Portmaster's face as he uttered those last words. "How did the Geld-Beast escape?" I asked, "I've read through all the available reports, but they're all vague and don't mention much."

The Portmaster jumped, as if he forgot I was there. "I was getting to that part lass, be patient." He shook his head, "youngins these days, always in a rush" he mutters. "I was close when it happened, though I still don't rightly know what 'appened. One moment the beast was snug in the cage, the next it was standing tall and free and releasing a soul chilling screech towards the 'eavens, already covered in the blood of the sailors moving the cage. That's when the rain and thunder started. All I could do was scramble away and scream for help. Not my proudest moment, but what else could I do?" He looked down, ashamed, before his face turned grave and serious. "The port guard arrived first, but were useless. None lasted three seconds" he whispered. Turning to look at me, he continued "The port archers atop the walls were next. They sighted the threat quick, but were of no help either. Best they could do was sound the alarm before dying. The rest of the port garrison was not much better, but least they kept the devil from attacking us citizens and bystanders. Didn't last long though; had no way to defend against impalement from that cursed beast. All that could be 'eard was the ungodly screeches of the creature and the screams of the dying. All that could be seen was corpses brutally ripped apart and half dead men with their guts spilling out and laying in large pools of blood and viscera. 'Least the heavy rain washed away some of the sight, and the strong thunder covered some screams… Course, things did change for the better eventually, else we wouldn't be 'ere now. SHE turned the tide single handedly. Took 'er damned time, but the Fortress Commander finally showed 'er face. Commander Zephyr emerged from the portcullis, and it seems as everything froze, and everyone stared at her. Even the devil paused. She walked down the road clad in 'er customary deep blue brigandage, giving the demon a glare that could freeze the sun. Brimming with visible, barely contained wrath, she wordlessly summoned 'er rapier and slowly raised it up to the demon in challenge. The beast screeched in response, but as fast as lightning, the Commander launched 'erselfe into the sky and sheared off one wing. The devil 'ad no time to react before it was sent to the ground, screaming in pain. Zephyr landed smoothly and gracefully, having summoned her greaves and boots while in the air. The two stood there then, staring and sizing the other up. The beast let loose another fell scream and charged, aiming a slash at the Commander's sword arm, but she effortlessly parried and dodged away. The beast gave chase and kept slashing and kicking and jumping at 'er, but she was always a step ahead blocking and dodging out of 'arms way. Thunder clapping each time blade and claw clashed. Before I knew it, the Commander had danced in a large circle around the beast, while it ended up in the same place it crashed, having gained no ground. Looking closely, I could see thin lines cut into the stones; she must 'ave cut them faster than the eye can see while dodging around. The demon took a quick step, as if to start charging again, but stopped and tilted it's 'ead curiously. Zephyr 'ad dropped 'er blade and let it melt to mist. Arcs of lightning started dancing quickly 'round the Commander's body as she addressed the beast."

"You have killed my soldiers. You have killed my friends." Zephyr said, filled with rage, "You have killed my pupils. And you have spilt all of their blood right in front of me, in the doorway of my own fortress. I demand retribution, and I WILL have it. May the gods judge you harshly and cast you back to Geldan's domain."

The Portmaster continued, with a wicked grin on his face. "After those words, the lightning flickering around 'er grew strong and bright. The Commander stomped a foot down on the lines she cut, and the gods threw down a massive bolt of lightning on the demon, at least fifteen feet wide and strong enough to melt the stone. The clap of thunder was strong 'nough to nearly deafen the entire island. Needless to say, the gods were as harsh as expected, and nothing of that foul beast was left, save the wing our Commander cut off. If you're lucky enough to get an appointment, you can find it mounted in 'er office, behind 'er desk and just to the side. Makes it seem that the wing is 'ers, and is a mighty intimidating sight."

[appoarsin]

Happy Birthday, Me!

As part of my yearly milestone project I do, I've decided to make my 2024 entry in Blender 4.1!! Maybe next year I'll animate one? Who knows!

[forthedancingandthethriving]

(I d e a s.)

TW: Blood, injury, and death

○●○

"Shit-!"

Tama let's out a muffled cry as she's dropped to the muddy ground. The cloth around her muzzle is stained with both blood and now mud too.

She wriggles in her binds the best she can to sit upright. Mud and rainwater cling to her fur as she squints, head throbbing and vision blurry.

It had all happened so fast. Some random Cats had broken into her room, grabbed her, and ran.

Tama didn't know whether to be annoyed or upset, considering this was becoming a slow recurring theme. Cats were taking her a lot more often now. Word was slowly getting out she was from the long forgotten Aire Village, and they were known for their strange affinity for magic. Among.. other things.

"Found you." The voice of Dolion hisses. There's two pairs of footsteps.

"I'm going to make you wish that it was Valiant who found you first."

"W-Wait? Cozbi?! Is that-?!"

Tama squeezed her eyes shut, and it felt as though someone was covering her ears.

Do not open your eyes, kit. The wind whispers to her. Do not open them.

She doesn't. She doesn't open her eyes to see Dolion cut down the kidnapper's body. She doesn't hear how he snarls.

She does, however, feel as she's picked up.

The paws move from her ears, and Arthur whispers, "you can open your eyes, Tama."

Tama doesm. Arthur is smiling down at her, his cream-colored fur gently catching the light. He presses his nose to her forehead. "You aren't hurt, right?"

She shakes her head before pointing to the cloth around her muzzle. He blinks in surprised before carefully cutting it off. With a soft hum of a spell, the cuts and bruises on her were gone too.

"What happened to the other bad guys?" Tama asks softly.

Arthur doesn't look down at the blood mixing with the mud. "They're all taken care of. Do you know why they took you?"

"They said something about getting paid.." She remarks softly.

He nods. "Sleep. We'll be back at the castle soon."

The kit nods and rests her head on his chest, closing her eyes. He watches her closing, before the Flamepoint cat turns his head.

His ears lower a bit, seeing Dolion standing over the one body and the few others he had cut down when the first dropped Tama. The brown and white Ragamuffin cat's grip on his sword was trembling.

"They knew your old name." Arthur spoke softly.

"Someone back in Devos employed them." Dolion finishes his thought, turning his head.

Silence hangs for a moment before Dolion kneels down, plucking an emble off of one of the kidnappers. He frowns.

"What.. is this?"

Arthur approaches and his ears pin back.

The emblem seemed to be golden, but it was far too yellow and orange. Carved into it was something clearly.. not a cat. It’s muzzle was too long, and it maw was wide open. It was standing on four legs, fur bristled.

".. terrifying." Arthur whispers, tail bristling.

Dolion pockets it before sheathing the sword he held. "Lets get going. Valiant's going to what to know what happened."

"Do you think she'll be upset?" Arthur frowns as the two begins to walk. "That we just killed them?"

"No." Dolion answers matter of factly. "You know she won't."

He nods softly, and his tail gently wraps around Dolion's. He smiles as his partner's does the same.

○●○

He kneeled before the queen, wrists bound behind his back. Commander Valiant held the tip of her sword to his neck, but her face was conflicted. Arthur stood by the queen's throne as Queen Melody looked down with a slight frown.

"You were desprate." The queen of Luminos finally spoke. "You wouldn't have taken King Umbra's bounty if you weren't."

It was silent before he spoke. ".. You're right. We're all desprate." He laughed coarsely. "I thought that, 'hey, here's a chance to get out of this hellhole'."

He hung his head more. "And, even if I fail, I'll die. I won't have to stay there anymore."

Valiant's eyes had softened the smallest bit. "Who did you work for?" The commander still demanded.

".. the group has no name." He admitted. "But, sometimes, we go by the Teeth in the Dark. It's what the Cats in Devos call us."

".. what is your name?"

"Cozbi."

Queen Melody frowned. "If Arthur hadn't stopped you from putting that poison in my tea, would you have still done it?" An unknown emotion crossed her eyes. "Or.. would you have drank it yourself?"

The silence hung in the air. His answer was apparent.

"Valiant, step away from him."

The commander nodded, and she took those steps back. The heels of the queen clacked as she descended the stairs. Soon, she kneeled in front of her would-be murderer.

Gently, she cupped his face to make him look at her. Gently, she brushed a finger over his fur.

"Be one of my retainers," she offered, "and I will offer you protection from Umbra. This incident will never be spoken of. I'll make it seem like you disappeared." Queen Melody smiled gently. "You'll be safe here."

His throat had felt so dry, that day.

And yet the tears had fallen when he said yes.

○●○

Cozbi. "A liar, sliding away."

Dolion. “to deceive,” “to lure craftily,” “to use deceit” or “to lie.”

To outsiders, the name seemed almost identical. But not to Dolion. This new name was not only his way to atone, but to till do what he did best. Lie, to keep himself safe. But now, it extended to those he cared about.

Entering the palace, he merely smiles as Nimbus and Ambrosia rush up, with the Songbird taking the now sleeping kit from Arthur's arms.

"They're getting bold." Queen Melody remarks as she approaches. From behind, the familiar sound of metal clanking as Commander Valiant approaches is also heard. "This is the first time they did a kidnapping."

"That, and someone from Devos did it." Dolion narrows his eyes.

"Devos?" Nimbus's fur bristles. "How do you know?"

"Their accents, and.. this." He takes the emblem out of his pocket. From the way it was made, it was clearly from Devos. There craftsmanship was undeniable.

But the animal..

"That's some sort of canine." Nimbus frowns.

"Canine? Like those strange animals SMG8 sometimes has?" Valiant tilts her head

The Avatar nods. "Sort of, yeah. But it's really hard to tell what this one is.."

"Regardless, I'll bring this up with King Damien next time I see him." Melody sighs. "I thought the cats of Devos were happy under his rule! By Bliss, I'm going to get gray furs at this rate.."

Dolion frowns as he looks at the emblem.

He didn't know why.. but he had a sinking feeling that this wouldn't be the last time they'd see this symbol.

[timetoprey]

“.. wait Am I stupid ??!”

[soulslayer2020]

Pokémon Legends Roadmap

Esther:

After falling from the sky with no memories and a strange device giving her the goal of 'seeking out all Pokémon', Esther Dea finds herself in the land of Hisui: a land of an adjusting people, bickering clans, ancient ruins, and powerful Pokémon. With her partner Pokémon at her side, will she complete her mission and fill the Pokédex? Will she uncover the truth behind her missing memories as well as the mystery surrounding the strange rift atop the mountain? And most importantly…will she be able to figure out who to trust in this strange new world?

Venus:

Create a better world for all. That has been Venus Somnium's goal since joining Team Galactic. After being promoted to Commander (with a little help from her big sister, Rhea), Venus has found herself plagued with strange dreams and has begun having doubts about Team Galactic's goals. What are the purpose of these strange dreams, and do they have something to do with the strange pendant she received as a child...?

Zephyr:

Zephyr Beaufort is an archaeologist and mythologist with a love of ancient legends and stories. Her current obsession: the origins of what she calls the 'Avatar Phenomenon': humans said to be blessed by Legendary Pokémon. But while following a lead relating to the Legendary Pokémon of Hoenn - Groudon and Kyogre - Zephyr has found herself caught up in a clash between Team Aqua and Team Magma; two teams to strive to use the power of the Legendary Pokémon for their own goals. But there is more than meets the eye when it comes to these two teams. What are the secrets behind the great beasts of land and sea?

Nori:

The newest member of the Ultra Recon Squad, Nori has been chosen to travel to the Alola region alongside her teammates Dulse and Zossie in an attempt to find a method of defeating Necrozma for good and restoring light to their world. However, life in Alola seems more complicated than she thought. And with the Aether Foundation acting a little shifty in her eyes, can Nori overcome her timidness and find her voice. Also what's with the oddly laid-back Team Skull girl who seems to know more than she lets on...?

Umbra:

Cheeky, sarcastic and haughty on the outside but caring, friendly and loyal on the inside, Umbra Caelo is the newest addition to the Team GO Rocket leaders. A talented inventor with a head full of old stories, Umbra is fascinated by Shadow Pokémon and seeks to improve them by creating 'naturally-occurring Shadow Pokémon'...whatever that means. But with Umbra constantly butting heads with the equally prideful and stubborn Arlo, and Umbra's secretive nature not helping the matter, will they get anywhere with this plan? And what exactly is Umbra hiding in that family shrine of hers...?

Cordelia:

Being a retainer isn't easy. Being the retainer and right-hand woman of Prince Lear is even harder. Cordelia, however, is a kind soul who has known Lear since childhood and only wants one thing: to see Lear happy again. While she may not be a skilled battler - especially with her Diancie being even shyer than she is - she still tries her best to help where she can. Though when you're a shy and timid girl and your job is to reign in a stubborn and arrogant prince, it's not exactly a walk in the park. Especially when his Pokémon is a mischievous djinn that loves to play pranks every chance he gets...

[seattlesellie]

Reader getting a little embarrassed bc Ellie's strap won't fit?

Sorry of that's too much

perfect fit. ♡

screaming crying losing my mind. what a perf excuse to use “ill make it fit”

She’d be on top of you, forehead lightly pressed onto yours. You feel her pouty, somewhat chapped lips ghosting over your own, then lightly and delicately pecking the corner of your mouth. It’s one of your favorite types of kisses, makes you melt into the mattress, heavenly sigh, tremble within her touch. The warmth of her breath caresses your skin, a gentle zephyr of intimacy, of being so close. She looks at you so fucking intently, concentrated, fixated, scarred brows knit together and god, you love that little serious line that forms in between them.

The best way to describe her gaze, the most accurate one, would be to say that she looks at you as if she’s studying, genuinely attempting to take in every little gasp that you let out, eager to decipher every subtle nuance of your existencet, every single blink of your eyelids.

Ellie lowers her hand down from your cheek to the base of her strap on, caressing it upon your soaking, gushing slit. When you moan as a result of its bulbous tip hitting the hood of your clit, then your clit itself, Ellie smirks like an asshole. "I can just keep going like that if you want me to”, she whispers, meaning she knows she could make your pussy cum from just rubbing her cock all over its folds. You shake your head no, because as much as you know that it’s true, you yearn for her inside of you, for that intimacy of getting fucked deep with something she treats as if was her own. Ellie chuckles. “What do you want then, babe?” she coos lowly, continuously hitting that sweet spot above your clit that makes you whine, and her grunt.

You attempt to grab the back of her neck and bring her closer to you, to push her in somehow, but you’re too overwhelmed by everything, your hand ends up falling on the mattress and landing with a small thud. You whine, “Ellie…”, she smirks, moistening her bottom lip and slightly pushing the tip in, so it hangs juuuust a tiny bit away from being inside of your hole. “Inside?” she murmurs, never failing to add that teasing “yeah?” of a raspy coo.

You eagerly nod, she loves it when you do that — so fucking pliant, she stops you mid nod for a kiss that leaves the two of you breathless, tongues dancing a nasty, wet, sinful rhythm within the realm of your hot mouth. She leaves your lips with a loud smack. Your lips are swollen, a pout that kills, how could she ever concentrate on something else in her life?

She’d be absolutely lying if she said she didn’t have daydreams (and nightdreams) of your tight cunt stretched out by her cock, of seeing that pretty clit poking and peaking from the top of your pussy, of watching and taking in the sight of the stretch, the way it’ll slide up and down so easily because of how wet you get.

Unfortunately, Ellie did not take the tightness of yourself in consideration. She picked and packed a nine incher, deep blue and veiny, a bold choice, a goddamn cocky one.

You grab her sleek bicep and dent her skin with your nails, she hisses. You’re actually soaking, a pretty clear pool of heavenly nectar formed on the bedsheet, inside the seam of your ass. Your tiny whimpers are shaky and breathy and ever so desperate, egging Ellie on. “please…” you beg even under no command to do so. “Want it that bad?” teases Ellie, but with how desperate she has become, it sounds more like a plea, begging to please tell her how bad.

“need it inside, ellie, n-need you inside”

"Mhm", she hums softly, eyelids descending languidly, surrendering to the ecstasy of hearing your voice. “M’gonna fuck you” — god, you love it when she tells it like it is.

Pampering your cheeks with desperate, wet little kisses like raindrops, she pushes the tip in further, but… it won’t go inside. It’s blocked, your narrow hole begins to burn, redden, eyesight going out of focus, everything fading into a hazy abstraction. “Babe, it won’t…” she murmurs and attempts to fuck herself inside again. “Fuck, t'wont go in”

Your heart quickens its rhythm, a pulsating drumbeat beneath your chest, as you instinctively shut your eyes and, with a mix of embarrassment and restraint, gently bite down on your lip. You spread your thighs even further, attempting to somehow give her more space for movement, she pushes in again, you wince. “Owh, Ellie… owh”

You don't quite know if you're more embarrassed, or more pissed off. Your hole pulsates and yearns for a taste of her dick, but it hurts, and this feeling bubbles up inside your chest — This actual fear of disappointment, of not being good enough like her previous partners, of being or feeling too fragile, too inexperienced. You can't help but scan your eyes over her face, looking for a sign that will tell you that you're right, that you have disappointed her or worse, but before you manage to find it —

“Ffffuuuhck” she exasperates breathily. She strokes your cheeks with her thumb, a worried expression on her face. Her eyes dart over your form, muscles of her jaw tightly clenched. "Don't wanna hurt you", She murmurs and her voice is so sweet, "Can jus' use my fingers, yeah?"

“No, please" you sob, "I’m— fuck, i’m too tight!” your voice is a whine, an actual tear leaking from the corner of your eye, chin wobbling. Ellie’s so fucking torn because poor you, and she knows it hurts — she doesn’t want to hurt you, ever — but hearing those words fall from your lips… it’s hard not to buck her hips inwards and make you take it, miss “too tight”

“This is so… m'sorry” you actually sob, sniffling and avoiding her loving gaze, and maybe if you’d look — instead of letting your embarrassment wash over you and be a murky presence in your mind, your tears might have faltered. “S’not gonna fit”, your chest heaves. Ellie wipes a tear away — from your cheek, from the corners of your eyes, she considers comforting you, telling you to never apologize for anything, ever again, but she's sensible and rational and knows what do to next, to actually stop your tears from falling.

“babe?”, she huskily murmurs. You hum back, holding onto another choked sob.

“I’ll make it fit”

“Know I will”

[hyvyinjie]

CHANCE.

TW! implications of death.

bittersweet! melancholic

t. muichiro x f. reader

graciously requested by @muuumuiiii ! thank you so much for requesting, you sweet lovely lad<3

who would have anticipated it? the mist hashira, of all individuals, displaying a concern that surpassed anyone else's for you—the spirit pillar; a warrior whose technique came at the steep cost of a gradual erosion of your life.

THE MOON; THE BRIGHTEST PEARL SUSPENDED IN OUR VELVET SKY THAT FLOODED THE INKY DARKNESS WITH ITS SILVER GLOW.

a radiant disc it was. casting its ethereal glow upon the shadows of the night, while also heralding the relentless onslaught of a few infamous entities—demons.

a symbol of hope, this pale sentinel embodied a goddess-like presence, standing as a timeless guardian, observing the earth with an unwavering gaze as warriors valiantly battled the monstrous creatures scattered throughout.

above, the luminous orb commanded the vast expanse of stars, illuminating them all. yet, even in this peaceful night, two particular slayers found themselves immersed in the serenity, although one seemed burdened by a more pressing concern, far beyond the tranquility itself.

in a world where such creatures roamed, the perfect harmony would remain elusive.

thus, what purpose did survival serve if death constantly loomed, a persistent visitor at one's very doorstep?

well, the purpose of life is to be happy. or at least, that's what this young man believed.

said boy possessed an acute understanding of this belief, as if it had become ingrained in the very fabric of his being—an awareness that, perhaps, bordered on the excessive.

the sheer ecstasy of savoring every moment of existence, embracing its essence in its entirety, was undeniably a remarkable achievement—a feat that deserved to be celebrated with fervor.

thus, he found himself utterly incapable of comprehending—indeed, he never had—how she could nonchalantly dismiss the imminent cessation of her own existence, as if it were a trifling matter. the weight of her disregard for her own life gnawed at him, like a persistent ache that defied understanding.

..then again, had he been any different?

"—and…now you’re spacing out, again.”

ah, the sound of that melodious voice; both longed for and dreaded, resonated within him and snapped him out of his reverie. even though he had incessantly poured out his thoughts to her since he awakened from his coma, with her faithfully by his side, deep in slumber—despite her own exhaustion—she had remained.

as your words echoed in his ears, he shifted his gaze to meet your own—and oh, those eyes.

he would give anything to forever witness his own reflection in the depths of your eyes.

in a mesmerizing dance, your gazes intertwined; an exquisite tapestry woven with delicate threads of connection.

he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnificence of your irises—their majesty akin to rare crystalline treasures, gleaming beneath the majestic canopy of the nocturnal sky.

as a gentle zephyr whispered sweet nothings, its delicate touch caressed their beings, a tender embrace from the invisible hands of nature. he watched, his eyelids descending to a half-closed state, surrendering to the enchanting symphony of the night.

the breeze, like a playful sprite, felt as if it alone, could carry away his worries and sorrows, dispersing them into the velvety darkness.

yet, amidst this reposeful tranquility, a question lingered in the depths of his soul, an enigma that remained elusive and enigmatic.

it was one of the few riddles that continued to elude his grasp, an enigmatic puzzle that defied comprehension, regardless of whether he had regained his former self or not.

why, he pondered ever so deeply, did your well-being hold such profound significance to him?

why did his heart ache with an inexplicable yearning to protect you, to ensure the radiance within you remained untouched by the shadows of the world? it was as if his very purpose revolved around safeguarding your light, shielding it from the encroaching darkness threatening to dim its brilliance.

no, he never intended to diminish your worth in any way.

on the contrary—he understood, with a profound certainty, that you’re fully capable of caring for yourself alone.

yet, despite his awareness, a veil of mystery draped over his consciousness—that of a delicate wisp of mist teasing the boundaries of his understanding. it remained tantalizingly close, yet perpetually out of his reach, an enigma that eluded his grasp.

similarly elusive was the faint, almost imperceptible yet weighty pang in his heart each time his gaze flickered to your bandages that dressed your wounds.

he struggled to fathom its origins, to decipher the emotions that coursed through him with every glance. was it concern, fear, or something different altogether?

of course, he chastised himself for overreacting. after all, you were healing, weren't you?

...right?

at least, that was the relentless mantra he repeated to himself, like a haunting melody, a lullaby of self-deception.

perhaps it was a lie he constructed, a defense mechanism to shield himself from the harsh reality. deep down, he knew all too well that you were pushing yourself to the brink, sacrificing fragments of your own well-being to save countless others from the clutches of death.

how he yearned to tell you—to implore you—to cease using the very essence that slowly, yet inexorably, eroded your own vitality. the desire to shield you from the self-inflicted harm, consumed him.

yet, who was he to stand in your way?

who was he to dictate how you should pursue your purpose—your solemn vow? who had the right to demand that you discard the only technique you knew, as if acquiring a new skill were a trivial matter?

perhaps, for you, it had maybe once been a tangible option—a plausible alternative.

however, it clashed with the very reason why you chose to persist in wielding the power of spirit breathing, despite its unfortunate and devastating toll on your own being.

it was a conundrum that weighed heavily upon his soul, yet another conflict that tugged at the frayed edges of his limited understanding.

then, abruptly—his consciousness snapped back to reality, like a fragile dream shattered by the gentle sweep of a waving hand.

in that instant, the symphony of your voice, a sweet and melodious tune, graced his senses once more, stirring his spirit from its slumber.

"hello? earth to tokito?"

your words danced in the air, adorned with a delicate blend of amusement and genuine concern—whilst he, silently observed your actions. his gaze lingering for a fleeting moment, as if capturing the essence of your graceful movements.

soon enough, his eyes blinked, like a dormant star awakening to illuminate the night sky, as he finally stirred from his reverie.

with a subtle tilt of his head, he emitted a soft hum—a melodic expression that intertwined intrigue and acknowledgment in response to your beckoning. the notes of his hum danced through the air, a secretive melody that conveyed both his curiosity and the recognition of your presence.

meanwhile, you watched him with an internal sigh of relief.

the young man, whom you had believed to be forever lost in the bewitching realm of his perpetual daydreams, had returned to the realm of the present. the transformation within him, from introspective to effervescent, had you spellbound, never failing to leave you even in but a speck of awe, of these rare moments of clarity that graced his being.

"seems like someone's finally awake."

a faint smile blossoming upon your lips, akin to the first delicate bloom of a spring flower. lowering your hand with graceful grace,

you adjusted yourself to a more comfortable position beside him on the edge of the engawa outside the butterfly manor—a perch where you and him had been leisurely spending time together, without a care in the world, rambling on about. relishing in the comfort in one another’s presence—like a normal pair of souls basking in the way of life.

"you’ve been staring at me for quite a while.”

pausing for a breath, you tilted your head—the radiance of your irises blooming with an enchanting glow, as if the secrets of the universe were hidden within their depths.

"what's wrong?"

in the midst of an enchanting moment, a subtle hint of wounded innocence played across your seductive countenance, evoking a mysterious allure.

"do i look that bad?"

your voice, though as mellow and gentle as always, carried an underlying touch of vulnerability.

in an instant, he reacted, tilting his head with a subtle mixture of surprise and denial.

"what? no."

aa he blinked, his words slipped out absent-mindedly, like a whisper from a dreamer's lips.

"far from it, actually."

he confessed, his sincerity palpable.

with a gaze that held a painter's eye for detail, he saw your flaws not as imperfections, but as intricate brush strokes that added depth to the masterpiece of your being. inexplicably, he adored you, to the point where it practically pained him.

and who could blame him? for you were way more than a mere beauty that could be captured in words. you were a tapestry of emotions, a symphony of sensations that defied description.

to him, you are everything.

your brows raised slightly, captivated by his ever-unpredictable nature. truly, like the wind, he embraced the freedom to wander in any direction he pleased.

reminiscent of an owl, you blinked a plenty amount of times, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of his flattery. it seeped into the recesses of your heart, stirring a delicate blend of bashfulness and gratitude.

"then..."

unintentionally mimicking his gestures, as if dancing in synchrony with his spirit, you then asked, avidly yearning to explore the depths of his thoughts.

"mind sharing what's got you so..distant?"

although it was not deemed uncommon for him, of all individuals, to maintain a silent disposition, you possessed a deeper understanding—having witnessed something greater, something more.

despite the mere span of a few days, you stood as a crucial observer to the sudden shift in his demeanor. having been privy to a bewildering yet endearingly interactive side of the boy since his awakening, it became slightly disconcerting to witness him potentially regress into his characteristic, distant, and dazed state.

the memory of those extraordinary moments lingered, and it was disheartening to question whether they were mere illusions or if they held the promise of something genuine.

as of now, the male in question pressed his lips together, creating a slender line as his gaze wandered away from yours, as though searching for a brief respite from reality.

seeing this, you reassured him. carefully observing these subtle occurrences with your keen irises.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

responding with a weary shake of his head and a sigh escaping his lips, his gaze flickered back to you, and as his eyes connected with yours once more, a subtle softness overcame them.

truly breathtaking were his eyes. they possessed a hue reminiscent of emerald, yet they gleamed like the replesdent glow of the moon above.

however, what truly captured your attention was the way his brows furrowed just as the corner of his lips downturned, for internally—a cascade of emotions crashed upon him all at once. moreover, a despairing layer seemed to coat his eyes, a poignant sorrow that caught you off guard.

"i don't like it."

he stated firmly, his words hanging in the air, leaving you perplexed.

your head tilted slightly further, eyes widening as you regarded him with curiosity and intrigue.

in response, he raised a hand to the area where his heart resided, his gaze lowering and narrowing towards the ground beneath you both.

"this feeling..."

his voice carried a weight of uncertainty, gaze delicately shifted back to meet yours—and in that moment, you could have sworn you saw his frown deepen as the hint of sorrow on his features became even more pronounced.

"and knowing you could..."

he trailed off, unable to bring himself to complete his sentence. yet, the unfinished words were enough for you to grasp the essence of his meaning.

your brows upturned, sensing the profound depth of emotions he struggled to express fully through words. you had a hunch that it might be something like this, but witnessing his reaction with such intensity was, without a doubt, enough to evoke a painful ache in anyone's heart.

the desire to comfort him welled up within you, an overwhelming longing to ease his burdens. yet, you couldn't help but question how you could possibly offer reassurance.

would it be by telling a blatant lie about something that was inevitable?

now, that would be nothing short of cruelty, no?

to suggest that you would overcome it would only exacerbate the pain. moreover, you were uncertain how to approach the situation without inadvertently triggering a devastating chain of events in the unavoidable future.

truth be told, if he were anyone else, you might have dismissed the matter with a casual remark, wouldn't you?

but with him, it was different.

you couldn't bring yourself to say so.

unable to find the right words in that moment, your gaze somberly shifted away from his, fixating on a distant point ahead. yet, in a sudden and unexpected instant, you were taken aback as you felt the weight of something new but vaguely familiar resting upon your shoulder—soft strands of supple hair gently brushing against you. along with it came a delicate warmth, enveloping you in an oddly soothing sensation.

"you don't have to say anything."

he quietly uttered, his honeyed voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and reassurance. he simply needed to release his thoughts into the open, to let them be heard, even if it was just a single sentence.

there had been no intention to pressurize or burden you, but rather a desire to be the one offering reassurance while subtly seeking comfort himself.

in a silent plea to convince himself that he wasn't caught in a dream, he gingerly leaned his head against your shoulder, and though was making sure not to add any more damage to your wounds, he did so without a hint of regret.

your heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by the depth of his actions. turning your attention back to him, you found solace in this unspoken gesture of support. that tender gesture conveyed a profound understanding, a connection that surpassed the boundaries of words. it was a silent reassurance; of ones comforting presence for the other, especially in the face of uncertainty.

a sentimental smile graced your features as you felt immense gratitude for his selfless deeds. even in this moment, he made sure you were as comfortable as possible, going above and beyond to provide solace. the warmth of his actions filled you with a deep sense of appreciation and reinforced the unmatched bond between you.

"..thank you,"

you whispered in a hushed breath, your voice carrying the weight of profound appreciation.

though the words seemed simple, they held within them an entire universe of gratitude—a universe that bloomed with vivid colors, dreamlike aspirations, and meaningful connections.

with a delicate grace, you lifted your hand and allowed your fingertips to dance upon the canvas of his raven tresses. each strand, like a silken thread, wove a tapestry of sensations beneath your touch.

the texture was soft and supple, akin to the gentle caress of a summer breeze. as your fingers glided through the ebony strands, you embarked on a journey of intricate care, smoothing out the knots that dared to disrupt the harmony.

in this intimate act, time seemed to suspend, creating a space where the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a transcendent moment. your touch, as mindful as the brushstrokes of an artist, traced a path of tenderness and care. each movement held intention, a pledge to protect and cherish him, ensuring no harm would befall his vulnerable spirit.

It was a silent symphony, where the language of trust and gratitude flowed effortlessly through the whispers of your fingertips.

as you continued this tender ministration, a vibrant tapestry of emotions unfurled within the depths of your heart. gratitude, like a delicate fragrance, mingled with a sense of wonder, weaving a spellbinding combination.

the tenderness you shared painted a tableau, akin to a cherished memory, where hues of warmth, understanding, and appreciation blended harmoniously.

pleased by your touch, a contented hum escaped your companion's lips, his eyes finding solace in the comfortable embrace of closed lids.

a smile, brimming with emotions, blossomed upon his visage, a testament to the profound impact of your presence.

his heart fluttered with a bittersweet ache, caught between the beauty of the present and the uncertainty of the future.

yet, even in the face of daunting odds, a glimmer of hope persisted within him. it discreetly clung to his being, refusing to be extinguished.

it was undeniably a childlike hope, both fragile and resilient; to yearn for the possibility of a miraculous turn of events.

still, muichiro wanted to embrace that chance, to patiently wait for the magic of a future with you.

[forlorn-crows]

may i request a ficlet or a headcanon on how mountain and rain fell in love?

anon, i need you to know i SQUEALED so loud when you first sent me this. i love these boys so MUCH, and im so happy you asked about them. consequently, i have written you an entire fic fhghdhjf. happy mountain monday!

tagging @divine-misfortune for giving me ideas for this, including the title

𝑩𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒚 𝑭𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓��

Rating: Teen

Relationship(s): Mountain/Rain, Mountain & Dewdrop, Mountain/Zephyr (mentioned)

Tags: fluff, romantic fluff, first kiss, falling in love, pre-relationship. mentions of past relationships & now turbulent ones. they're just so cute okay :((

Words: 2,648

It happens quickly, like a rushing river thrusting debris together after a storm. Leaves and shorn-off buds tangling with algae before coming to rest at a rocky bend in the stream. The current carries them towards each other—part chance, part fate, part cruel circumstance. Gentle in the way it allows them to float on the surface, but persistent in the way it doesn’t let up until they ultimately intertwine.  In that way, Mountain can’t help the way he’s been drawn to Rain.

read the rest under the cut, or on AO3!

It happens quickly, like a rushing river thrusting debris together after a storm. Leaves and shorn-off buds tangling with algae before coming to rest at a rocky bend in the stream. The current carries them towards each other—part chance, part fate, part cruel circumstance. Gentle in the way it allows them to float on the surface, but persistent in the way it doesn’t let up until they ultimately intertwine. 

In that way, Mountain can’t help the way he’s been drawn to Rain. In a whirlwind of summonings, the water ghoul stayed unfazed from the beginning: cool, collected. The ease with which he took to their routine and their lives gained all of Mountain’s admiration. He was the fresh scent of petrichor after months of brimstone and burnt skin. 

Dew was . . . well, Dew was different now, and more connected to Aether than ever. None of them could help the fact they all mourned his water in different ways. It was what it was—and that made it easy for Mountain to let the new water ghoul in while he temporarily loved the old one from a distance. 

Melancholy, perhaps. Thankfully, now, it’s becoming easier to figure it all out, even amongst the chaotic shuffle of ghouls, instruments, and authority. They’ve had a few moments, some good, some bad. Mountain’s accepted, after many weeks of unbridled anger, stubbornness, and isolation, that it simply will take time.

And woven into the healing and the mess of it all is that bright cerulean lure, flashing over and over. 

It doesn’t help, of course, that Rain is gorgeous. Lithe and sharp, siren-like in the way he involuntarily commands Mountain’s attention. But more than that; it’s the way he lets mistakes roll off of him in rivulets. The way he walks around like he’s been there a thousand years, but never in a cocky way—more like he finds comfort in everything and everyone with an ease that only adds to his elegance. 

It’s the way he bounds over to Mountain while he’s working outside the greenhouse to ask if he needs help instead of breezing by on his way to the lake. Always offering for the earth ghoul to join him (Mountain’s scared shitless of making a fool of himself being alone with him, so he never does). 

And, it’s the way that Rain really, really listens to him. Eyes soft and kind, always cocking his head in genuine interest when he speaks. How he doesn’t let anyone pull him away for some heated rendezvous or grab him for another practice session when they’re deep in conversation.

Slowly but surely, he’s gotten to know the water ghoul. Little smiles exchanged while he watches Dew teach Rain the bass. Sharing favorite foods, like orange blossom infused honey to drizzle over Rain’s toast at breakfast. Neutral compliments that turn into lengthy conversations at the end of their rhythm section sectionals (where Mountain doesn’t miss the amused, knowing shake of Aether’s head as he exits the practice room, leaving them to it). Jokes shared over dish duty at the end of the night, long walks around the abbey and its grounds where their shoulders brush and Rain’s face lights up like the most lustrous sapphire. 

The earth ghoul just can’t seem to have enough of him—of his genuineness. His openness to learning new things while always being honest about who he is and what he needs. 

What he wants, though? Who he wants? Well, Mountain is a little blind to that. 

He, however, is not blind to his own wants. 

Wants that flutter to life in his belly when he walks in on Rain in the baths one afternoon. Mountain can’t help that he blushes something fierce, steps stuttering as he contemplates continuing or fleeing. There’s no need to say sorry, at least; it’s not an intrusion to walk in on another ghoul in their shared bath house. But that doesn’t stop Mountain from feeling like it is, with the way he’s alone, poised somehow perfectly in the patch of setting sun streaming in through the skylights. Running fingers through raven-black hair as he massages his shampoo into his scalp.

It’s not the first time he’s seen him naked before. They’ve been to the lake together a handful of times, where Rain has thus far preferred to be bare as the day he was summoned. But at this moment? He almost seems more . . . real. More ethereal and mesmerizing. Even from a few yards away he can see the faint markings scattered across his shoulders and back, almost white in the dimming light, popping against his blue-toned skin. The fins along his ears glow close to orange as the scattered beams of sunlight shine through the thin skin. 

Mountain could admire him for hours. Trace up and down the fins on his spine, map out his spots like constellations. Watch his gills fluff and flutter. He wants very badly for Rain to let him. 

One day.

Eventually, the water ghoul notices his guest, looking over his shoulder as he squeezes on the ends of his hair. His cerulean eyes crinkle up at the corners when he notices Mountain staring (gawking, really), and the earth ghoul is nearly brought to his knees right there. 

“Hi, Mountain,” he says smoothly. Underneath the water, his finned tail swishes. 

“Uh,” Mountain clears his throat, “ . . . hi.” It’s so small and hesitant and he wants to kick himself. Any shred of nonchalance leaving his body the moment Rain puts his eyes on him.

The water ghoul just smiles, tipping his head towards the water in front of him. “Come join me.” His voice is sweet and melodic as it echoes against the high ceilings and mixes with the soft bubbling sound of circulating water. Every part of him a siren’s call.

Something akin to bashfulness creeps up his spine, face going hot at the thought of disrobing entirely in front of a creature so, so much more gorgeous than he. While he’s seen Rain naked before, Rain’s never seen him naked, and though he has no qualms about being naked in front of kin (he’s learned the hard way about human ideals of decency), something about it being the first time the water ghoul will see more than just his chest and calves has his heart fluttering like a mortal teenager in a romcom. 

“Sure. Thanks.” Lords below, have mercy. He strips quickly before he can think about backing out, dropping his clothes into a haphazard bundle on one of the benches. 

“No soap?” Rain observes his lack of toiletries as he places his towel at the bath’s edge. 

“Oh. No; was coming more for a soak,” Mountain explains, slipping into the water. He can feel the heat radiating from the tiles underneath his feet, a soothing temperature that instantly eases the tension in his tired muscles. He trills contently. 

The water ghoul makes a thoughtful noise as he tips his head back for a rinse. Mountain watches the ridge of his throat stand out against his neck as it bends, the gills on either side fanning out slightly as the skin around them pulls taught. Before his gaze can wander past the beginning of his sternum and take in the way his chest tips towards the ceiling, though, Rain straightens back up, hair now slicked back against his scalp. 

“Well, you’re welcome to use mine. If you change your mind.” The fins on his ears twitch and shake off the residual water droplets, sending some flying towards Mountain’s face. 

“He-ey,” he accuses, squinting one eye and blinking the other rapidly. “I think there was some shampoo in that one.” 

Rain grins, sharp double fangs on full mischievous display. “Oops. Guess you’ll have to rinse it off.”

Mountain sighs and rubs at his cheek with the back of his hand, head shaking slightly. He takes an over-exaggerated breath, holding it all in his cheeks and raising his eyebrows at the water ghoul before sinking beneath the water, submerging completely. For as dense as his hair is, it thankfully wets easily, and he’s pushing back up to full height—now fully drenched—after only a few seconds. 

Rain’s laugh reverberates around him, pretty and delighted. Mountain knows it’s because of the hair in his eyes, most likely transforming his appearance closer to that of an unkempt highland cow than a slightly disheveled earth ghoul. Mountain chuckles in response, shaking off like a dog. 

“You asked for this,” he says as their laughter dies down. He’s about to raise his hands to his face and push back the wet strands, but instead, Rain’s there suddenly, brushing the hair off his forehead with soft, cool hands and thumbing the water away from his eyes. Mountain’s breath catches in his chest, heart beating very fast as Rain’s hands pause to linger on his cheeks. 

They’ve never been this close—such a distinct lack of distance that Mountain can feel the breath from Rain��s nose fanning over his slightly parted lips. It’s been difficult enough in the moments Rain bumps against him in the hall or when their hands brush when passing plates at dinner. Touch that lingers for hours afterwards. Now he’s within the circle of the water ghoul’s arms with nothing but bath water between them, and Belial, he might not survive the next few minutes. 

“H-hi,” he whispers. Anything to not break this spell, despite the urge he has to slip from his hands and drown himself in embarrassment. 

“Hi,” Rain smiles. His eyes dart down to Mountain’s nose, back up again, then down to his lips. And his gaze stays there as he tilts his head to the side and asks, so blatantly: “Will you kiss me?”

Mountain nods so fast he thinks his brain rattles in his skull. 

Rain laughs again, and Mountain’s heart swells with something he dare not yet name. 

“C’mere, then.” And Rain is pulling him in, shifting his hands to hold against the nape of his neck, thumbs at the hinge of his jaw. Mountain can’t help the noise that escapes him when their lips connect, Rain’s so soft and cool it makes him ache. It takes all his willpower not to slot their bodies together when he places his hands on the water ghoul’s waist. He’s so smooth, skin almost taking on a stingray-like texture from the water and stray soap residue. 

The kiss is brief, chaste, but not without movement. Lips meeting, parting, then meeting again with softened breaths shared by their noses. A flurry of excitement runs through him when Rain smiles against his mouth; a juvenile feeling, but one that warms his entire chest. One that he has to have a tight hold on, lest he get too excited.

When Rain turns his head, rubbing their noses together, Mountain huffs against his lips as another kaleidoscope of butterflies fills his belly. But he pulls away after that, their mouths separating with a soft sound. All at once he becomes frozen, eyes still closed—almost like he’s drifting through space, memorizing the feeling of Rain’s lips moving against his.

Rain laughs breathily. “You still with me?”

Mountain bites his lip, eyebrows quirking up in the middle. His hands are still sliding against the water ghoul’s skin. Just feeling. The smoothness of his skin only makes him want to touch him more. 

“Uh-huh.” Mountain can hear himself how distant he sounds, how terribly infatuated he is just from one kiss. It brings him back to those early days with Zephyr: how cautious and reserved he was around the elegant air ghoul when they gave him attention. How they managed to pull something genuine and warm out of him over those first few months. How Mountain’s world changed the moment Zephyr pulled him down to their height and pressed their lips to his. 

And maybe that’s what it was about Rain that hooked Mountain from the start. That similar brand of ease and elegance, the nonjudgemental willingness to help him through his stubborn, thick head and realize yes, this ghoul wanted him. Where Zephyr helped him gain confidence to live a life topside, Rain has helped him rejuvenate that life and give him purpose again. 

Hard not to fall (over and over again) for a ghoul like that. 

After probably too long of a pause, Mountain opens his eyes. Rain’s smiling at him, blue eyes sparkling. Everything about him outshines anything else in his view, and he just has to return the smile. Mountain rubs his thumbs over his hip bones, sharp but smooth, so pleasing to touch that he just wants to touch him over and over. Rain scoots millimeters closer and hums thoughtfully.

“Well?” He’s still holding his face between his hands. He moves them from Mountain’s jaw and slides them down his neck and over his shoulders, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

Mountain gasps softly. Grips Rain’s hips a little tighter as he watches the water ghoul lick his lips. He doesn’t answer his question, because all he wants to do is pull Rain right back in. 

“Will you kiss me again?” It’s easy to ask—easy to want more from him, want to give him more. He could sink into this warmth between them and happily never come out.

“You don’t have to ask,” Rain smiles, already closing the gap between their mouths—and now their bodies—again. This time, he lets himself touch, really touch. Arms circling his waist, snaking between his shoulder blades, hands running softly along his fins and moving upwards to tangle in his hair. It would be too easy to completely let go, lose himself in it all and let Rain devour him right here in the bath. Open up for him and let him take all of him. But he doesn’t want to get too far, too carried away. Not here. Not now. 

Not yet. 

Rain works his hands over the planes of his chest, his stomach, lingering just on the edge of politeness as he familiarizes himself with Mountain’s little tufts of fur. Skilled, thin fingers twist and pet at the mousy brown strands dusting his chest, his stomach. Still kissing chastely, but not without intention or desire. 

Tiny wings flutter faster in Mountain’s stomach, swooping high and low in their wild flight. Pushing little sounds out of his throat as Rain huffs softly against his lips. It’s too easy to let him hear those sounds—illustrating how much he wants him, letting him hear all the ways he makes him feel just at the slightest of touches. 

Rain pulls away, and Mountain dizzily follows. Chasing kiss-puffed lips and the sweet taste of laughter breathed between them. But the water ghoul slips from his grasp with ease, wading away from him.

“Wait, but . . .” Mountain doesn’t actually know what to say. His lips and body buzz where Rain last touched, nerves alight. 

Rain just shakes his head and smiles. “Plenty more where that came from, Mount.” He pulls himself out of the bath, and Mountain swears he bends over purposefully just to make him look. Rain runs a towel over his body and squeezes the bulk of the water from his hair. Then he tosses the towel in the bin in favor of a soft waffle-knit robe, sighing happily as he slips it on. 

Before Mountain can say anything else, Rain’s scooping up his soaps and shuffling out of the bathhouse in a pair of garishly blue rubber sandals (completely in contrast to the muted stone-gray of his robe, but Mountain supposes those kinds of shoes don’t come in sophisticated colors). The smile stays on his face even as he rounds the corner. 

Leaving Mountain alone, tingling everywhere. 

“Belial, help me . . .” he mutters into the empty room. He sinks down, nose deep into the water and equally as deep into those lingering, fluttery feelings. 

[cambion-companion]

Dinner Date

Sorry I haven't written in a while! I have several anon asks requesting something small for a dinner date with Raphael, inspired no doubt by the lovely Mr. Wincott's contribution in the livestream!

With a little twist because I haven't explored what it would be like delivering the crown to the cambion.

"What could be more exquisite than watching the hero of Baldur's Gate walk to me, fresh in the moonlight." Raphael leaned forward in his seat, the cool night air and cricket song belaying the tension in his taught frame.

He smiled as you approached and sat at the wooden table, the warm brown eyes of his human guise sparkling in the candlelight. "You've proven to be quite the asset, my dear. A fortuitous investment, indeed."

"Raphael." You greeted, your stomach doing obnoxious flips as it always did in his presence. "I brought you a little souvenir, as I'm sure you already know."

"Indeed I am." Raphael purred, his eyes scanning you person with keen intent. "I had front row seats, as it were. Your victory was marvelous. You played your part well."

You grunted, not flattered by the way he treated it all like an elaborate theater production. You hefted the wrought iron crown out of your bag of holding and placed it, glittering, upon the table.

The weight of such an artifact drew both your gazes, and all that could be heard for several moments was a soft zephyr stirring the trees and the sound of frogs and crickets harmonizing to the summer night.

The candle sputtered in the breeze and you looked to Raphael only to find his eyes already locked on your face.

He spoke with an intensity you'd not yet become familiar with. "Well done." He swirled deep red wine in his crystal chalice. "I wish you'd reconsider becoming business partners."

"You say it like we'd be equals." You scoffed, knowing full well he'd love nothing more than to gain your soul for his collection. You shook your head and took a sip of your own drink. "I think not, Raphael. As much as I like you, I'm not that stupid."

"I'd be disappointed if you gave in easily." Raphael raised a hand and the crown vanished in a swirl of golden embers, their brief light reflected in your widened eyes. "I do so enjoy the chase, and you are such a lush prize."

You have the cambion a wry smile, a touch of fondness to the curl of your lips. "I'll admit, it would be disappointing if after this we never saw each other again."

Raphael nodded and beckoned a waiter, never removing his gaze from your face. He looked for all the world like the cat who got the cream. "What is the phrase you mortals are so fond of? Ah, yes." He gestured grandly as he spoke, illustrating his words with his hands. "I fully intend on having my cake, and I will eat it too."

Later that same night, Raphael had whisked you away back to his House of Hope. You'd expressed mild displeasure at being taken back to Avernus but he'd quelled your complaints with a look.

Raphael reclined in a grand chair, almost a throne in appearance, his leg crossed over the other. His human skin had been shed in favor of his larger, sharper devil form. He raised two fingers, snapped them, and conjured the crown of Karsus to float between where you stood and he sat.

"Now we are somewhere more appropriate, I require you to complete our contract."

You pursed your lips together, knowing the answer before you spoke the question. "How, exactly?"

Raphael paused for dramatic effect. When he spoke next it was a command, not a request. "Crown me."

The crown felt cold and heavy in your hands when you took it, the weight extending to your very soul as you approached where Raphael sat.

You slowly lifted it and placed the intricate metal piece gently onto his heady, being careful to accommodate for the thorny spiral of his horns. It slid perfectly atop his dark hair, you couldn't help but admire the way it looked. "As though it was made for you." You said aloud, not noticing the words come out of your mouth.

A large, clawed hand cupped the back of your neck, hellfire eyes burning into you. "As surely as your very soul was for me." Raphael purred and dragged you down for a searing kiss.

[glitterclan]

alright, so after restarting the game repeatedly and tweaking the save file a bit i finally managed to get the save file back to where it was in the original moon 24.

but i figured it would be interesting to share some of the events that occurred in the failed rerolls. these are obviously non-canon because they were in rolls that i had to restart but i thought it was funny nonetheless because some of them were completely out of character.

zephyr brutally attacking strikeheart at the border. she survived but was in the healer's den with a claw wound. this would have been juicy to use but alas, i can't xddd

heatherstar attacking oleandersky for disobeying orders? pardon me? that's your son?

strikeheart commanding poppaw to attack a fox and him getting severely injured as a result. what?

briarfeather attacking a bee hive

mistswirl repeatedly confessing to hopebeam, most of the time he was rejected but there were 3 instances where they actually got together

cinderbone and briarfeather repeatedly bringing home more kits from a surrogate mother...i didn't check to see if it was the same one but damn

[toshiitea]

I wanted to practice drawing temeura’s features because im ngl its kind of torturous to draw the same exact face constantly. However i, pretty happy with this and one of my favorite commanders gets a ref^^

A wee bit of Zephyr lore below ^^

His name was given to him by his late first general. Zephyr was swift with completing his tasks and was a great leader. When his troops were in tough spots he also doubled as a medic. His first general would always praise him for how gentle he was with the injured; a stark contrast from his commander persona.

When a new general is assigned to his legion he isn’t exactly to friend with him. When Avello (the new general and another one of my ocs.) tried to connect with him he would dismiss the poor man. Once he learns more of the new general he begins to let his walls down, they get along very well. Zephyr enjoyed his new friendship with that felt nothing like he’d experience before in his short existence.

He begun to think about actually surviving the war. What would life be like after it and would he be allowed to stay by his Jedi’s side?……😈🙏 Unfortunately for him he developed a one sided (not at the time but he didnt know😈) crush on the Jedi.

Post Order 66

He becomes fluent in GSSL (Galactic Standard Sigh Language) to better accommodate those who have lost hearing during the war.

He actually doesn't have many ambitions, he just want to make sure his brothers are alright.

Im not sure yet if he directly works with Rex + Echo yet but I do know he and his crew spend their time helping clones adjust to their new lives outside of the GAR and Empire. He also helps rehabilitate. He doesn’t particularly love to do extraction missions but he will go where he is needed.

[skele-bunny]

Y'all are INSANE. Alright fine have pt 2 of this Zephrit post

"Don't forget your own song, mutt. Do you want me to show them who really sings when they're fucked like a damn dog? Hm? Now go sit and keep your jaw shut, Welpe."

Later in the evening back in their room, how Ifrit is standing still while Zephyr sits on the bed, leaning against their cane. Given just the simple command to strip and sit. Ifrit's always been a good dog, always complied.

Zephyr's cane going between his legs and touching his hard dick, the rubber stopper pressing hard until Ifrit's cock is touching his stomach.

"You sure did have a mouth on you earlier, didn't you pup?"

A little laugh and Zephyr stands, Ifrit groaning as Zeph's weight goes on the cane that's still pressed on him. His horn grabbed and face brought closer, fingers rubbing under his chin. His mouth landing on Zephyr's pants with a little whine, looking up with those still pink tinted eyes as Zephyr speaks again.

"Use your teeth and pull my pants down, and make sure to look cute." Pats his cheek. "Might save you, if you do."

Send tweet.

[bitchfitch]

Fewer women than men enlisted, then only a handful of those women made it through the gauntlet of machismo that stood between them and real valor. Of those that did, next to none of them got promoted up the ranks or into the jobs so specialized and classified that they didn't get official titles.

Zephyr had been aware of this aspect of his workplace, but had never really thought much of it because it simply did not concern him.

It meant he got the odd jobs that had him flying out to exotic places and talking pretty while draped in a moderate income's worth of jewelry and high end fashion, even though women were always the most effective in this sub-field of subtle swaying.

He liked the term "influencer" to describe their line of work, and that was what he told people his job was, but the official term was technically, less-sexily, "psyop."

The lack of women in his immediate circle of coworkers never really stuck out as a failure of the system, it benefited him just fine, until he was stood outside a modest suburban home in the exurbs of Iowa.

The first wave of super soldiers were begining to be retired, and someone miles further up the command chain than Zephyr seemed to have finally had to face the consequences of making a weapon no one could destroy. That, or, this had always been the plan.

Once the things were obsolete, put them behind a white picket fence in ass-nowhere and stick an operative with the job of teaching the murder machines how to live that apple pie life.

It was a stupid enough idea for it to have always been the plan.

The only evidence that it wasn't always the plan was that when the day finally came for the first Andromeda Class Soldier to go home, there was not a Single woman with the right clearances, temperament, availability, lack of a family or friends that would notice her disappearance, and who had a willingness to be spayed, to take up the mantle of Faux-Bride of Frankenstein

Instead there was just Zephyr, who, in the words of his handler, "Was close enough."

He was supposed to be in Bali, but instead He's In Fucking Iowa, because the actual U.S. government didn't think to neuter their science experiment before making it bomb proof.

"Seething" was the only word to describe his mood as he walked down the stepping stone path to a porch that looked like something out of a stock photo.

Perfectly painted with two rocking chairs and a potted ivy, it would be cute were Zephyr's handler were not staining it with his presence.

Elton stood from one of the rockers and demonstrated his one impressive talent as he greeted Zephyr: His ability to look down his nose at someone nearly a full head taller than him.

"Zephyr."

"Elton," he responded coolly. They had ranks, technically, but neither of them typically cared to cast that kind of respect on the other. Especially not when they weren't even using their real names. "I'm looking for someone. Big guy, fugly. Seen it?"

"Your beautiful bride is just inside," Elton held out a cartoonish looking journal to him. "Here's everything you need to know for its care and keeping."

Zephyr took the book in hand, he didn't bother to ask who decided it should be pink and furry with ugly sequins and glitter that was already making Zephyr itch. He knew Elton had probably taken great pride in designing this "diary" himself.

"Hm hm, Give me the TLDR," he dropped it into the small backpack of personal belongings he was being allowed to bring into this mess.

"It's got super soldier dementia. Sad really. It's still in prime physical condition but something went wrong with a reprogramming and now it's bunk. According to the file, it gets confused. Old programs come back online or it's current one breaks so badly it has to revert to those shreds to stop itself going catatonic.

"There's no helping it and no putting it down, so it's your problem. The lab guys stripped out every memory and scrap of programming they could, so it should be a sponge of a blank slate for you to do your manipulations on."

"Everything?" Zephyr quirked a brow. He didn't know if he should be made eager by the limitless potential in making a man from nothing, or intimidated by the vast number of ways he could fuck this up.

"Everything. The higher powers want to see if you can make it into anything useful, and if you can't, then if it's able to adapt to being it's own person."

"Understood," he slung his backpack over his shoulder, "Last question - What are my off hours?"

"It's a temporary and highly sensitive post. You don't get any."

"Elton."

"Don't whine. You'll survive at least a year."

"No I won't. If I'm still 24/7 in three months time I'm killing us both," Zephyr shoulders pass him, not because Elton was in the way, but because Zephyr was hoping it'd knock him down the steps.

"It's a fucking super soldier- You're not killing it," he watches down his nose as Zephyr grabs the keys that are in the lock and opens the door to his new prison.

"Oh," he sneers as he backs through the door "I was Not talking about We as in it and I."

Closing the door in Elton's face was almost satisfying enough to make this situation worth it.

[666writingcafe]

Conspiracy

Simeon

This is wrong. How is any of this deemed acceptable?

Ever since my and Luke's return to the Celestial Realm following the announcement of an indefinite postponement of the opening ceremony for Diavolo's school, these thoughts have been constant in my head.

You see, Father feels like the brothers haven't been punished sufficiently enough for defying Him. It's not enough for them to merely be cast down to the Devildom. In His eyes, they don't deserve the opportunity to live a happy life down there. He'd much prefer to personally torture them for the next millennia or so before casting their souls down in Cocytus for all of eternity.

So, He gave Michael permission to do whatever it takes to get the brothers back up here. Michael decided that the easiest way to convince them to leave the Devildom would be by telling them that we're willing to pardon them for their digressions. And since Michael's presence down there would make the brothers highly suspicious, he's planning on taking on the form of Raphael during his trip. After all, most of the brothers are scared of Raphael, so they'd do anything to avoid his wrath.

And guess whose responsibility is it to make sure that Michael's impression of Raphael is pretty much perfect?

Fucking Raphael. How dare he put this on my plate?

I've been disgusted with myself this entire time. Father is literally having us break one of His commandments for what? Petty revenge? What happened to "love thy neighbor"? Did Lucifer wound His pride so severely that He's forgotten how to act?

And the worst thing about all this is that I am powerless to stop it. As it is, if anyone found out I was questioning His will, I might as well be joining the brothers in Cocytus. I'm already on thin ice as it is due to me keeping vital information about the brothers from Him before and during the war.

And somebody has to take care of Luke. I don't trust the others to keep him from harm's way. They'd exploit his innocence for their own selfish needs, and I won't allow that to happen.

So I've kept my objections to myself. Through Michael's training, through my return to the Devildom to deliver the message to Diavolo about "Raphael's" arrival, and through this stupid meeting in the prince's home office. In His eyes, I'm behaving like the perfect angel, blindly doing what I'm told.

And then I made the mistake of making eye contact with Zephyr. It's only momentary, and yet time seems to slow down to a crawl.

I can't have them disappointed in me. We didn't talk a whole lot during my initial visit, but I know that they have a strong moral compass. They'd reject me if they found out that I kept this from them.

Before I can question my emotions too much, the meeting ends, and the six of us--Michael, Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, Zephyr, and myself--walk out of the office and make our way down the hallway. Zephyr and I trail behind the others.

I have to move quickly. Before I change my mind and before anyone notices.

There's a nearby door that's slightly ajar. Perfect.

I quickly grab Zephyr and drag them inside the room, making sure to reposition the door back to where it was as to not cause suspicion. The second they make noise, I cover their mouth with my hand. Their eyes widen as I begin listening for returning footsteps.

Thankfully, no one comes to investigate.

"Will you remain quiet if I remove my hand?" I whisper urgently. Zephyr nods their head. Sure enough, they don't begin screaming for help when I let go.

"Good sheep," I murmur, mentally smacking myself when I fully register what left my mouth. Zephyr remains silent. This room is rather small. Did I shove the two of us in a closet?

Oh, this isn't good. I can already feel myself begin heating up, and I'm pretty sure it's not just due to the cramped space we're in.

"Listen carefully, because I'm only going to be able to say this once," I quietly tell them. Another nod. "It's a trap. They're not getting pardoned. You have to do everything in your power to convince them to stay here." Zephyr tilts their head and looks contemplatively at me. Are they questioning my intentions?

A moment later, they softly smile at me.

"Don't doubt yourself," they whisper softly. "You're doing the right thing." They gently push the door open again, allowing me to leave the room first.

I needed to hear that.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @interconnectedmatrix

[wisteria-blooms]

fly away on my zephyr (bill weasley & reader)

Summary: You and Bill discuss your post-graduation plans. (1.06k words).

Tags: fluff, Bill being a cutie

A/N: I am so bad at answering requests (I promise I see them and I think about them daily). But I wanted to write this one to break things up a bit. We love Bill Weasley around here, and especially Bill Weasley fluff.

FLY AWAY ON MY ZEPHYR (B.W. & READER)

“(Y/N)!” 

Bill Weasley dismounted his Nimbus, feet gliding over the grass before effortlessly stepping down with one foot. He swung his long leg over from the other side, and commanded the broomstick to his palm.

It’d been a year since you began dating and you couldn’t wrap your head around how Bill was so cool and perfect. Head Boy, top of his class, well-mannered, athletic, handsome, committed. You thanked the stars every night that he was your boyfriend. Yours, all yours. 

As your Bill approached, your friends giggled, taking it is a cue to leave you alone. One of them whispered, “Have fun with Bill!” before catching up with your other friends.

Bill sped up the last couple metres, his long legs turning what was a jaunt for most people into a jog. Before you could react, Bill swept you up in his strong arms. A gentle spring breeze swept over the courtyard, the smell of flowers sweet but Bill’s embrace even sweeter. The same wind blew away a long strand of ginger hair to reveal a metal stud on Bill’s right ear. Definitely against the dress code, but even if McGonagall saw it, you reckoned she’d turn a blind eye.

After all, it was your last day of your last year at Hogwarts. 

The ceremony wrapped up earlier in the day. Gryffindor had won the House Cup and Bill and his teammates fancied themselves one last game of Quidditch to celebrate. You knew he was going to miss the field and the glorious memories he made there. 

Bill gave you a peck on the cheek and set you down. He wanted a little more than that, but he also wanted to maintain some propriety so as to not embarrass you in front of your friends. Bill then took your hand and walked with you across the field.

“You’re still going to Alfie’s party, right?” Bill asked, leaning down to look at you.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“You best control yourself then, we wouldn’t want to miss the train tomorrow.”

“I—what?” you stammered. “I can control myself just fine! If I’m remembering correctly, you were the one I had to try to carry back that one night.”

“What?” Bill chuckled. “That never happened.”

“Oh, it so did,” you giggled. “I’m sure Filch was peering angrily from above the staircase. He’ll recall it for you.”

Bill made a face. “No, thank you. There are some people I won’t miss.”

After a moment of silence, Bill’s face quickly shifted into a still, more serious one. “And (Y/N),” he started. “I promise we’ll talk more about my job offer after tonight, alright? I don’t want it to spoil the mood.”

Bill clasped his other hand over yours, engulfing it. You fought the quiver of your lip and nodded.

Miraculously, you and Bill both survived the tell the tale the next morning. The party was wild, rife with unsanctioned alcohol, and Alfie spent most of the night poking at Bill, joking he was going to rat him out. Bill shook his head, asking Alfie how he was going to snitch on him if he himself was indulging in extra-potent whiskey, and stayed by your side for most of the night. 

After Bill ensured everyone had boarded the train, he led you to his own compartment—Head Boy privileges and all—giving you some much needed privacy. The Hogwarts Express flew through the Scottish highlands, the grass tinting the windows green. Bill watched you watch the mountains from beside you. 

Bill’s hand found its way to your thigh, drawing your attention to him. “I thought about it, and I accepted the offer.”

You nodded in encouragement and weakly, you responded, “As you should.” 

Another reason you loathed graduation was because you wouldn’t be able to see Bill everyday. Heck, he wasn’t even going to be on the hemisphere as you. Maybe you should’ve savoured having breakfast with him in the Great Hall everyday, laughing as he dotted ketchup on your nose. Carried your cauldron for you because it was too heavy. Waved to you as you admired him in the Quidditch stands. Wrapped his coat around you leaving the snow-covered grounds of Hogsmeade. 

“(Y/N), I know it’s not going to be easy for us,” Bill said with a frown. "That's why I was hesitant."

“No, Bill,” you said. “I’m so proud of you. Being employed at Gringotts is difficult enough, especially straight out of school. And a curse-breaker? In Egypt? There’s no one but you who could accomplish something like that. This is going to be huge for you.”

“I know,” Bill admitted. He bit on his lower lip. “This job is something I’ve always wanted. It’s truly a dream come true, but I keep thinking about the distance I’m putting between us.”

“The distance isn’t the main thing on my mind,” you corrected. 

“Then what’s on your mind?” Bill asked. 

“Bill,” you whimpered. You've had nightmares about Bill disappearing in some dune or losing his way in a sandstorm. And a stupid one where he was abducted by camels. “You’re going to die.”

Bill laughed. “I’m not going to die, (Y/N). That’s a little dramatic, even for you!” 

He gave you a peck on the lips. “You may die of boredom at your desk job at the Ministry, my love, but I assure you I’ll very much be alive.” Bill squeezed your waist. “I’ll be back in England every holiday and a couple weeks in the summer for vacation. I told the goblins that that was non-negotiable. And I want you to come visit me in Egypt whenever you can.”

You perked up. “Really?”

“Of course!” Bill affirmed, like any insinuation of you not being there was unthinkable. “You’re worth more than any treasure I might find. I refuse to lose you because of this.”

You blushed at Bill’s words. He’d clearly thought all this through and worked out every possible kink before accepting the job.

“I love you, Bill,” you whispered in his ear. “I can’t wait for you to come back.”

One of Bill’s hands found yours, and his thumb kneaded little circles below the knuckle of your ring finger, as if he could alchemize some imaginary metal and diamond to give you. But this, this would have to do for now to vow his dedication to you.  

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”

[mutt-sys]

Horny dog ghouls won by a landslide so here you fucking heathens.

Cw/tw:pet play, lactation, tit sucking, dumbification, cock warming

Phantom is the first to be dumbed down, Aurora or Cirrus will take his pretty cock in their cunts and make him wait like a good dog. Once he's given the command he'll spend hours humping into them so desperately, whining loudly as he mouths at their skin.

Then comes Mountain, he'll fuck into Cumulus so hungrily as he sucks on her tits and she's cooing all the while. "So pretty, fill your tummy so full." And it drives him insane, he's trying to be such a good dog for her.

Then Rain, Mist will ride his cock until she's satisfied and then he can fuck his knot into her as many times as he wants. His collar will jingle and move with every harsh thrust into her, he'll whine so loudly as he breeds her so full.

Then comes Alpha and Dew, Omega and Aether will take turns with them by fucking their mouths. Alpha will be given the pleasure of mounting Dew and fucking him into the ground, showing him how to be a good dog.

Then lastly is Ifrit, Zephyr will let the larger fire ghoul hump into him as long as he needs. He'll call him things like dumb dog, telling him how he's good for nothing but his cock. Ifrit will be driven by this, shoving his face into the air ghouls neck as he knots him.