#TO BE CONTINUED MAYBE

[yuesya]

“–he’s here! Hurry, call the other servants, we need to–”

“–has finally arrived, we must prepare for–”

“–cannot bring shame to the princess in front of Lord Osial, may he reign forever supreme–”

Osial ignores the frantic murmuring of the lesser seaborn as he strides through the hallways. The Coral Pavilion is small –more than spacious enough to accommodate a young half-breed and her insignificant retainers, but far too small to contain his own form. Thus he dons the guise of a human to walk through these halls, suppressing the faint flicker of annoyance that this brings. Lower-ranked beings are the ones meant to travel and pay respect to their superiors, after all–

But Osial is understanding. The half-breed child is severely injured from her battle against Malphas. An understanding lord does not force a gravely injured vassal to kowtow to them and perform the proper ceremonies under such circumstances.

Never mind that she is a child and not one of his generals–

But if that is what she truly desires… then, Osial shall grant her ardent wish. She has more than proven herself, now.

Osial’s high-ranked generals have all performed various feats of valor to prove their strength and skill to their lord. Among those many and myriad offerings, this is the first time that Osial has received the act of godslaying as a bloodstained gift upon his altar.

Perhaps Osial has misjudged his daughter’s silence, all these years. If it was not because she was as uncaring as her mother that she kept her distance, but instead that she felt shamed in Osial’s august presence for being unworthy due to her blood…

It explains her avoidance, and it explains her attentive patrolling of Osial’s territory. She seeks Osial’s attention, and his approval.

Very well. Mongrel she may be, but Osial rewards those whose achievements speak for themselves. Even though she is not a true seaborn, it is clear that she has inherited the strength of the seas through Osial’s bloodline.

Osial recognizes her talent, and her effort.

And so–

“You have worked hard,” Osial tells her. Tells the pitiful, aberrant fox-jiao that remains curled on the ground, weakened and injured beneath his feet. Malphas may not be a particularly powerful god, but she is a tricky opponent, and it is clear that the child has had a rough time of it. “In light of your accomplishment, I shall grant you your wish. I will allow you to swear your undying loyalty to me.”

Those recognized by a god-king such as Osial himself are few and far between. It is only because this child shares his blood, and is a godslayer despite only being half-divine herself, that Osial will grant her this opportunity she so desires. If this is how she intends to ease Osial’s aversion towards the fox-blood that runs in her veins, then Osial shall deign to–

“No.”

The word is soft, a quiet whisper. Yet it almost seems to echo throughout the chamber, for it is spoken firmly and with no trace of hesitation.

Osial’s eyes narrow. “… No?”

The fox-jiao lifts its grotesque head from its scaly paws, blue eyes unaffected and unmoving as they have always been.

“No. I don’t want to.”

[pineapple-downside-up-cake]

Pinnochi-ghost.

He's a war dog and he knows it, a product of vengeance and ashes, pointed at an enemy and given purpose. Bullet holes and breaks, they sand him down and put him together again. Fill in what's missing with sawdust and woodglue and loathing.

Barely a person and they give him a team anyway. Let him pretend he's not a puppet. The leash is long but the collar is tight. He chokes where they can't see, when he thinks he might feel something. Damn them for giving him warmth, a place where the light almost reaches his core.

It makes him want things he knows he cannot have. Things he doesn't deserve.

Can't disobey an order. The spell would break. He'd shatter into a thousand splinters, and nothing left. They'd sell him for toothpicks and the rest would blow away with the dust.

Something is better than nothing. And so again and again:

Target acquired.

Shot. Splinter. Glue.

Target down.

Whittled away little by little by time and repair until all semblance of the Simon he used to be is buried. Hidden under layers of varnish and fill, hardly anything solid, anything real, left behind the mask.

Not a man, barely a puppet. A spark that once had a dream.

A ghost.

[sloppysequinz]

Meet cute

Mel wasn’t expecting this delivery to bring her to an apartment complex. Two extra large pizzas, plus two six packs added on thanks to the newest DoorDash feature, would usually go to one of the run-down frat houses by the college. But here she was.

She typed the apartment number on the ticket into the pad by the gate. It rang for a moment before a woman’s voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is your Dasher, I have two pizzas and two—“

“Oh fuck yeah, come on in.” The voice cut Mel off and a loud buzz sounded as the gate unlocked. Mel chuckled a little. The girls at whatever bro-y girls night this was must be eager for their pizza.

Mel sprung up the stairs and turned the corner, mind focused on the best route to her next delivery. But her mind was brought to a thudding halt as she approached the apartment and saw Her.

Only the screen door was closed, the front door was wide open. Inside was a tableau straight out of Mel’s daydreams. A brightly lit and cozy living room. A coffee table littered with food wrappers, takeout boxes, weed paraphernalia, empty beer cans, and an enormous bong. A TV playing a silly comedy show. A plush couch facing the door on the far side of the room. And on the couch, a woman—a woman who filled half the couch, who was laughing throatily and stupidly at the tv, who was idly twisting a grinder in her hands. She was wearing a wife beater tank top, with enormous tits spilling over the top and a massive belly spilling out of the bottom. Mel could barely see a pair of little pink pajama shorts under the belly. She was blonde.

Mel wanted to drool, but she took a moment to compose herself and knocked on the door frame. “Door dash!” She called out cheerily. She was going to be normal about this.

The woman looked up. “Oh, right, hell yeah.” She set the grinder down and stood up, somewhat unsteadily. Mel thought she might already be drunk, but it also might just be how heavy she was.

She swayed over towards the door, jiggling, apparently not caring how much skin she had on display. The edges of her areolas became visible as her tits shook further out of her struggling tank top, and Mel could see he hard nipples just below the top’s neckline. She wanted to lick—no, she was normal.

Mel handed over the pizzas. “I just need to see your ID,” she reminded her new favorite delivery recipient. By rights, she probably shouldn’t give beer to a woman who had more than half a dozen empties scattered around her couch, but Mel wasn’t much for morals.

“Oh right, yeah, for the beer, duh.” The woman responded. She turned and went to set the pizzas on the coffee table before rummaging around for her ID. Her dimpled ass cheeks were barely covered by her little pink shorts. Mel wanted to stick her face—NO. BE NORMAL.

The woman came back to the door and handed Mel her ID. Mel examined it. She was definitely over 21–her birthday put her at two years older than Mel.

“Yvette, that’s a pretty name.” Mel remarked, trying to be cool about it. She handed the ID back, then the beer.

“Thanks.” Yvette answered, barely noticing. She was hyper-focused on the beers Mel handed over. Her eyes were shining as she took the dozen cans.

Much to Mel’s surprise, her deliveree set one of the six packs on a table next to the door, pulled a cab out of the other pack, opened it with one hand, and tipped it back to drink deeply. Mel’s jaw dropped as Yvette chugged, leaning back as she emptied the can into her mouth, gulping deeply and repeatedly. The beer was gone in 30 seconds.

Yvette straightened up and let out a satisfied “Ahhhhhhh, fugggg yes” before just dropping the can right there on the floor and pulling another off the pack. It was then that she noticed Mel’s awestruck stare.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” she chided, popping the next can open. Mel shook herself, ashamed.

“Oh fuck, I’m, I’m so sorry, I—“

“Chill, I was teasing.” Yvette responded with a grin, looking Mel up and down and she sipped her new drink. “I know an appreciative stare from an appalled one. You’re cute, what’s your name?”

Mel couldn’t believe this was happening. “M-Mel…”

“Ok, M-Mel,” Yvette replied, chuckling. “What time is your shift done?”

Oh fuck, it WAS happening. “Uh—uhm I’m off at 11–“

“You wanna come over when you’re done?” Yvette hefted her beer and regarded Mel idly, waiting to see if she had judged the other girl correctly. She had.

“Yes—yes.” Mel replied, tripping over her tongue. “Yes. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

Yvette grinned widely. “Good girl.” Mel flushed. Yvette grabbed the other six pack and shook them both at Mel. “I’ll need help lighting the bong after I finish these.”

As Yvette turned to sway and stagger back to the couch, Mel rushed out of the complex, trying to configure how she could finish her deliveries as fast as possible. She tried desperately to ignore the wetness in her panties.

She failed.

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

I have such a complicated relationship with non-canon friends to lovers ships… like yea some of them are so obviously meant to be together romantically to me, but the rest are so random? Like where did y'all see the chemistry here?

Deamus? Hell yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Prongsfoot? Platonic, yup, but romantic? Nope nuhUH

Parvati x Lavender? I don’t see it, sorry.

Linny? Of course!

Moonwater? Hm 🫤 (That’s a no btw)

Rosekiller? HECK YEAHHH

Wolfstar? YUP YEP YESSSYESSYESYESSS

Ronarry? Please, no-

[otterlyotterott]

A cat sits alone in the cemetery

Inspired by @circuscountdowns's bishop death comic.

cw: grief, slow mental deterioration by way of immortality

Mortal minds were not meant to live forever. Not alone. 

It’s the middle of the night and they kneel before the grave. In one of their hands they grip a shovel that had been gifted to them a long time ago. At the base of the handle is an engraving that matches the stone crown on the gravestone.

There is a pendant on their chest, and it gleams gold in the moonlight.

They close their eyes, and breathe. Out slow, in slow.  

Camellias smell like sugar and dirt, like three thousand years of longing. The flowers on this grave are always fresh. always redder than blood, even in the winter, when every other plant on cult grounds wilts and turns bare and hibernates. The camellias on his grave are always there, always beautiful. One might call them blessed.

They are not afraid of dying—they are devoted to Death. They simply cannot die yet. Their Gods and leaders need them. The rest of the flock needs their wisdom. Someone who can speak to them as an equal, but who knows more and has seen more than the rest. 

Mortal minds were not meant to live forever, but they’re still doing pretty well. They lose days or weeks sometimes, but it’s not a problem yet. They suspect it’ll take another five thousand or so before their mind becomes a problem, assuming something else doesn’t kill them first.

So, they cannot leave. Not of their own accord. They have no need to.

They want to stay, to be content with the impossible life they live, but something is missing. They’ve been missing the sandpaper edges of his voice for the last few centuries. They’ve been yearning for the feel of his fur on their own—green and yellow, a sunbeam shining over a bed of moss.

He left them. They agreed to it. He was tired. They understood, or thought they did. They were with him for the rest of his life, and they loved him, and he died, in the end, like a mortal, but his heart was full, and when he was gone for good, they realized that their heart had gone with him. Stolen in a final prank.

At first they figured the pain would lie in the loss itself, but true moments of pain were every time they would forget that he was gone. It was every time they would look beside them, to whisper to him something that he would yell aloud to embarrass them both, only to find no one was there. It was every odd hole in the ground that they would feel the urge to crouch down beside, to talk to him, coax him out, before someone would ask what they were doing and they would remember that he wasn't there. It was every time they remembered that holes in the ground were for plants, and not Gods.

He would be severely annoyed to see them do anything but smile, but it was getting hard to smile without him.

And, and he would want this, wouldn’t he? Even if getting woken back up annoyed him at first.

His After was probably boring without them.

He'd think it was funny.

He’d grin impossibly wide and say, “ABOUT TIME YOU DID SOMETHING SELFISH.”

They stare at the old stone. The crown of the God of Chaos stares back. It's only another life. He won't even have to put on a necklace this time around.

Mortal minds were not meant to live forever. Not alone.

So, they stand and lurch forward. They take the shovel into both their hands, and they drive it like a spear into the dirt, into Leshy's grave. 

They don’t know how the ritual works, but they know they’ll need his bones for it. They'll figure the rest out later.

[scalesandshade]

Omega Piers and Alpha Raihan who've been dating for a year, and on their anniversary Piers takes off his choker for the first time in Raihans presence.

Raihan can barely concentrate on the conversation because his teeth are aching so damn much

He's practically salivating and mentally raging at himself "don't fuck this up, you're a gentleman, he's finally comfortable enough to take it off!!"

Meanwhile Piers is slowly growing more confused as to why Raihan hasn't bitten him yet. Did he misread some signals or what? Shit, that's embarrassing.

Piers reaches to put the choker back on and Raihan physically twitches restraining himself from grabbing Piers wrist and all his mouth can manage is "NO! or, i mean- wait, hang on!"

They have a little heart-to-heart, establish that yes, Raihan very much DOES want to bite Piers and yes, Piers would very much like him to. They acknowledge that maybe talking things out beforehand would have been wise.

Piers nods and declares "well, if we're gonna chat no time like the present yeah?" settling on the couch and taking a moment to enjoy Raihans very mixed facial expressions before smirking and admitting "I'm just pulling yer leg mate. I mean, we pro'lly should talk and we will, but....after?"

Raihan lunges, drags Piers into his lap and latches onto the back of his neck but instead of biting he sucks hard, pressing his tongue and the flat edge of his fangs against the scent gland and letting Piers pheromones flood his mouth.

[maragotstuff2say]

The past the present the future

Can you tell me what connects them?

Hello?

Hello yes? This is her

No, no i cannot

Please no

Hmmm

Run it back and explain

The trees sung first

On sunny afternoon in long roads and liquid rushes

The trees began to sing

The swish and swosh of branches and leaves created music none like she'd ever seen

She stood

Struck

By melody, the sound, the harmony

She stood and with each blink the tears she held began to fall

They sang and sang and sang away

Next the sun

It danced

As trees sung the sun it moved, upward, outward, a sudden dance

A power, a ferocious moving object

Fearful and fearless

Tearing and jerking

It danced and danced and danced away

She stood and watched

Confused and frustrated and tired and tortured

Its moving she cried

Moving and moving she cried

A dance is war and also love

And what of two is there the fair?

[slimespecter]

mr ant

[blabberoo]

told myself i'd make a short sketches during my break time.. i made a whole ass comic

[hinamie]

how many hoodies can i give this kid

[forecast0ctopus]

creatures again

[bunnibombz]

Alpha! Simon who packs his overnight bag when Price called him for assistance, though a little apprehensive despite the other Alpha's reassurance. It would only be for a night or two. Your heat had gone on longer than it ever had before and showed no signs of stopping, John hadn't slept in nearly four days despite breaks and had reached his limit.

Alpha! Simon who is immediately on edge the moment he steps into the house. Filled with the scent of your heat and the protective pheromones of the Alpha chugging a bottle of water in front of him. The older Alpha reassured him again, running through the game plan like the military Captain he was. John would shower, eat, and sleep for an hour or two and then take over when need be.

Alpha! Simon who felt better about this situation knowing that you weren't bonded yet, wanting to wait until you were married next year. and also knowing that this scenario had been discussed in length before your heat with Simon in mind. Knowing you trusted him so much had his heart pounding.

Alpha! Simon who knew it wasn't conventual for an Alpha with their Omega in heat to ask another for help but was willing to do anything, especially for you.

Alpha! Simon who was all soft rumbling purrs and hushed tones when he opened the bedroom after being bid upstairs by Price when he heard you begin whimpering. You showed no signs of distress as he laid a warm hand against your shoulder, your scent brightening a bit and untying the knot that had formed in his stomach.

Alpha! Simon who practically melted under your touch as you pulled yourself into his arms, rubbing your scent on any bare skin you could find, his cock swelling and teeth aching under the thick pheromones of your heat

Alpha! Simon who, in an attempt to control his instincts, lays you down against the sheets despite your whines of protest and slots two of his fingers in your wet pussy with ease, stifling the satisfied growl that threatened to spill as your slick leaked down his fingers.

"s'allright Lovie, I'll take care of you for a bit," Simon murmured, throbbing in his pants when you began fucking yourself on his fingers as he curled and flexed them to reach that soft spot inside of you, "sweet little bunny, cum for me and I'll give it all to you"

[solacebean]

Woe, Nightgoober be upon ye

[blueskittlesart]

the silly guys (toby fox is actually evil for locking the greatest story ever told behind a bullet hell combat system)

[drawnbyraven]

live laugh lawlu

[utane]

They should kiss and start a secret affair about it and immediately get caught bc they are not slick at all