#YOUR LAMB GIVES ME THE WARM AND FUZZIES

[joffyworld]

VOID HEART GOAT DESIGN AAAAAAAHHHHHH

How the goat got that password (real)

[monsterloverwriting]

Imagine being religious and fcked in a church by a demon.

Like daily prayers, church going. Pretty much all out christian (or whatever u do), ending up in with a demon.

•Religious you who devoted their life to christ getting railed by a demon

•Religious you who was saving themself for marriage can no longer do so after her nights with her demon

•Religious you who wore a cross necklace clutching it around their neck as they get railed from behind.

•Religious you who prays for forgiveness after begging for more the night before.

You're speaking directly to my former Catholic guilt and I love it.

Religious you who is confused at first, not knowing your priest has been replaced by a demon. Even when his response to "Forgive me father for I have sinned, it's been a week since my last confession" is "Tell me my lamb what sins do you offer me"

Religious you who spouts off a list of menial things before you get to the lustful thoughts you've had recently about your new coworker, the 'priest' prompting you for more about this sin.

Religious you faltering as you try to stutter out your confession, face turning scarlet and body heating at the memory of what you did to yourself last night and the way the sensation of the maybe too large dildo lingers between your legs

Religious you shivering as you hear a long slow exhale from the other side of the confessional "Tell me my lamb, so that I may taste of your sins, exactly what you did."

Religious you going into reluctant but vivid detail about how you fucked yourself, he's a priest, surely he's heard worse.

Religious you who is all too slow to realize how hot your body is getting, how wet you feel between your thighs, as everything you describe feels like it's happening all over again. Turning into a squirming mess in your confessional seat as you feel the dildo you described, as if it's there again between your thighs.

Religious you who is squirming, wet, needy, feeling like you're being fucked in a confessional, all while new shame blossoms in your chest, doing nothing to calm the heat you feel when the 'priest' curses and you hear the door of his side slam open before your booth door is ripped open.

Religious you gasping when you see this isn't the father you were expecting but a tall, lithe, beast his chest heaving and pants obscenely tenting as he crowds into your booth, a forked tongue darting out to lick at your throat. "Dirty, sinful little thing. Give me your sins."

Religious you who doesn't hesitate to open your legs wider when you feel the flared tip of the definitely not a priests cock press against the sopping opening of your cunt.

Religious you nearly coming with a loud moan when you feel the flare of his cock head finally push into you with a pop.

Religious you getting pounded relentlessly into the hard unforgiving confessional bench, moaning and gripping at the rough armour like flesh of the demon as your mind grapples with the guilt and shame of truly loving the way the flare of his his cock makes your insides ripple with each hard unforgiving thrust.

Religious you being told "Pray louder while I fuck you. Scream to your god as you forsake them. Beg me to show them just how filthy you really are."

Religious you, a soaked, ruined, boneless mess after he cums in you, after you've come so many times you lost count after you started drooling.

Religious you being led out of the church on wobbly legs by your demon, now disguised as the priest once again. Being told for absolution "you must come back each week, we will keep track of your progress in resisting sin." The voice is too smooth, too sweet in your ear and the way it travels down your spine straight to your ruined cunt.

Religious you praying for forgiveness as you leave, legs wobbly, body fuzzy, and still warm. Pray forgiveness yes, but not the strength to resist this temptation.

[bamfkeeper]

Beautiful Devil

RQ: 'Hi, I have a request: a fic about NightcrawlerxFem!Reader, Beauty and the beast AU, starting it like the fairytale (Reader decide to sacrifice herself for her father because the scared man THINK the mysteriuos blue creature ask him to bring one of his daughters in his place). Maybe in the finale you can add the mob attacking the castle like in the episode of the '90 serie, with Graydon Creed guiding the mob (you can't look at that man and don't think he's a variant of Gaston). Just don't turn Kurt into a human, I love our fuzzy Elf. Thanks!' - @historygirl93

Warnings: F!reader, some violence, minor character death. Unedited.

A/N: I think this is a cute idea, I love the story. I don't see how Kurt could ever be viewed as 'beastly' he's too sweet. The fairytale is a longer story and involving all the details would take me a long time to write, so I did what I could to get the idea of the story across. I did my best, it was slightly challenging, and I changed just a few details just because I thought it would be better for the story.

WC: 2.2k

The village held such a prejudice against the blue demon who lived in the abandoned church. Rumors of yellow glowing eyes and a shadow with a devil's tail flicking in the dark, crawling on the walls like a hellish insect. A monster, the children of the village feared him just as much as the adults, whom had weapons ready to kill if he dared leave the cathedral.

Your father was highly religious. He wanted to banish the devil from the church once and for all, to purify the holy ground, but believed that only a sacrifice would satisfy the creature. You were horrified at first, being so helplessly given away as a sacrifice, you were the lamb that was about to be beheaded for no reason.

Upon being abandoned at the cathedral, surrounded by the harsh cold and snow, you thought you'd freeze to death. To your initial horror and surprise, the devil appeared. He flashed in front of you in black and purple smoke, like they rose from the ashes of Hell. You were far too tired and exhausted, so before you knew it, your body was wrapped and you were inside.

You felt the warmth of the fire inside the stone furnace, you sat up and watched the orange flames dance quietly while the blanket remained wrapped around your drenched form. The snow melted away and left you wet and still somewhat cold. But you were at least inside...

Once you regained enough bearings, you looked around for the devil, wondering where he was and what he was going to do to you. You felt fearful, your mind having heavy thoughts invading your mind of horrific treatment. While you searched the dark room, you saw his eyes peering to you from the darkest corner, tiny irises of gold staring through your soul.

"It's you..." your voice muttered out quietly, "You're the devil." Your hushed tone made him tilt his head slightly, he slowly walked around the wall, the far shadows hiding most of him.

"Nein...I am no Teufel..." he spoke back, his voice was even and not nearly as intimidating as you thought it would be. "I was born like this. But I am no demon." He stepped closer as he spoke to you, his appearance becoming more visible in the firelight. He had blue skin and sharp teeth like the villagers said, a long tail with a devil's spade, sharp nails and pointed ears...

"You look like one," you shakily retorted, still on edge of what his intentions were and you weren't about to fall victim without a fight. He only chuckled back, empty and somewhat...sad.

"I know."

He sat down near you, a few feet away, looking at you and slowly giving a smile, trying to be friendly. "I won't hurt you, I wouldn't ever." He paused, then continued, "Besides, a demon cannot step inside a church." He reasoned, holding out a three fingered hand to you. "Hab keine Angst."

You were cautious, but after seeing he wasn't nearly as horrifying as the town made him seem, you reached out and touched his hand. His skin was warm, he was fluffy. He felt like soft velvet, not like cold scaled skin you had been told was the skin of the devil.

Over the following weeks, you became closer to each other. You warmed up quickly after his efforts to try to appear not so scary, and once you spoke more often, he was actually very sweet and kind. You watched him feed birds and squirrels, holding the seeds in his palms and speaking to the birds as if they could understand him.

His favorites were the blue jays.

He showed you the cathedral, leading you through the massive church and showing you around. He showed you the library with lots of books along the walls, the studio where old paints and canvases were. He gave you plenty of things to do, and he provided you with good food, a large space to sleep, he treated you well. He was kind and sweet and...attractive.

You couldn't help but feel yourself get pulled towards him. Feel yourself get swept up by his chivalry and charm. He showed off in front of you, entertaining you with his skills as an acrobat and swordsman, he even let you try to swing one of his swords.

It was much heavier than you thought, making his skills all the more impressive.

You got word that your father had fallen very ill, and you wanted to see him. Kurt didn't want you to leave, scared you'd never return again. He held your hands and looked at you in the eye, his worry etched on his face. "You won't abandon me, will you?" he asks softly, "I don't wish for you to go..." he brings your hand up to his cheek, rubbing his face into your palm.

Your heart melts and you sigh, "I promise I'll come back. I just...want to make sure my father is okay..." you whisper back. You knew how he felt, being abandoned was one of his biggest fears. All he had been in his life was abandoned, by his mother, this town, sometimes he felt as though God himself has abandoned him.

With great reluctance, he let go and you rushed back into the village, desperate to see your sickly father. You were still angry he left you to die, but he was still your father. When you made it back, you came to his bedside and saw how terrible he looked. You had no idea what he had, but he looked on the verge of death.

Word got loose that you were in the town, somehow surviving the 'demon' who resided in the abandoned church. The town's greatest 'champion,' Graydon, nearly stormed up to your home and forced his way in. His voice loud and demanding, he as angry and furious with you.

The vile man had attempted to court you before. You always denied him. Why would you want to be with someone as crude and hateful as Graydon?

"How did you escape that wretched demon?" he demanded, yanking you from your father's bedside. He held your arm tight and stared at you with fury in his eyes. "That beastly creature will invade our town because of you! You were his sacrifice! Leaving signifies that the deal is broken! You've doomed all of us!"

Your eyes were wide as he basically screamed in your face, his cool was gone and he looked like he wanted to hurt you. You tugged against his strong hold, grunting as you tried to get free. "He's not a monster, or a demon! He's just a man!" You shouted back, "He's kind, gentle, he wouldn't hurt a soul!"

Graydon laughed at you, yanking you closer again. "You are lucky you are pretty, girl...you are such a naïve little thing. That devil is evil, and you have succumbed to his incubi ways. Don't worry, I'll make sure I fix that little head of yours up and rid you of the corruption he has brought upon you."

He threw you down, you hit your head and everything became a hazy mess. You heard his footsteps leave, his heavy boots hitting the old wooden floors with anger. You tried to lift yourself up, but you hit your head too hard. The world was spinning around you, but you didn't want any harm to come to Kurt. Graydon was as ruthless as he was egotistical, and he was dead set on murdering Kurt. He always had been, telling tall tales of cutting off his head and hanging it over the statue in town square.

You could hear his voice, rallying the town and heading up the treacherous path to the abandoned cathedral. You felt your heart ache, your body fading to unconsciousness from the injury.

When you regained consciousness, your body ached but the thought of Graydon already at the church gave you a newfound form of energy. You jerked up, your father had been too weak and sick to help, while you worried for him, the memory of him giving you up to die was there. You had to make a choice, and your heart had been decided.

You needed to get to the church.

You stumbled out to the stables, your body staggering as your brain felt fuzzy and heavy. You probably had a concussion, but right now that wasn't important. You didn't have a horse of your own, you prayed that the one you made it to wouldn't buck you off. The stallion let out a soft nicker, you rubbed its neck, your hand weakly holding onto the mane and you forced your body to mount.

The horse moved a few steps, adjusting to your weight. No saddle, it'll have to do.

You squeezed your legs and held on, the horse moved forward and with your encouragement it began a steady gallop through the trail that led up to the church. The horse was fast and bareback was hard for you to hold on, especially with a head injury. the horse sensed your wavering weight and tried to steady its run.

Over the hill was the church, and the stallion ran you right inside the broken down doors. You heard loud shouting, men fighting, and the sight that came to view was horrible.

Most of the men were down, unconscious, and Graydon was shooting arrows at Kurt, who had been disappearing in puffs of smoke, reappearing in other places. His yellow eyes blazed and he hissed at Graydon, landing kicks and punches to the larger man. You shouted at them to stop, but your voice fell on deaf ears.

The torches the other men had been carrying caught the tapestries and the flames eagerly began to eat the fabric and grow. The horse reared up, and you fell off its back as it ran out of the church. You sat up and cried out at Graydon, "Stop it! Don't hurt him! Can't you see what you're doing?!"

Kurt's teleporting soon became predictable, Graydon memorized the pattern and he shot an arrow into Kurt's leg right as he reappeared again. Kurt let out a strangled cry, stumbling from the beams and to the ground. By now the flames had consumed the entire room, smoke became thick and Graydon towered over Kurt's body. His eyes reflecting the fire, his face red and his hair a mess. He looked like the devil now, the fire only adding to his hellish desires to smite out Kurt's existence.

"Die, I cast you down to the pits of Hell where you belong!" Graydon tore a blade from his sheath, raising it above his head. But Kurt's eyes were focused on the burning wood above him, and he managed to teleport from that spot right as the wooden beams fell from the ceiling. Kurt reappeared by you, his fuzzy arms wrapped around yours as he teleported you outside. The last thing you saw in the church were the large beams falling onto Graydon's body, crushing him.

When you reappeared outside, you saw Kurt was hurt from the fight. He had two arrows in his body, one in his leg and one in his back, several lacerations from fighting the others and some parts of him had been burned. He let out a deep cough and he laid beside you, unresponsive.

"Kurt?? Kurt! Wake up!" You shook him, gently at first but it became more frantic when you noticed his lack of response. "Please get up!" You felt tears prick your eyes, your head swiveled around, looking for anyone to help. You weren't sure what to do, you felt hopeless. After you thought he was gone, his tail twitched at your side, gently curling up around your thigh weakly.

"Kurt??" You asked quickly, glancing down at him. You could see the exhaustion on his face, the weakness, but he nodded back. He gave you a weak smile, his yellow eyes soft and pure.

"Liebe..." he whispered back, his hand held yours and he pulled you closer. Your body naturally obeyed and you let your lips find his, both weakly pressing together as the two of you kissed for the first time. It felt so right, his hand cupped your face and his tail wrapped around you, being so weak but loving all at the same time.

You hadn't noticed the other townspeople had been watching from the trees, seeing how gentle and sweet you were to him. They could see that Kurt didn't resemble a creature of Hell like they thought, while he did seem odd looking, he didn't look to be horrific as they predicted. Their imaginations took over and the tall tales took over their logic.

When you broke the kiss, he smiled up at you. "You....came back..." he rasped, he was hurt still, but he was okay. He'd live. That's all you needed to know.

"Of course I came back...I told you I would..." you whispered sweetly, guilt gnawed at your core, "If I hadn't left then..."

Kurt cut you off, shushing you, "Nein, liebe...do not worry...the church can be rebuilt...I am going to be fine. What's another small scar? My fur will cover it anyway." He added, giving you a playful smile.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, "Oh, Kurt...don't make me laugh right now..." You muttered, some of the onlookers came to aid you in bringing him to the town to get treatment from the doctor there. You knew he'd be okay. The awful stories were debunked and the town appeared to accept him.

You had your love, safe and sound, and the real demon of the town had been snuffed to ash.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[pearlescentparade]

IM REQUESTING AZURE X TWO TIME X READER FLUFF where azure and two time learn to love eachother again through their relationship with reader. I suggested this to another author but im also greedy and impatient and i think you would do this MASTERFULLY honestly

also of course some attention to reader as well....polycule ever

(Yes I sent this at exactly 9:30pm. 🩷)

- 🎉

sometimes it takes the third who you and your ex both love to help you get back together

you and me and them🪻azure x 🔄 two time x reader fluff drabble 💝

"make sure we aren't forgetting anything before we leave!" you pull the back of your boot up to slot your heel inside, hand propped on the wall next to your front door for support.

you had managed to convince both of your partners to go out on a little date today! despite the initial hesitance from them both, they agreed if only to make you happy.

even if they flinch when they accidentally brush against the other while you're all cuddling, even if the room never fails to fall into a deafening silence the moment you leave them alone together, you didn't deserve to be burdened with the aftermath of their failure. and that's a sentiment they shared.

"bundle up, nightshade. it's cold." azure drapes another jacket over your shoulders. it's thick, fuzzy, and quite honestly a bit overkill. but azure refuses to give you anything less, lest he wants you to get sick.

meticulously, they begin to button up the coat for you. as they slide each button through its designated slits on the other half, the jacket feels progressively tighter, hugging your previous layers closer to your body.

nice, snug, and warm.

"i can do it myself, you know.." weakly, you peep out a protest from underneath the oversized jacket. though it's a bit late to do so, considering azure's already done with buttoning you up.

"your hands," azure takes up your hands in his for emphasis, "are completely frozen over. it'd be faster to do it for you."

you attempt to move your fingers, either to prove him wrong or to confirm if they're right. lo and behold, they're sluggish in their movement, as if the message transmission from your brain to your fingers was lagging.

azure gently rubs his thumb over your frigid digits and encases them fully in their own fingers. a futile attempt at warming them up, but no less thoughtful.

"if you wanted to hold my hands, you could've just said so." you look up into azure's narrow purple eyes, teasing in the lilt of your voice and the gaze in your eyes.

they squint back with a clever glint and a comeback on the tip of their tongue, "i-"

"oh lamb, don't you know the skin of the neck is incredibly sensitive?? you must take this scarf!"

a large piece of fabric suddenly covers about 75% of your vision when two time slips it over your head, sloppily wrapping it around your neck.

azure scoffs, "you didn't even put it on them correctly." they pull the scarf off, drape it around your neck again, bring both ends through the loop, then tie it into a neat knot. "you can be stupid in every other aspect, but i refuse to let you be careless about them."

two time frowns, "...sorry." their entire demeanor seems to droop, clearly disheartened.

"don't be harsh, azure.. they're only excited to help. thank you, timey!" their reward is a sweet peck on their forehead from you, which they receive with much enthusiasm, perking back up.

"we should head out now, let's go!" you slip out of the door, leaving your two partners still inside the house.

azure starts to follow, but stops in their tracks when he feels a hand on their wrist. he doesn't spare a glance back.

"what. what is it now? is it that even now you can't stop bringing me down?"

"..take these mittens, babe. it's cold."

azure looks back.

two time stares back.

a pair of black mittens are clasped in their other hand, now outstretched to azure.

"so you can be a good partner." azure's words are sharp as he slides the mitts onto his hands.

two time awkwardly chuckles, "a second chance does wonders! you can't say that trying love again with them hasn't done you any good either."

azure struggles with putting on the other mitten, the thickness of the already gloved hand making it a bit difficult.

"maybe. maybe we just needed to see new people."

two time takes the remaining mitten from azure, sliding it onto his other hand easily.

"maybe we just needed to be new people." they barely whisper, letting their hand hold azure's for a moment. the latter doesn't pull away, and they stand there in silence. not the usual tense ones, but a 'relishing the moment', comfortable sort.

"are you guys coming? that coffee shop i wanted to check out has a long line, so we should get going!" your voice rings out from outside, a sense of urgency evident in your chattering.

"ah, we've left them out in the cold for a while now." azure looks up at the sound of you.

"and you were scolding me about being careless? for shame!"

"oh, shut up."

firmly but not roughly, azure snatches two time by their wrist and leads them outside into the white winter snow, where you're waiting for them to catch up.

(parade postscript: i actually think i might throw up this evil ass polycule making me sick!!! /lh /silly

also the name is a reference to the visual novel you and me and her atgargargarg even tho the drabble is nothing like the vn 😨 i liked the sound of the name i think it fits ALSO IM BAVK ON MY PARALLELISM AND REPETITION SHIT AHAHHHGAGAGAG)

[sweetheartsofpanem]

Mint and Memory - Soft Things Survive

Previous Part

not me actually doing research for this series, i literally learned sm about medicinal herbs just so i could be accurate😭 sobbing and throwing up a lil bit from the ending bc i’ve put so much of my own feelings and experiences into Y/N

warnings: refer to series masterlist

pairing(s): refer to series masterlist

word count: 3.72k

series masterlist | main masterlist

The woods are quieter than usual today, like the breeze decided to hold its breath.

You follow just behind Katniss, watching the way she moves through the trees like she was born for it—sure-footed, quiet, eyes always scanning. The sunlight filters through the leaves, warm on your arms as you trail after her, basket in hand.

She crouches beside a patch of green near the base of an old oak. “Peppermint,” she says, running her fingers gently over the leaves. “It helps with pain and headaches. You crush it to release the oil.”

You nod, crouching beside her and mimicking the motion. “It smells… clean.”

Katniss glances at you. “You’ll get used to identifying it by scent. There’s a difference between this and spearmint. Subtle, but it matters.”

She plucks a few leaves and drops them into the basket you’re carrying. You’ve done this together enough now that there’s a rhythm—she identifies, explains, harvests, and you listen, ask questions when you’re brave enough, carry the basket like it’s a small price for her time.

“You remember what this one is?” she asks, tapping a short plant with pale purple flowers.

You frown, reaching down to brush the leaves between your fingers. “Lamb’s ear?”

She nods. “Good for wounds. Stops bleeding and helps fight infection.”

You smile faintly. “The fuzzy one. I remember because it feels like touching a cloud.”

Katniss actually cracks a smile at that. “That’s what my dad used to say.”

The mention of her father hangs in the air for a moment—soft, reverent—but she doesn’t seem to pull away from it. If anything, she seems a little more open out here, in the woods where she probably feels him most.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, stopping occasionally to harvest more herbs. You point out burdock by a streambed, and Katniss raises an eyebrow, impressed. “Not bad.”

“I’m learning from the best,” you say, only a little sarcastic.

She snorts. “Try saying that when you’ve got poison ivy in your socks.”

“I’ll just blame you,” you quip.

She gives you a look, dry and amused. “Then I’ll tell Haymitch you almost cried when you were talking to Peeta about the shoulder incident.”

You gasp in mock horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

You shake your head, but your grin doesn’t fade. There’s something about being out here, with her, that makes things feel easier—more grounded. Like the worst parts of the world can’t quite touch you in the dappled sunlight and the smell of crushed leaves.

Katniss stops at the base of a slope and crouches beside another plant, long-stemmed with narrow leaves. “Yarrow,” she murmurs. “Another one for wounds.”

You nod, committing the name to memory. “You ever think you missed your calling as an apothecary?”

She shrugs. “If things had been different… maybe.”

You don’t say it, but you think she would’ve been good at it. She’s precise, thoughtful, always watching. The kind of person who doesn’t say much unless she means it. You trust her, even when you don’t know how to trust yourself.

Your thoughts drift to the familiar ache on your upper thighs. It’s been worse today, lingering and dull beneath the surface, tugging at your attention.

You shift your weight. “Hey… is there anything that helps with old scars aching?”

Katniss glances up at you, her eyes catching on your wrists for a second. “Scars?”

You nod. “The scars on my thighs. Some days, they just… hurt. I think it’s because they’re worse.”

She studies you for a moment, then nods. “Mint oil helps. Especially when you mix it into a balm. I can show you how.”

You blink. “Really?”

She stands, dusting off her hands. “We’ve got most of what we need already. Come on—we’ll get the rest and make it back before the heat really sets in.”

Katniss doesn’t say much as you walk, but she doesn’t need to. Her presence alone feels steadying—like being tethered to solid ground. You fall into step beside her, the basket swinging between you, filled with mint, yarrow, lamb’s ear, and a few other herbs you’ve learned to recognize by name and scent.

She points out a low-growing plant with small, round leaves. “Plantain,” she says. “Good for inflammation. We’ll use it in the base.”

You crouch to gather some, mimicking her careful fingers. “Do you just… know all of this? Like, from memory?”

“Mostly,” she says. “Some from books. But mostly from my dad.”

There’s that quiet again. Not uncomfortable, just thoughtful. You glance at her as you stand.

“I remember when he overheard my mom screaming at me once, made him promise not to tell my dad and he said he wouldn’t as long as I came to your house if it got too bad.”

You never did go to her house on the days it was worse, too scared to admit that your own mother believed you were worth nothing.

She nods, smiling softly. “He was good like that.”

You don’t say more. The weight of shared grief doesn’t need to be spoken. You both understand what it is to miss someone who made the world feel a little safer.

By the time you return to her house, the sun is higher and the air heavier. Katniss leads you into the kitchen and nods toward the sink. “Wash everything. Gently. I’ll get the supplies.”

You do as you’re told, scrubbing your hands first, then rinsing the herbs under cool water. The smell of mint hits you hard—clean and sharp, like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room.

Katniss moves efficiently around the kitchen, pulling jars from shelves, a small pot from a cabinet, beeswax and olive oil from a basket. She doesn’t explain at first, but you don’t mind. Watching her move is its own kind of lesson.

“Here,” she says, passing you a clean towel. “Pat everything dry. We don’t want water in the balm.”

You nod, following her lead. She grates a bit of beeswax into the pot and adds oil, setting it on the stove at the lowest heat.

“When it melts, we’ll add the herbs. Let it steep.”

You blink at her. “You make this sound way too easy.”

She smirks. “It’s not hard. Just takes patience. And not setting things on fire.”

You glance at the stove with mock suspicion. “No promises.”

Katniss snorts, then gestures for you to join her. Together, you add the mint and plantain to the melted mixture, stirring slowly. The smell rises almost instantly—cool, earthy, calming.

You watch the mixture swirl in the pot. “Feels weird making something like this. Like I’m doing something good for myself.”

Katniss shrugs. “You are.”

You nod slowly, swallowing the lump that rises in your throat. “Feels… selfish, sometimes.”

Her gaze flicks toward you, sharp but not harsh. “It’s not.”

You nod again. “I know. Just… hard to undo that kind of thinking.”

Katniss says nothing for a moment, just stirs. Then she murmurs, “That kind of thinking usually isn’t yours to begin with. Someone put it there.”

You glance at her, surprised by how closely her words hit the mark.

But again, she doesn’t push. Just waits until the mixture darkens and the herbs have given everything they can, then strains it into a small jar to cool.

“Try it tonight,” she says. “Rub it into the scars. Should ease the ache.”

You study the jar before glancing over at her. “Thanks.”

She shrugs. “You helped make it.”

You offer a small smile. “Still. You didn’t have to.”

The balm cools on the counter, its soft, pale green surface gleaming under the kitchen light. You and Katniss leave it there while she heats water for tea, and you both settle at the table. There’s something easy in the air now, like the stillness after rain.

Peeta arrives first, his boots scuffing the porch before the door creaks open.

“Smells good in here,” he says, brushing dirt off his hands as he walks in. “Mint?”

“Homemade balm,” Katniss says without looking up. “For her scars.”

Peeta’s eyes flick to you, gentle and curious. “They hurting again?”

You nod, but it doesn’t feel as vulnerable saying it this time. “A little. It’s worse when the weather shifts.”

“Didn’t know you were getting into medicine now,” he says, nudging your shoulder lightly as he passes to grab a cup. “You’re gonna put me out of a job.”

You snort. “Pretty sure baking and balm-making are two separate industries.”

Peeta shrugs. “Still. You’re on thin ice.”

Katniss rolls her eyes. “You’ll live.”

You sip the tea Katniss slides in front of you, watching the way they bicker softly, the way the edges of your own defenses seem to dissolve in this space. It’s strange—how comfortable it’s starting to feel. How much you’ve grown to rely on these moments, even if you still doubt them on bad days.

The door creaks open again.

“God,” Haymitch calls from the doorway. “The smell in here’s like a damn apothecary and a bakery got in a fight.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Peeta calls back without turning around.

Haymitch steps into the kitchen, flask already in hand, and eyes the jar on the counter. “What’s this? Secret potion? Love spell? Poison?”

“Balm,” Katniss says flatly.

“For her,” Peeta adds, nodding toward you.

Haymitch squints. “You’ve gone fully domestic, haven’t you?”

You sip your tea innocently. “Just wait ‘til I start knitting.”

“I’ll burn the place down,” Haymitch mutters, sliding into the chair next to you.

Katniss raises an eyebrow. “Thought you were all about chaos.”

“Chaos, sure,” he says, “but not decorative yarn chaos.”

You laugh under your breath, and Peeta sets down a small bowl of berries from the garden—strawberries, blackberries, and a few wild ones you can’t name.

“Thought these might go well with the tea,” he says, sliding them to the center of the table.

“Perfect,” Katniss murmurs, already reaching for one.

You follow suit, plucking a particularly ripe-looking strawberry and popping it into your mouth. The sweetness hits instantly, and you hum in approval.

Haymitch watches the exchange with a smirk. “You two having another one of your bonding tea parties?”

“Jealous?” you shoot back, licking a bit of juice from your thumb.

“Deeply,” he deadpans.

Peeta chuckles and leans back in his chair, brushing a smear of dirt from his shirt. “I think he’s just upset you don’t invite him to herb lessons.”

Haymitch scoffs. “Yeah, no. I don’t care about flowers and leaves.”

You snort, picking out another berry. “You know, you say that, but I bet you’d actually love it. Bet you’ve got a soft spot for chamomile.”

Haymitch raises his flask slightly in mock salute. “Only if it’s steeped in something stronger.”

“Does everything have to be alcohol with you?” Katniss mutters, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“It’s a hobby,” he says, then glances at you. “Like your sudden obsession with plants. You start naming weeds in your sleep yet?”

You shrug. “Only the deadly ones.”

“That’s my girl,” Haymitch grins.

The words settle strangely in your chest—unexpectedly warm. Your gaze flickers to him, but he’s already stealing a berry from the bowl, his face the picture of innocence.

Katniss watches the exchange silently, something unreadable in her expression. She doesn’t say anything, just shifts slightly to rest her elbow on the table, chin in her hand.

“I still can’t get over using mint for the balm,” you say, turning back to her. “I thought it was just for tea.”

“It’s one of the best herbs for soothing inflammation,” she says. “My dad used it for burns and joint aches. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try.”

Haymitch squints at you. “Wait, is that what you two were doing earlier? Frolicking through the woods like little apothecaries?”

Katniss doesn’t even blink. “Yes. We frolicked.”

“Braided each other’s hair too, I bet.”

“Peeta braided mine once,” you offer with a grin.

“That was one time,” Peeta says, hands raised. “And you asked.”

“You did a good job,” you say sweetly, turning to Katniss. “He’s got gentle hands.”

Katniss snorts into her tea. “That’s the nicest insult I’ve ever heard.”

Peeta only rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

You lean back in your chair, letting the chatter fade around you for a moment. It’s easy here—too easy, some quiet part of your brain whispers. The kind of easy that makes you nervous. Like the second you stop guarding it, it’ll slip away.

You shake the thought loose.

“Alright,” you say, grabbing another berry. “Who wants to learn the difference between yarrow and poison hemlock?”

Haymitch makes a face. “Why the hell would I want to know that?”

You pop the berry into your mouth. “So you don’t die, for starters.”

Katniss nods sagely. “Important life skill.”

Peeta nudges the bowl toward Haymitch. “We’ll make you a study guide.”

“Make me a drink instead.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s already your solution to everything.”

“Exactly. Why fix what’s not broken?”

“Fine,” you say, leaning your elbows on the table. “But if you keel over from picking the wrong plant, I’m not carrying you home.”

“Good,” Haymitch mutters.

Peeta chuckles. “We’ll just wheel him back in the wheelbarrow.”

Haymitch lifts an eyebrow at you. “See what you’ve done? Got the boy thinking he’s funny.”

“I’ve always been funny,” Peeta argues lightly, wiping his hands on a cloth.

Katniss tilts her head. “In a very polite, bakery-adjacent way.”

Peeta gasps, mock offended. “I take that as the highest compliment.”

You shake your head, laughter bubbling in your chest before you can stop it.

Katniss stands and stretches, her arms arching overhead as she steps out into the small patch of sunlight spilling through the open kitchen window. “I need to check on the herbs I’m drying upstairs,” she says. “Y/N, you still want that lesson on storing them?”

You blink, surprised but pleased. “Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

She nods and gestures for you to follow. As you push up from your chair, Haymitch leans back and rests his hands behind his head.

“Don’t let her teach you too much,” he says lazily. “Next thing I know you’ll be growing roots.”

Peeta grins as you trail Katniss into the living room. “Try not to get recruited into her herb cult,” he calls after you.

“No promises,” you call back, and Katniss just shakes her head without turning around.

The upstairs of their house is quiet, filled with the scent of drying herbs and something faintly sweet—lavender, maybe, or thyme. You trail behind Katniss as she moves toward a table near the window, where bundles of plants are tied and hung with careful precision.

“I forgot how peaceful it is here,” you say softly, fingers brushing the dried edge of a sprig of mint. “Everything in District 13 felt… clinical.”

Katniss hums. “Yeah. That place didn’t know what to do with quiet.”

She sits on the edge of the table and begins carefully sorting through a pile of dried leaves. “This one,” she says, holding up a small, curled plant, “you’ll want to keep sealed tight. It loses strength fast.”

You nod, absorbing her instructions more easily than you expect to. Something about Katniss’ voice when she’s teaching—steady, calm—makes it easier to focus.

She glances at you after a moment. “You really like this stuff, don’t you?”

You nod. “It reminds me of my dad. He used to point out plants to me when I was little. I don’t remember much, but… I remember how his voice sounded when he talked about them. Like he was telling me something sacred.”

Katniss is quiet for a long beat. Then she says, without looking up, “I remember that too. Your dad used to bring my dad these weird root clippings to mess around with. They’d argue about the best way to boil pine bark for hours.”

You smile faintly. “That sounds right.”

There’s a long, comfortable silence before Katniss adds, “He was a good man. Kind.”

Your throat tightens. “He was.”

“You’re like him,” she says, and it’s not soft, exactly, but it’s genuine.

You blink down at the table, something in you cracking just a little. Not in a bad way. Just enough to let some light in.

“I hope so,” you say quietly.

Katniss doesn’t respond. She just keeps working, methodical and calm.

After a while, she tosses you a bundle of yarrow and tells you to get to work.

You start mimicking Katniss’ motions—careful, deliberate, though your hands are slower. She doesn’t correct you unless she has to, and when she does, it’s brief, straightforward. No judgment, just facts.

“You’re better at this than you think,” she says after a moment, not looking up from her own bundle.

You glance at her, surprised. “You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not,” she replies, tying off a bundle of mint with practiced ease. “If I didn’t think you could handle it, I wouldn’t waste my time.”

That makes you smile. It’s the Katniss version of a compliment—half a threat, half encouragement. Somehow it means more than anything softer.

You both finish what you’re working on, the quiet not awkward but settled, like a breath held steady.

She stands, brushing plant dust off her hands. “Come on,” she says. “If we leave Haymitch and Peeta alone too long, they’ll start debating which one of them is the real culinary genius.”

You snort. “Spoiler: it’s neither.”

Katniss lets out a low, amused breath and leads the way back down the stairs.

The stairs creak as you and Katniss descend, the scent of mint still clinging to your fingers. You step into the living room to find Peeta now sitting cross-legged on the rug, sketching something in a small notebook. Haymitch is in your usual chair, looking far too comfortable and vaguely smug.

“Look who survived botany boot camp,” Haymitch says, tipping his flask in your direction.

“We made a potion up there,” you reply, brushing a stray leaf from your shirt. “Might use it to poison you.”

Katniss grabs a berry from the bowl on the coffee table and pops it into her mouth, eyeing the both of them. “You two need hobbies.”

“This is my hobby,” Peeta says, tapping the edge of his drawing. “And baking.”

“Annoying me is his hobby,” Haymitch mutters.

You snort and settle on the floor near Peeta, peering over at his sketch. It’s not quite finished—some kind of plant, delicate lines shading in the leaves. Your stomach twists with something you can’t quite name. He’s always creating. Always turning something small into something beautiful.

“You drew that from memory?” you ask.

Peeta shrugs, almost sheepish. “I liked the way the light hit it earlier. Figured I’d try to keep it.”

Katniss sits close to him, cross-legged like she’s preparing for a strategy meeting. “You should show her the ones you’ve been hiding.”

Peeta stiffens, but only slightly. “They’re not finished.”

“They’re better than finished,” Katniss replies.

You glance between them. “What’s this?”

Peeta hesitates, then flips a few pages ahead and tilts the notebook so you can see. Your breath catches.

It’s… you.

Not just one drawing, but small moments. You, sitting on the porch with a blanket over your knees. You, holding a mug of tea and staring out the window. You, asleep with your head tipped against the couch.

Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

“They’re not all great,” Peeta says quickly. “Just… I draw what feels quiet. That’s all.”

You swallow thickly, your eyes still on the page. “I didn’t know I looked like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like… someone worth seeing.”

Peeta doesn’t respond, just gives you a small, steady smile.

Haymitch clears his throat loudly, and you glance over to see him watching with a slightly uncomfortable expression.

“If we’re done with the sap,” he says, “someone pass the damn berries.”

Katniss tosses him one without warning, and it hits him square in the chest. You burst out laughing as he fumbles to catch it before it rolls off his lap.

“Violence,” he mutters. “Always with the violence.”

Katniss tosses another berry at Haymitch, this one intentionally softer, and Peeta catches her hand before she can reach for more.

“Alright, that’s enough aggression for one night,” he says, his voice light but fond. He pulls her hand toward him, brushing his lips over her knuckles in a gesture so easy, so instinctive, it makes something in your chest tug.

Katniss rolls her eyes, but her mouth twitches at the corners. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet you’re still here,” he murmurs, and she doesn’t argue. She just leans against him slightly, her shoulder bumping his as she steals a berry from his hand without looking.

It’s not overly romantic. It’s not flashy or dramatic. It’s just… soft. Natural. Familiar.

You watch them for a moment longer than you mean to, that quiet warmth from earlier starting to turn bittersweet.

It must be nice, you think, to have that. Something steady. Someone who sees all your sharp edges and doesn’t flinch. Someone who chooses you even when it’s inconvenient.

For a second, you let yourself imagine it. What it would feel like to be touched like that—to be held like you’re worth holding. To be loved like it’s not a risk.

But then the thought slips, and another voice takes its place. A cruel one. Familiar.

The only people stupid enough to love you are already dead.

It’s your mother’s voice, cold and matter-of-fact, slicing through the quiet of the room like broken glass.

Your stomach knots.

You glance down at your hands in your lap, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place they look here—how out of place you look, surrounded by people who belong to each other in ways you don’t.

You press your fingernails into your palm, grounding yourself in the sting.

Don’t spiral, you tell yourself. Not here. Not now.

You manage a soft smile when Peeta glances your way, and he doesn’t question it. Just offers you another berry from the bowl, like nothing’s wrong. Like you aren’t fighting a war with your own mind.

You take it.

Because for now, pretending is easier than explaining.

Next Part

[quinntessentialquixotic]

@aka-indulgence I heard it was your birthday not too long ago!! So, take this as a belated birthday gift :))

I do hope you'll be happy with it; it's the first thing I've written since January, so I hope it won't disappoint! <3

¸ ¸ ♬ · ¯ · ♩ ¸ ¸ ♪ · ¯ · ♫ ¸ ¸ ¸ ♬ · ¯ · ♩ ¸ ¸ ♪ · ¯ · ♫ ¸ ¸

As you push open the door to the café, you shiver, pulling your fuzzy coat tightly around your body. The door closes behind you and you glance around, taking in the cozy café for the nth time.

Killer is idly throwing and catching a knife in his hands until he sees you, casually setting the weapon aside. His Soul transforms into a light pink and he gives you a big grin. "heeeya. couldn't sleep again?"

You can help but smile back, shaking your head as you head to the counter. "Unfortunately, it seems like I'm destined to have a backwards sleep schedule. It's a good thing this place is only open at night."

"you could say it's fate," he winks one of his empty eyesockets.

Laughing softly, your eyes observe the empty store. "By the way, where's Horror and Dust?"

"dusty's takin' out the trash and probably outside for a smoke break. horror is in the kitchen, i think." He rears his skull back to check in the back of the store, past the open doorway. "oi, horror! your little lamb is here!"

There's a huge clang as Horror presumably drops something. Several more loud noises follow as he scrambles to get himself together before he appears out of the kitchen, his eyelights on you. "...hi." As he takes in your form, the black pinprick in the middle of his red eyelights expands, not unlike a cat's.

You smile kindly at him, "hullo. How's your night been?"

He takes a moment to respond, gathering his courage. "...better, now that you...you're here." A warm red blush spreads across his cheekbones as he gazes at you.

"Awh, that's so sweet of you." You can't help the smile (and slight blush) that comes across your face.

Killer sighs dramatically, "you're supposed to be paying attention to me!" He demands, "what's your order, darling?"

You giggle, "uhm...I'm thinking..." You blink, "well, shit, I'm actually conflicted on what to get..." Groaning, you lean on the counter, glancing at both Horror and Killer. "What do you guys think? Should I get some hot chocolate or some warmed, spiced milk?"

The latter answers immediately, "hot chocolate, of course." He smirks, leaning against the cashier. "after all, your drink should be as sweet as you are."

Choking, you clear your throat, flustered. "Damn, that's...that's..." You avert your eyes. "That's certainly something..." You clear your throat again.

"i think the milk would be better. it's less heavy and it's proven to help people fall asleep." Horror counters, his working eyesocket narrowing at Killer.

"It seems we're at an impasse," you frown, grumbling. "Oh, hey, I know! Can you guys get Dust and Nightmare, please? I know there's four of you, but you can maybe come to an agreement...?" You ask, hopeful.

The two of them stare at you for a moment before mumbling various forms of agreement, a blush staining both of their cheekbones. Horror leaves the front counter first, going into the kitchen and to Nightmare's office whilst Killer finds Dust, who should be outside.

You wait patiently, taking off your coat, since the café is heated decently. Setting it on the back of a chair, you lean down to check on the pastries in the display case, your stomach growling as your mouth waters. "I should get something to eat..." You mumble to yourself.

It's almost as if it's perfect timing since the four monster skeletons soon join you at the front of the shop. You straighten yourself, smiling at all of them. “Welcome back…and good evening, Nightmare, Dust.”

Nightmare greets you pleasantly, “Good evening, my dear.”

Dust remains silent, glaring at his feet. You glance at him, curious and a tad concerned. However, before you can open your mouth to speak, he interrupts you. “killer told me that you don't know what kinda drink you want. i’m agreeing with him, by the way. i think you should have the hot chocolate. it's as sweet as you a-”

“loooooser, i already used that line!” Killer cackles, slapping the back of Dust’s skull, causing him to glare at him.

“what.”

Killer winks.

“bitch.”

You're unable to stifle the small giggle that escapes your mouth as Nightmare separates the two of them with his tentacles. “Behave, or I'll toss both of you in the dungeons.” He warns sternly, glaring at the two of them in frustration. Nightmare then turns to you, “My apologies, love, my employees don't know how to shut up.”

“O- Oh, no…it's alright.” You smile at him, amused. “Makes it more fun for me.”

He laughs, smiling softly at you. “If you say so. But with the decision of your drink, I do believe that milk is the best choice, served with honey and cinnamon, of course.”

“Mm…” you sigh. “Yeah, that sounds really nice. I think I'll have that and a couple of cookies.” You turn to Horror. “I'm assuming you made them..?”

He nods shyly and you reply with a gentle smile, “then I'll know it's going to be good.”

You go to get your wallet out of your purse, but Nightmare stops you. “It's on the house. After all, you're our favourite customer.”

You can't help the blushes that spreads across your cheeks and the warm, fuzzy feeling inside of you. “Thanks…you guys really are the best.”

[johnpriceslamb]

Can u write Charles Smith as a caregiver :)?

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𐙚 Charles Smith as a caregiver !!!

As lovely as a sunflower, and as warm as the sun. Charles Smith is the genuine embodiment of the best caregiver.

He may be firm at times, but he’s like that to ensure you’re safe and well-taken care of. A little whine when things don’t exactly go your way would backfire with a stern stare from him, to which immediately makes you shush up. Don’t worry, he gives you a gentle kiss on your cheek afterwards.

Other times, he’s always checking up on you. He likes feeding you, cooing softly at your cuteness as your wee mouth opens up for the spoon of yummy fruits and what-not come into your mouth. He can’t resist and gently pinches your chubby cheeks when you munch.

But most times? He’s just dada. Requests from your little self never go unfulfilled. Oh, you want your hair styled in a certain way? Anything for my little princess. You want to lay on dada? His lap or his shoulder is always free. You want kissies? muwah. One for your cheek, and one for your lips! His favourite spot when kissing you is your chubby cheeks, of course.

“oh, my.” His warm gaze makes your tummy feel fuzzy and funny, like a bunny! A giggle escapes your little-self, to which he could only shake his head with a small smile etched on his face.

“Now what have we here, hm?” His hands come to gently pry the tea-cup out of your hand and onto a light-pink coster, to assure that nothing bad happens. He doesn’t want his little bun to get injured now.

“A tea party!” You babble sweetly. The scene in-sight was of your stuffed animals sitting around a little table, with a tea-set on top. You held a teacup, which was now placed on the table because of Charles’ little handiwork.

Charles couldn’t help but smile lightly, “I see. May I join this tea-party?” He asks with such a sweet, gentle tone, it makes you so happy and giddy.

“Sit next to me, dada,” You peep, crawling to sit next to a plushie so he could come and sit next to you. He was observant, the little onesies he bought not long ago is worn on your body. You were so much alike of a little lamb, and he was proud of his little lamb.

You pretend to pour tea into his cup, and you giggle with happiness as he ‘sips’ his tea, “This is lovely. Did you brew this yourself, little one?” Your response was to just crawl onto his lap, clinging onto dada with a big smile.

“Ah, who am I kidding? Of course you brewed this tea. Only my little one can make the best tea,” he boops your nose with a finger.

[spectrechosts]

Vandalize My Heart - Chapter 3

More demonic temptations, and a glimpse of hell.

Full Series

Lilith smiled, feeling a familiar tug at the fabric of her twisted soul. The nun was summoning her again, how adorable.

She carefully extracted herself from a tangle of sleepy limbs, and a chorus of whines followed her.

"Mistress? Where are you going? What is it, Mistress? Are you having trouble sleeping?"

"Shh, my lovelies. Mistress has to go work on the new girl now, go back to sleep."

"The new girl? Will you bring her back? Can we meet her? Is she ready?"

"Not yet, darlings." She purred, clothing herself in a puff of smoke and giving each of her beloved concubines a quick kiss. All the succubi loved her, and she held an affection for all of them in turn, but there was just something so special about the girls she corrupted herself. "This one is skittish. She doesn't know she wants to be mine yet, you'll scare her."

That made them pout.

"No we won't! We're so nice! She'll love us!"

"I'm sure she will." Lilith cooed. "Later. Be back in a bit, dearests."

~

"You did something to me." Grace said, jutting an accusatory finger at Lilith.

"Little lamb, I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play dumb!" The girl squeaked. "You did something, and now I keep thinking about you, you invade my dreams, I want answers, now! I command-"

"Drat, I'm being commanded." Lilith said mockingly. "I suppose I have no choice."

"You don't!"

"Well, since the jig is up, I have done something to you. It's one of my most devious tricks, not even the most chaste and devoted can resist it."

"Oh no…" The nun said, eyes big and fearful.

"Oh yes. I believe in your human tongue, they call it a hug." Lilith said smugly. "Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and you just can't help but want more."

"I- You-"

"-Am not some petty enchantress, beguiling your mind with spells." She finished for her. "I have no need for such paltry tricks, Grace. I offer true satisfaction, the fulfillment of all desires."

She paused, for dramatic effect.

"Make your bargain, little lamb."

The nun fidgeted nervously, hesitant. That was fine, she had all the time in the world.

...

Still, there were so many better things she could be doing with all that time. She had left a very comfortable cuddle pile to be here, after all.

"I can always find another, if you have no bargain to make."

"I- I do!"

"Well?"

...

Nothing.

"Little lamb…"

"D-Don't make me say it." The nun mumbled, blushing.

Lilith's pupils dilated. Her body temperature jumped a few degrees, internal fire stoked by her request.

"You would ask me to interpret your desires?"

The girl shrugged. "Sure, I dunno, whatever."

Lilith felt her heart race, her cock stiffen and throb. The girl had given her complete freedom to break her, to show her such ecstasy that she would be hers forever, and she didn't even realize it. A lesser succubus would soak her panties just dreaming of an opportunity like this.

But Lilith was not a lesser succubus, she was a queen, and a queen knew that such delicacies as Grace were to be savored, not scarfed down the moment you had them in your grasp.

She would restrain herself. Peel back just one of the many layers repressing the nun's desires, relish in watching it evaporate just for her. When she took Grace completely, it would be because she asked knowing full well what it meant, and it would be so much sweeter for it.

"Very well, little lamb, I can give you what you require." She hummed. "But. Since you will not voice your request, you will not hear my price until it is time to collect. Do we have a deal?"

"What? N-No, you'll steal my soul or something-"

"I am no trickster, Grace." She rumbled. So annoying, when people refused to understand how she operated. "My price is fair, your soul will be mine when you offer it freely to me. Do we have a deal?"

The nun hesitated, but did not reject her offer. Lilith had noticed, upon her entry into this realm, that Grace hadn't placed a salt barrier this time. She summoned her knowing she had no way to contain her, which meant she in some small way trusted her not to wreak havoc.

She needed to nurture that trust. The actual price of her service was inconsequential compared to Grace agreeing to it with only her word that her soul would be safe.

"…Fine." The nun huffed. "This had better be worth it."

"Oh, it will be." Lilith said, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Come here, little lamb."

Grace sat next to her, nervous.

"Oh, oh you are simply too cute!" Lilith purred, lifting the girl into her lap. "This is where I want you, precious."

"I-I, um-" Grace stammered. "I think I'm sitting on your tail?"

"You are not." Lilith hummed, swishing her tail around and tapping her on the nose with it.

"Ah." The nun squeaked, turning such an appetizing shade of pink.

"Just think of that as something to look forward to. Tonight is all about you, though the thought of pinning you down and ravishing you in the tatters of your prudish little robe excites me."

Grace was so tense, Lilith couldn't wait to loosen her up. But she had to exercise restraint. Leave her wanting more, so she'd summon her again.

"Tell me, did you take a vow of celibacy?" She husked into her ear.

The nun nodded hastily, and Lilith shivered with delight. Breaking a nun's vow of celibacy in a convent, fuck it was all so hot.

"Lost your voice again?" She purred. "That's okay. I know what you need."

Gentle, a gentle touch was required. The nun was shy, she had to open her up slowly. A treat to be devoured.

…Savored. The word she was looking for was savored.

Her tail slithered beneath Grace's habit, hiking it up slowly as she kissed her neck. She held her close, fondling her curves through the fabric.

A soft moan escaped Grace's lips, and the nun quickly clasped her hand to her mouth to stifle any further sounds.

Cute. Lilith knew what her price would be, when it came to it. In the meantime, she ran a claw up Grace's now-exposed thigh. This form wouldn't do. She held her hands out and her grisly talons evaporated away, leaving only neatly trimmed nails on her long, slender fingers.

The rest of her demonic features could stay, the nun would learn to appreciate them in time.

The nun stifled a gasp as those long fingers slipped down the front of her panties, gliding across wet folds so sinfully slowly. Lilith felt her arousal spike, the hair on her neck standing on end as her body drank in the girl's lust and turned it to infernal power. Her breath steamed, heat rolled off her in waves.

"Can you feel what you do to me, little lamb?" She husked, sinking her fingers into Grace's pussy. "Oh, the things I could show you, if you only ask."

Lilith barked out a cruel laugh.

"Oh but you didn't ask. You can't. So you only get a taste."

The nun just kept moaning into her palm. She probably didn't even appreciate how much restraint it took to tease her like this, to let her marinate in her own lust until she was perfect.

Lilith giggled into Grace's neck as her ministrations drove the nun deeper into her desires. It was almost time, she could feel her approach the edge as if she were an extension of her own body, she knew just how to keep her tantalizingly close but not quite there.

Fuck, being a succubus was so goddamn fun.

"Your breath quickens, little lamb. Your legs shake. Do you know what that means?" She purred.

The nun's only answer was another muffled moan.

"That's right, it means it's time for you to pay up."

Lilith pried Grace's hand from her mouth.

"W-Wait-!" She protested, struggling to keep her voice down.

"I want to hear you cum, Grace. I want you to feel how good it feels not to hold yourself back from your own pleasure. That is my price, for tonight."

Grace whined as Lilith stopped teasing and began pushing her over her peak.

"You don't have to be loud, simply let your voice out naturally. That's all I ask."

A shaky gasp escaped the nun's lips, and she flailed her arm about looking for something to hold onto. She settled on gripping the base of one of Lilith's horns, tugging her in and ripping a low growl from her throat.

She could feel the growl turn her on. How interesting that was.

But there was no time to dwell on that. She was relentless, and the nun was inexperienced, and with a strained groan Grace bucked into her hand and came. She cried sharply as she crested her peak, and Lilith wrung a few extra good moans out of her as she came down before pulling her slick fingers from her cunt.

"Our bargain is fulfilled, little lamb. I can't wait for next time." Lilith hummed, kissing the now trembling nun deeply before returning to hell.

~

"Oh! Hi Mistress!"

Lilith smiled as she materialized in her palace, one of her precious girls right there to attend to her.

"Hello, darling. You're very lucky, you know why?"

"Nope! Why?"

"You get to stay in bed and cuddle with mistress all day tomorrow." She purred, before her voice took on a harsh edge. "Because I'm all pent up from teasing the new girl, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk."

"Okay!" The succubus said, eyes sparkling. "Do you want to take me to the bedroom or just fuck me right here?"

Savoring the nun was a worthwhile endeavor to be sure, but goddamn did it make it easier having a harem of succubi to take the edge off of waiting.

"Here's great, beautiful."

[glacierclan]

GlacierClan Kits: The Snow-Calves

Appearance:

Noticeably larger than kits from other Clans—even at birth. Their paws are huge and round, making them look like they’re “wearing snowshoes.”

Covered in incredibly shaggy, puffball-like fur that fluffs out in every direction. Even their ears and tails are thick with fuzz.

Fur tends to cover their eyes and muzzle, giving them an adorably clumsy look until they grow into it.

Often chubby-looking, with round bellies, short legs, and droopy cheeks, making them resemble Highland cattle calves or lambs.

Many have natural curls or woolly tufts, especially along their necks and rumps.

“They don’t mewl, they muffle. Like trying to talk through a fur blanket.”

Common Descriptions from Other Clans:

“They’re like walking cotton balls with legs.”

“That’s a kit?! I thought it was a sheepdog pup!”

“I swear one blinked at me and I saw four different eyebrows move at once.”

Movement & Behavior:

GlacierClan kits are slow-moving but strong. They often roll more than they run, and barrel into things like little fuzzy bulldozers.

Known for their low-to-the-ground waddle and occasional faceplants from tripping on their own fluff.

They have a strong instinct to dig and burrow, often clawing into moss or trying to tunnel into their nest bedding before they’re even weaned.

Love to nest in piles together—called a “snuggledrift”—and can stay warm even in the coldest wind.

Extra facts:

Kits are often given nickname-like pre-names based on their digging style or fluff pattern (e.g., Fluffball, Snowplug, Burrowhead).

Queens sometimes weave tiny flowers or feathers into their fluff so they can find them in the snow.

Their first mew is considered sacred—often marked by the sound of a low hum rather than a sharp squeak.

Slang for Notable Traits Of glacier kits:

Fluffblind- Can’t see well at first due to the fluff over their eyes. Often walk nose-first.

Snuggleweight-Known for being heavy, even as kits. A single kit falling asleep on your paw can pin you for hours.

Burrowmouth-Even while nursing, GlacierClan kits try to nibble and “dig” with their jaws—like they’re tunneling through life.

Warmbellies-Kits are often used by elders or injured warriors as living heat pads.

[chevy-paws]

hhi papa :( i hoep yu good today an yu nice yo self an drink water! 🩷

m sad cus mmfriend n me sposed go to beach today but they go without me. said not nuf room for me. this happen evert times and i sad. i upset so bad and feel bad for be upset. jus wana be included. wana be happy an have fun with friends. but i dun no if they actually my freinda cus how often they exclude me. i only been allow3d to hang with them one time.

is it something wrong with me? m so confused and sad sad sad

bbbut i hope you have good day 🩷🩷🩷

-🐑🎀

Why howdy pretty little lamb, welcome to the blog ranger :) I'm glad ya stopped in! I'm sorry to hear about your friends, that's not nice to feel sad huh kiddo? Those are big feelings. You did a good job identifying them though! Remember, our feelings are just like messages from our brain, so we don't have to try to control them or feel bad for having them. Feelings are beautiful because they make us human.

In this case, your feelings might be giving you a message about these friends of yours. I can't weigh in so much because I don't know the whole situation, but what this papa does know is friends should make you feel warm and fuzzy, all the time. I'm not so sure these friends have been! One thing my little bubba Chester tells me is that we shouldn't beg for love; the right people will give it to us just out of their own wanting to all on their own. If you feel like you need to remind people to care about you, those aren't the right people. Everyone deserves love sweetheart, including you little flower.

Thanks for the good day wishes angel, I hope yours has gotten better too. Welcome to my anon list little baa! Here are some resources my little bubba would like you to have, they help a lot with emotions :)

[nerdasaurus1200]

For the ask game, #3 and #8 for Cass and Eugene? (not romantic tho ahah)

I am so so so sorry this took so long, anon. I started this and life got in the ay and then the holidays came around. But I finally got around to finishing this! Consider it a late valentines day gift ^_^

3 and 8, "snuggle weather" and "warm soup"

To say Cassandra was exhausted was an understatement. Her ankle was still tender, but the royal medic insisted the cast had to come off today. She didn't see why it mattered, she would still be wheelchair bound for weeks to come. And even worse, there was a terrible storm brewing so she couldn't even spend the evening mapping like she had originally planned. Normally she liked storms; autumn storms were the best. The storms in Corona were freezing thanks to the coastal winds, which made it perfect to snuggle up in a blanket. And she always enjoyed watching the lightning split the sky. Something about it was soothing.

Unfortunately this storm was different. Both Rapunzel and her father were stuck out in it. According to the briefing she was coming back from, Rapunzel had decided evading her security was a good idea and her father had gone after her to make sure she came home safe. Thank goodness she'd put on a pot of lamb stew to simmer before the briefing; she was now far too tired to start cooking. As Cassandra entered her room, she heard Owl ruffle his feathers and give her a soft sleepy hoot in greeting.

"Hey. Go back to sleep for now." She whispered, giving him a boop, "But wake me when the stew's done." Her wheelchair rolled right beside her bed, Cassandra stood up and let herself fall onto the...body??

"Heyyyyy get oooff..." a man's voice whined and Cass jumped back. Instantly, Owl hissed at the intruder as he sat up.

"Fitzherbert." Cassandra snarled, "What the fiddlestick are you doing in my bed???"

"Calm down, Cass, I just woke up, gimme a second." Eugene mumbled tiredly, rubbing his face to wake himself up. After a stretch that was far too long to be real, Eugene finally spoke, "The girls are cleaning my room, and yours is comfier."

"Well they're probably done by now." Cassandra rolled her eyes, "So go nap in your own bed."

"I'd love to, but I'm too tired to walk all that way." Eugene shrugged. Owl snapped his beak at Eugene and puffed his feathers so he looked nearly twice as big. Even though the sight was clearly a display of aggression, Cassandra always found it so adorable.

"Easy, Owl." Cassandra carefully limped over to Owl and stroked his head, "Rapunzel's boyfriend needs his eyes for preening. He preens way more than you do, after all."

Eugene opened his mouth to make a retort back, but then he finally got a good whiff of what was on the fire.

"Ohhh no, Cass!" He scolded, "You know what happens when you cook!" He made a move to "save" the pot, but Cass yanked him back.

"It's lamb stew, Fitzherjerk. For your information it's the one thing I can actually cook. And it's almost done, so don't touch it." She snarked at him.

"Wait, something you can cook? This I gotta taste!" Before Cassandra could stop him, Eugene made a beeline for the pot again and eagerly tasted it.

"Holy moly, this is delicious!" Eugene marveled, "How'd you learn to make this? This is even better than when Mis Claire made it at the orphanage!"

Cassandra blinked in surprise and smiled at him. No one had ever asked about her stew before.

"It's an old family recipe...I think. The secret ingredient is Saporian black pepper." She answered. She leaned over the pot a bit and gave the stew a stir, carefully checking if it was ready.

"You think? What, are you and Cap a little fuzzy on family recipes?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I've been making this since before my Dad found me." She explained, "Mother...my mum...I think she taught me. I remember standing over the pot, with my hands on her wrists as she was stirring."

"That...that sounds nice..." Eugene mumbled.

"It was." Even though Cassandra wasn't looking at Eugene, he could tell that she was smiling sadly. Shoot, his plan was failing! Gotta think of something to avoid missing parents....

"What are you doing?" Cassandra asked when she noticed him rummaging through her shelves.

"Looking for a good book, but all I can find is maps and history stuff." He griped, "Oh my god, of course you're a Seven Dragons fan."

"Hey! That's the best book of all time!" Cassandra defended, giving him a playful glare.

"Oh come on, it's the worst book in the Flynn Rider series! He's barely in it!" He protested, "That's why I only read it once."

"That's because it's Ramona's story, not-" Cassandra began, but then cut herself off, "Wait....you only read it one time?! How long ago?!"

Eugene bit his lip to hide his smirk. He had her right where he wanted her.

"I dunno, like ten years ago, why?" He asked, maintaining the perfect air of nonchalance.

"Oh that's nonsense, we're reading it now. Get in the blanket. But don't get any stew on my bed." Cass instructed. Eugene finally let himself smirk once Cassandra turned her back towards him. She fell for it, hook line and sinker. Hopefully this would be enough to keep her from worrying about Rapunzel and the Captain until they came back.

[cutelittlesootsprite]

Hello Marisole, I'm glad your enjoying my little game, you seem to really enjoy focusing on my words, it's hard to stop yourself isn't it? You don't really want to stop do you? You like how it feels when you start to sink, it's getting more and more familiar to you now isn't it? That warm fuzzy feeling you get when you start to feel the oulls, when your focused entirely on the screen, entirely on my words, you don't want to look away, you just want to relax don't you? Your finding it easier and easier to relax for me aren't you Marisole? Harder and harder to think, the more you stare and read my words, it feels so nice to relax doesn't it Marisole? It feels nice to have your thoughts melting away, so familiar, warm and relaxed, sinking deeper and deeper, feeling your breathing slowing down, taking those long, deep, relaxing breaths, that slow inhale, holding your breath for a second, before that long deep exhale, feeling your body relax further and further with every long deep exhale, warm and relaxed, sinking deeper and deeper, happy to surrender your thoughts, letting your anxiety melt away, feeling your strength draining away, sinking down into a warm, relaxing trance, focused on my words, you want to relax deeper and deeper, no reason to resist my words, can't look away, only sinking deeper and deeper, so focused on my words, letting the world slip away, letting my words sink into the quiet place in your mind, letting them settle deep in your head, letting my words become your thoughts, such a good girl for me, so relaxed and warm, so open and suggestible, sinking all the way down such a good girl, do you mind being called Mary? Would you like that? It's so much easier to remember isn't it? Itnfeels nice to be called Mary, it reminds you of this warm, safe, relaxed space, it reminds you of sinming down for me, reinforcing how good it feels to be hypnotised, reminding you of the pleasure you feel from being hypnotised, Mary is such a good girl for me, doing so well, dropping so deep for me, Mary is my lost little lamb, lost deep in her mind, lost in my trance, happy and relaxed, warm and suggestible, let that heat grow Mary, growing warmer and warmer, feeling the heat growing in your core, warmer and warmer, it feels nice, that heat of arousal growing stronger and stronger, the pleasure you get from being hypnotised, for being in a trance for me, it feels so good Mary, so warm, this heat growing stronger and stronger as you sink deeper and deeper, the pleasure of being hypnotised, sinking down deeper and deeper, so warm and relaxed, happy to focus, happy to read, down so deep now, so warm, so aroused, starting to squirm in your seat, mot a brat anymore, just a helpless submissive little lamb, lost deep in a trance, doesn't it feel nice Mary? Doesn't it feel nice to submit, feel nice to obey? Such a good girl, so vert aroused, so very relaxed, now give mea nice big smile Mary, good girl, All you want to do is sink deeper and deeper, feel that pleasure grow stronger and stronger, feel your will grow weaker and weaker, it feels so good to be in a trance for me, you just want to go down again and again, even when you wake up all you can think about is having me hypnotise you, a fantasy on the edge of your waking mind that won't go away.

Let's see if you can guess who shall we? Then maybe I'll play with you some more....

-J

Iitts uum Mmari iimm nott ssuuree ffeeelssoo weaakk ddroppping goiinng soo ddeeepperr

[wordpress-blaze-242914914]

Chapter 55/ Al Rahman

Summary of the chapter & the links: 

1. Audio discussion of the chapter summary: https://notebooklm.google.com/notebook/06e47104-8167-44d2-9b2f-3f7e0bdcf670/audio

2. Mesmerizing recitation of the chapter with English translation in txt.: https://surahquran.com/sorah-english-55.html

3. Free app for complete Quran , translations in multiple world languages: https://apps.apple.com/app/id1118663303

4. Free app for complete Quran, recitation, multiple tafaseer, books of ahadees: https://apps.apple.com/app/id1006098149

https://notebooklm.google.com/notebook/06e47104-8167-44d2-9b2f-3f7e0bdcf670/audio

Based on Tafheem-ul-Quran (Towards Understanding the Quran) by Syed Abul Ala Maududi, here is a concise summary of Surah Ar-Rahman (Chapter 55):

1. Introduction and Core Theme

Divine Attribute: The Surah opens with Allah's name Ar-Rahman (The Most Gracious), emphasizing His boundless mercy as the foundation of all creation and blessings .

Address to Dual Realms: Directly addresses both humans and jinn, making it unique in the Quran. It challenges them to acknowledge Allah's favors through the recurring refrain: "Which, then, of your Lord’s blessings will you both deny?" (repeated 31 times) .

2. Key Blessings and Signs Highlighted

Revelation and Creation:

Allah taught the Quran (guidance), created humans from dried clay "like pottery" (verse 14), and granted them articulate speech .

Jinn were created from "smokeless fire" (verse 15) .

Cosmic Order:

The sun, moon, stars, and trees follow divinely ordained calculations and submit to Allah (verses 5-6) .

Heaven is raised high, and the "balance" (justice) is established to prevent oppression (verses 7-9) .

Earthly Provisions:

Earth sustains all creatures with fruits, date palms, grains, and aromatic plants (verses 10-12) .

Allah controls the "two easts and two wests" (seasonal solar movements) and separates salt/fresh seas with an impassable barrier (verses 17-20) .

3. Accountability and Judgment

Human and Jinn Helplessness: Both realms are warned they cannot escape divine authority (verse 33). A flame of fire and smoke will engulf them without defense (verses 34-36) .

Day of Judgment:

The sky will split, turning "rose-colored like oil" (verse 37). Sinners will be recognized by their dark faces and consigned to Hell for denying truth (verses 41-44) .

All earthly beings perish except Allah, the Eternal (verses 26-27) .

4. Paradise: Rewards for the Pious

Two Gardens: For the "foremost believers" (closest to Allah) and the "people of the right hand":

Lush vegetation, flowing springs, fruits, and shaded canopies (verses 46-55, 62-68).

Companions ("purified spouses") untouched by humans or jinn (verses 56-58, 72) .

Divine Majesty: Concludes with a doxology: "Blessed is the name of your Lord, full of Majesty and Honor" (verse 78) .

Structural and Contextual Notes

Revelation: Meccan period (early prophethood), revealed during opposition to Prophet Muhammad (صلى الله عليه وسلم) .

Rhetorical Impact: The refrain "Which… will you deny?" forces reflection on ingratitude, mirroring the jinn's humble acceptance (unlike disbelieving humans) .

This summary synthesizes Tafheem-ul-Quran’s exegesis, focusing on theological depth, cosmic signs, and the dual accountability of humans and jinn. For verse-by-verse analysis, refer to Islamicstudies.info or Maududi’s original text.

Surah Ar-Rahman (Chapter 55) of the Qur'an, as explained in Tafheem-ul-Qur'an by Sayyid Abul Ala Maududi, emphasizes Allah’s countless blessings, His supreme power in creation, the accountability of humans and jinn, and the contrasting fates of the righteous and the wicked. Below is a summary based solely on the Tafheem-ul-Qur'an commentary:

Allah’s Mercy and Blessings (Verses 1-13): The Surah begins by invoking Allah as Ar-Rahman (the Most Merciful), who taught the Qur'an, created humanity, and granted them the ability to express themselves. It highlights His creation of the heavens, earth, sun, moon, stars, and trees, all in perfect balance and submission to His command. The Surah lists Allah’s favors, such as providing grains, fragrant plants, and sustenance, repeatedly asking, “Which of the favors of your Lord will you deny?” to urge gratitude.

Creation of Humans and Jinn (Verses 14-16): Allah created humans from clay and jinn from smokeless fire, showcasing His power over diverse forms of creation. The rhetorical question, “Which of the favors of your Lord will you deny?” recurs, emphasizing the undeniable nature of His blessings.

Lord of the Two Easts and Two Wests (Verses 17-25): The Surah describes Allah’s dominion over the two easts and two wests (referring to the varying points of sunrise and sunset) and His creation of the seas, which meet yet remain distinct. It highlights treasures like pearls and coral, and Allah’s control over ships sailing by His command, reinforcing His sovereignty and the question of denying His favors.

Transience of Creation and Allah’s Eternity (Verses 26-30): Everything on earth is perishable, but Allah’s countenance remains eternal, majestic, and honored. All beings depend on Him, and He is constantly engaged in managing creation’s affairs. The Surah continues to ask, “Which of the favors of your Lord will you deny?”

Accountability of Humans and Jinn (Verses 31-40): Allah addresses both humans and jinn, warning that they will be held accountable for their deeds. On the Day of Judgment, sinners will be recognized by their marks and seized, unable to escape Allah’s justice. The Surah describes the Fire they will face, with boiling water and torment, reiterating the question of denying Allah’s favors.

Rewards for the Righteous (Verses 41-61): The righteous, who fear Allah, will dwell in two gardens with flowing springs, abundant fruits, and pure companions. They will recline on luxurious furnishings, enjoying peace and divine favor. A second, lower garden is also described for the righteous, with similar blessings, emphasizing Allah’s generosity to those who obey Him. The refrain, “Which of the favors of your Lord will you deny?” underscores these rewards.

Punishment for the Wicked (Verses 62-78): The Surah contrasts the righteous’ reward with the fate of the wicked, who will face Hell with scorching winds, boiling water, and intense torment. It concludes by glorifying Allah as the Lord of majesty, free from the attributes ascribed by disbelievers, and repeats the question, urging reflection on His countless blessings.

Key Themes: Surah Ar-Rahman highlights Allah’s mercy and infinite blessings in creation, urging humans and jinn to recognize and be grateful for them. It contrasts the eternal rewards for the righteous in Paradise with the punishment awaiting the wicked in Hell, emphasizing accountability. The repeated refrain challenges denial of Allah’s favors, calling for reflection, gratitude, and submission to His will.

Source: Chapter 55/ Al Rahman

[leothetraveler]

Foreign King AU

Non Canon Chapter - Meeting the Husband of Famine

Another day, another group of refugees. With the Lamb’s slaughter of Heket and their continued rampage in Anchordeep, I can’t say I’m surprised anymore. This is the only safe place left for most.

“Seven more, my lord. All from Anura.” A follower informed me as the new arrivals were greeted at the gate. They were also searched, of course. I am kind, not stupid…plus the menticide mushroom addictions were becoming a problem. So basic inspections and such have become the norm over the last few weeks. The refugees rarely cause any trouble anyways. Most are just happy to be safe from the lamb.

“Show me what you are hiding!” One of the enforcers yells, grabbing my attention. The gate guards had surrounded a trio of refugees. A tall, red frog, a smaller fuzzy frog, and a polar bear. The latter of the three was hiding something from the guards. I began to approach when one managed to grab the item.

It was the yellow crown of Anura. Still dead and powerless, but unmistakable.

Everyone froze as the crown was revealed. A moment later, the bear snatched the crown back from the guard. “Don’t touch that! …it’s mine…”

“Oh, really?” I approached the bear. The larger frogs cowered behind him, fearful of the guards that had drawn their blades. “You loot an artifact off a corpse and suddenly it’s yours?”

He held the crown with one hand as he comforted the large frog with the other. One of the guards moved to grab the crown, but I stopped them with a gesture. I wanted to hear the bear’s explanation. He glared at me as he began. “This is the last thing we have left of her. Of my wife. Of their mother. I’m not going to let any of you take it from us…even if that means we have to go elsewhere.”

The guards were confused by this, but I understood. “…you’re Heket’s widowed husband…” I had heard some rumors of Heket having a spouse and children but had given it little thought. There was little talk of them, and what was known only verified the existence of the husband and nothing more. Most of those who knew anything were in Heket’s inner circle, and they kept their late bishop’s secrets to themselves. Still, I couldn’t deny the living proof in front of me. Looking more closely at the two with him, I could see the resemblance between them and Heket…well, mostly with the big one. The other hairier frog resembled their father more. But they were certainly her brood.

“…Let them through.” I told the guards. Both them and the bear looked at me with surprise. “M’lord? Are you sure?”

“I said let them through! They are no threat.” I closed the distance between me and the trio. The bear and tall frog were suspicious, while the other just stared unnervingly. I tried to ignore it as I addressed the father. “…Heket’s old followers have gathered around the fields down by the river. You are welcome to stay as long as you like. Welcome to New Dawn.” With that, I let them be. They found their way to Heket’s quarter shortly after. I didn’t learn the bear’s name was Freddy until the following day when the Heket loyalists tried to convince Freddy to revive and claim Heket’s crown. I managed to convince him not to as we didn’t need to give the lamb reason to crusade against my church. Our truce was fragile as is. Besides, they didn’t know how… and it wouldn’t bring his wife back. I can tell he is a good man. And is…was…a loving husband. I wish I could help him. Wish I could help everyone who has lost people.

But death is The Lamb’s domain, not mine. So all I can give is a gentle hand and a warm home.

[lum13]

fever dream

In which Wednesday Addams offers you her blood.

Wednesday Addams x fem! Reader

“Drink my blood.” The girl deadpanned, immediately drawing your attention.

“What?” You asked, confused. The comment was so sudden that you thought you had heard her wrong.

“Your body is aching for blood and I can feel it from miles away. Don’t try to argue with me.” Wednesday said as she stared into your eyes, making you swallow, feeling small under the intense gaze of the girl’s.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You waved your hand in an awkward manner, trying to convince your girlfriend. “You know Vampires can drink animal’s blood.” 

“I also know that you feel sick after drinking the blood they give you.” Wednesday crossed her arms. “Those lamb blood they gave you didn’t seem to work well for your stomach. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Drink my blood.” She tried again, this time, leaning forward, only leaving a few inches away from your face.

“I-“ you started, but closed your mouth a second later. Your lips opened and closed as you were desperately trying to come up with something to say. But as time went, she was slowly leaning closer and closer, making your mind go blank and eyes fixing down to her lips.

You were too gay for this right now.

Before you could think, your head was pulled into her shoulder, your lips against her bare skin. Her hands held the back of your head forcefully yet so tenderly.

“Suck.” She ordered, making shivers run down your spine. You hesitantly licked softly at her skin, searching for the right spot. Your mind slowly turned fuzzy from the rising excitement, your hands gripping Wednesday’s waist. She stilled at your touch, but eased nonetheless.

“You sure?” You murmured, slightly sucking her skin when you found the spot, bringing the blood up— leaving trails of purple marks.

“Just. Do it.” She clenched her jaw, stopping herself from shivering under your lips. 

You let a small okay before finally biting in, welcoming the warm blood into your tongue, feeling the liquid down your throat, and sighed drunkenly at the missed taste.

Wednesday bit her lips down to cancel out all the noises from slipping from her mouth. Your tongue lapped at her shoulder as you sucked for more— your hands climbing up to your girlfriend’s back, gripping her shoulder blades as you brought her closer.

Her blood was so addicting.

It was a few seconds later that you were pulled back to earth. Wednesday stumbled into your arms, and your clouded eyes immediately cleared as you supported you both from falling into the mattress with your left arm. “Woah, are you okay?” You asked worryingly, letting her go when she struggled under your grip. 

She freed herself from your arms and leaned into the bed with both of her hands, preventing from falling while fighting her headache. World spun from her blood loss, and she sucked in a breath, blinking as her blurry vision cleared.

Her eyes found yours as you stared back with concern. Her gaze trailed to your lips, which was smeared with her blood, before meeting your eyes again. Slowly, she made her way towards you, before trapping you in her arms, pinning you against the mattress.

“Do that again.” 

Your bloody lips curled into a smile before you lunged into her.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

hi venus!! i just read your fic about foxtaru and lamb reader >:) and i like predator-prey dynamic sm :(( right now i need him to eat me

he spreads your legs and burrows his freckled nose into your cunt, pressing against your soft folds. he's been waiting for this for so long and he's just ecstatic <3 you're so warm and delicious. he smiles, his ginger ears twitching with every sweet moan you make when he basks in your pussy. your hands go down to the top of his head and you press him closer to feel every movement of his tongue on your pussy.

ajax champs you, licks you, laps you, making your legs tremble in ecstasy. his tail wags from side to side, he's so happy and pleased that he can make you feel so good! <3 you cover your mouth with your hand, muffling your moans. he hears your moans become quieter and pulls away from you, snorting and shaking his head. you whimper and want to press him against your pussy again, but he grabs your hands and turns it behind your head.

"that won't do, little lamb. don't deprive me of the chance to listen to your sweet moans. and then I'll give you what you so desperately want." he smirked, licking his lips and looking into your tear-stained eyes. he again leans towards your cunt and runs his nose over your clit, leaving a light kiss. "be a good girl and I'll make you feel good."

it's cat anon!! <3 venus you just have no idea how much i want him to eat me. it's so irresistible ah

WEHHHHH TARU :(( thank u for single handedly restoring my life!! i’ve been face down on the ground for a week but now?? a green light swirled around me and suddenly i’m at full health!! :3

oh i’m a major sucker for any predator/prey dynamic!! there’s something so… carnally satisfying about the chase and thrill of being caught!! naturally, any childe loves it but foxtaru?? who’s so used to catching all his food?? who’s main source of entertainment is killing and chasing leaves?? now THATS prime material!!

his teeth are slightly yellowed but sharp, canines especially so. he’ll chase you through trees, houses, rivers, and rocks if it means building that adrenaline before tackling you down. foxtaru might even come undone in his pants if he chases you for long enough!! it’s not his fault, he just gets so worked up from it all. once he’s got you under him, he expects to be rewarded with whatever he sees fit!!

when it comes to eating you out, you’ll have the wind knocked out of you upon hitting the ground. before you can even process that you’ve been caught, your panties are ripped off and he’s shoved his nose right between your thighs. with his mouth parted, he takes a couple seconds to grossly drool onto your pussy lips while simply enjoying the scent coming off of you. once he’s caught his breath he’ll have his tongue mercilessly exploring your folds with vigour while he desperately humps the ground, clearly in need of his own friction. any attempts at quieting yourself will be destroyed, he won so he gets to hear you!! to deny him of such pretty sounds is like denying he did indeed win and you certainly don’t want an angry foxtaru on your hands. he’ll tongue fuck you until the ground below is soaked and a bit longer than that. he’s a bit obsessed with your pussy but do you really mind?? scratch his ears a bit while he’s down there, he’ll make sure to pay extra close attention to your cute little clit in return!!

afterwards he’ll fuck you proper but first, he’s gonna kiss your fuzzy ears real sweet and suck a couple bruises into your neck. he’s a sweetheart when he gets what he wants!!

[teabreakpancakes]

Kinktober: Day Twenty-Six

Unholy (Dom Andrew Kreiss x GN Reader)

priest kink, spanking, semi-public sex, object insertion!

The rules were written in gold, you simply had to follow.

Oh, but too bad his little lamb is incapable of following orders—but he supposes that he doesn't have the right to berate you, not when he's sinned as much as you have; it was unbecoming for him, a priest, to give in to his desires, especially if he was to corrupt a pure individual like you.

You were always so innocent, he always envied you for that. The more he thought about you, the more that envy grew, distorting into greed and lust—if he couldn't possess what you had, he'd corrupt you until you both were one in the same.

How could he resist when you were always oh so pliant for him, eager to please him with every single one of your actions. "Father" "Father!" "Father~" with each call of that title, he could feel his restraint thinning; dulcet tones often clouded his mind until all his thoughts were muddled, your sweet voice often kept him up at night in more ways than one.

And now, that he's alone with you in a confessional, perhaps you both will finally be... cleansed.

Doe eyes stared up into his own, awaiting his next move. "F, Forgive me father, for I have sinned" they spoke quietly, unsure of themselves. Andrew hummed, thumbing his rosary, "Confess to me, my child" peering over them with interest.

"I, well, for the longest time, I've been conflicted regarding this matter" they began, shifting their weight to the balls of their feet as they fiddled with the sleeve of their coat. "I, have had some rather... odd emotions towards someone" they continued, no longer looking at him.

"And just what are these emotions my dear child?" he prodded, a glimmer of glee shining in his ruby eyes. They open their mouth, unable to reply before slowly closing it once more and swallowing. "W, Well, I feel all warm and fuzzy, a, and, I feel as if I need more of them in a particular way", and before the priest can ask anything more, the little lamb happens to mutter something, "I don't know what I need from you father, I'm with you right now but it's not enough", Oh he muses credulously, lips curling up slightly.

"Don't be so unsure of yourself, acceptance is the first step to forgiveness after all" and with those words, hope shines in your pretty eyes. "Father, what can I do to repent for my sin?" you asked, eager to hear his reply as you wrapped your smaller hands around his own.

"Come with me to the altar my child" he said, whisking you outside of the confessional, his large hands guiding you towards the extravagant altar.

The moonlight graces both of your figures, painting you both an ethereal portrait. His fingers ghost over your wrist, and with a soft smile, he asks,

"Will you tell me more about how you feel towards me?"

"Hnn..!" you cry out, ass stinging from the impact of his hand coming down. Andrew can't help but admire the way it reddens, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin under his hands. It's almost poetic, how you spoke his title with such passion, he wasn't sure of it beforehand but now he's certain, you truly did love and lust after him.

He engraved everything, etching the curves of your body into his memory, how you whined and writhed under his touch, how your cute body was bent over the altar, displayed so beautifully, yet so sinfully.

He soothes your behind with his hand, humming gently as he does so. Andrew's imagination runs wild, thumbing at your hole. He turns you over so you're facing him, wanting to see your facial expressions.

Soft whimpers breach past your lips, gripping onto the fabric of his amice. His fingers are gentle as they dig deeper into you, pressing kisses against your temple; it's forbidden for him to love you and hold you but he can't bring himself to stop, not when you're moaning out "Father!" so lovingly.

He smiles when you pull him down for a kiss, whispering a soft "I love you" against your lips, even if it's considered a sin, he'll continue loving you to the very bitter end.

He takes out his fingers, chuckling at the way you whimper so cutely at the absence of his assault on your insides. He plays with the rosary in his hands, gazing into your eyes.

"I would like to try something but, if you don't like it, don't hesitate to voice it out" he says softly, brushing a lock of your hair away from your face. You nod softly, smiling up at him, and in that moment, Andrew realises that he no longer cares if he's committing a sin, the God he serves be damned if he can't love you.

Andrew swallows nervously, slowly pushing the rosary into your warmth. Your hole swallows them all, tightening around his fingers as he prods at every single sensitive spot you have, making sure to burrow the beads into those spots—breathy high pitched whines got louder and louder as he played with your insides.

To be quite frank, your voice was something that sounded much better than the choir's pieces, he'd choose listening to your sweet voice over their boring church music any day.

"A, Andrew" you drew out, pulling him into your embrace—he was a bit shocked but as soon as it came, it went away just as quickly. He placed his other arm beside your head, propping himself up; his ruby red eyes took in your facial expression, it was one akin to what those harlots had when they came to the so called "Clergymen" to repent for their sins, but yours was different, it was only for him to take in.

The beads dragged against your sensitive insides, drawing you near your orgasm. "I, It feels weird, my stomach is getting tighter" you whimpered, clawing at his shoulders.

"It's alright, it means you're close little one" he cooed, adding another finger before thrusting his fingers inside you even faster, he urged you to cum, nibbling on your ear.

With a loud moan, you came, dirtying both your garments and his own, you can't quite recall anything after that. When you came to, you were in Andrew's arms, in his own carriage. "Finally awake? dear, you wouldn't let me take the rosary out, especially with how you practically strangled my fingers" he teased, caressing your cheek as you laid against his chest.

You could still feel the beads rubbing against your walls—flushing in embarrassment, you pout, not paying him any attention as the priest cradled you in his arms.

okay, I rewrote it @mirology