#bark bones

[smilingcrittersthingig]

Pendantswap Critters (1/8)

Augh okay I’m gonna post these guys two at a time, one for sc one for nc Okay lets go

Starting off with our leaders, thats right, completely incompatible and polar opposites, I’ve chosen Baba Chops and Dogday.

There’s supposed to be a theme with who swapped with who but that doesn’t apply to these two in this case. ahem anyways—

Sheepshine, eager to start the day off with a bang! She’s full of confidence and enthusiasm, which is why she’s a natural with making friends and is considered a great leader!

Bark Bones, no matter the time or day, he’ll somehow find a way to ruin the mood with his strict and sarcastic attitude. He always grumbles about being forced to partake in their silly games.

Well at least, that’s what they want you to believe.

The moment Sheepshine finds herself alone, she becomes an entirely different person. She becomes quiet and exhausted, as if the moment no one has eyes on her, her life is drained from her body. She’s ashamed of this side of her and refuses to be seen in this state. After all, she’s the leader, and a leader cant be seen looking like this.

On the other hand, despite Bark Bones’s rough exterior, he’s actually quite fond of playing with his friends and moving around. But he finds it embarrassing to be passionate or being seen as having fun, so he hides under the guise of “being forced” and using rude remarks as a way to keep his “strong and strict leader” persona.

Two sides of a coin, those two.

[dumbgoonpup]

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Boys whose voices get higher and whinier while ur fucking them I love you. Boys who speak in a lower register when they're around their friends but lose control when they're begging and whimpering for me I love youuuu

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

[thecmaly]

harem squad said deal's off folks

-

more windbreaker comics

[show-tunes]

Scrybeswap

I have a lot of scatterbrained design notes for each of them but generally I wanted them to look similar to their original designs but with different themes. I also imagine that they have the same inscribing tools as their original counterparts but just use them differently (i.e. Magnificus paints animals, Leshy takes pictures of people as they're dying/about to die, I'm not sure what the magic equivalent for P03 would be besides maybe a spellbook that copies the essence of things, and Grimora's quill would either "write" code or write directly onto the hardware of robots).

[needa-sum-luvn]

I'm going insane yall I need that fat boy. I WANT HIM. A fat boy, I need one. I'm such a lonely, hopless romantic.

[scrrry-mnsters]

POV You are a severed limb

[skeletonlover69]

happy new year~~

[zweigsons]

“bisexual bisexual bisexual” i chant into the mirror

he appears behind me, lance sweets

[damastorrr]

Werewolf (?) Dingo

He transforms into a dog

[ferrocyan]

commissioned my awesome buddy @devonhinged to draw tart and his scars!! it's so cool to see my vision of him realized \( ≧∀≦)/ thanks again for your great work!

[honeydippedfiction]

I went absolutely feral over Osc and Lando in tuxes for the FIA Awards. The whole time I was just freaking out. Like are YOU KIDDING ME???? BARK BARK BARK (I do apologize, I got my birth control removed and am being put on a new one so I’m just insane rn)

[legends-of-apex]

It’s Done | Kaz Brekker x f!Reader

Rating: 18+ for smut

Word count: 2,3k

Summary: Spoilers for Shadow and Bone season 2! After winning back the Crow Club and Inej’s freedom from Pekka Rollins, Kaz returns home to you bloodied, beaten but with desire burning through his veins. You offer him an outlet for that. This is show!Kaz so he is very much an adult!!

Tags: Smut, rough sex, Kaz’s trauma, p in v sex, injury/violence/blood mention, Kaz is okay with p in v sex but is still touch-averse, established relationship, clothed sex, bathroom sex, dirty talk, praise, aftercare, he calls the reader “good girl” and “darling”, AFAB reader, slightly ooc Kaz as I haven’t written him before

When Kaz Brekker strode through the door with blood and a look of utter delirium on his face, worry flooded your veins. His eyes of endless oceans were wild, pupils blown and his chest heaved. His hair hung loose in front of his eyes, swinging with each hurried step in your direction.  

With each tap of his cane against the floorboards, the coil of worry in your stomach began to fade only to be replaced by something much more dangerous. 

“I need you," he uttered, barely above a strained whisper. 

“So have me.”

You wanted him. How couldn't you when he looked at you like that? Like he was a man on fire and you alone held the water that could quench the flame. 

“Would you really let me have you like this?” He asked, stepping close enough that his outbreath rustled your hair. “With another man’s blood on my face… half-mad with spite?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, please.”

Oh, how generous a lover you were. Whatever did Kaz Brekker in all his crooked life do to deserve you?

Usually Kaz would at the very least take the time to enjoy the warm weight of your chest in his gloved hands or whisper delicately in your ear until you were squirming for him, untouched. But tonight, all he needed was relief from the adrenaline coursing through his hurried veins. The adrenaline ran so high that the cold waters barely even threatened to rise at his close proximity to you. His palms didn’t sweat.

The fire of want consumed him. He needed you here and he needed you now.

“You’re sure you want this?” He asked, quietly. “I'm afraid I can’t have you gently tonight.”

“I don’t want you gently.”

He studied your face for any hesitation, any discomfort yet he found none. Even in his bloodied, frazzled state you gazed up at him with want in your eyes. Kaz felt like his skin was on fire. 

With hurried hands he simply pressed you against the bathroom sink, knocked your legs wide open with the end of his cane and got to work.

Kaz hadn’t even bothered shedding his bloodied clothes. It was better that way, less risky for him. Only his jacket hung deftly on the hook at the door. A few folds of his shirt sleeves had his pale forearms glinting in the low light but his gloves stayed firmly in place. He’d come far but not far enough to have you without that barrier just yet.

He bunched your skirts together in his fist and peeled away your underwear. You gasped when he tore the lace at the hip and tossed them to lay in a heap on the bathroom floor. There was no time for neatness. He was the one who bought them for you in the first place and he would be happy to replace the pair.

“Saints, look at you.”

Were he a better man, he’d hoist you up on the sink so he could kiss you and dote on you as you deserved. Were he a better man he’d know he wasn’t good enough to be here with you at all. But in the end good men die just the same as bad ones. And you didn’t want a good man. You wanted him.

He tucked his face into your neck, feeling your pulse with his lips. You’re skin is warm and soft and inviting. Blood rushed through your veins beneath your skin. Your hair so soft and skin so smooth reminded him that you’re alive, you’re here and you want him to have you. He used your drumming pulse as an anchor.

With one bruising kiss of thanks to your cheek, Kaz sank into you.

His ribs ached and creaked with each thrust. His temple stung, ears still ringing. Pekka Rollins had definitely broken something when he kicked him as hard as the man could muster but Kaz couldn't find it in him to care. His knee ached too. A sharp pain shot through it when he tried putting even a sliver of weight on it. So he grasped at the sink’s smooth edge to keep himself steady and his pace thorough. Your sweet sighs made it all worth it. He could rest his body once the good work was done.

"My name. Say it,” he gritted out.

“Kaz!” 

He grinned, flashing a sliver of teeth. All he needed right now was this.  

The bone-white sink kept you upright for the most part, your hands gripping desperately at its sides as Kaz shook your very soul to its core. He’d started off with calculated, deliberate thrusts before the need took over. 

Saints, that man knew how to fuck hard when he wanted to. 

They say that Kaz Brekker didn't need a reason but he certainly did to fuck you like this. He was usually so gentle. If it wasn’t for your encouragement he might have been able to show restraint. But your cries for more made him want to give you just that. He’d have put his beating heart in the palm of your hand if you asked. He would rip the stars from the sky and scatter them at your feet if only to see your eyes brighten for him.

“Please!”

The sound was the sweetest nectar, a balm to all his ills. Your voice warmed the very caverns of his cold and bitter bones. But more than that, it grounded him. The sound kept the waters at bay and he savoured it.

“More, Kaz. Please.”

His gloved hand gripped your chin, guiding you to look at him in the mirror. In the low light he looked almost demonic. His face bathed in the warm tones from candlelight that cast deep cut shadows bordering every ridge. His hair, once so precisely slicked back, hung loose and swung against his forehead with each plunge of his hips. Fresh blood had even begun to trickle from the gash above his eye. Kaz's molten gaze had your knees threatening to buckle from intensity. The jet black of his pupils all but eclipsed the startling blue. 

That man in the mirror? That was Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands and whatever other name people whispered as he walked by with blood coating the end of his cane. Here he was brimming with adrenaline, dishevelled and so deliciously unhinged and you loved every inch of him.

Whatever mask of civility he wore on the day to day was torn to shreds sometime in between being kicked in the stomach by Pekka Rollins and having finally had the man on his knees. The sometimes gentle, maybe even soft man Kaz could be with you may as well have sunk to the bottom of Reaper’s Barge for all his presence was felt right now. He was death himself come to steal you away and you went with him merrily.

“Please, Kaz!” You cried out, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Tell me just what it is that you’re asking for so politely?" He murmured with his voice so smooth.

"More! Please, I want to come!"

"Is that so?" He asked, grinning again. "Very good. Keep your eyes on me."

You did just that. Watching in the mirror as he took his hand from your chin and flexed it once before bringing it down to the soft flesh of your thigh. This was the tricky part. Being inside you was as easy as breathing; Your warm honeyed walls welcomed him home each time. Even with gloved hands, it was touching the rest of you that caused the waters to rise, inch by freezing inch. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” Your voice pulled him out of the harbour again.  

“No, I want to.” He replied, but you saw the clench of his jaw in the mirror. “So long as you’ll have me.”

You really didn’t mind touching yourself but Kaz was determined. He wanted to bring you all the pleasure you deserved. Even if it risked the waters trying to drown him, he needed this.

You nodded your consent and he started off slow with little squeezes as he made his way up your thigh. His hips slowed to a grind now as he touched you. When the waters began to rise, Kaz let his lips find your pulse point again and buried his face in your neck. Your words of encouragement helped greatly but it was the soft thump of your heartbeat that sent the waves lulling down to his feet.

“Each day, each night, I yearn to have you like this.” He uttered, close enough that you could feel his breath kiss your ear. "More than you could possibly imagine."

"Even when I dream I can’t escape you," he added.

Heat bloomed in you the closer he got to where you needed him. Your body began to shake when two leather-clad fingers parted your folds and dove right for your clit. You'd never realised his gloves had the most delicious texture. You couldn't help the moan of his name that escaped you at the feeling. Not only did it feel good, you were so endlessly proud of him. Kaz revelled in it. Your body's reaction sent any anxiety he had flying out the window as he focused on bringing you pleasure.

He had to plant one hand firmly on the mirror so he had enough leverage to fuck you properly again. The mirror squeaked as his hand slid down it just an inch or two. When you gasped he smirked like the devil and only went harder, his hair threatening to cover his eyes.

"Tell me how it feels." He ordered.

"So good!" You whined, "It feels so fucking good."

There was something almost sacred about this: Him buried deep inside you, his hand on your pussy and your pulse on his lips. He'd never felt so rich in his life and yet he still wanted more.

“Come,” he gritted out. "Be a good girl and come for me. That’s it. That’s it, darling."

With a shiver, you did just that. Your thighs shook like you were freezing. When you clenched around him he failed to suppress a groan and it was beautiful; The crack in his concrete composure akin to watching an angel fall. 

Soon Kaz was pulling out and resting the full weight of his body on the mirror for support. His arms caged you between him and the sink as you stood there breathing heavily together.

Saints, he needed that.

"Thank you." Kaz breathed, taking in the sight of you in the reflection.

Kaz tucked himself back into his dress trousers and took a step towards the bath. The bath was made of smooth, rich copper and aside from the stolen DeKappel painting hanging on his office wall, it was the most expensive thing Kaz now owned. Once the bath was filled, he extended a hand towards you and you took it after shedding your dress, letting him help you take a shaky step into the warm water.

He watched you settle down into the water, steam already leaving droplets on your skin. The sigh of contentment that passed your lips made him envious. Not of you but of the water. He wished he could give you as much comfort and relief. As much as he would love to get in there with you, to let you lay back against his chest as the water relaxed you; He couldn't and he likely never would. The harbour would come flooding back to him more quickly than he could ever hope to handle.

So instead he lowered himself to the ground with a wince and sat with his cane across his lap, legs outstretched on the cool bathroom floor. His knee would hate him for it but he couldn’t bear to be away from you right now.

He watched you trail your finger over the water's surface, seemingly lost in thought until your eyes landed on him. The water sloshed against the tub's curved edges as you moved towards the side.

"Can I borrow your gloves for a moment, please?" You asked softly, as if not to startle him.

His eyes met yours and he found nothing but softness in them. You just wanted to help and he trusted you with his life. So he tugged them off, one slender finger at a time, and handed them to you once you dried your hands on a towel. Kaz felt bare without his gloves, exposed and so very vulnerable. Yet he was mesmerised watching your delicate hands disappear into the black leather. 

With a cotton pad folded over your gloved fingers, you leaned over the bathtub’s edge to dab at the blood on his brow, then his lower lip. Kaz was sure he must’ve smeared some crusted blood on your neck when he sought solace with your heartbeat. But you didn’t seem to care. 

Once he had his gloves back on, you placed a kiss to his knuckles. Those hands that had done so many bad and crooked things? They didn’t deserve such a kiss but he hadn’t the heart to deny you right now, not when you looked at him like he held the sun in his hands. And if you wanted it, he’d do his damndest to steal it for you.

You settled back into the water, enjoying the steam. The water relaxed your muscles, washed away the sweat and grime of the Barrell. 

“So it’s done, then?” You asked about Pekka Rollins.

“Yes.” He replied, eyes unfocused. “It’s done.”

Kaz rested his head against the wall and dragged a hand back through his stubborn hair in an attempt to smooth it out of his face. He let a rare sense of peace wash over him. There was always so much pain in his world, in his life. But not in that room right now. Not with you.

Tagging: no one as this is my first time writing Kaz! Please feel free to drop me an ask, message or comment if you’d like to be tagged in future Kaz fics tho :)

[luvrbones]

no offense but idk if i’ve ever seen anything hotter than freddy carter in the fucking “i buried him. six feet deep” scene like i stand by the fact that the sexiest thing a man can do is be insane & covered in blood

[strawberrylemongrass]

stupid fuckass human body

won't let me sleep comfortably on my side

my hip hurts so much I fucking

I fucking can't with this shit right now

[dustykneed]

pietà (*major spoilers for st:id! death cw!*) full image below additional spacer.

i like to think that aos bones has an interesting relationship with parenthood...

especially pertaining to his relationship with jim. not that he sees jim as his son, necessarily (i don't think they're deliberately portrayed that way in canon, nor do i headcanon them like that, but honestly fandom is fun because we all have fun in our sandbox, so if anyone happens to see them that way, neat!)

but when you're a parent, and at the same time a parent friend, it's easy to take the path of least resistance when it comes to defining the undefinable relationship you have with this guy you can't seem to live without.

is he your captain? your best friend? your patient? a command prodigy and a tactical genius? a sight for sore eyes? your personal nuisance? the one and only person you can't seem to get rid of, who drags you places you hate and points out everything beautiful to you and beams like he won the lottery when you can't help but grin just a little, who brings the light back into places you forgot could be lit up like the dawn, who saw you at your worst while actively at his own worst, and plopped his fool ass down and decided you were worth fighting for?

and that's a lot of things. especially many when you're fighting tooth and nail to keep his scrap-happy ass intact and also keep an eye on a whole starshipful of people. it's a lot easier to stick to what you know-- whatever is the least risky, the safest option, one that could never possibly backfire and bite you in the ass. sometimes you forget he could see you as anything other than a parent (give or take the friend.) but parenthood goes hand in hand with grief. parenthood has its own set of burdens. but it's easy to put yourself in that box and pretend to forget about all the other boxes, collecting dust in the closet, and sometimes he prods at the closet door with something pleading in his eyes. you pretend not to see that, either.

...you don't take it well, when he dies.

[shortestsquash]

honestly one of my favorite october/halloween vibes is watching thriller bark