#dragon shaped water slides

[sashiavi]

HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT!!.....Big voy Zhongli...I MEAN-- THE Geo archon? Morax? Come on! He has to be a big boy, after all he shaped Liyue's mountains!!

♡ Genshin Impact Big Boys ♡

You're so righttt omg BigBoy!Zhongli/Morax my king ♡ I'm writing this in his prime Morax era I hope that's okay mwah ♡

My fave genre of Zhongli cough I even have two fics about it cough ◇ ◇

Warnings : 18+ Smut | Morax!Zhongli | possessive | dumbification | dom/sub & master/pet | abuse of power dynamics | Size Difference | monster cock - knotting - belly buldge- breeding | God/Mortal | potential dubcon | the more I write the more warnings come up | 'cunny' as a descriptive word for afab anatomy |

→ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵂᵃʳⁿᶦⁿᵍ←

♡Be in charge of your own reading and look after yourself♡

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BigBoy!Morax who towers over many. Easily over twice the size of an ordinary mortal, effortlessly tall, thick, strong, with heavy muscles coursing with omnipotent power. Carving and shaping the mountains of Liyue, with the effort of a minimal wrist flick.

BigBoy!Morax who lazes on his throne, heavy robes draped off of his body, legs spread apart, cheek pressed into the palm of his hand. His body absolutely dominates over your own, dwarfing you while you rest in his lap. His other arm practically cups you, coddling, with you napping away, head agaisnt his chest, your own pretty peppery floral robes water-falling off of his throne.

BigBoy!Morax with the sheer power of a mighty Dragon, supreme, pre-eminent, forced to take extra care and precaution with you; His pretty little pet.

BigBoy!Morax with a hand easily over twice the size of your own. His thumb longer than your jaw, swiping over your cheek and ear. He practically engulfs your face when he cups the side of it, fingers cradling the back of your head, thumb gently dancing over your closed eyelid. The soft core lapis glow of his hands illuminates your pretty, soft features, allowing him to admire you for hours on end- chanting sweet praise and compliments over and over.

BigBoy!Morax who's hands absolutely shrink your stature. Curving over your waist, gripping your hips, fingers effortlessly wrapping themselves around for frame, tickling at the soft bumps of your spine.

BigBoy!Morax who eyes you from above when you walk by his side - On the rare occasion he allows you to walk, much rather opting to carry you everywhere you went - height barely grazing up to his waist, your hand wrapped around just a few of his fingers.

BigBoy!Morax with his even bigger bed, covered in waves of soft silks, the space around dazzling in pretty little things belonging to his hoard. Archons, the treasure-hoarding being marvels at the prettiest little thing in his collection, all splayed out just for him.

BigBoy!Morax with a thick, forked tongue, perfect for hot, spitty kisses, barely battling for control, relishing at how his pretty pet just submits to him. Archons, the feeling of your little tongue sliding over his own, suckling on him obediently.

BigBoy!Morax and his appetite. Eagerly licking and lapping, tongue fucking that sweet little spot inside your cunny, swallowing down all those sweet juices. His large mouth practically engulfs you, thick fangs pin pricking gently into your cunt, lips suckling on your achey clit. His massive hands wrap around your waist, pulling your pretty self into him, forcing his lips to smush, fangs to bite, tongue to curl over and over.

BigBoy!Morax with claws all too sharp to press into your prefect pussy, forced to tongue fuck you into your first orgasm, stretching you out for him.

BigBoy!Morax with a heavy, thick cock. Standing tall despite its size, holding its own, drooling agaisnt his stomach. It was almost otherworldly, ever so slightly unhuman, with ribs and ridges, a pointed tip and a thick, fat knot right on the base of his length. He's always marvelled at your silly reaction, the awe in your eyes, swallow of your throat, eyeing the dribbly tip of his pudgy cock with a look of unease. He laughs, almost purs, soft in his chest, hand on your cheek.

BigBoy!Morax who has to go slow. Just the tip, juuust the tip. Circling your sticky clit with his thumb, rough, slow rubs forcing your cunny to gush, wetting his cock, letting him slide in bit by bit.

BigBoy!Morax who bottoms out in your cunt, cock pressing into your tummy, bulging up into your guts, leaving the lovliest indent of his cock on your front. He cuddles you, coddling his pretty pet, hushing and soothing away all the tears and hiccups with kisses and licks to your face. Oh, you're so full, aren't you? It's not easy taking the cherishing gift of a God, pretty pet doing such a lovely job.

BigBoy!Morax absolutely relishes in the sweet squeeze of your cunny on his thick, bullying length. Hugging him tight, drooly, sticky pussy lips kissing agaisnt the knot on his base, poor pink little clit grinding on his pelvis.

BigBoy!Morax who is not at all afraid to manhandle your body, giant hands latching to your waist, fingers almost intertwining with themselves over your back. Up your hips go, only your very upper back and shoulders lay on the bed as Morax sinks you down on him, himself. You're forced to wrap those legs around him, barely managing to properly anchor yourself, obediently taking him in like a perfect, little, fuck doll.

BigBoy!Morax watches that fat bump in your gut press up over and over, his thick pudgy head soothing under your belly. He can't help but press a thumb into it, massaging over that spot, listening to those insolent little whines and begs your dumb little mortal brain spews at him.

BigBoy!Morax who was still a merciful God, spitting hot globs of spit on to your cunny, keeping it nice and wet for his cock, letting that knot slip in just for a moment. His other thumb comes down, down, down, rubbing large and slow circles into your clit, forcing out those little gushes and squirms.

BigBoy!Morax, gentle as he is, still managing to to fuck you silly. Long, rhythmic slides of his cock, hands guiding those pretty hips, lifting and pulling in delicious motions- Tip to knot, thick inches squelching in and out, filling up that pretty cunny, little Pet so full, pretty dolly servicing his weepy cock.

BigBoy!Morax who can only last so long with that tight gushy squeeze on his length. Poor Morax who looses himself a little. Prettiest cunt sucking him in so, so well? Can't just dangle that sweet, juicy forbidden fruit in front of him and expect him to not take a bite.

BigBoy!Morax who let's his hips fuck into his precious, darling Pet's cunt. Meeting those hips he forces into his own, thick and slippery knot edging, pressing, slipping- The God growls, capturing your lips with his, thick tongue swirling around your own, forcing you to suckle and nip into him.

BigBoy!Morax hums low when he finally slips that thick, swollen knot into your dumb little mortal cunny, fat tip squirting and oozing thick spurts of cum into your tummy. Oh, he needs to be deeper, nestle his breeder cock up in your gut, paint your cervix white with seed.

BigBoy!Morax eggs his lovely pet on, those hands pulling your hips into his still, now grinding that juicy abused clit on his lower tummy. He feels that pretty cunny squeeze, hears those cries and moans, feels them vibrating agaisnt his tongue. He thrusts as much as he can with that locked knot in your pussy, clicking wetly with the hot pressure of him all stuck in you. His heavy balls continue to squeeze, bursting hot ropes of heavy, thick seed into you over and over. Slow and drawn out, his orgasm could last for minutes on end.

BigBoy!Morax who finally, finally gets that sweet cunt to squirt, making a mess all over his lap, gushing and pulsing, letting that buldge press in, impossibly deeper. Another hot weep of cum, milked out by that heavenly squeeze of you wrapped around him.

BigBoy!Morax laying peppery kisses over your face and neck, maneuvering your smaller-than-his frame around, hushing your sweet mewls when your poor body quivers. Poor, poor overstimulated little you, body reacting to the slighted of touches.

BigBoy!Morax who has you laid on his chest and tummy, thick cock stuck in your cunt, nestled and still drooling. His massive hands soothe over your thighs, massage into your back, pat your hair and caress your teary face. Awh, sweet girl. His lovliest, prettiest little doll. It's alright, your God is here, he'll soothe those aches and kiss away the pain. In the meantime, take a little rest, right on his chest, nice and comfy. Poor little mortal, always so tired. Keep him nice and warm now. Just like that.

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I may have gotten carried away.. but I hope you enjoyed regardless ♡

A Small Risa Message: You are loved, you are appreciated and you are allowed to enjoy this kind of fiction ♡

Property Of; SashiAvi

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Choiceless Hope in Grief

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Angst, smut. Word count: ~2k

Summary: Following the events of Rook's Rest, Aemond seeks refuge in the only person he has left.

Author's note: Day five of Smuffmas - fireplace and face fucking. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

“He is waiting for you,” Lysa informed her, poking her head through the gap in the soft linen of the curtains that afforded her privacy while she bathed.

She sighed at the interruption, loathe to be pulled from the relaxation that the warmth of the jasmine infused water afforded her. Taking her time was a luxury she often indulged in, her rank and demand within Mother’s allowing her to keep her clientele waiting. However, this particular patron was one that insisted upon punctuality, and his status ensured no leniency for this particular rule.

The steam that wafted up from the tub obscured her view slightly as she peered over her shoulder at the serving girl. “Has he been prepared?” she asked, not wanting to rise from the water until absolutely necessary.

“Yes,” Lysa nodded, “exactly as you instructed. And he has had his draught,” she added, lifting up the empty tray that perched precariously upon her upturned palm, as if to emphasise her point.

“And the payment?” she enquired, turning away and leisurely lifting a leg from the bath, pointing her toes up towards the ceiling and watching as the wetness of her skin glistened in the candlelight.

“Paid up front,” Lysa informed her, “two golden dragons and a silver stag.”

She raised an eyebrow, her leg dropping back into the bath with a splash as her lips parted in surprise. That was more than double what he usually paid her. “Any particular requests?” she asked, attempting to mask the apprehension in her voice, as nerves fluttered in her belly. When patrons paid so handsomely, it was usually in anticipation of services that were considered illicit, even for the Street of Silk.

“Just the usual,” the serving girl replied, shifting from foot to foot with impatience, “shall I tell him you need a minute?”

“No need,” she insisted, with a dismissive wave of her hand, “I shall be there momentarily.”

Lysa disappeared from the gap in the curtains, and she rose slowly from the tub as water dripped down the curves and planes of her naked body in rivulets. She didn’t bother to dry herself – high status clientele often preferred tangible proof that the women they had purchased for the evening were clean. She draped a silk robe of emerald green around her body, tying it closed at the waist; the fabric clung to her dampened curves, accentuating the shape of her breasts and hips. She pulled her hair free of the clasp that held it fastened to the back of her head, allowing it to fall in soft, loose waves around her shoulders. She would ordinarily go to the effort of braiding it, however, with the considerable amount that had been paid for her time this evening she decided that it would not be wise to keep him waiting any longer.

Sliding her feet into slippers, she walked quickly through the pleasure house. The heady scent of fragrant oils and incense hung in the air, doing little to mask the pungent aroma of sex and sweat, instead they clung together, creating an oppressive feeling of humidity.

Moans of pleasure, giggles and the slap of flesh against flesh floated out from each curtained partition as she passed, the thin drape of fabric doing little to protect anyone’s modesty, though all occupied within were too far gone in their carnal acts to mind.

Since having been burst in on by his brother and his retinue a month ago, the man she would be entertaining this evening had insisted upon more private quarters for his subsequent visits. He had been granted use of Madame Sylvi’s personal bedchamber for the services he paid for – an unusual privilege for paying customers, but one that Sylvi had been more than willing to offer to ensure his continued custom.

She pushed into the room, the warmth of the lit hearth heating her still wet skin as she stepped inside, allowing the wooden door to close heavily behind her. Though Sylvi had gone to great lengths to decorate the room with vibrant coloured silks, plenty of candles and plush sheepskin rugs, it did little to distract from its modest size. The space was just large enough for a double canopy bed, a modest table and chair, and the small fireplace that was kept lit day and night to keep out the chill and scare away the rats.

There he was, just as Lysa had said he would be. His pewter cup had been drained of the milk of the poppy it had once contained and now sat upon the table. He knelt, stripped bare, in front of the cracking fire – Prince Aemond Targaryen – the most fearsome dragon rider in all of Westeros, kneeling before a common whore as though their roles had been reversed. In this room they were, at least that was what he paid her for.

She allowed her eyes to linger upon his lithe, yet chiseled physique. Though his hair was loose, hanging in long, silver strands around his sharp features, it did little to obscure the sapphire which sat snugly within his left eye socket - the gemstone glimmered in the firelight, reflecting the dancing of the flames.

She stepped in front of him, gazing down upon him as she crooked a finger beneath his chin, encouraging him to look at her. She could tell from the lack of focus within his seeing eye that the opiates had begun to take their effect, and this pleased her; he was always so stiff, much too closed off before it did, which made her job harder. He was more pliant like this.

His hands reached up to rest upon her hips and he pressed his face into her lower belly, cuddling tightly into her, the tip of his nose flush against her soft flesh. She moved her hand away from his chin, bringing it to rest upon the crown of his head and gently stroked his hair. They remained like that for several moments, the only sound in the room was the occasional crack of a log on the fire.

“They have made me prince regent,” he finally said, his voice muffled against her robe. He pulled back to gaze up at her, his expression was soft, almost tired looking, “are you proud of me?”

Her eyes studied him carefully, taking in the darkness beneath his eye sockets. She knew that for Aemond to be made regent, the king would need to be indisposed, but Aegon had been in excellent health on the many occasions he happened upon this particular establishment in recent weeks. “How did you come to be made prince regent?” she asked softly, trailing her fingertips along his prominent jawline.

Aemond’s eye fluttered closed as he leaned into her touch. She watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed, before looking up at her once more. He answered as a child would when being asked who spilled their milk. “He fell from his dragon,” he said simply.

“How?” she pressed more insistently, tilting her head slightly as she stared intently down at him.

“He was in the way,” Aemond whispered, snuggling his face back into her belly, his grip on her hips tightening ever so slightly.

“In the way of what?” 

She combed her fingers through his hair, watching how the paleness of it shone in the firelight. It was easy to envision how Targaryens considered themselves to be closer to gods than men, when their hair resembled spun silver.

“He was not supposed to be there,” he murmured against her robe, “he would have ruined everything, Rhaenys would have killed him.”

A pit of dread formed in the pit of her stomach at the mention of Rhaenys. She had seen the dragon’s head that had been paraded through King’s Landing, an ill omen if ever there was one. Of course Aemond would have been the one responsible, not Aegon. She felt foolish for not having realised sooner.

“So, what did you do?”

“I burned him,” he replied simply, pulling back to gaze up at her once more, “and I will burn you too if you tell anyone.”

It made her blood run cold how effortlessly the threat tumbled from his lips, how little awareness he had of the consequences of his actions or the true weight of the power he wielded. It was almost childlike to witness, which made it all the more terrifying.

“I will not tell a soul,” she reassured him, cupping his cheek, “but you must realise that what you did was wrong. Did you want to kill your brother, so that you could take his place?”

He lowered his gaze, his brow furrowing as he looked pensive for a moment. “I…no…no, I do not think so. I just wanted him out of the way. But I am better suited to rule than he is, and I will never even get to wear a crown.”

“Be that as it may, even princes cannot simply take whatever they please whenever they please.”

“My own mother thinks I tried to kill him,” he said, looking back up at her, “I see how she looks at me, she is afraid of me. She said I am too impulsive to rule.”

“And what do you think?”

One of his hands moved from her hip, slipping inside the opening at the bottom of her robe and gently stroked her thigh, causing a shiver to run through her. Her core throbbed in anticipation for what she knew he was silently asking for. “I want only what’s best for her. To protect my family. To win this war.”

“That is good,” she whispered, and gave his hair a tug at the roots, making him hiss through his teeth. “Now show me just how good you can be.”

She widened her stance slightly, allowing her thighs to part, as she urged him forward by his hair. He went eagerly, pulling open her robe and using his thumbs to spread open the damp folds of her sex. A groan reverberated through his chest as he swiped a broad stroke with the flat of his tongue against her sensitive flesh, causing her to sigh softly, her head tilted back slightly.

“That’s it. Good boy,” she urged, holding him in place by the back of his head as she ground her hips against his face, working herself upon his tongue as he flicked the tip of it feverishly against her swollen pearl.

The sensation made her thighs tremble, the steadily building ache made it an effort to stand, and she wondered fleetingly how he was not uncomfortable having knelt for so long. The thought was immediately pushed from her mind as he latched his lips upon the delicate bundle of nerves and suckled hard. She mewled, bucking her hips, anchoring him to her with the vice like grip she held upon his roots.

His hands moved to her hips once more, holding her steady as he plunged his tongue inside of her, the tip of his nose adding additional stimulation to the outer parts of her, as he thrust the muscle into her repeatedly. Her skin grew hot and clammy with exertion, exacerbated by the crackle of the flames within the hearth.

The coil within her grew taut, and as though sensing it, he pulled out of her with a lewd squelch of saliva and arousal, redoubling his attention upon her bud, alternating between precise kitten licks and forceful sucks.

Finally, she cried out, holding him tight against her as she shuddered in ecstasy. White hot waves of pleasure rippled throughout her body as her inner walls spasmed with the force of her peak. Only when the final tremor had coursed its way through her body, did she release Aemond’s hair and allow him to draw back.

She gazed down at him, her mind now felt as foggy as his must. He was a vision of beauty, staring up at her, lips and chin shiny with her slick, his pupil dilated with arousal, as his cock stood rigid between his thighs.

“Are you proud of me?” he asked, repeating his question from earlier. “Yes,” she breathed, “my good boy. I am so proud of you.”

Read on AO3

More Aemond fics

[tsukiimonster]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

♬♪♫♩: if i didn't know better - Mac Lorén

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Letting another person wash your hair can be such a beautifully intimate act. It started with just that, but then transformed into more.

𝐚/𝐧: I'm so sad I missed out on Misty Invasion. Hopefully, one day, there'll be a rerun. Until then, I will continue to daydream about sensual shower sex with Sylus...

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5K

[𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐨𝟑]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: NSFW, smut, Sylus x fem!reader/mc/you, shower sex, established relationship, oral sex (fem recieving), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, P in V sex, biting, plot what plot/porn without plot, aftercare, growling/vocalization, body worship

The sound of rushing water fills the bathroom. Steam and heat envelop you, shielding you away from anything beyond the bathroom door.

He lathers the shampoo into your hair, watching as your eyes close and your eyebrows relaxing. The tension bleeds from your face; your shoulders fall. His fingers press into your scalp, massaging, careful not to pull your hair, gently scraping with his nails. Suds push between his fingers, and the scent wafts up, mingling with the steam until the space fills with soft lavender. You release a long, slow breath. His eyes catch on your lips, watching as they part with relief. He gently guides your head back under the stream of water. His eyes follow the path of suds from your hair, over your shoulders, down your sternum, to where they sluice through the apex of your thighs.

Something sharp and needy sparks low in his stomach. He gathers your hair in his hand, tilting your head to the side with a firm pull, exposing your neck. The warm water rushes down your body in rivulets. He leans in, mouth closing over your pulse, teeth sinking into skin while the water pours down his face. He’s met with a soft gasp as his other hand rests at the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, trailing kisses up your neck, along your jawline and finally meeting your lips.

The kiss is possessive and consuming, it always is with him, but there's no urgency. No desperation. Just an unspoken declaration. A silent promise like something exchanged between two souls in the earliest hours of the morning.

It's not something you have to reciprocate, this contract of his devotion that he is sealing with his lips. There's no quid pro quo. He offers it to you freely like a knight in service of his queen. Unyielding.

He pulls back, eyes meeting yours, his thumb brushes over the flush of your cheeks, admiring how the water droplets cling to your eyelashes. He grabs a washcloth and soap, then begins gently scrubbing over your heated skin. His hand leaves a trail of suds as he washes you with the reverence of an artist observing his muse. Taking his time; slow, thorough sweeps over soft skin.

He pauses when he reaches your stomach. Again, there's a twist of something within him. A compulsion. A need for you to feel the abyss-like depths of his adoration. How it burns within him hotter than the fires that dragons are born from.

He carefully lowers himself, knees pressing into the tile. Your pulse quickens at the sight. Dampened silver hair fallen over his forehead. Garnet eyes gleaming through thick lashes.

His hands slide around your thigh pulling your leg forward, then continues. The heat of the water, the warmth of his palms through the soapy cloth as he brushes it over your sensitive skin, it’s enough to make you lightheaded. You place one hand on the tiled wall, steadying yourself.

With every pass of his hands over you, you feel yourself becoming more exposed. Before, you were marble. Solid, yet soft. Now, you're slowly being chipped away. Details beneath revealed with each moment spent in his presence. Each time your eyes hold a moment too long. Each gentle brush of his hands against your face. You were being molded by the shape of his affection.

He finishes washing every inch of you with the gentle care of something that is precious. Invaluable. When he looks up at you, your heart squeezes at the hunger in his eyes. He catches every sharp intake of breath past your lips.

His bare fingers trace the skin of your legs and your free hand threads into his wet hair, the strands soft and thick with water. He slides his palms up your thighs, parting them. Baring you to him.

“Let me take care of you.” His voice barely audible over the rush of the water. A prayer sent up to the goddess that is you.

Your throat bobs, pupils blown wide, and you nod.

Leaning in, he lifts you so your legs rest over his shoulder, and nuzzles into you. Heated lips trail kisses along the inside of your knee, traveling higher and higher. You tremble slightly with each kiss as he inches closer and closer to where you want him most.

His nose brushes against your center followed by the press of lips. Torturously slow, he opens his mouth, and just when you are about to plead for more, your gazes meet and his tongue swipes through your folds. Your hips buck at the contact, and he moans as the taste of you invades his senses. Your gasps set his blood on fire. His already half-hard length beginning to swell further with an ache he's not sure will ever be satisfied.

He breaks you apart. Every stroke of his fiendish tongue is another crack in your composure. Every greedy pull of his lips against your damp heat hits you like a brick shattering glass. When he starts flicking his tongue, you can't hold back the sounds of desperation trapped in your throat. Your shoulders press back into the glass, your body heaving, the added sensation of the water caressing your breasts heightening the pleasure.

It's maddening, the way you coat his tongue like the sweetest honey made from moonflowers. He's never craved anything more in his life.

Now ravenous, he starts moving his head up and down, keeping the pressure firm as he laps at your center. When your hips start to roll into him, chasing your release, he groans in approval.

His hands shift to cup the plush of your ass for added support.

“That's it, kitten. Use me.” he rasps before pulling you between his lips and sucking with fervor.

A wrecked sob bubbles out of you, fingers digging into his scalp, trying to stay grounded to this moment. You're so close already. Breathing heavy, quick pants expanding your lungs before exhaling on a whine.

When he eases a single finger into you, your hips buck against him. He pushes in and out of you slowly. Once. Twice. Then he adds a second finger.

You cry out, back arching, desperate and keening, “Sylus…”

He growls in response as you quiver around him. He continues stroking you, fingers curling inside you while his tongue flicks furiously over your swollen sex.

The pleasure crests steadily, blossoming beneath his ministrations, before everything seems to slow down. Without warning you come. It's loud and chaotic. Urgent and reckless. You feel yourself becoming untethered as you're swept up in the storm of him.

As he continues working you through each tremor that wrecks your body, the song of your ecstasy bounces off the tile walls like a concert hall. Your voice is like a sonata that was composed just for him. He'll hear it in his dreams until the end of time.

Your body continues to spasm, thighs clenching around his ears, “Fuck…”

A whimpering cry escapes you as he removes his slick covered fingers and places a final kiss against your soaked skin before standing. He lowers you, and your still trembling legs wrap around his waist. The warmth of the water rushing over you as you trap his hard length between your bodies sends a lick of heat down his spine.

In a blissful haze, your lips seek his. Your patience long eroded and washed down the drain. He groans, turning to press your back against the tile. Grinding his hips into yours, the thick head of him sliding easily through your folds sends aftershocks rippling through you. Your tongues mingle and every inch of your skin touching his stokes the fire, becoming more frenzied.

Your hands grip his shoulders with an intensity that surprises him. The rough press of your fingers into his skin proof of how you are just as ravenous for him.

Breaking the kiss, he lowers his head down to your breasts, immediately drawing one peaked nipple into his mouth. The warmth of his tongue lathing over you sends goosebumps across your skin.

He runs his hands over you, up your thighs to rest at your hips. His fingers press firmly, and his head rests against your shoulder, grounding himself as he tries to catch his breath.

You gasp at the sensation of his warm slick skin against you. His skin is hot and you can feel him at your center heavy and throbbing with need.

“Sylus. I-” your words die on your tongue as his hips continue to push you into the shower wall.

He groans as he feels himself sliding through the remnants of your release, “So goddamned perfect…”

His breath is husky against your ear as he pulls an earlobe between his teeth, “Tell me what you need, sweetie.”

You can't even rouse the focus to play coy. Sylus always makes you speak your desires, no matter how long it takes, or how much you try to hide behind shyness.

Plush lips press against the spot below your ear. “You. I need to feel you… inside me.” you respond on a shuddering breath.

He looks down to where he is rutting against you, and he can't help closing his eyes at the sight of him sliding through your glistening sex, his length covered in your arousal.

You reach down and grip him. His eyes fly open as he lets out a huff. The molten heat that gathered at the base of his spine threatening to boil over. He was struggling not to come right there while you pump his flushed length from root to tip.

Your voice is a soft whisper, “I want you to fuck me, Sylus.”

With effort, he tears his eyes away, back to your face, as you guide him to your entrance. He wants to watch as you feel every thick inch of him filling you.

Your back arches when the head of him breaches just inside your center. He had stretched you out so beautifully, and you're so wet, so slick- there is almost no resistance. Your body is completely, irrevocably ready for him. As if you were made for him.

There is still an exquisite tightness as he slowly pushes in, giving you more and more. He feels you pulsing around him, impatience prickling just under your skin as you exhale on a moan.

He slides in further, the delicious burn of him inside you blotting out everything but him. All of your thoughts, gone except for one name.

When he's fully seated within you, you both sigh. His thighs begin to tremble with the need to move.

Sensing his fraying restraint, you whimper, “Please… Sylus-” your nails bite into his shoulders.

He exhales on a huff as pulls his hips back, then his voice drops low, “Oh, how I love when you're greedy.”

He rolls into you with a force that steals the breath from your lungs. Your mouth stays open, eyebrows pinched in ecstasy, the sensations overwhelming you in the best way. Your hands snake behind his neck, fingers gripping the wet strands there as he sets a relentless pace.

His labored groans against your ear only drives the pleasure higher. Knowing you are making him feel this good. Knowing with every muscle pulled taut with need, every desperate shuddering breath from his lips, and every rumble vibrating from his chest is a testament to his helplessness when it comes to you. He gives you everything, shamelessly.

He has never tried to hide the intensity of his reverence for you. You've never had to question what you mean to him. For all of his mystery, when those ever expressive eyes meet yours, they always show you exactly what he feels. People think he is hard to read, but you quickly learned it was merely a matter of looking in the right places.

Sylus was written in a language that only you understood. Etched into your very soul like ancient hieroglyphics. It had been there from your first draw of breath, and would remain long after your last.

Your back squeaks against the tile, and the steam of the shower is thick in your throat, covering you in its own warm caress. Your eyes are heavy, and as they meet his, you see the inevitably of your path, plain as day.

He must see it in your eyes as well, because he growls low in the back of his throat and places a hand between your bodies. His thumb rubs against your sensitive bud, sending a flash of fire throughout you. Your eyes squeeze shut, as the build up of all of the sensations come to a head.

White heat explodes behind your eyes, and your head falls to his shoulder. You press your lips against him, then bite down on the thick muscle. He lets out a roar as you feel his rhythm stutter before he is suddenly pulsing inside of you. His own release erupts from him on a string of curses, drawing out your own climax.

You feel as if you have become atomized. The very fabric of your being separating and entangling seamlessly with his as if it were meant to be. As if it had always been that way.

Wave after wave of ecstasy ripples through you until his hips slow, then stop. He stays inside you for a moment as he tries to catch his breath. His forehead falls to your shoulder as an aftershock pushes his hips against you one final time, causing a shiver to roll through you. Your mingling breaths blend into the sounds of the water as it continues to cascade over your joined bodies.

Once you've both recovered enough, he rinses you then guides you out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you before picking you up and carrying you into the bedroom. He lays you out against the sheets, before crawling over you and pulling open the towel.

Your still flushed skin blossoms with goosebumps. Covering every inch of exposed skin as your nipples pebble against the chilled air.

He lays beside you, arms encircling you, pulling your soft curves against him. A satisfied hum vibrates from his chest, as his fingers trail lazily down your side.

You smile, breathing deeply, nuzzling into his warmth. The smell of the soap you used mixing with his natural dark scent fills your lungs. A sense of deep satisfaction settles into your bones. Your energy is not depleted, but your body is ready for rest.

He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering for several seconds before you feel him relax further. His head rests against the pillows as he brushes your hair back. His hand finds yours, threading your fingers together. You fit against him like a puzzle piece he had been missing for a long time.

Early dawn light barely creeps from under drawn curtains. Slowly, you drift off like that. Skin pressed against skin, limbs entangled together. Your heartbeats falling into a matching rhythm, and your breathing continues to deepen until the last vestiges of consciousness evaporate like fog from the bathroom mirror.

[twstfanblog]

Can I request the Diasomnia boys reacting to MC being an Asian dragon as opposed to Malleus being a Western one?

Diasomnia Reacts to Asain Dragon Reader

A/N: Sorry I was away for so long!

Malleus

Delighted to meet another dragon that isn't blood related to him. You are now his best friend in the entire world, you're going to get ice cream now.

Is fascinated with your horns. Most Asian dragon depictions have them appear more as antlers. Ask questions on how you take care of them, do they have velvet or shed? Dragon flirting, touching each others horns before marriage, oh my.

Depending on your size, PLEASE wrap around him. He is delighted at your noodle shape. If you are small, he keeps his human sized form and you are his scarf. If you're big, he will turn into his dragon form and you can cuddle like that

Lilia

He's met more dragons than most people do in their lives and he finds it amazing. He's heard of your type of dragon but seeing is believing. Talks your ear off asking questions on where you've been and what your home was like.

Thinks your dragon form is GORGEOUS. Sadly, pretty they are, the Draconia bloodline are all clones of each other and that translates to their dragon forms. So seeing a different color is already cool. Seeing how many embellishments your form has is mind blowing.

Loving calls you a noodle. He's teasing, but if he ever sees you flying, he will remark on it being so windy that noodles are winding in the sky. Sure hope someone didn't throw their pasta in the air.

Silver

Lowkey was startled at first. Dragon fae are rare as hell, being just an actual dragon is a one in a million chance. He does assume you are royalty because how could you be anything else?

Very polite with you. Once he's more comfortable again, he starts asking as many questions as Lilia does. He finds the way you fly to be so interesting. You kind of swivel and slide through the air like a flying snake does.

He's seen Malleus's dragon form and the lack of wings on you through him for a loop. Is very amazed at every little difference you tell him about. He thought he knew all about dragons, only to have a new species basically dropped into his lap.

Sebek

He's having an internal battle because, CLEARLY, the Draconia line are the superior dragons. But also, you look so different, a part of him questions if you're really a dragon. But he can't SAY THAT. It's rude as hell, and you are his lord's guest!

Is so confused at how two things can be the same species but have so many differences that they might as well be two separate species. What do you mean you control water and the weather???

He knows your homeland has a lot of cities with tall and tightly packed buildings, doesn't that make flying dangerous? Mind is blown at the idea of 'Dragon Gates'. Is now determined to have buildings made similarly so that Malleus can comfortably fly around cities, too.

[lotusloong]

Reunited

Relationship: Nezha Reborn!Sun Wukong X Female!Reader

AN: Was hit with the desire to write a little something for Nezha Reborn after finally getting a chance to watch it. The beginning does use some dialog directly from the movie, but it does diverge from canon.

When I mention reader shifting to a smaller form btw, I was picturing a shape similar to Chen Loong from Black Myth, a bipedal dragon form to walk around in.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Imprisonment, Reunions, Kissing, Not Canon Compliant, Female!Reader, Loong Dragon!Reader, Reader's dragon design is based off a lotus flower idea from another Wukong story I have in the works but you can imagine anything really

Summary: “Why would you hide yourself from him? Aren’t you on good terms?” Sun Wukong snorts behind his mask.

“We were. Then he stole something precious from me. I couldn’t risk stealing it back in case-…” He pauses in his steps. A growl leaves his throat, and Li realized he shared more in common with this living legend than he thought possible. The repressed fury he could feel emanating from the Monkey King was something he knew all too well.

Read it on AO3!

“The Dragon King thinks I’m hiding from my enemies…” Six Eared Mac-no…The Monkey King laughs as he drags Li closer to the wide pit in the center of the room, the carcass of Ao Bing sliding across the floor behind them. “But I’m just tired, don’t even remember where my golden cudgel is. The Dragon King doesn’t even know who I am, really.” Li Yunxiang looks at his mentor with confusion, letting himself be dragged around.

“Why would you hide yourself from him? Aren’t you on good terms?” Sun Wukong snorts behind his mask.

“We were. Then he stole something precious from me. I couldn’t risk stealing it back in case-…” He pauses in his steps. A growl leaves his throat, and Li realized he shared more in common with this living legend than he thought possible. The repressed fury he could feel emanating from the Monkey King was something he knew all too well. 

His mentor shakes his head before straightening.

“He knows better than to speak to the Monkey King after that, so I became Six Eared Macaque instead. At least then I could keep an eye on things.” Sun Wukong supports Li’s limping form as they come to a stop above the gaping hole in the ground. Li holds his throbbing stomach as he leans closer to see over the edge.

“Li Yunxiang, the red ribbon was your Astra. The Sky Ribbon.” With no effort his mentor throws the dragon corpse down the hole, and Li feels the breath get knocked out of him as his feet are suddenly lifted off the ground. He panics as the ledge gets further away, distantly aware that his mentor just picked him up and threw him. Before he can scream, the firm grip of Sun Wukong is on the back of his armor. He feels very much like a helpless kitten being held by the scruff of its neck over the hole stretching endlessly far below his dangling feet.

“This hole leads to the East Sea. Under a waterfall at the bottom is the palace of the Dragon King of the East. He keeps river dragons trapped there, harnessing their power for his Dragon Pearl. The thing is, river dragons need fresh water to live.”

The missing puzzle pieces slot into place in Li’s mind.

“So he stole Donghai’s water.” 

“Exactly.” With a forceful jerk, Li hits the ground, his mentor staring down at his kneeling form. “The Sky Ribbon is tethering those dragons into servitude.” Li feels remnants of his rage come back to him, his temper wanting to flare despite how exhausted he feels. His whole life, his family and friends and neighbors…All suffering from drought their whole lives so a dragon god can have even more power over the mortal world.

“It’s too bad, Li Yunxiang.” Sun Wukong ‘tsk’s where he stands above Li. “You can’t do anything about it. You are not Nezha.” His mask is suddenly much closer to Li, his words cutting like a knife. Li can’t stop staring at the hole before him.

“I’m not?” His voice is a whisper.

“Kid only appears when you’re murderous. But when you want to help others? Poof, nowhere to be seen.”

“But hey,” Sun Wukong leans away from his personal space, walking away like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he doesn’t share the same rage Li holds in his heart, the fury he saw a glimpse of just moments ago. “If you were crazy enough to try and do something, knowing you’re not Nezha, keep an eye out for a river dragon with a connection to lotus flowers for me, yeah? Tell ‘em I said ‘hi’.”

And with those parting words, Li Yunxiang is left in the golden hall of the Dragon King.

~~~~~~~

It’s cramped.

You need space. You need room. You need freedom.

Your kin swirl around and around in circles with you, constantly moving, don’t sit still, if you sit still it’s worse-

It’s cramped.

You don’t remember how long you’ve been trapped here but it’s agonizing.

You used to be so much bigger. You were ‘yourself’ once, a river all your own. Your foggy memories are filled with visions of a gleaming waterfall, parting like a curtain to reveal paradise in a cave. Flowers of all kinds found nowhere else in the realms, immortal fruit trees and monkeys, a stone palace you shared with…with someone…

It was home.

And then the years pass and you see new rivers, new places. They weren’t the same but they still felt like home because of him…

You want to go back!

You would give anything to be free of here, to escape this maddening claustrophobic bowl, to stop churning water with your kin. After so many years, you fear it won’t ever happen. It’s been so long…

A rumbling shakes your prison, and you hear your kin screech in joy. 

A crack. 

A crack just along the rim of your cell, you watch as two of your kin slip through and burst towards the heavens, roaring their fury and anguish at having been trapped for so long. You can feel the others around you pulling their own power, screeching and roaring to follow, but the crack is forced shut. You throw your body against it desperately when you pass by, before being swept into a new lap by the other dragons surrounding you. Each one pounds their talons against the crack, throwing their whole body weight into the motion, desperate for that chance at freedom.

It works, you can see the crack opening again, another outside force trying to close it, but another rumble of the earth and the tower holding your cell topples, unleashing you and your kin.

None of you waste time, bullying your way through the salty water of the Eastern Sea towards freedom, uncaring of the damage you wreak. 

Fresh air.

Fresh water!

Freedom!

You give a mighty roar to match your kind as you ride the waves towards shore, thrashing in your excitement.

A feeling settles in your gut, something telling you to still yourself, you can’t thrash wildly and let your power loose. There was something…something about the land…your power could harm them all, they were so delicate…

A roar to your right distracts you, and the feeling is buried under your fury and relief.

You don’t care, you want to get revenge on the one who trapped you, you want to fly high into the open air and never look back, you want to see him again-

A sudden tightness wraps around your throat, jerking you back from the shore, from where you need to be, stopping you from getting back to your river. A trail of red and gold fabric loops around your long body, along the serpentine bodies of your kin around you, and pulls.

You choke, roaring in anger at being denied still. You won’t go back! You won’t! The ribbon will have to choke and kill you before you are confined to that horrible prison once more-!

You see your kin get pulled back as well, but they are released in a motion that sends them towards the heavens, clouds and thunder meeting them with open arms. You scream, desperate for them, any one of them, to turn back and help you. You’re pulled further and further down despite your struggling, decades of non-stop swimming in too close quarters with hundreds of other dragons with no breaks or food has left you weak and weary. You cry once more, reaching towards the heavens with aching claws.

You just wanted to see him once more…

“A lotus dragon…” A voice speaks near you. Through your haze you see them below you, two tiny creatures standing on folds and folds of red ribbon. The fog in your mind clears just enough for you to recognize them as human.

Well, one of them is anyways.

Your eyes reveal the truth of one of them, fire and power coursing through mortal veins. You growl low in your throat, tugging uselessly at the red ribbon connecting you to them.

“Wait, please. I-...Sun Wukong asked me to say hello to you, on his behalf.” The name has you freezing in place, all struggle put on hold as you stare with wide eyes at the not-mortal below you. 

“W-Wukong…” You rasp. You feel the bonds holding you tight loosen as the clarity returns to your eyes. Sun Wukong…yes. Yes, that was him. You needed to see him again, you needed it-

“Whoa, I understand, I’ll take you! Just, calm down please.” You take a deep breath, realizing you are much closer to the humans than before, your muzzle all but knocking over the not-mortal as you demand to see Sun Wukong. The red ribbon and fire surrounds you on all sides, shooting towards the sky and crashing down on the surface of the water with all the fanfare of a God. You let the ribbon lift your tired form out of the sea with the two humans, only now noticing the infant water beast the female holds in her arms.

Memories return to you, slowly. Moving to Donghai City with Wukong so many years ago, the giant metal tower he picked out right next to a serene and peaceful river flowing through the city. No other river dragon had claimed the water as theirs, so you had made it your own. The two of you lived happily; going on shared picnics to your new river, running through the city to cause mischief or watch live shows and performances, playing for hours on end with Wukong’s monkey subjects. The late nights you would come into his workshop to find him passed out over some new human invention, coaxing him to finally come to bed with kisses and the promise of warm cuddles…

You had built a life together here, after millennia of happiness and love. 

That had all been ripped away from you when the Dragon King of the East Sea had summoned you to his court.

“Almost there.” The not-mortal said. You watched ahead, eyes trained on the stone shoreline. A vehicle was parked at the edge of the water, a lone figure leaning casually against the metal shape before standing at the sight of your group. You leaned forward eagerly, your massive head casting a shadow over the creatures on the ribbon below you.

You didn’t dare hope.

There’s no way he would know you were here, right?

The not-mortal huffs in amusement, and the red ribbon lowers to anchor on the stone shore. He offers a hand to his human companion to help her get down, but you don’t need such help. Your massive claws grip the smooth surface of wet stone easily as the waves behind you crash together once more to form the sea.

His smell is the first thing you recognize on the breeze.

You immediately run over to the figure, dressed head to toe in pink with gold jewelry - if you still doubted this was your Wukong, you didn’t anymore after seeing his outfit - and all but tackle him with your large form. The Monkey King squawks, almost losing his footing as you press your muzzle into his stomach, your long body coiling around him. It’s only with his extraordinary strength that he can hold his ground against your nuzzling, his hands gripping your scaled cheeks like a lifeline.

“Fuck, baby, it is you, fuck-” There’s a ‘clunk’ sound as metal hits the stone below your feet, a mask made of steel and wood bouncing as Wukong presses kiss after kiss to your own face. You shudder as you breathe in, tears streaming down your muzzle and mixing with the rain currently pouring from the sky. Your long, sensitive whiskers wrap around and around Wukong’s smaller body, memories of his smell and heat and touch flooding your mind as you relish having him hold you once again. He chitters and chirps as he nuzzles back, his claws digging into your scales like you’ll disappear again if his grip loosens. The not-mortal steps close to you both, confident and self-assured.

“I got my astra back. And your girlfriend.” He steps closer, staring Wukong in the eyes. “I am Nezha.” And with that he turns and walks up the stone steps with his companions.

You glance at him, the red ribbon wrapped tight around his forearm.

Nezha.

Wukong must find the expression on your face funny, because he laughs. Gripping one of your whiskers, his other hand flicks a metal rod with a pair of dangling keys on it towards the other god.

“Make sure to bring it back in one piece. Need it to show my girl a good time.” Wukong snarks, and Nezha snatches the keys out of the air with hardly a glance.

“Got it.” He settles onto the seat of a motorcycle, black leather and studs gleaming in the sunlight, his companions settling behind him on the seat. As they drive away, you wrap yourself further around your monkey.

“That’s your ride?” You mumble into the warm fur of his neck. You feel his cackle as it ripples through his chest. His tail tickles your under arm where it wraps around your bicep.

“Yeah, you like it baby?” His lips press against your forehead, right at the base of one of your antlers. You realize you’ve been purring nonstop since you circled around him.

“It looks amazing, very hot.” You tease, a familiar habit you haven’t been able to participate in for years now. The wave of nostalgia and comfort that washes over you brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

“Gonna take you on so many joyrides, baby. All the time, whenever you want. Just-fuck, just don’t leave me again-” Wukong grips your antlers with both hands, burying his face into the scales of your forehead. You feel the warm, wet fur of his cheeks and realize he’s crying just as much as you are.

“I won’t, I promise-...I’m so sorry my love…” You whimper into his stomach, inhaling the familiar smell of wood, stone, and peaches. The pink fabric of his suit feels soft against your muzzle. You heard him choke on a sob above you.

“No, I’m supposed to be sorry. You were trapped down there and I couldn’t-I didn’t do anything! I couldn’t risk him hurting you but I should have done something, anything-” Your heart breaks at his words. You muster up what little magic your exhausted form has and shift, growing smaller to fit in his arms. You straighten up, standing on your back feet with your tail circling around the waist of your Monkey King to pull him closer to your chest. Your dragon nature is still on full display, but this form is easier to maneuver in when living in a world meant for humans. Now smaller, you bring your claws up to cup Wukong’s fuzzy cheeks, your thumbs wiping away the tears still dripping down to his chin. 

You press your lips to his own, finally getting a proper kiss after so long. You don’t care about the rain pouring down on top of you, you don’t care that his lips are salty from his tears and your own, you don’t care. Not when you’re finally back together. When you pull away, Wukong gives a high-pitched chirp of protest, immediately pressing more kisses along the length of your jaw and long, winding neck.

“You got Nezha back. You got him to help, that’s enough-it’s more than enough…” Your voice is breathy and light, the feeling of Wukong’s lips pressing against you feels so good, you rumble with purrs at the feeling.

“Stars above, I almost forgot how beautiful you are. My peach, my flower…so beautiful…” Sun Wukong purrs against your scales, kisses interrupted by praise and compliments you happily try to return.

“Can we-” Another kiss, “go home?” Another kiss against the base of your sensitive whisker, and your whole body shudders in response. “I want to go home with you, my King.”

Your words have an effect on the Monkey King; his fur fluffing up, pupils dilating and contracting rapidly as he swings your legs out from under you. Your weight is nothing to him, and you loop your arms around his shoulders, claws digging into the pink fabric hiding him from you. Within moments you’re both floating on a cloud and away from the rock shore of the Eastern Sea and to your shared home.

“Anything for you, love.” Wukong whispers his promise, followed by another kiss as he carries you away.

[linkons-most-wanted]

Dragon's Dream

Valleydream Bloom Extended Ch 6 (Last Chapter)

“I’m surprised you didn’t have someone cook today.” Sylus turns and raises a brow at me from his place by the stove. “Is that what you would have preferred?” “No. I like it when you cook for me.” His usual confident expression says, As I thought, and he turns back to the stove. “When we’re back in Linkon—” “Shhh. I don’t want to think about that right now.” “Someone doesn’t want this excursion to be over.” “Correct. I like this world filled with flowers where Sylus cooks for me.” He chuckles, slides the meat from the pan to two waiting plates, and brings them over. A kiss lands on my cheek as a plate settles in front of me. “I was only going to say I’ll cook for you any time.” My expression brightens. ���Oh. Good.”

~*~*~

“Tired, kitten?” He scoops me up from behind and carries me the rest of the way up the stairs. “There’s just this thing with my hip—the Hunter physician says it’s over-use… It’s fine except it acts up on longer days.” “That’s not fine, kitten.” “What am I going to do, not do my job?” “Yes. If—” “If I join Onychinus, yes, I know I know.” He chuckles. “What I was going to say is that if you take a bath, it might feel better. But I’m happy to know how much you think about my offer.”

~*~*~

Flowers of every color spill out across the valley, infusing the wind with their sweet fragrance. I feel as light and airy as the golden sunlight around me, and I run through the field, sending petals bursting into the air. I slow as I approach a low cliff and the verdant mound above it. Curious, I step closer. In shape, it’s vaguely similar to the skeleton I saw before, but the flowers covering it are so complete that I can’t see beyond them. It’s smaller than the other, though still towers over me. The peak of the mound rises and falls with a breath. Voice quieted by wonder, I call out. “Hello?” As the dragon lifts its head, flowers fall away, revealing gleaming black scales. A huff of its breath sends another surge of petals onto the wind. As the wings at its back stretch, leaves and flowers cascade to the ground. A shiver runs down its spine like a dog shaking off water, and then I can see all its magnificent scales, the dark color throwing off iridescent teals and purples in the sunlight. It lifts its head and stretches its neck, giving me an appraising sniff. My eyes trace the horns sweeping back from its brow and the shimmering crimson depths of its eyes. His eyes.

Read on AO3

A/N: Y'all, it's dragon smut time 😏

[dreamofjoys]

DAY 3 KINKTOBER 2023

7 min in heaven? More like 7 days inside you!

Main Masterlist + Rules / Next Day of kinktober (4)

A/N: Please read the rules on my kinktober 2023 main masterlist before proceeding. Rule breakers will be blocked.

Characters involved (separated): Malleus draconia(TWST), Wriothlesly(Genshin), Ayato(Genshin), Nanook(HSR), Luo Cha(HSR)

Sypnosis: After getting officially married, you and your husband decided to finally go to your long awaited 7 days honeymoon in a resort at private island specially reserved by your husband! Those 7 days were meant to be fun and relaxing, but why are you so tired by the end of it?

C/W: Public pool seggs, fem reader, dubcon, reader wearing bikini, choking(malleus), no prep, teasing, nearly get caught (ayato), ya'll got caught in nanook's part, npc death (nanook), luocha calls you a liar

BY OPENING THE TAB BELOW, YOU CONSENT TO READ DC/SMUT WRITING + HAVE READ THE RULES

Day 3 Scenario

"Mhmmm, it's nice seeing you wear something like this once in awhile." Your husband compliments, eyeing your body up and down like a hungry beast. You are currently wearing a set of matching black laced bikini that hugs your body in the perfect shape while your husband is only wearing a simple black trunks. “Of course! I specially bought this set while I was out shopping, it looks pretty nice right?” You gave your husband a quick twirl of your outfit, smiling sheepishly at his flustered reaction of your boobs and ass bouncing. “Let’s not start something that we can’t stop, wife.” Your husband mumbles under his breath, but you paid no attention to him as you dived straight into the pool, beckoning him to join you. He follows you suit after, jumping into the pool with a loud whoosh as the water splashes onto you. You laughed, playfully splashing water back at him while avoiding the water that was being splashed towards you. "Oh no, a monster is trying to catch me!" You shouted at your husband, faking a tear and pretending to be scared as you "desperately swim away" from him, who was the supposedly monster. "Tsk, naughty girl." With one powerful kick of his legs, your husband instantly plunges himself forward, swiftly catching up to you. "Got my prey now." He mocks at you in a teasing manner, hugging you from the back to "catch" you. "H-hey! Let me go!" You laughed, squirming in his hold that seemingly tightens whenever your ass accidentally rubs onto his cock. "Wife," his hot breath fans over your ear, a hand sliding down to cup on your sex while the other holds onto your waist tightly. "I am going to claim my prize now."

𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗨𝗦 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗔

You should have known that dragons are hunters that likes to devour their prey in an instant. Malleus is definitely not an exception. Despite being in a public pool, he has no problem tearing off your underwear, stuffing it into your mouth while his hand snakes forward to grab on your throat, forcing you to stand upright.

Malleus pulls his trunks down slightly, enough to just free his member from restraints before slamming it into your pussy. Why bother prepping you when you are so used to this?

"Mffmmm hnnng-" You tried to tell your husband that this is a public area and that really, anyone could catch you right now! But all you can do is to moan pathetically on your underwear while your husband fucks you upright in the pool. His free hand fondles on your breast, occasionally pinching onto your nipples and laughing when he feels you clench around him.

"My mate is so pretty~"

𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗟𝗬

"Th-thats very unprofessional of you! Wrio-" You gasped again when the tip of his cock kisses onto your cervix, making you squeeze tightly around him as you came in an instant.

"Dear, I think the pool water is going to taste like you now." Wriothlesly snickers, pulling his cock out with the tip just touching onto your labia before slamming himself back in, the water around you ripples rapidly at his powerful thrust. "Fuck!"

"Language, dear. What if people catch us?"

"B-but you are the one who started this! Hnng-" You were sure that nothing can convince your husband to stop fucking you in the pool when you caught sight of his wild lusted eyes staring back at you while fucking you into oblivion. Of course, Wriothlesly would definitely find joy in fucking you in the pool in your bikini outfit and watching you getting anxious at the thought of getting caught and drowning - not like he would let it happen to you.

𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗧𝗢

"W-why are we do-doing this again?Ya-yato." Your face was flushed in a deep red as Ayato's cock slides in and out of you in an agonizingly slow pace. Your back was leaning on the edge of the pool, legs wrapping around Ayato's waist for support as he fucks you slowly.

"You just look delicious in this outfit, wife." Ayato pants, before diving in to give you a passionate kiss on the lips. You moaned into his mouth when his cock abruptly touches onto your sweet spot. You tighten your legs around him, hoping to pull him close so that his cock can once again give you the touch of heaven that you need.

In the corner of your eye, you saw a couple of black figure walking past. You instinctively tried pulling away but the iron grip on your ass says otherwise.

"Don't pay attention to them, sweetie. I am the main focus here."

𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗢𝗞

The Aeon of Destruction pays no attention to your whines. He strips off your bikini and his trunks in an instant, letting the articles float on the pool as he maneuvers you into missionary position. Nanook literally folds you half, letting your back rest on the edge of the pool while fucking you relentlessly.

You want to yell at his sudden actions, but all that fell out of your lips was high pitched moans and the screams of his name. Nanook knows how to make the both of you feel good. He knows that one angle and position to aim for that gets your toes curling and eyes rolling to the back. The exact depth he should fuck himself in just to have your pussy walls grip onto his cock like a personal cock sleeve before coming all over him.

"Hey! You can't do this in public!" Somebody tried to stop the both of you, but one look from Nanook is all it takes for that person to burst into flames, leaving nothing behind but ashes.

Your mind was too fucked to process that you have just been caught and Nanook had just killed someone for stopping his fucking session.

𝗟𝗨𝗢 𝗖𝗛𝗔

"Let's do it discreetly, shall we?"

"H-how about we don't do this at all?" You shyly glanced at Luocha who only laughs at your suggestion.

"There's a first time for everything, wife."

"Lies! We did this yesterday for breakfast too!" You pout, wondering why your husband has been having such high hormones.

Many would think that Luocha was just purely back hugging you like a clingy golden retriever. Little do they know, he has your panties pulled to the side, his cock already found it's way to your insides. "But you like it when I do this, right?" With one hip thrust from your husband, you let out a sweet moan that only fuels the beast inside him to do it again.

"I like it be-better when we do it on bed." Luocha only smirks at your statement, hands reaching down to toy your clit, rubbing it in circular motions.

"Why are you lying? You just squeezed on my cock as if my actions are turning you on."

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 6 - MONTH 6 - THE CAGED BIRD

CONTENT WARNING - This chapter contains mentions of medical injections, bigotry, child abuse, self-harm, and attempted suicide. Reader beware.

FIRST - PREV - NEXT

I had my six-month check-up with Dr. Erian, an online appointment just like last time. No particular medical issues this time around, bloodwork checks out, genetic reconfiguration is stable. We can't do a thorough physical exam over the internet, but according to him, I am "the very picture of health, by the standards of your species". I'm a bit curious what standards those are, given that I have yet to hear about any other tiger therians. Hopefully there ARE standards, and he's not just giving me empty reassurance.

We also spent some time going over dietary concerns - am I getting enough meat, am I reducing my fruit and grain intake appropriately, that sort of thing. I assured him that I'm eating real meat with every meal, just like the booklet said to, I've been limiting fruits and vegetables, and I don't even have an appetite for anything grain-based. I'll probably miss what fresh bread used to be like, but I just can't bring myself to want it anymore. Apparently not every therian is following the diet they're supposed to, but the doctor didn't have any concerns about me, "assuming your answers are honest, Miss Alexis". What, does he think I'm about to lie to the one person who knows how species transition works?

At one point during the discussion I thought I heard him mutter something about a "foolish undine", but I must have misheard. Undines are water spirits or elementals or something - a fictional creature. Then again, so are dragons and lamias, but the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl, and I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia. At this point you could tell me there's someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog, and I might actually believe you.

I've hit the point of full fur coverage, so no more awkward bald patches! Unfortunately, this does mean I need to start taking my estrogen in a form other than skin patches, because there's nowhere left to stick them. After a lot of agonizing over the pros and cons of potential liver damage from pills versus facing down my needle phobia, I opted to ask my endocrinologist to train me on injectable estrogen. She made a somewhat tone-deaf joke about not being trained in veterinary medicine, but she was otherwise very patient and reassuring, so I let it slide.

I do want to state for the record that I am a big scary tiger who's not afraid of anything and I only cried a little bit the first time I injected myself.

My ears are definitely becoming much more sensitive - I keep hearing really annoying high-pitch noises when I'm around heavy machinery, and that happens a lot more often than you might think. My office at work is right next to an elevator, and whenever someone uses it, the motor lets out this gods-awful whine and I have to plug my ears until it stops moving again. My local grocery also has a few freezer units that give off a similar sound, constantly, and I've had to start wearing earplugs to go on food runs.

As for visual changes, I can see in the dark reasonably well, but I've also started getting headaches and discomfort when I squint or try too hard to focus on something. I guess I should probably just… try to not do that. I have spent a significant portion of my life staring at a screen, so my eyes probably aren't in the best shape overall.

Now that my physical changes are pretty much done, most people just assume I'm wearing a very intricate costume - at least, until they get close. No costume has mouth movements or facial expressions this realistic, and believe me, our top furry scientists and engineers have tried.

At one point there's a conversation on the humanity removal chat server about the political climates in our respective areas towards therians. Obviously, a lot of the right-wing talking-head shows have been shitting themselves inside-out about the idea of people giving up their humanity, especially the ones with a more religious bent. "How dare these freaks forsake God's holy image", "Humanity is a divine blessing and must be cherished", "We call on the one true God to smite these worshippers of the Beast", and so on like that. Excuse you, but I've never worshipped your discriminatory god and I'm not beholden to their 'holy image'. My goddess is one of beauty, love, and artistic expression, and the entire reason I'm changing myself in the first place is as an expression of self-love.

Most of us agree, though, that the absolute worst of the 24-hour news cycle doesn't have anything to do with how regular everyday people see us. In fact, we're rare enough still that a decent proportion of people don't believe we exist - they think that tabloids made us up to sell more copies. I don't know if that's better in terms of acceptance, but I'll take it over a torch-and-pitchfork mob running me out of town.

The conversation shifts to us sharing our locations, those of us who are comfortable doing so at least. We generally keep it vague, but most of us are at least alright with saying which country we live in. I narrow it down to a province for myself, mainly because my province alone is larger than some countries, but also because once we start to get noticed by the media and the world, there'll probably be no stopping our locations becoming known.

It's also going to get interesting if anyone starts asking how most of us are going to the same medical provider when he requires that consultations be done in person, or why the location he operates out of - Hyper City - doesn't appear on any map. Truthfully, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself.

The next day, I get a private message from the girl with the corvid avatar:

"Hey I saw your post when everybody was talking about where they are! I live there too!! We should totally meet up sometime ^v^"

…This is a dilemma. Obviously, I'm worried about the optics of a teenager meeting up with a 39-year-old she met on the internet, there's all kinds of ways that could be taken the wrong way, but dammit, I still don't know anyone like me in this part of the world, who knows if I'll ever find anyone else who's local? …I really want to try, but I should at least give her a warning, and a judgement-free out.

"Uhh I get wanting to meet up, but I'm more than 20 years older than you, would your parents be anywhere near cool with that??"

There's a long pause. I see her start and stop typing multiple times. I'm worried I've upset her. Eventually, she sends another message:

"I don't give a fuck what they think"

I'm taken aback by the harshness of the reply, and don't manage to type anything before another series of messages pops up:

"and they don't care what I do anyway so it's whatever" "if anyone asks I'll just say you're my weird aunt" "you have no idea how bad I want to meet someone who GETS IT" "humanity is a curse and I want to be free"

'I want to be free'. Something about that phrase hits somewhere deep, in a source of pain that never fully healed. Freedom from pain, freedom from self-hatred, freedom at any cost, even if it meant my life. I remember how that desire for freedom feels.

The only thing I can think to do next is ask if she's okay. Her response is to ask if I can go on a voice call. I'm not sure if she wants some confirmation that I'm a real person or if she just doesn't want the next part of the conversation preserved in the text log.

"Hey…", I begin cautiously as the voice call starts. "Can you hear me okay?"

There's a suppressed sniffle on the other end. "Yeah… I hear you."

For a moment I entertain the thought of going all 'when I was your age' and explaining that I was always cautioned against talking to strangers on the internet, but it's probably not the time for that. Read the room, Alexis.

She's not saying anything. I'm going to have to start this off, I think. Something harmless, something value-neutral…

"So from your icon, I'm guessing you want crow HRT? Raven HRT, maybe?"

"Crow HRT.", she states simply. "Crows are everywhere here, and I've always loved them, always been jealous of them. They get to go anywhere they want, do anything they want…" She lets out a groaning sigh. "Augh, this is stupid. You probably think I'm stupid for wanting this."

I can't hold back from giving a little bit of a laugh. "Hah! Young lady, one year ago I went to a doctor and told him to his face that I wanted him to turn me into a recessive-gene variant of an endangered species that doesn't even live on this continent, and then I threatened to bite him if he wouldn't do it. Fantasizing about being a crow is just about the normalest thing I can imagine compared to that."

"…You said you'd BITE him?"

I grin, though without a camera set up she can't see it. "Every one of us who seeks out humanity removal therapy is already a little bit inhuman, even if we don't fully know it yet. After all, why would we remove something if we felt emotionally attached to it?"

Another audible sniffle. "Holy fuck, you DO get it…"

"I sure hope I get it, it's not like I can un-grow the fur and the tail."

She gives a laugh, then there's a long pause. "…Does it hurt? Is it scary?"

"Sometimes. My fingers were REALLY sore while my claws were developing, and having your entire facial structure rearrange is no joke. As for scary, well, I sure get stared at a lot more, but I think I scare people a lot more than they scare me."

"Heh, maybe I want to be scary."

I frown a little. "I don't. I just want to be true to myself."

There's an awkward silence. After a while, I decide to bring up something I was curious about:

"So I remember you asking if there was a way to get species HRT without your parents noticing. I'm guessing they're not exactly supportive?"

She lets out an uncomfortable groan. "Mmmngh… They watch a lot of those news shows, you know, the ones that only run angry sensationalist bullcrap? Dad gets furious at the idea of anyone changing themselves, something about the 'holy sanctity of the human body' or whatever. He even thinks tattoos are blasphemy. Mom says it's the most horrific thing she can imagine, she nearly fainted when she caught me watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes."

"And here you are, wanting to be a bird… I'm sorry, that sounds really rough."

"It… It is." I can hear her voice faltering. "Hearing nothing but how terrible a waste it is, and how awful and horrific they are, and the whole time knowing that I'd give ANYTHING for it to happen to me, I just… I'm sorry, I just…"

"Hey, you don't need to apologize… I'm not going anywhere."

"I just… don't know how much longer I can take it!"

"…Take what?" I'm afraid to ask my next question, but… I just have to. "…What are they doing to you??"

Somewhere deep inside her, the dam just… breaks. She starts sobbing as she tells me about how her parents yell at her over every single mistake, how she gets shoved or hit just for being in the way, how she hurts herself just so the pain gives her something to feel and to focus on, and how she… How she once climbed up to the roof of her building and took a flying leap off. She had every intention to end her own life, but in the moment her feet left the ground and she felt the air under her arms, she experienced a rush of euphoria, for the first time she can remember.

…And a moment later, she broke a leg and several ribs when she hit the ground.

She explains that she spent over a month in hospital, a captive audience for her parents to yell at more, when they even bothered to show up at all. I'm too stunned to even react.

She's spent the years since then chasing that high, climbing trees and jumping off, finding rooftops and hilltops to go stand in the wind, looking up online videos of parachuting and wingsuiting and hang gliding, and when she first heard rumours about medical treatments that can alter one's very species, she started frantically researching. That's how she started finding other therians to reach out to, how she got involved in the group chat.

"Have you… had an appointment with Dr. Erian yet?" I have a feeling I already know the answer - something something, 'letter from a physician, two psychologists, live as your preferred species for at least a year'. The same horseshit I had to listen to.

"No… I tried to get one, but he won't see anyone under 18 without parental consent, and fat chance of ever getting that."

Huh. I hadn't expected that, it feels surprisingly principled for him. Though at the end of the day, it's probably just another liability thing - ol' Teddy Erian covering his own ass as usual.

"I just…" She's started crying again. "I just want to turn into a beautiful black bird and fly away from all this, forever… I just want to live my life on the wind, going wherever I want, never having to see a single human again…"

I can feel my own tears welling up, and that's the moment I make my decision. I'm going to meet up with this girl, and I'm going to find a way to help her. Maybe she doesn't need humanity removal, maybe she just needs to know someone who understands.

We decide on a place and time to meet up. There's a little cafe I like nearby, run by a trio of neurodivergent queer women. It's a public place, and about as safe for weirdos like us as you can get. Corvid-girl tells me she'll be the one with a feathered headband and a crow-skull necklace. I tell her I'll be the one with white fur and a tail. That manages to get a laugh out of her. I choose to take that as a victory.

There's something about the way she laughs that sounds a bit like a crow's call. I wonder whether that's intentional on her part…

A few days later, I'm sitting in the cafe enjoying a hot chocolate and a roast beef sandwich - extra meat, naturally. Dr. Erian said I have to start cutting chocolate out of my diet because cocoa is going to become toxic to me, but… chocolate! I did ask for a lighter mix though, so what I'm drinking is actually mostly just hot milk. Maybe there's a cocoa-free substitute out there I can look into…

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a squeal of delight emanating from the front door. There's a teenage girl standing there, staring directly at me with a look of amazement on her face. Dark clothes, pale skin, black hair, headband with feathers in it, and hanging from her neck, an amulet in the shape of a bird skull. I smile and wave a paw at her. She practically bounces as she walks up to my table and takes a seat.

"Holy SHIT, you're… And you even have the… Your face looks just like… Can I touch your paw??"

I laugh and hold out my paw. "Haha, sure, just watch out for the claws, they don't stay all the way inside just yet."

"Oh, it's okay, I'm used to sharp things!"

I wince as I think back to our voice chat from the other day. I REALLY hope she doesn't mean what I think she means, but I can't help noticing she's wearing long sleeves, even though the weather has been getting warmer.

She turns my paw over and squeals. "OHMYGOD you even have the BEEEEANS!" I can't resist smiling as she starts poking and prodding at my pawpads. "You look SO!! AMAZING!!"

Corvid-girl starts frantically complimenting all my animalistic features - "Your stripes are so pretty!" "I love your tail!" "Ohh, your fangs, they're so COOL!!" - and I start uncontrollably blushing. I never would have thought species affirmation would feel this euphoric… Naturally, being a teenager, she takes this as an excuse to push even harder, and I start covering my face with my paws, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You look just like the tigers they have on stage for those shows in Vegas!"

"H-hey, that's actually not okay…"

"You know, I bet you'd look good up on a stage too! Everyone would love to see you!!"

Instinctually, I let out a growl, louder than I actually want to. It has the intended effect, in that she stops dead and stares at me, but so do a few other cafe patrons. Oh gods, here comes the embarrassment again… "H-hey, look, it's just…"

"Sorry." She's gone completely deadpan, and stiff as a board.

I close my eyes tightly. Gods, why did I DO that?? First the waitress at that seafood place, and now an actual CHILD. I REALLY need to start getting a handle on these predator instincts. When I open my eyes again, she's still standing there, and she looks like she's on the verge of a panic attack.

I need to calm her down, need to bring her back. "No… I'M sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I just… The animals they use for those stage shows get abused all the time, and it's kind of a sore spot for me."

"…Really?"

Okay, she's talking, she's distracted, maybe I can still salvage this. "Yeah… Every species has baggage, it's one of the shitty parts of being therian, and tigers, white tigers especially, they're treated like show pieces, or worse."

"…Well shit, I knew they're endangered, but… fuck."

"Yeah, it's a whole thing, I try not to -"

Our conversation is interrupted by one of the staff tapping corvid-girl on the shoulder and asking to talk privately. She reluctantly agrees to go to the back of the store and talk. At first I think maybe she's being chastised for being a disturbance, but the barista who pulled her away is giving me some very pointed looks. Worried looks, I might even say.

If I angle my ears just right, I can almost hear them through the noise of the rest of the cafe.

"…other patrons were concerned… …young lady so close to a dangerous creature…"

I wonder if the barista notices the indignant look that crosses my face when they describe me as a 'creature'.

Corvid-girl lets out that bird-like laugh of hers. Her voice is a lot more distinct and easier to pick out:

"It's just my aunt! She's not a 'creature', she just takes meds to look like that!"

The barista doesn't protest as corvid-girl returns to our table, but they're still giving me a very 'You'd better not try anything' kind of look.

Corvid-girl sits down, seemingly a little more grounded, a little more sobered. "…I guess I never thought to ask, why a white tiger?"

I lean forward, head in one paw, and give a bit of a shrug. "I relate a lot to them."

"To… being treated like a show piece, or whatever you said?"

"…Yeah. When I was little, they called me 'gifted' and put me in a separate school. I remember being excited about it, but it turns out it just meant getting more homework."

"…Ew."

I smile a little bit. "That's what I thought too! They wanted me to be some brilliant prodigy, a genius in the making, but the reality is I was just more observant and better at math than most people, that's all. I actually had to take an extra year of school because I was so bad at it."

"EWW!!"

"I KNOW, RIGHT?? But, then I went to college and graduated at the top of my class, so the joke's on them in the end."

"I wasn't even planning on staying around long enough for college…" She still has a bit of a depressed air about her, but she's not going into a panic. Maybe I'm better with kids than I thought.

"Yeah, I remember, you were going to turn into a beautiful crow and fly away forever." I try to give her a reassuring look. "But hey, the human world isn't ALL bad."

"Says the woman who's turning herself into a wild animal."

I snort quietly as I hold back a laugh. "Okay, fair, but wild animals don't get the internet, or nice little cafes where weirdos like us can just sit and talk."

"Hah, yeah… Weirdos like us." She gives a smile. An actual, genuine smile. Suddenly all the awkwardness is worth it, to see someone so deeply unhappy smile. "That reminds me, I saw on the server you're into witchcraft, can you… teach me?"

Somehow I feel like I should have expected this. The goth-looking crow girl is into witchcraft, big surprise. "I… guess? Maybe? I'm not like an expert or anything, I've just read a few books and cast a few spells is all."

"Ooh, what kind of spells??" And now she's back to her enthusiastic self.

"Just some protective charms on people who needed them, a few card readings with a tarot deck, nothing much really…"

"Does it really work??"

"I mean, the people I cast those charms on ended up safe in the end, but who knows if what I did made a difference? Some of the card readings were scary-accurate though, I think I might have a talent for divination."

She laughs. "Gonna have to get you to read my future sometime."

We end up spending the next hour or so making small talk, getting to know each other, talking about the ins and outs of humanity removal, complaining about Dr. Erian, until…

"Hey, I gotta go catch the bus back home, but… this was nice." She gives a bit of a smirk. "Cool to meet another weirdo."

Before she leaves, I ask her name - I still don't know it, I've been internally calling her 'corvid-girl' this entire time.

She gives me a disgusted grimace. "Ugh, it's 'Margaret'. I'm named for my great-grandmother, it's SUCH an old-lady name."

"Margaret, like Maggie, as in magpie?" I smile a little. "Those are corvids too, you know."

Her expression softens a little. "…Never thought of that. Still don't like it, though…"

"Well, is there a name you'd like better? I can start calling you that if you like."

She freezes. Somewhere in her eyes I can see her mind working to process what I've just said. "…Nobody ever asked me that before. I'll… think about it." She turns to leave.

"Wait, hold on a sec."

"WHAT!?" She outright glares at me, then seems to soften. "Sorry, it's… never mind."

That… was an EXTREMELY sudden mood shift. Trauma response, maybe? "I… was just going to ask if you wanted a sandwich or something to take home."

"…Didn't bring any money…"

I shake my head a little. "That doesn't answer my question. Would you like me to BUY you a sandwich or something?"

"…Egg salad if they got it I guess…"

I go up to the counter and buy her an egg salad sandwich to go. She looks like she's going to cry when I hand it to her. I… probably shouldn't make a big deal about that, but somewhere deep inside, my heart breaks a little. Does she never have anyone just… offer her food?

I'm beginning to understand why she wants to leave behind the curse of humanity. I chose this path, I wanted to be a tiger, I'm running towards something. Corvid-girl, though? She's running away from something.

I walk her outside, and she starts to walk away, but suddenly stops, and turns back to me. She walks resolutely up to me, then grabs me in a hug.

"Soft…" Her voice is muffled against both my shirt and the fur underneath. "You're very soft…"

Once I get over my surprise at the sudden gesture, I hesitantly put one arm around her shoulders and pat her on the back. She pulls away after a few short moments, and walks away down the sidewalk without another word.

I touch my shirt where her head was leaning, and notice a small wet spot.

---

Time to play "Spot the References!" Intentional references below:

"something about a 'foolish undine'" - welldrawnfish (Fish HRT)

"the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl" - ayviedoesthings (Dragon HRT)

"I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia" - ariathelamia (Lamia HRT)

"someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog" - sonic-spirit (Sonic HRT)

"watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes" - Rain, by Jocelyn Samara D. (Dragon HRT)

[gazs-blue-hat]

King!Johnny MacTavish x Siren!Reader (kinda FemOC, but she’s never given a proper name, descriptions, or anything. No Y/N either)

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical Language, brief descriptions of injury and blood, storms (thunder and lightning), lots of ocean stuff (lmk if I missed any!)

AN- Dedicated to the lovely @sprout-fics who helped me out of my writing slump. Thank you forever friend. Another shout out to @deadbranch who indirectly inspired me to make pretty headings for my stuff! Thank you!

(Also, formatting may be weird due to me being on mobile)

Word Count: 2,802

There was a whisper on the breeze, as if the very sea itself was restless. Thunder cracks in the distance and lightning split the sky like some kind of beast tearing it open. Rain fell in sheets that created waves in the air, splashing against the tower of the castle upon the cliff face, mist settled against the glass paned doors of the royall chambers, creating droplets or condensation that clung to the glass before sliding down like tears on a face.

King John MacTavish pushed said doors open, his rough hands leaving prints in their wake. He should feel bad, but he knew the glass would be cleaned in the morning. Everything in his home was constantly being polished or shined or cleaned in some shape or form. He took a few large steps onto the stone balcony, his furs ruffling about his shoulders from the harsh wind. It was a dreadfully cold night out, his breath puffing before his face like the smoke from mythical dragons his ancestors claimed to have slain. He rested his hands on the salty parapet, scraping against stone that was constantly kissed by the sea. He looked out at the tempest, arms folding and shoulders sagging.

Oh the sea…

He sighed, his head hanging in a moment of pity for himself. He missed his old life. He missed the scent of the open ocean. He missed the feeling of the salt in his hair and the wheel in his hands. A ship captain turned king? Who would have thought? Certainly not him.

He looked down at his hands, rough from years of use on ships. Old calluses from harpoons and ropes slowly fading away from lack of use. His hands had never before been soft. They were a man’s hands, the hands of a warrior and of a worker. Not of…not of a cushy noble who sat in a castle all day.

He looked up, hearing the surf crash against the castle walls and feeling the mist settle on his shoulders. He turned his gaze to the churning depths below. The surf was rather high tonight, seeing as the moon was full and the tide was coming in. A particularly bright crack of lightning blinded him temporarily before the equally loud boom of thunder filled his ears.

The mighty captain turned king ducked and covered his ears, hands firmly protecting the one sense he truly was fearful of losing. His mind was filled with the memories of booming canons, the screams of men being torn apart by sabers and shrapnel from the exploding timbers of a ship. He stood, feeling the icy water spill onto his face as the rain hit the castle. He groaned and ran his hand down his face, feeling quite foolish for being spooked by a thing as simple as thunder. He used to take on giants of the deep without a drop of fear. Now he was simply jumping at shadows…

He scoffed and looked down at the swirling sea, watching as the foam and spray swirled in the wind. The tide rose again and a massive wave crashed against the cliff, momentarily blocking his view of the opposite shore. The water subsided and a low groan filled the air around him, seemingly coming from all directions. John spun, drawing his saber that he kept as his side at all times and pointing it at the space behind him. He checked the corners of his vision before slowly sweeping his attention across the empty balcony.

Nobody. There was nobody there. He sighed softly before sheathing the saber once more, turning to look out at the craggy shore. His eyes widened as he saw a woman, her skin scraped and scratched by the stones she now rested on.

“Steaming bloody Jesus…” the curse slipped from his mouth as he stormed back into his chambers, and hurried down the stairs. A few members of his staff yelped as he hurried down the stone steps, concerned for their king that was now trailing water through the castle. “Someone wake the surgeon! I may need her aid!” His voice boomed through the stone hallways and his Knight Captain nodded, the helmeted man clanking his way to the surgeon’s quarters.

John pushed open doors and hurried through the narrow halls until he made it to the docks behind the castle. Behind him, he could hear the rapid footsteps of the court surgeon following behind him. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Her words fell on deaf ears as he hopped over a low wall and scurried down the rocks to where he saw the woman. The surgeon growled in frustration while lighting a lantern, carrying it with her. “Damn it Johnny! Talk to me!” She ran behind him, ignoring the rain as it soaked her uniform and the utensils she had brought. “I can’t help if you don’t-“ she trailed off as Johnny held his arm up as he skidded to a halt, pointing at the woman who was laying on the stony shore.

Now that he was closer, he could see the jagged cuts and scratches along her body. He could see the blood staining the water red. He couldn’t see her lower half, seeing as the water was still lapping at her waist and the occasional wave rushed over her that would shift her entire form. He came closer, assisting the surgeon over the rocks as they got closer to the woman.

When they reached her, it was very clear she was in serious trouble. Her back was a mess of scars and scrapes, some older and some more recent. There was a series of marks on her back that Johnny identified all too well. She had been whipped, and aggressively too.

“I’m going to get a bed ready. Bring her to me and I’ll get her squared away.” She touched his shoulder and squeezed once. Reassuring him that she would be there if he needed her.

“Cmon lass…let’s get you warm..” his words were soft as he gently placed a hand on the injured woman’s shoulder. She didn’t move and she was freezing to the touch, giving Johnny cause to assume she was dead. He sighed heavily as he closed his eyes, resting more of his hand on her shoulder. His eyes snapped open when he felt her move. That same groan from before filling the air. He turned her over without thinking, ready to administer aid, hands hovering over her torso in the position the surgeon had taught him when he froze. She had…scales

Scales the likes of which he had never seen before. They were iridescent little things, trailing up her hips to her navel before becoming freckles against her skin. His eyes locked on her skin, the soft but cold skin of her torso that was covered in scratches and cuts. As his eyes trailed upwards, he could see that her upper torso was also coated in scales, a lighter shade than that of her hips that decorated her clavicle and upper arms. They were tiny things, glittering in what faint light he could see.

Her breath came shallowly and he placed his hand on her neck, feeling for a pulse. He had no idea if humans had the same anatomy as her kind, but he figured he’d try for a pulse anyway. A weak beat danced under his fingers and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was alive, for now at least. He was itching to learn more about this creature that had washed up on his shore but his thoughts were interrupted when a rather rough wave crashed over the rocks and soaked the king to the bone, or…more soaked than he already was.

“Oh for fuck’s sa-“ his curses died on his tongue as a bright bolt of lightning illuminated the source of the mermaid’s troubles. Her tail, which had been pushed into the shore by the incoming waves, was now visible for him to see. A massive amalgamation of fishing line, netting, and various hooks and harpoon heads had embedded itself deep into the flesh of the appendage and was cutting into her. “Oh lass…no wonder you couldn’t swim. Especially in this tempest…”

He sighed softly and shifted to grab his saber, removing it from the sheath. He shrugged off his coat and draped it across the mermaid’s tail, not resting his weight on her directly. The fur squished uncomfortably under his fingers and it was quickly stained by the blood flowing from the wound on her tail. With expert hands, he worked to slice the mess of string and metal free from the tail of the mermaid, being careful to not cut the injured flesh more. He removed most of the line with little issue, tossing it to the side and out of the water. The hooks were next and as he knelt closer to remove one, he looked back.

Eyes as stormy as the sea were looking back at him and he felt his blood run cold. They were slitted, like the eyes of the great cats from the stories back East and they were filled to the brim with rage. He raised his hands and held them above his head. “Easy…easy. I was just cutting them free. It won’t be pleasant, but you’ll be swimming in no time. Just…hold still.” He spoke softly, like one would to a wounded animal to get it to come closer. The mermaid didn’t move to attack him, instead she closed her eyes and lay back on the rocks, breathing heavily.

Johnny slowly and carefully removed the hooks from her tail, seeing how the fins were tattered and torn. Whatever scuffle this mermaid had gotten into, she had been lucky to escape it. Once the final hook was removed and he had tossed it to the side, he sat up, proud of his work. The tail was still wounded and blood still stained the rocks and water around them, but she wasn’t trapped by them anymore. He smiled and moved to get up when the large muscles of the tail twitched into life, spinning him into the water flat on his back.

He felt the water of the sea surge over his face as he fell back, a rock scraping across his shoulder painfully. He felt firm hands on his chest and when the waves receded, the face of the mermaid was above him.

Her glare was sharper than the rocks they found themselves on and colder than the rain that fell in sheets over the churning sea. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth opened to form a hiss. Her teeth were razors, sharper than a shark’s and probably just as deadly. Johnny couldn't move, his arms pinned by the waves and the sheer strength of the woman pinning him down. He felt her inhale against him, deep and long until she screeched.

The sound was deafening. Johnny covered his ears as the mermaid, no, siren shouted at him. The rocks rumbled under his scrambling grasp and his eyes watered in pain. The siren surged over him, diving into an incoming wave and leaving him with a slap to the face with her powerful tail. Johnny could only watch the lightning lit waves for any sign of the mythical being, but he was met with nothing but churning water and spraying foam.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood on the shore but eventually the surgeon came back, a lantern held tightly in her grip. “Where did the woman go? Don’t tell me she-“ Johnny held up his hand and showed her the collected scales. They had broken off the siren’s tail as he was working on getting the hooks out. The surgeon took the scales and held them to the light, inspecting them.

“Wasnae a woman. It was something else…” His words were soft and his accent thick. The rain had stopped a while ago but he couldn’t remove his gaze from the sea. Something there was calling to him, and it caused an ache in his heart to be away from it. If John MacTavish had longed for the sea before, he was now enraptured by it.

For the entire walk back to the castle, his eyes were locked on those tumbling waves, searching and seeking for a glimpse of a tail, or of skin. A glimpse of her.

“I’ll see you again Bonnie. I swear it.”

[jinanreona]

Stares at him while he slowly sets down a lion animal cracker in front of him. Waiting to see how he'll eat it. (idol au because they're so normal)

@fireandfae

He'd left Malleus alone after he'd stolen collected an animal cracker from him, having savored it as well as the cross look the other had tossed at him. He swore one day the dragon would learn to keep food hidden when he was around, though it seemed he was slow to learn. What a shame~

He wasn't prepared for the other to find his way back to him, half expecting the guy to finally give him an earful for continuously poaching his food. Instead, he could only blink in surprise when the dragon willingly slides over an animal cracker towards him. Oh? Had the little lizard finally learned to share with his co-workers? Cute~

The cracker seemed normal and were it any other shape, Leona may have accepted it with gusto and eaten it in one bite. However, looking at it now, he realized it was a lion. The shape reminded him of a certain brother; bigheaded and brawny for no good reason. Ugh, he would have rather Malleus given him a different snack. Somehow this one soured his appetite.

Rather than devouring the peace offering, Leona casually places a digit over it, slowly dragging the cracker towards the edge of the table where it teetered momentarily before it fell to its demise when Leona lifted his hand away. Despite the short distance, it was enough to snap the animal cracker in half, successfully beheading the lion with a few crumbs scattered around it. Long live the king.

Satisfied with the lion's violent end, Leona gives Malleus a dissatisfied look with ears flat. It's the only warning he gives before leaning over and snatching away half of an animal cracker that the dragon had already started eating. It disappears in one bite, the beastman giving a hmph as he finishes chewing before chasing the mild sweetness down with some water.

Whatever point the other was trying to prove was lost on Leona as he gets up then, leaving Malleus alone once more. By mere chance, his heel crushes what remained of the lion animal cracker, successfully turning it to dust. Oops~

[draconesmundi]

Dracones Mundi infographics to explain some of the dragon design features in my project :3

Image IDs in alt text or below the cut:

A labelled diagram depicting a dragon’s head. Labels are: ear slit. Wattle on horn that looks like an ‘ear’. Dorsal finlets made of thick skin. Overlapping osteoderms like Vancleavea (accompanied by Vancleavea fossil photo). Overall appearance inspired by pseuedosuchians, including extant crocodiles (accompanied by skeletal mount of Prestosuchus and a photo of a baby Nile crocodile). Smoother scales on belly for sliding though mud into bodies of water. ‘Beard’ or jaw wattle of thick skin. Rear venom fang, full of cytotoxic venom. The dragon can ‘spit’ like a spitting cobra, and the cytotoxins are similar to those found in puff adder venom. Lots of different snakes inspire dragon venom (accompanied by diagram of snake skull).

A dragon family tree accompanied by a paragraph of text. Text reads: There is a lot of morphological diversity in Dracones Mundi – dragons all evolved from a type of pseudosuchian, and had a basic ‘four legs and a long tail' body plan. Many families have atrophied their hind limbs, many have small legs and more serpentine shape. Dragon wings are not limbs, but patagium spread between osteoderm spokes, so there is a diversity in wing size and function (display, thermoregulation, camouflage) beyond gliding (only the flying serpent family really use them for gliding…). Flight is achieved by magic.

The dragons on the family tree are: turtle dragons, such as the cucafera. Firedrakes, azhdar and long are in one family. ‘Beast dragons’ such as the tatzelwyrm. ‘Feathered serpents’ such as coameh. Wyverns and cockatrices. Flying serpents or ‘amphitheres’. Wyrms and serpents. Sea serpents and lake monsters.

[aylish91]

You! You beautiful, creative, amazing person! It's your fault I got back into the fandom and now I'm hyperfocused on Leviathan!Tale, again! (No but seriously your works are amazing and you should be proud of yourself!)

I have a request for Leviathan!Tale, (if you have the time) when did the reader join the shiver? And how? Were they wondering alone? Maybe almost killed off for being different? How did the others react to reader joining? Were they scared and refused to eat unless Nightmare or Dream was near?

Hello beautiful Anon! I deeply apologize for how long this has taken me to get to. I have kept it and hoarded it like a dragon with its precious treasure. It has brought me such great joy every time I reread it.

I have made this for you, dear friend. I hope you are still with us undertale folk, and thank you! May you find answers within these chapters!

For those looking for the new/fresh chapter:

or below

~~~

New awakenings

Ugh.

You did not feel quite right. Your body was heavy and ached like you were coming down from a fever, lungs and throat burning and agitated. Guess it serves you right for going out on such a stormy night. Shrine Rock was sketchy to traverse on the best of nights, what possessed you into thinking you could do it with no moon and turbulent seas?

Uuuugh. You could be extremely reckless sometimes, but at least you were alive. A bit worse for wear, but alive.

Shifting, you contemplated opening your eyes. Despite your condition, you were starving and needed to get up and ready. It would be the last morning in your childhood home on the island and you had to get to the ferry by nine if you were going to make the bus into the city. You could tell by the muted bickering of your neighbors that it was already far past time you should have woken.

Groaning, you rolled to reach for your phone, blanket tangling around your legs uncomfortably. Shifting again, you weren’t expecting your bed to move or something else to wrap around you. Eyes snapping open, a frightened gasp left you breathless.

You weren’t in a bed at all. You weren’t even in your house. Wrapped around you were absolutely massive tentacles boxing and encasing you within their mass. They were a deep black, hints of bioluminescence giving them an iridescent sheen.

Warm.

Alive.

R e a l.

You would have thought you were in some sort of dream if you couldn’t physically feel every panicked movement. It made you roll and squirm, trying to bring your legs up to brace yourself against them. It also made you realize why the blanket had been so uncomfortable.

There was no blanket. And there were no legs…

In place of your legs were a mass of bunched and tangled tentacles, much like the giant ones surrounding you. They were curled up close to your center, winding amongst themselves. Out of reflex, you pushed away from them, only to have them unfurl and chaotically flail around. It was uncanny how you could feel each individual limb as they whipped around.

Then, everything tumbled and moved, the larger tentacles sliding away to open to the outside. There was a drastic drop in temperature as water flowed around you. Your breath hitched. Hunching into yourself, you frantically looked around.

To your horror, an animated skeleton seemed to climb or slide over the top of one of the tentacles, black trailing down from its sockets with a shark’s lower body. The connection of bone and body was seamless from the lower ribs down, some sort of glowing energy in the shape of a target above its bony chest.

You couldn’t move as it spoke.

“Finally! Would ya look at that. You made a little you boss.” It swam closer. “How interesting.”

Another, larger, voice vibrated the water. “Killer—"

To say you had a bit of an overreaction was an understatement. Adrenalin swamped your systems when the creature came forward with an outstretched clawed hand. Crying out, your first reaction was to kick it away. However, without legs to kick, your tentacles were the things that lashed out.

Two smashed into the face of its skull as a third and fourth wrapped around their arm. Startled, the creature jerked backward with a yelp, pulling you further into the open. Your limbs tightened, the rest flailing and grabbing anything they could reach. In the end, you grappled both of its arms and the majority of its torso.

You both made undignified panicked noises as tentacles and fins thrashed about, each of you doing your best to simultaneously free yourself while attempting to maintain some sort of hold on the other. The glowing target pulsing above his sternum continued to glow brighter and more erratic. One of your tentacles almost made contact with it but the creature managed to grab the appendage with a desperate snarl before it could.

“Boss! Nightmare!” A different tentacle found an opening around an upper rib causing a choked gasp. “A little help!!?”

You were so preoccupied unwillingly wrestling that you missed the laughter building around you. It took the rising rumbling chuckle vibrating the water again before you noticed it all.

Why was it so familiar…

Water swirled around you before large dark skeletal hands gently took hold of you, slowly removing your offending appendages from their target. “Calm yourself little fish. Do not fear. You are safe here among my own.”

You stilled, eyes wide.

The great Guardian Nightmare, thought to have been nothing more than a dream, held you in his hand, his fabled servants hovering not too far past the edges of his great limbs.

His shiver of loyal sharks.

Skeletal Mer sharks…

All the stories and warnings your grandmother had ever told you swarmed your mind. Everything simultaneously made sense and didn’t. You had heard many stories of the guardians saving wayward travelers and those loyal to them. But you were regular old you.

Had you really been judged and chosen?

…

Your thoughts were interrupted by a skeletal mer with shimmering golden fins and eyelights appearing over Nightmare’s shoulder, their subtle glow stunning you into stillness.

Their voice was as soft and smooth as you had once imagined…

“We’re glad you are finally awake. We were beginning to worry.” Gliding closer, he smiled, just close enough to be friendly. “I’m Dream. It is lovely to finally meet face to face. Nightmare was quite quick to hide you away.” His eyelights brightened with a sly look back. “My brother seemed to think you were quite agreeable.”

The giant hand you were in pulled away, another coming to shield you from view. “Brother. Perhaps you could be more useful and take the others to fetch some nourishment. Their sleep has been unexpectedly long.”

Circling your living barrier, Dream chuckled, playfully twirling his body as he went. “Of course. This is quite the occasion. If I must, I will keep the others busy while you get them comfortable.” Flicking his tail, he slipped past the shiver to call over his shoulder. “Come along then. We wouldn’t want anyone else spooking them and ending up like Killer.”

The circling mer erupted in laughter once again, the mer from before giving an indignant squawk as he darted after the mischievous guardian. It wasn’t long before the sound of their teasing banter faded into the distance.

The tension in your shoulders and… limbs eased, your fears fading away. Settling into the palm, you idly wrapped around the large bony fingers as you processed. Despite how far down you seemed to be, the world seemed clear and bright. Sunken ships of various ages littered the open expanse around you, your host casually sprawled atop an old wooden vessel elevated atop a rocky platform.

You knew beyond shrine rock was referred to as the depths, but still. How had something like this never been discovered? None of this felt real. You didn’t feel real, but the subtle twitch of tentacles and the feel of the cool water around you kept you grounded.

Your Grandmother’s stories didn’t do any of this justice.

You took a breath and looked up when you felt everything shift, Nightmare’s low calming voice bringing you back to him. “You must be full of questions. It is not very often a mortal finds themselves within our realm.”

You did have a lot of questions, but they all swirled and meshed together until they stuck in your throat. What was appropriate to ask? How should you address such a being? What did he expect of you?

Looking into the dark skeleton’s singular eyelight, A sense of calm overtook you. You had already talked with him before. There was no need to be so afraid. No questions had been wrong and there was no proper way to speak with him. Simply being yourself had been enough.

He had been so curious, kind, and alluring…

Regaining your courage, you attempted your voice. It cracked and burned, but you managed. “I had thought all of this was a dream, but… If this is true, I offered you my… Shouldn’t I be…”

He hummed, socket lidding. “Dead? Indeed. But I did warn you. When you offered me your soul, I took it for myself. You live, because I breathed life back into it.”

You could feel the sting around your eyes. “Why?”

“You intrigue me. It is rare to find someone such as yourself and you had already proved your loyalty. Sometimes, for a being like me, that is all that is needed.”

You mulled that over as you fought your emotions. “You are a Guardian. A king of the deep abyss. You chose to save me, grant me one of your gifts, because I was Interesting?”

That same deep chuckle vibrated the water, his body moving to lean against the mast. “In a way, little fish, yes.” He paused, grin turning solemn. “As I said that night beneath my raging storms. I am a greedy and selfish creature. I found you upon that rock, worshiping a being you had never seen and who had been silent for a great many years. You were not angry or pleading when you witnessed my approach. You did not beg or demand anything of me. We spoke cordially, as if we were equals. And when I then offered you my most coveted of gifts, you instead offered me that which was most sacred of yourself.” Tilting his head, he delicately ran a clawed bony finger under and along a few of your tentacles. “For that, you have earned my favor. Whether from my own greed or your appealing nature, it matters not. I have already claimed you as my own.”

Just like the night you died, you found yourself in utter awe of him, a warmth spreading through your chest from his admission. You couldn’t help redirecting away from yourself and your bubbling mix of feelings.

With a shaky chuckle of your own, you playfully looked up. “You might regret this later, you know. Look at me, I don’t even know how to tentacle properly.” As if by fate, one immediately jerked back to smack you in the face, making you grunt and quickly shove it back down.

The Guardian, much to your embarrassment, did a good job holding back a laugh, only letting out a quick rush of air… water?... before hiding behind an amused smile. “You will learn in time. You are still young and new. A pup does not learn everything in a single day.” He turned his head. “Isn’t that right, Cross?”

Your entire body twitched when you followed his gaze. A skeletal shark mer with one red and one white eyelight hovered a little away from the mass of Nightmare’s tentacles. The thing that struck you the most, however, was the jacket and belts he wore despite being underwater. The jacket was black and white with a fine amount of floof around the edges while two belts criss-crossed on what would have been his waist. The next thing that got your attention was his tail. Purplish in hue, it darkened around the tips of his fins and reminded you of a thresher shark’s tail. It especially gave you that impression when compared to the first mer, Killer’s, mako-esk body. When he looked up in greeting, there was a small scar beneath his right socket.

He looked uncomfortable, sending subtle glances your way as he fidgeted with something in his hands. “Um, yeah...” There was an awkward silence until he coughed. “I uh… Dream sent me back with something light while he helps the others. They went topside closer to the reef.” He held out a small mesh bag with what looked to be two crabs moving about inside.

Nightmare sighed. “I see. Let us take it elsewhere then.”

You had to brace yourself when everything around you began to move. Bringing you near his chest, Nightmare slipped down from the ship towards the bottom of the rockface. Once there, he ever so gently extracted you from his palm and fingers to set you down amongst a soft pile of seaweed and sand. Backing away, you watched in awe as he maneuvered the bottom half of his body into the curved opening of a cave. Even though it wasn’t very deep, it was enough to get his tentacles snugly within. It allowed for a better position next to your resting place more at your level. While you watched, Cross hesitantly swam down to join you, staying closer to Nightmare’s elbows a safe distance away. He didn’t relax until the Guardian had settled.

Loose sand clouded the water where the leviathan lay. “There. Now, if you would Cross.”

The mer scrunched into his jacket, looking anywhere but at you. “Yes sir.” Ever so carefully, he swam close enough to hand you the bag. “It’s not much considering, but they still taste good.”

…

Yep. Live crabs. You now had a big bag of crabs, and it wasn’t even market day. You suppose you were going to have to put them in your mouth.

Heh… Focus.

You had never eaten a crab raw before and they were still moving. Would the meat come out the same if it wasn’t cooked? Were you still susceptible to seafood poisoning now that you weren’t technically human? You were starting to get nervous.

Just staring…

Cross didn’t know what to do with that, becoming visibly more distressed. “I mean, I could go get urchins or oysters or something?”

You felt just as awkward. “No, no. This is fine. I mean, the other two things sound wonderful too, but I can just… Uh… I’ve never eaten it raw before? And they are still alive so… Um…”

You were floundering.

Nightmare chuckled when understanding dawned on Cross’ face. “Oh. Yeah. I forget humans like to cook their food.” Your tentacles curled when he came forward again, this time getting close enough to reach inside the bag. “They should be fine to eat. None of us have any problems. Here.”

Taking one of the crabs, he turned it over before jabbing the underbelly down the center with a crack. With it now limp, he grabbed all the legs on one side, pulling the entire chunk away from its body to hand to you. You tried not to grimace.

You had seen the fisherman at the docks and market do something similar (although either with a sharp knife, pick, or bang) so you weren’t surprised. But it was still raw, and he made killing it with his fingers seem so easy.

Cross was watching with such hopeful attentiveness now though. Quietly thanking him, you gave him a gentle, yet uneasy, smile and did your best to separate meat from the base portion connecting the legs. Using your newfound sharpened nails, you were able to get some just fine, and the smell was actually quite nice.

You still hesitated.

“Go on, little fish. You need it. Others before you have questioned. They too found their way. You will find your taste in food has changed alongside you.”

You couldn’t really argue with that. He was an ancient being after all who had undoubtedly gone through this with countless others. You wondered if Cross was one of them.

Nodding, you took a breath and made the plunge. It was startling how different it tasted compared to when it was cooked. Or when you had been human? It was good! Better than plain, although, you wished you were able to dip it in butter. Your stomach was at least ready to accept more if nothing else. The single taste was not enough.

You were suddenly aware of just how empty your stomach was, quickly digging, mashing, and pulling more from your meal. Cross graciously passed over the other half during your ravenous display, taking the time to prepare the second crab for you as you ate. You were so focused on eating at the time, you almost didn’t catch the dopey grin spread across his face as he watched. Nightmare grinned down from the palm of his hand. Your mind was too overcome by the frenzy to care.

They were kind enough not to mention it.

By the time you had finished, your stomach thanked you. However, you were far from satiated and your body still ached.

You sighed.

Tidying up your mess for Cross, you quietly thanked him when he took it and swam off to dispose of it. Nightmare looked on, eyelight sharp and focused.

Feeling self-conscious and uncomfortable, you sank into yourself and took a tentacle in your hands. If you focused on it instead, perhaps you wouldn’t feel so much. There were a few things you were curious enough to ask about too…

“You are in pain.” One of Nightmare's bony fingers startled you as it brushed against your limbs. Unconsciously, you willed one of them to wrap around it for comfort.

You had to look away. Cross was in the distance heading upward and towards something.

“Y/N.”

Something in you shivered at your name, but you never got the chance to answer him. A shout along with other voices announced the return of the others, Killer making a particularly quick approach. Circling the patch of seaweed, he smirked at your flinch.

“Wooow. Movin pretty quick Boss. Only the first day and ya already got em—”

You didn’t know tentacles could move that fast. One moment Killer was circling above, the next he was wrapped up tight enough to clamp his jaw shut. Nightmare was no longer as relaxed, spilling out of the cave enough to effectively sit among his agitated limbs, a couple looping around your little area.

“That is enough teasing for the day. Behave yourself. I am hardly in the mood.”

Killer didn’t seem affected by his predicament in the slightest, nodding with a muffled reply. As soon as he was released, he let himself sink to the ground with a wink. Dream, Cross, along with two others soon joined him with their spoils.

You ignored the pain and the suspicious eye of Nightmare in favor of looking over your new companions. Everything was strange and new. Only time could tell what was ahead of you.

You only hoped you were worthy of it.

Grand Master Post Leviathan Au

[thetentaclecommander]

First line tag game

"Rules: write down the first lines of ten of your fics or something like that.''

Thanks for the tag, @damadisangue! These are all Resident Evil/Biohazard fics. +++++++++++++ [a tribute of serpents and desires all for my Red Queen] io io io! Ever belabored prince of worms, do you not see your Queen under Her veil of red that burns all before Her? Or are you too filled with one's own rage heaving and teeming within to care?

[a tribute of serpents and desires all for my Red Queen, that began with a wound and ended with a dream] wanting and weighing her soft skin versus her hard mind so just in his choice mortality- what is that to a worm in the greater scheme? + SAVAGES (Flocking, Circling the Drain) We are tired; empty. Father always leaves us empty. We think it’s because of the drain of our fluids on the floor. Hot, sticky; a strange red shedding that this vessel leaves behind. The scalpel was Father’s key, the surgical tables the foundation. + Necromancy He sits calmly, idly trailing a large finger in the lake that flooded around him. It swishes and ripples, making round shapes in the expanse of red. The widening and drifting away of circles fill the shallow waters till they break one after another against a patch of partly submerged hair. Matted with the wetness that began and expanded from them, the blond woman laid on her side, eyes slit closed, mouth hanging agape like a bloated fish. +

The Gallant prince Gets to Choose The concept of restraint was strange, alien. Nemesis never had to concern himself with such a concept until he fell into Jill’s care. Restraint and its’ rider patience started from whom he could be ‘allowed’ to attack, to grow from how he could approach, to how he could touch her. + In his/our Image - [Faith in Demons] (I fell from you God, I did) (I fell from your grace so much remembered so fast it races in the mind faster than the cold cliffside winds) (it’s okay) + Nemesis and Jill Go to Horny Jail (Chap 4) Nemesis tastes the world from her and in her, tasting Jill with his tentacles in all he can access. The Tyrant revels in this; he snakes into any entrance and portal to be found inside his mate. One writhed between her lips, thin and agile stroking and slithering in between the papillae of her tongue, letting him savor the taste of meals past. + A Slumber Recalled, A Devil Held Jill looked up at the Tyrant through self-produced tracks of wetness; her sobbing was the harbinger of arriving shakes, of the mental dislodging of held in pain that dripped down her face in trickles of tears chased by an outburst of emotion that she just could not hold in anymore. The weight was too much, too heavy - and with painful ease, she threw it onto him instead. Threw it onto her personal whipping boy, her scapegoat that had forgotten that he could break her chains on him at any time. + boy decidedly is good for once and so gets to have his suit today Jill’s breath grazes against Nemesis’ teeth; a flick of her tongue and she teased along a fang. A low purr that she could feel through his suit rumbled from his chest. He had stooped lower to the floor for this; this allowed him to lean over and let said teeth graze against her exposed neck, sliding his maw open to trace a hungry tongue along her nape, teasing the faint hairs along it. + † doin' something unholy † Him: I’m a dirty dirty boy I wanna fuck your throat with my teeth; ((chuckles)) feel you up with worms in your guts anew do all the **** I whisper in your meat (how unlucky for you) unhatched eggs sharing room with all of mine till I pump your womb up with all of my wine maybe force a smile as you choke on my buckles + The Worm Prince – A Fairytale for a Valentine We are just Plague Doctors to them, You and I; worthless humans understand nothing. A Queen should just stay with Her worm prince. Let the filthy world burn as it matters not. +++++++++++++ Also! Have fun my minions @naerwenia @coiled-dragon @s-dei @lmshady @depraveddove @the-bar-sinister @unchartedperils @sweet7simple @meltic-daze @katophoenix​ @autistichalsin​ @villaindevotee​ @scroggles @jigsawwrangler and whoever else wants to I'm not your parental egg layer

[asthmaticplushiedragon]

In honor of season 5 I present:

The Samadhi Fire: Chemistry Analysis

The Samadhi Fire has dark red flames, which are obviously only supposed to show us how incredibly hot and inextinguishable they are, but as a chemistry nerd I feel obliged to look more into it.

The Basics

In nature, Red flames are most commonly produced by burning of Lithium (Li). Lithium is an Alkali metal, a group of elements known for burning when touching Oxygen or hydrogen - meaning spontaneous and immediate burns when touching air. And, well, who kept on burning until they literally split the flames? That's right, our boy Red Son.

In The First Ring Princess Iron Fan says that Red Son was a "promising addition to the Demon Bull Family. Too promising". No one predicted the Samadhi Fire, it was spontaneous. like the burning of Lithium. In JTTW they needed an entire fucking ocean to put it out, a terrible idea when we're talking about Alkali metals (that also burn in reaction to water), but. fine. okay. it's an Alkali metal that burns in red, so it's lithium.

The Splitting Ritual

During the ritual, Tripitaka used magic to hold the fire while they separate the fire into three - an act that would obviously be impossible according to science, but we'll let it slide. So assuming this can separate the fire: what would it be separated to? Lithium is an element, you can't just split it. That would cause an atomic explosion. So what is it?

The answer is that it's not pure Lithium - that kind of substance is extremely unstable. the substance burning in the Samadhi fire is a molecule called Lithium Chloride (LiCl), and the ritual was a simple chemical reaction that turned the Lithium Chloride, with a little bit of Copper, to Lithium and Copper Chloride, with a reaction i will explain in the next part.

The Rings And Mei's Ritual

In her vision, Mei sees three rings, each burning in a different color. in the original JTTW lore the fire is made out of all the elements combined, so that's how i'm going to refer to it. But, like, also scientifically correct.

We have the orange fire, created with Calcium Chloride and representing Fire, mainly with its color.

next is Blue, created either with Alcohol or Copper Chloride and representing water with the molecule shape and type (alcohol is a type of a molecule build, and although water fits this category it is an exception and is NOT considered an alcoholic molecule).

and lastly there's the green fire, which is created with Copper Sulfate and represents earth, because Copper in one of the most common Precious Metals found inside the earth.

The original ritual starts with one Copper chloride ring, one Copper Sulfate ring, one Calcium Sulfate ring, and a big ass Lithium Chloride fire.

Then we have a chemical reaction when Tripitaka uses his magic, and it turns into one Copper Sulfate ring, one Copper Chloride ring, one Calcium Chloride ring and a harmless little Lithium Sulfate that hardly ever set fire.

Mei's ritual is kinda just the opposite, but with a big twist: when Lithium Chloride is created it releases a heat wave much hotter than its regular burning, creating white sparks. In the beginning of the ritual we can literally see a huge flash of light before the fire is created.

Ao Lie And The fourth Ring

There wasn't supposed to be a fourth ring. Sun Wukong said it clearly. He lost control and Ao Lie had to take the hit so Tripitaka doesn't die, turning himself to the fourth ring. Now, is this chemically possible? Of course not! So what is going on here?

Well, what if Ao Lie used the copper inside his bones and muscles to trap the fire inside a Copper Sulfate "ring", like the green one? He used the chemical reaction of the fire with his body (and probably a lot of magic, too) to make a ring inside of himself, trapping the last bit of fire. That would also explain how Mei has the fourth ring - it's like a defective gene, it's inside her bones. That could be the reason for her dragon form's "fire breathing" even before the ritual happened, she literally has fire in her bones.

Mei's Control Of The Fire

When Mei just gained control over the fire, the flames were red, like with Red Son before. She tried to use the fire like him, with lithium Chloride as her base. But she was afraid of the fire and didn't understand what's happening, so the fire was reckless and couldn't be tamed. It was affected by her feelings, and she simply couldn't control five different parts of the fire at the same time.

"Don't use the fire, Mei. BE the fire". It was only after Red Son told her this that she managed to really bend the fire to her will - because she used the copper inside of her to catch the fire and make it part of her, truly. She discharged the other rings and even the original burning Lithium and used the fire on her own terms, with Copper Sulfate as the base.

Minor spoilers for season 5!

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When the Dragon fruit Duo try to seal the Fire Creature Mei loses control, which shouldn't have happened according to this theory. If the fire is inside her bones, she shouldn't lose her ability to control it.

But look at what Red Son tells her (Translation by monkiemacaque on Youtube!): "You evolved with the fire! You didn't completely lose your connection, and never once gave in to its will! You are its master!"

Mei never lost her ability to control the fire, it was still there. The only problem was that it was inaccessible for her - it's like a reflex, it's an irrational response and she can't use it on command. Mei had to learn how to force the fire to obey her will, how to turn her reflexes to rational actions. Like how Red Son used to punch himself to activate the fire.

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I hope this was clear and easy to understand, I can try and explain more if not.

I don't think there's much to add, but let me know if i forgot anything!

Only thing I think is worth mentioning is that in some shots the flames are black, which is also impossible because. you can't make black (AKA lack of light) fire (AKA light source).

Also have these parallel screenshots I didn't know what to do with.

[unfriendlyamazon]

The Coral Comb (inn for spirits short)

rating: T for Teen

pairings: Jounouchi Katsuya/Kaiba Seto

summary:

Jounouchi is called to attend to the demon lord, and can't help but feel like a fly in a spider's trap.

i decided at the last minute that demon lord kaiba needs long beautiful hair, and thus this little short was born. possibly not canon, who knows, not i.

part of my spirit inn au

Jounouchi sucked in a breath as he stood outside the fusuma of Lord Kaiba’s private quarters. It was a separate building down a rocky path past the hot springs. The sloped roof covered the engawa that overflowed with wisteria and hakone. Cherry trees framed the outside, painting the dark landscape with pinks. It faced the bay, where the lights of the distant city reflected off the water. The sun rose behind the tall structure of the inn as morning came. Jounouchi slid open the door. The front room was sunken to the rest of the house with an elaborate iron irori warming coals in its sunken pit. He crossed to the bedroom, gently sliding the door open. A large bed, slightly raised with dark blue silk sheets laid across it, took up one side of the room. Across from the door was a short vanity. A rounded mirror was ornately decorated with two dragons that curled up both sides, meeting in the center with open maws. In the mirror reflected the face of Kaiba Seto. He was half-dressed, the blue yukata he wore pooling around his shoulders, and his long dark hair rolled down his shoulders like a ribbon. His blue eyes met Jounouchi’s in the mirror. He did not turn to greet him.

“You rang?” Jounouchi said.

Kaiba didn’t blink. “Don’t just stand there. I have a task for you.”

Jounouchi huffed out a breath, and he crossed the threshold. The demon’s eyes watched him in the mirror as he walked to his back. 

“Sit,” the lord said.

Jounouchi ground down on his teeth. “What do you need?”

“Sit,” he repeated, and with a breath, Jounouchi got to his knees behind him. “You’ve only one task today, Here.”

His hand outstretched, and in it he held a single comb. It was coral in color, in the shape of a seahorse, with five prongs protruding in a soft curve. It was cool in Jounouchi’s fingers, and his hand felt too big, too rough to hold such a delicate item.

“I’ve washed my hair,” Kaiba said, sweeping his hair so it fell down his back. “I need someone to brush it.”

Jounouchi’s fist curled around the comb. He stood straight up. “You know what–”

Kaiba’s eyes rolled. He didn’t turn around. “I thought you would be pleased. You spend your days scrubbing floors and dishes, and I offer you something simple. Do you know what I pay my attendants?”

“At least scrubbing floors is honest work,” he said.

“Sit, Jounouchi,” Kaiba repeated. “I do not ask you to bathe me, or anoint me with oils. My hair is too long to brush myself. I only need your assistance.”

“That's it, huh,” he muttered. “And how much of my debt is this knocking off?”

“Enough,” Kaiba said.

Jounouchi looked at the comb, and he knelt back down. He took a long wet strand of Kaiba's hair in hand and yanked the comb through it. Kaiba's head went back with a jerk, and he hissed.

“Not so hard!” he snapped. “Is this how you brushed your sister's hair?”

Jounouchi's fingers curled, twisting ribbons of hair in his fist. “What did you say?”

“You surely have,” he said.

“How would you know?”

His blue eyes lit in the mirror, striking straight to Jounouchi's chest. “I know many things, Jounouchi. I do not take my debts lightly.”

His grip loosened. He swept his fingers through the soft strands and brought the comb to the crown of his head. This time Jounouchi was softer with his touch. He pulled the comb through, pausing where tangles began to form, sweeping down to the floor. The grimace on his face softened as he fell into his work.

The room was quiet, beside the bubbling of the private hot spring outside. A music box played a soft melody, plucking strings like a lyre. Kaiba smelled only clean, with a hint of sandalwood. He could imagine the lord laying his pretty silk clothing across the incense so it warmed with vapors.

As Jounouchi parted the hair to brush, he caught sight of Kaiba's back, and his brow furrowed. Long scars criss crossed the speckled skin, and from the scars grew more of the shimmering scales. His knuckles brushed one by accident, and he felt Kaiba shiver.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Kaiba didn't blink in the mirror. “I'm not ashamed of them. They've made me who I am today.”

Jounouchi combed through the dark hair, eyes down. He had his own scars, and they were a tapestry of all the things he'd like to forget.

“It makes sense,” he said quietly. “A demon lord should have some battle scars.”

His expression was unflinching, his mouth curved down. “If I let someone touch me in battle, I'd hardly be a lord.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Have you actually been in battle?”

Kaiba’s lips were a thin line. Jounouchi went quiet again. He brushed the comb down the long strands of hair. They were soft and smooth, and he wondered what he washed them with, if there was some magical potion the demon lord had, or if they got Head & Shoulders on this side of the door. He wondered if Kaiba would make him brush it a hundred times.

And after a while, well, Jounouchi felt calmed by the repetitive action. The soft strands, the cool comb, the rise and fall of Kaiba’s chest. It smoothed together like a shell washed over by ocean waves. Jounouchi felt cocooned in it, and he wondered for a moment if this was how the fly felt as the spider wove its trap.

“I still can’t imagine,” Jounouchi said, breaking the silence of the room, “why you’d want me.”

Kaiba’s cold expression didn’t change as he watched him in the mirror. “I’ve already explained my reasons.”

“Oh, come on.” Jounouchi shook his head with a smile. “Look at this place. Look at you. Everything’s so refined and perfect. Even this. I feel like I’m going to break this comb in half.”

He scoffed. “My things are not so delicate.”

“Yeah, but–” Jounouchi sucked in a breath. “If you know about my sister, if you know about me, then you know what I was doing before I met you. Who I was working for. How I scraped by. My hands are–”

He swallowed. The comb shook in his palm. Calloused and made rough by fights, his knuckles curled indelicately around the beautiful piece. His nails were jagged and broken, and the scars on his skin weren’t from noble battles that crafted a lord. They chipped away at his exterior, leaving a shattered statue waiting to be swept to dust.

He gasped when he felt the lord’s hand squeeze his own, tightening his grip on the comb. His own palm was smooth, the carefully filed talons and pale skin the picture of a demon lord. His grip was strong, stronger than Jounouchi expected, and he looked up into his bright blue eyes. His mouth sneered back, showing the sharp teeth underneath.

“I said,” Kaiba repeated, “my things are not so delicate. A pretty piece of porcelain can be shattered on a whim, but stone is carved, Jounouchi Katsuya. It takes hammers and steel and the sharpest blade and the roughest paper to smooth to a piece of art. I do know you, and I do know what your hands have done.”

He released his palm slowly, pulling the comb from his fingers and pressing Jounichi’s hand to his cheek. The scales were smooth, and the seemingly delicate skin did not break beneath his calloused touch.

“My scars show me what I have endured,” Kaiba said. “As do yours. I do not feel shame at them, and neither should you.”

Kaiba curved Jounouchi’s palm, and he stared as the lord brought his knuckles to his lips. The kiss he placed was too chaste, too light. The feeling overwhelmed him, and Jounouchi yanked his hand back. Kaiba only watched him, unblinking, as inscrutable as always.

“You’ve done your duty well enough,” the lord said. “I can finish readying myself.”

“Y-yeah,” Jounouchi said, rising to his feet. “Thanks.”

He didn't wait for the lord to reply. He clutched his hand tight to his chest and hurried back up to the inn. Jounouchi had spent his whole life as a hammer, and it was the first time he’d felt like a flower. It made his chest tight, and his hands tremble. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be led astray by an ayakashi, to feel its warmth and its comfort and get lost forever.

And he had to wonder, would staying lost be so bad after all?

[hcdragonwrites]

Home (a jttw fanfic- @journey-to-the-au )

Inspired by @journey-to-the-au artwork. Here is the art -

This is a POV thats gender neutral and meant to let you slide into the comfort of found family. So. Enjoy!

The sun was just settling down for the night. It cast its scarlet hues across the earth, through the trees and over the sky. It painted in water colors a twilight so full of hues to rival any master artist in the capitals of the Empire left behind so far back.

The road had been long today, the rocky mountains pass full of dust that Ba Longma tossed with his hooves and the rest of the pilgrims stirred. The mountain dust covered you, the sun had baked you, and you felt like a steamed bun. Since joining the little group of travelers you had seen fantastical things: fruit in the shape of babes, demons who could shape change, gods who could cast helpful or harmful hands.

You had been part of schemes, of fights, of plots, and of mediations between the pilgrims. It had been a long several years of hardship and laughter, of sorrow and joys. You had earned your place among the pilgrims. The respect of Tripataka who appreciated having another level head among them. The sibling like rivalry between Bajie and Wukong and their antics of pranks, trickery and teasing. Wujie and you had respect and kindness grown from the shared love of silent peace and tea. He was more of an uncle, this ex general, than anything you had experienced before.

And Ba Longma? The dragon horse may not say much but he loves to take a bit of clothing and chew contentedly on you. He would try and swish flies from your face and, if you came back with a bit of fruit or a sweet, he always had his ears forward and was wickering in excitement. The pilgrims held affection for you. Some as a elder sibling would to a younger, others as a father or grandpa to a relative.

“Let’s rest here for the night.”Tripataka relented and you practically fell onto the nearest rock. Your feet aches your legs cramped, and you felt dusty as if you had been rolled in flour.

You played your part. You set up the bed rolls along with Wujie. You gathered water with Wukong, who would not let you carry a thing- he just wanted to have someone to chatter to about the day. Ba Longma was brushed down and settled with oats and an apple that Wukong had begged off of the last villagers. As Bajie cooked the rice you sat with Tripataka, learning as much as you could of the scriptures he so adored and read over. They were worn with use and love.

Full bellies around a fire as the breeze of spring still ran chill in the air. The fire cast shadows dancing up the little alcove of rock and grasses that made up the clearing of the camp. You stretched and yawned.

First watch was yours this night- and if you didn’t prop yourself up against the rough looking stone and get into the most uncomfortable position, you would fall asleep. Warm food and good camaraderie always were a balm to the soul. It wasn’t this peaceful. Sometimes Wukongs pranks would go to far. Some nights Bajie have into his earthly hungers and wanted to cling to missing meats and the comfort of women. Tripataka may be disquieted on the prospect of the journey or Ba Longma may have taken to irritableness at the length of the day.

You were all people- having come together for one common purpose, from a multitude of backgrounds. It was bound to happen that harsh words were said, tempers flared, and feelings were hurt.

The pilgrims were a family in a sense. The strangest family perhaps, but still a family.

You yawned again, feeling the fires warmth at your back growing distant with each step. You muttered something- something along the lines of tired, of longing for sleep- and you did not realize the mistake.

For Wukong, ever vigilant to all things, had heard your mumbling and had perked. His ears twitched, his tail swayed and his smile became sly.

“Tired you say?” The Sages voice was light and lilting, playful in tones that you knew meant mischief was afoot. You turned to see the monkey come up behind you.

“Wukong…” you half asked, half stated his name. He held his arms open like he was offering a hug.

“Bajie.” The sage asked his brother, who blinked bakc to waking. “Don’t you think our little Sibling deserves some rest ?”

The pig demon looked between you and Wukong and sensed a game was to be played. Sometimes the other disciple was in direct opposition. Other times he was just as wily as the old stone monkey. Tonight it seemed he was of the former.

“I saw our fellow Sibling stumble much on the trail. In fact,” Bajie held up a hand, counting on his fingers, “I saw them stumbled a total of twelve times.”

“Brother Wujie…” Wukong turned his eye on the other disciple. The River demon huffed.

“They should not be the one to take the first watch.” Wujie tapped the side of his teacup, holding it out to blow the steam away. “For there steps today have been weighed down with many a rough and sleepless night.”

“It is settled then—“ Wukong held his arms out, stepping closer. “Come give your Elder a hug.”

You turned to Trip, entreating the monk. Whatever game Wukong was playing, you did not want a part in. You had first watch. It had been decided the day before. It was non negotiable.

Tripataka opened an eye, looking at his disciples and the advancing elder on the youngest of the group. He simply closed his eye.

“I cannot have the younger wearing themselves out.” Was that the faintest hint of a smile ? Wukong stepped closer and you stepped back. You knew the monkey wouldn’t hurt you. But — he was planning something. Ba Longma snorted at your look, flashing his teeth in a horsey grin as if saying I agree !

Of course - even though it was foolish- you turned to run. A playful run because there was no threat of danger- just of capture. Bajie chortled as Wukong leapt. Of course he chased you around the camp. As you played a musical game of keep away the others smiled. You dodged behind the monk, danced a ring around the fire, tired to throw Bajie at the impish monkey.

Wukong was toying with you- enjoying the play. These games reminded him of home- you reminded him of home. The willingness to cause mischief but remain firm when it went too far- the want to tell jokes and tease and taunt along with him- it all reminded him of that beautiful mountain covered in the scents of ripening fruits and soft flowery fields. So of course he played chase, letting you slip and wear yourself out.

Wukong knew how to tend to children of all ages and he saw you as one of his own- one of his own family. He had knowledge of wearing littles out. He was a grandfather after all.

Then one stumble of your legs and he had grown larger then a bear and swooped. Suddenly you were rolled in fur and laughter as the Monkey king caught you up and settled. He held you like a babe, arms crossed over your middle and his eyes sleepily peaking from beneath lids. You pushed to get out, wiggled and wormed for a bit of give. There was none to be had.

Wukong blew air into your hair, tussled you and rolled, setting you and he within the ring of firelight.

“I think our little sibling should go to bed now don’t you brothers ?” An uproarious agreement from all- Even Trip who had been smiling at the antics- was heard. You argued that you were needed to take first watch.

Wujie rose. “I will take it.”

You tried to say you weren’t pulling your weight. To your surprise it was Longma who broke his horse silence with words.

“You pull more weight, carry more burdens, and lighten our days. Rest is what little we can give back for companionship.”

You flustered, faltered, and fell silent. Wukong simply poked your side and elicited more laughter.

“You won’t let me go even if I begged ?” You asked. The great monkey opened one large red eye, the golden iris like the flash of golden rings on a lady’s hand.

“No.” He mumbled then pulled you closer in, curling and blocking the world. The warmth of the fur was welcome- the spring still held winters teeth and tonight they sought to bite and drive frost across the ground. The great orange fur was soft, the heartbeat like the roar of an ocean calling you home. And, though you were grumpy to have your decision taken from you, you soon found that sleep was a greater enemy.

It won in the end, as your hands curled into the fur, pulled into the warm and beating safety that Wukong offered. Nowhere in the world was as peaceful or as full of gentle warmth as here. Among the pilgrims, on this strange and desolate mountaintop, you felt more at home and full of love then in any city, village, or palace you had crossed.