#it's not like i can dull my sensitivity anyways

[tothepointofinsanity]

[I did not have a good rest. I can feel my mind looking around again. It's "seeing" something, overriding all senses with nonsense garble. I feel a dull, sour ache. It should not be surprising that I don't feel like "myself" at the moment. I just spent the past hour combing my hair in front of the mirror while arranging my bowtie. The sun hasn't even risen here. Who are you talking to. Why are you dressing up. For what. What was it that motivated me to make myself so presentable in the middle of the night?]

*Due to foreseeable circumstances, there won't be any Sayaka drawings posted this week.

[sleepymarimo]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫.

summary: law might hate bread, might hate sweets, but if eating them is the only way to show you how much he cares, then so be it. pairing: law x fem!reader cw: none! fluff, awkward law. some descriptions of food and textures if you're sensitive to that! wc: ~3.5k (wow!!)

an: this is for my amazing friend @guilty-sugar ! i recall you saying that you were good at baking, but sad that law probably wouldn't eat any. so, we're gonna make him >:)

i have not posted in soooo long so pls forgive me 🥲 i hope you all enjoy law and making him suffer by eating bread!!

the air is getting warm again, he can feel it. it grows so stuffy that he shrugs off his top layer, leaving him in that buttoned shirt he couldn't stop wearing after the one time you told him it looked good.

his eyes scan the medical papers in front of him, but his mind is annoyingly slow today.

law does a grand job of pretending that he doesn't know your schedule, doesn't know the tell tale signs that point to only one conclusion. the air grows hotter, the crew buzzes with poorly repressed excitement and the sound of clinking metal bowls echoes throughout the entire submarine.

it's baking day.

he's been preparing for this. he's finally going to face his biggest enemy yet, a foe that seemed much more intimidating than any warlord or emperor of the sea.

today, granted the ocean didn't swallow him whole, law was going to try some of the baked goods that you were known for making, including the bread.

the thought alone makes his skin crawl, but it pales in comparison to how small he feels in your presence. it irritates him, especially since your intentions have been nothing short of well meaning.

that's what he thinks, anyway.

law runs his tattooed fingers through the black strands of his hair, deciding to forget about whatever paper he's reading about in a bid to feel a semblance of control. he's overthinking, looking too much into things.

do you really smile at him more than everyone else? do you ask about his coin collection because you actually care or are you being polite?

within the upper quadrants of the polar tang, he can just barely hear the others hound you with questions about what you'll be making. no matter what it was, it was sure to be gone in a snap.

a dull thump shakes the sub, but he doesn't think much of it.

bepo, he thinks, probably slipped trying to gather ingredients for you. his suspicion is confirmed when the laughs of penguin and shachi follow shortly after, but the sound doesn't begin to compare to the one that flows out of your lips.

he represses a groan, his way of ignoring how his heartbeat momentarily diverts from it's usual rhythm.

his knuckles grip the sides of his chair, using it as leverage to push himself into a standing position before grabbing his hat and making his way to the kitchen. the air is almost uncomfortably warm now, but he can't find it in himself to be upset with you.

the submarine had been navigating the undersea currents for a while now. a visit to the surface was just about due.

it's not like he planned it like that. no, of course not!

he didn't even think about how the crew would be eager to hop off the vessel, didn't think about how you'd stay behind to bake while he took on the task of keeping you company.

he steps into the kitchen with curiosity, though his expression gives nothing away. it's that same almost neutral face, his brows slightly furrowed and lips teetering on a frown.

bepo is sitting on the floor of the kitchen, the flour dusting his form barely noticeable against his plush white fur. the bear is half-apologetic and half-embarrassed, the former directed toward you while the latter stemmed from the laughter going his way.

"sorry." he grumbles again, thought it looks like you couldn’t care less. bepo seems to have enough of his crew mates, tackling the other two men and making sure to get them covered with flour.

their complaints mesh with your amused laughs, a soundtrack that the polar tang's captain knows well.

law is blind to the scene before him, everything becoming out of focus as he spots you mixing some ingredients into a bowl. you're laughing, nose crinkling and mouth stretching into a grin that almost makes his stoic expression crumble.

the corner of his lips waver, just a little bit, your joy infectious in a way that makes him believe it's an actual disease.

however, he has work to do and baked goods to stomach.

"and what are you all up to?" he asks, arms crossing as he forces his gaze away from you.

it's almost comical how the four of you straighten up, abandoning whatever you're doing to raise a hand to your foreheads in a mock solute. the "hello captain!" that echoes across the room is practically in perfect sync, or at least enough to make him shake his head.

he sighs, telling you guys to quit it. "that doesn't answer my question."

penguin brings a hand down on bepo's back, a cloud of flour puffing into the air as he does so. "sweets day, cap!"

you affirm penguin's statement, tilting your head with a smile as you give a rundown of what's on the menu for today. some cupcakes, a few cookies and a loaf of sourdough.

just the mention of the bread is enough to make him tense.

bepo laxly nods in agreement with you, his black nose twitching as he catches the scent of vanilla extract. his head is in the clouds, not so much on his captain, so he decides to join you at the counter to mix some ingredients together in a bowl.

at the doorway, law gives penguin and shachi a deadpan look.

shachi chimes in with a grin, nodding his head in your direction. his words are meant to be sly, directed toward the captain, but he's unable to hide his amusement. "sweets day with the sweetest member of the crew, don't you think cap-"

"shut up." law interjects, brows pinching together as he takes in the poorly concealed smugness written all over shachi's face. it's on penguin's too now, while bepo has long since abandoned the conversation to help you instead.

it's only because they've known law for so long that the duo know how much he likes you. no amount of scolding or scoffs can make them think otherwise.

the captain can tell by their smiles that they think they have the upper hand, but he ignores them. law speaks before they have a chance to open their mouths again.

"get the sub ready to surface." he orders, cocking his head in the direction of the control room. "we're stopping at the next island."

that seems to get their attention, their heads perking up at the thought of getting out of the cramped submarine. the duo give law their best salute, scrambling away to make preparations for the sub's surfacing.

law shakes his head and lets out a sigh, taking some strong steps toward you and bepo. your dynamic with the bear is one that melts his heart more than he'd ever admit. the way you can shift from witty and bright to determined and caring makes him want to explore every side of you.

he snaps out of his thoughts when you lightly reprimand bepo for stirring the batter too aggressively, a chuckle threatening to leave him.

an announcement is made throughout the sub to prepare the crew for what's to come.

reluctantly, law makes his leave. he'll have time, he'll have you, but he has to take a couple minutes to brace himself for what will happen once the rest of the crew leaves the submarine.

another half hour passes before the sub's hatch is opened.

the fresh air is much needed, the cool breeze like a balm that quells the unease in law's chest. a series of footsteps echo throughout the submarine as crew members make their way to the exit, smiles plastered on their faces.

this island seems lively, welcoming. the sun casts a bright glow over the town in the distance, a plethora of shops and eateries nestled side by side.

even though law is staying aboard, staying with you, there's a sense of proudness that rushes through him as he takes note of the relief plastered onto the faces of his crew. he doesn't let it show, but clearly their happiness affects him.

he lets them run loose, trusting them enough not to cause too much trouble.

his eyes do narrow at penguin and shachi though, the two men snickering a tad as they walk off with bepo in tow. it's like they see through his plot, his ulterior motive, and the captain gives them a look that serves as a warning.

as the blurb of orange jumpsuits fades out of view, law is left with the sound of crashing waves and a light breeze.

his grip tightens on kikoku's hilt, a gesture that he hopes makes what he's about to do a little more easy.

the scent of baked goods wafts out the door, overpowering the salty sea breeze without issue. he can hear you humming along to some random tune, talking to yourself as you navigate through the kitchen.

he follows the trail like a ship to a lighthouse, drawn in by the warmth and splash of color you add to his life.

upon walking into the kitchen, he takes note of how your back is turned to him. you're washing some dishes, the spoils of your work organized neatly on the counter. just the sight of all the sweets is enough to make his stomach ache, but he persists.

you call out to him first, catching him in those all too common moments when he gets lost in his head. "captain? i thought you were gonna head out with the others."

turning off the sink, you dry your hands off with a towel and focus your attention on him. he doesn't miss the slight tilting of your head, how your eyes glimmer with curiosity.

oh, he was horrible at this. no matter how many times he practiced the script in his head, you found a way to unintentionally mess with his psyche. maybe it was your hair, your eyes, everything.

"needed to finish some work here." he lies, so smooth with his words that you don't even think to question it.

with a nod, you give him that smile, the one that pops up in his head while he's reading and makes him lose focus. "if you finish up, maybe you can meet the others in town. or you can keep me company here."

he takes your words in with a hum of acknowledgement, watching you navigate through the kitchen with a natural ease. for a second, he allows the comfortable silence to stretch. he summons all of his courage, swallowing his pride and nodding toward the delicacies on the table.

"can i…" his jaw tenses, the temperature in the room feeling as though it's rising with every tick of the clock. he squeezes the hilt of his weapon more firmly, his throat feeling dry as he looks between your confused face and the frosted treats.

he gets it together, not asking, but declaring. "i want to try what you made."

your brows rise at his words. it's not like your captain to try your baked goods. you'd never taken offense to his reluctance, as you were well aware of his eating habits, but this is completely out of left field.

one could hear a pin drop, his request lingering in the air.

"you… want to try them?" you echo back, unable to hide your skepticism. your eyes browse the array of treats, including the loaf of bread that was still cooling on its rack. "are you sure? which one?"

law doesn't mean to sound so snappy with his response, but internally he's freaking out. your doubt, the subtle concern in your voice, makes him want to prove himself even more.

"i'm sure." he insists, taking some steps toward you until he's at your side. his eyes scan the table, each morsel seeming to laugh in the face of his uncertainty. "i want to try each one."

your eyes follow his, the table sporting a variety of treats ranging from cookies to cupcakes to the star of the show, your fresh sourdough bread. in your head you prepare for disaster, creating a scene that's as comical as it is mildly concerning.

"if you lost a bet to penguin and shachi…" you start, giving him an apologetic glance.

he's quick to cut your accusation short. there are no bets, no pressure from anyone but himself. "no."

when he looks back at you, expectantly, as if he doesn't know how to approach this hurdle, you grab a plate and start to load it up. there was no way you were going to give him a full serving of anything, so you chop off a piece of each dessert and make what you think is a perfect sampler.

he takes the plate from you with a degree of reluctance, but the brushing of your fingers against his acts as a reminder as to why he's doing this. words aren't his specialty. hell, it's hard for him to show how much he cares in general, but he can do this. for you.

his tattooed fingers pick up a piece of… something. it looks sweet, like something he'd hand off to bepo. those black brows of his furrow a tad, as if he's trying to break down the pastry to an atomic level.

taking note of how he seems to be losing himself in his own thoughts, you speak up with confidence and snatch the remaining portion for yourself. "it's just a chocolate chip cookie." you explain, taking a bite of it yourself to show him how it's done. "flour, sugar, eggs…"

"understood." law sighs, trying and failing to act even remotely excited about what was to come.

his teeth sink into the cookie, only a small quarter piece, and he has to keep from making too much of a reaction. from the chocolate clinging to his tongue to the sweetness practically making his gums ache, he finds each chew to be a struggle.

but when his eyes lift to meet yours, seeing the look of anticipation on your face, he finds that the cookie isn't so hard to swallow.

his tongue peeks out to catch any remaining crumbs, shuddering as the sugary sweet taste lingers in his mouth.

he takes a step toward you, a small one, nodding his head and hoping you can't see the hints of pink starting to form on his cheeks. "it's good." he states, even though from your angle it had looked like he was trying to swallow glass. "what's the next one?"

it seems like eons have passed, perhaps the longest ten minutes law has ever lived through.

he swears his stomach is starting to hurt from the amount of sugar settling in there, and the smile you give him, the appreciation you show, doesn't make it feel any better. your presence makes him more jittery than any dessert, that much was certain.

while you were hesitant at first, not wanting him to strain himself, you can't deny that your sweets-averse captain willingly trying your concoctions was flattering, meaningful.

"okay, last one." you clap your hands together, glancing at the last piece of food on his sampling plate. it's a small chunk, not even worthy of being served as an appetizer, but to law, it might as well have been a death sentence. "the sourdough bread."

hearing the word alone makes law's jaw clench, his eyes narrowing as if he had a personal vendetta against the bread. even when he's picking it up, he can't help but scrutinize it.

"yeah, last one." he echoes back, his eyes finding yours in a sort of stubborn inquiry for support.

understanding what he needs, as usual, you grab a piece of the bread for yourself and hold it up. the nod you give him, allowing him to dictate the pace, seems to give him the confidence he needs to conquer this molehill he's made a mountain of.

after a playful countdown from you, he chucks the bread into his mouth and forces his teeth to bite down on it.

the first taste of it almost has him freezing up, his chest rising and falling slowly in an attempt to not let his nose wrinkle. the texture of the bread is killing him, the roughness of it seeming to scrape against his tongue in a way he's not particularly fond of.

hearing you hum in content, clearly pleased with the taste of your own creation, is almost like a slap to his pride- in a good way. he chews a bit more, it's almost damn painful, but he does it.

finally, when the last few chunks of bread are swallowed, law feels like he can breathe a sigh of relief.

"well, that's everything, captain." you smile, taking the plate from him and lightly placing into the sink. you're aware that this wasn't exactly easy for him, yet you're happy that he tried them. "what do you think? good enough for the crew?"

the answer should be obvious, as your treats were usually devoured within only a couple days of being made. law was confident that you could place ice in a bowl and the crew would eat it up without question.

"it's… good. everything was good." he replies, eyes following your every move. his heart feels a little more heavy in his chest, the lump in his throat harder to swallow than the goods he'd just tried. "the crew is lucky to have you."

i'm lucky to have you.

he inwardly curses himself for being so inexperienced with these matters and he places his hat on a nearby counter so he could run a hand through his hair. law is so caught up with his own inner turmoil that he doesn't notice how you grow a little bashful, how the laugh you give is more nervous than playful.

"thanks, captain." comes your response, the sound of clinking drawers filling the air as you started to properly store some of the goods for later. "that's sweet of you to say."

he hums, his way of telling you that he hears you. at the moment, he doesn't quite trust himself with speaking, his brows furrowing ever so slightly.

there is a comfortable silence for a few minutes, but it's not entirely suffocating. it's comfortable, almost welcoming. there are few people law was content to simply exist with, and you were one of them.

his mouth opens, your head tilting toward him as he states the obvious. "i hate bread."

it seems like a no brainer, your arms crossing while you change your position to face him better. "yeah, i know. what about it?"

law looks at you like he was looking at the desserts earlier. intense, almost scrutinizing, as if he would rather peer into your brain instead of hold a conversation.

"i hate bread." he repeats, the tension in his frame melting away a tad. "but i like it more when it's yours."

you're not sure how to respond to his admission, your jaw tense in a bid to keep it from falling to the floor. your captain is red faced, trying oh so hard not to just blurt out what he's been thinking for the past few months. it would be easy to get it out with a scoff, acting like it's not a big deal, but he knows you deserve better.

"everything has been better since… since you joined." the confession is heavy, the implication clear. this was no simple talk between a captain and their crew member.

while his cheeks get hotter, his brows furrow, his gaze doesn't waver from yours. he's watching for every reaction, anything that he can pick up on to confirm or deny his hopes, hopes which he rarely grants himself to believe to be possible.

your smile is a balm, the relieved laugh you give making him release a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"i can never tell what's going on in your head." your shoulders rise and fall with each chuckle, your chest buzzing at his words, at what can, will, come from this. "you didn't have to try all the food. especially the bread. you know that, right?"

his lips tug upward into a small smirk, his confidence growing upon seeing how you're reacting to him. it's enough to make him take a few steps forward until he's right before you.

"thought it would be a good way to show you that i mean what i'm saying." he answers, the taste and feel of the treats now long forgotten. "besides, i see how disappointed you get when i don't try them."

the way your eyes avert, the small tilt in your head, only highlights your guilt. "yeah, okay, maybe a little, but i wasn't gonna force you to eat bread. and all those sweets…"

"i'll have to get used to it." his shoulders shrug, his expression going back into that more nonchalant one that you're used to seeing on him.

the words have your brows furrowing in confusion. "what do you mean? are you going to start joining us for baking day?"

"no. i'm not eating bread ever again, so consider yourself lucky for being the only one to see it happen." he casually states, silently reveling in how you react, before he allows his smirk to grow a little more wide. "i just have a feeling that you're sweeter, and i'm not planning on giving you up any time soon."

[gallusrostromegalus]

In honor of the season, what are holidays like in the spirit world? Have they been infected by Christmas yet? I imagine they inherit some popular ones from the world of the living, but also the unique holidays of the afterlife must be wild.

You come to me, on the eve of the High Holiday of Halloween, and ask me about Christmas??

I'm kidding, you're asking about holidays in general but my unsuspecting Agnostic Ass just got jumpscared by Mariah Carey, and I'm sensitive. It's not the season. Not for another 48 hours at least. Do Not Violate The Sacred Treaty.

.

..

...

Anyway, this ended up in my drafts for a few days, so: Christianity has not really gotten a foothold in soul society, but via cultural osmosis "Xmas" has. Nobody in a Shinto afterlife believes in monotheism, but they love a holiday and a Saint is practically a Kami anyway, but.... It's "Xmas" because the holiday in no way remotely resembles Christmas as practiced in the living world.

---

Scene: 4th Division hospital, a few days after Rukia is rescued and Aizen departed for Las Noches:

"-CHAD!!" Ichigo bellows, almost falling in through the doorway of the hospital room, wheezing.

"I am very sure you are not supposed to be out of bed." Chad frowned, looking up from the copy of the history of soul society Captain Komamura had lent him to read while he recovered.

It was strange, to be in the care of the very people he had thought to be senseless killers not two weeks ago, but he was finding the Shinigami a generally agreeable lot. Even if the captain that controlled the hospital reminded him unpleasantly of a nun with her chaste dress, soft voice and understated but constant threat of violence.

"YOU NEED YO HEAR THIS-! He- hee-" Ichigo stumbled over to his bed and curled up on his side overcome with giggles.

"... I'm beginning to think I am incorrect." Sighed the pale-haired man at the door, frowning down at Ichigo.

"Jushiro Ukitake, I don't think I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance yet, Mr.-?" The man introduced himself and offered Chad a hand.

"Uh. Yasutora. Sado Yasutora. But everyone calls me Chad." He mumbled, cautiously shaking hands with the stranger. "You're um. You're Miss Rukia 's boss, right?"

"Yes! I believe you are her friend with the pet parakeet and good throwing arm, yes?" Ukitake beamed at him and Chad was suddenly struck by the idea that he'd seen Ukitake at a family reunion before - Impossible, obviously, but the man had the intense aura of a distant uncle. "Good show that, she loves being hurled at an opponent!"

"Oh. Thank you." Chad mumbled, Ichigo finally catching his breath. "...What are you incorrect about?"

"Christmas, apparently." Ukitake frowned, and Ichigo dissolved into snickering again. "He says you're something of an expert on the actual mythology, I only have third-hand accounts, you see-"

"No!" Gasped Ichigo, reaching over to tug at Mr. Ukitake's sleeve. "You gotta tell him!"

"I am Catholic, yes." Chad nodded. "-go on. It can't be less accurate than the version Dr. Kurosaki- Uh, Ichigo's dad- gave me last year."

"Yeah it can-" Ichigo wheezed.

"Well, ah- Christmas is a birthday celebration for an important religious figure, right?" Ukitake tried.

"Yep!" Chad nodded, giving Ukitake a thumbs up.

"The birth of Rudolph, the Star-nosed reindeer?" Ukitake tried.

Chad stared at him blankly for a moment, before his thumbs-up slowly wilted into a thumbs down and Ichigo vibrated silently with hysterics. Chad opened and closed his mouth a few times, hand waving, then covered his mouth, searching for words. Eventually he reached out and gently put his hand on the captain's shoulder to explain as delicately as possible-

"...No." Said Chad.

Ichigo rolled off the bed with a dull thud.

"-I am, however, fascinated." Chad elaborated. "Please continue."

"...I'm really sorry that I am this ignorant of your religious dogma." Ukitake winced.

"It's- don't worry about it. Tell me what you think happens on Rudolph's birthday." Chad said, sitting back and pressing his hands together.

"Well- oh, how does it start? Right- there's the Monks- Saints? that give out presents to well-behaved children during the winter holidays- Saint Claus, Saint Nicolas and Saint Kringle. And they're all very old men, and with good judgement about who does and does not deserve presents, so they're called the three wise men!"

Ichigo made a noise like a teakettle from the floor.

"Oh. Oh no." Chad giggled.

"And they travel the entire world giving out presents, but that's A Lot of houses and it was taking them longer and longer so they prayed to... I forget the name Catholics have for Amaterasu. Guadalupe?"

Chad made a noise not unlike a violently squeezing a rubber duck, and started to shake.

"-So they pray for some help getting all the presents to the children, and Whoever She Is says they're doing good deeds, but she wants to see if they're REALLY worthy of that kind of miracle, so she sends them on a journey to recover some lost holy treasures, and on the way each of the holy men wrestles with and tames a demon representing some vice or another-"

"-I. I think you've gotten the Star of Bethlehem mixed up with The Journey West." Chad realized, hands pressed together in front of his face.

"Yes that's right! She marks the direction they're supposed to be going with a bright star! So they go West, following the star! "-Ok the three wise men traveling from the east following a star part is, in fact, accurate. What's this about demons?"

"It's some sort of allegory about how all the Saints are virtues so the demons represent the vices people fall into around the holiday- Being punitive or penurious and ruining good things for others. They all had weird names-" Ukitake frowned.

"What's going on?" Captain Kyorauku asked, sticking his head in the door.

"You'll know!" Ukitake chirped with excitement. "-What are the three demons the saints conquer in the Christmas myth?"

"Krampus the Child-beater, Scrooge the Miser, and... Ah fuck I always mispronounce the last one. He's green and he sucks? The Goonch?" Shunsui frowned.

"THE GOONCH?" Ichigo shrieked from the floor.

"I. I think you mean The Grinch." Chad said, experiencing a brand new combination of horror, delight and fascination that felt like the emotional equivalent of a shrimp color.

"That's him! Oscar The Grinch!" Shunsui nodded. "Why, its only August? Also, what's Kurosaki doing on the floor?

"We are apparently very misninformed about the mythlogical origins of Christmas. This amuses Kurosaki to the point of hysterics." Ukitake explained, lightly nudging Ichigo aside with his foot and sitting on the foot of Chad's bed.

"Your version is so much better." Chad said, vibrating with excitement. "What are these treasures they're supposed to get?"

"Oh you had to ask- Shunsui love, you were the one that heard it all from Captain Kuchiki when he did his tour in the living world."

"Oh for fuckssake of course it's Byakuya-" Ichigo groaned from the floor, and Ukitake gently kicked him in the ribs to shush him.

"Uhhhh... Let's see-" Shunsui scratched at his beard."There's Eight Lost Treasures, they're all magical bells that give anyone who rings them supernatural abilities- there's the Bell of Speed, Bell of Grace, Bell of Balance, Bell of Cunning, Bell of... ah fuck. I always forget the two in the middle... -Oh! Bell of destination- not like fate, like, always being able to find your way to where you're going. Bell of Affection, Bell that gives power over wind and Bell that gives power over lighting!"

Chad blinked at him, then slowly crumpled into a ball.

"...Mr. Yasutora?" Ukitake asked, gently touching his shoulder.

"This is amazing. I love it. I'm going to die." he whimpered, voice high and tight as he struggled to breathe from laughing.

"We may have already lost Mr. Kurosaki." Shunsui muttered, poking Ichigo's shoulder with his toe. "Anyway, they conquer the demons, get all the magical bells and make it to the distant city, aand Amaterasu says 'Great job!" Ukitake continued, enthusiastic as they approached his favorite part. "-But she says 'Here's your final test: I'm going to give a special gift to one of these creatures, you tell me which is the most deserving of my favor.' and then she turns them loose in some kind of farm with talking animals. They're all good and noble animals that have done many brave deeds- dogs saved children from drowning, horse that ran across a battlefield to deliver a message that stopped a war and so on- eventually the saints find a brand new baby fawn with a bright red nose. Since it was born just that morning, it's never done anything of note, and the other animals don't really like it because it's red nose means its kind of sickly and it cant see well so they don't want to play with it."

"YES!" Chad cheered, making the connection.

"Oh, that part is right?" Ukitake perked up.

"Not even remotely, but it's amazing. They pick the fawn right?

"That's right! The saints tell Amaterasu that the Baby deer Rudolph is the one that deserves her blessing, because while all the animals here are noble and good, no good deed is better than another, and of all the animals, the sickly little deer is the one that really needs her help."

"Oh no." Ichigo whimpered from the floor. "That's actually like. genuinely heartwarming."

"Amaterasu applauds them, because they've made the right choice, and she gives the power of the star to the baby deer so it very literally glows like a headlight, and She turns the eight magical bells into a herd of deer that all have the powers the bells they were made from had, so Rudolph has a family and the three wise men have a team of nine magical deer to pull the flying sleigh she gives them, and then they are able to deliver all the presents to all the children of the world in one night, and they do it every year on Rudolph's birthday, because he was the first one to receive a proper Christmas present!" Ukitake finished, giving Chad an excitable two thumbs up.

Chad, slowly tipped forward, faintly hissing with silent laughter, then rolled off the bed to join Ichigo on the floor. Ukitake peered after him with concern, until chad slowly raised a weak, shaking hand up to give Ukitake a thumbs up back.

"-What I can't figure is how the bucket of fried chicken fits into all that?" Shunsui pondered, and the boys shrieked with laughter.

[skelly-words]

Hey! If cool I was wondering if you could write tentacle smut. I’m not too sure on the plot but wanted reader to be very much in some sort of public setting with loads of people just watching as she gets railed by a tentacle. The kinks I wanted to ask if they could be in there is Voyourism (public sex), public nudity, squirting and/ watersports and overstimulation.

If not that is totally okay! I just wanted to ask :) and am exited to see what you come up with if your comfortable with writing this

okay cool so....

Not proofread, tags in the ask + spit a lil bit, ass eating, idk futa shenanigans, ahhhh milk (i kinda scared myself w/ this at the end)

My brain immediately went to big networking conventions that businesses have where the important people from the different corporate branches come together to drink, schmooze, and brag about sales numbers to each other.

Your boss asks you to come with her to help with the demonstration. The travel expenses and hotel costs are all covered, so you agree to spend the weekend on Wall Street with her.

I hate this, but there's the slightest bit of lore, so i ECOURAGE you to read the other parts first -> masterlist

MINORS DNI, stay away 18+ only

The presentation room of the hotel caters to corporate mixers like this. Circular dinner tables decorated with charcuterie fill out the hall. Your knee bounces nervously as people begin to file in. Saturday had been boring, spent bumming around the all-inclusive spa while your boss attended other company presentations not too dissimilar from this one.

"Relax." Your boss whispers. She sits in the squeaky folding chair beside you. Her hand lands comfortably on your thigh, stilling your knee with her warm touch. "All you have to do is bend over the podium."

You nod and try to emulate her flippant attitude. The bounce returns to your knee anyway because nerves are impossible to hide. The minutes slip by as people settle into their seats. The dimming lights act as a cue to hush the small talk and side conversations.

“Ready?” She gives your thigh a heady squeeze.

“Yea, ‘m ready,” you mumble.

Her gait is steady and comfortable up to the front of the room, and you trail behind in the shelter of her shadow. You smiled unsteadily at the sea of unfamiliar faces. Your boss tapped her knuckles on the podium, clearing her throat to get the rooms attention.

“Thank you all for coming,” she begins. “My branch is testing a few new methods of increasing productivity today. It’s all based on the same principle, ‘a happy mind is profitable one.’

“Of course, we’ll begin with the demonstration, just to prove how much it’ll help you focus on the rest of the presentation.”

An interested hum sweeps through the crowd as she leads you around the front of the podium. You aren’t wearing panties, only a skirt, which immediately becomes apparent as she lifts your waist up to the podium. The sturdy wooden surface slopes slightly up toward the room, propped up for dozens of eyes ogle your bare skin.

The position makes blood rush to your head, almost dizzy from the heavy heartbeat in your ears. Your skin feels hot and sensitive. The skirt tickles, sliding down the gentle slope of your back. You wonder if they can see how wet you are, cunt aching from all the attention.

The speech sounds so far away, like all your senses are dulling to make way for the electricity running beneath your skin. From the corner of your eye, you see a couple workers wheel three tanks up to the front of the podium.

The terrariums are large and damp, too fogged up from humidity to see anything through the glass. They're pushed into a neat line, starting at your side and progressing to the front of the stage in single file. The tank closest to you is the smallest. It's the only one you can properly look into because the creatures have suctioned themselves to the wet panes. Their round bodies flatten into mounds on the glass, little mouths busily opening and closing. You watch them, mindlessly observing them inch in little circles, around and round, maybe spirals if you spent enough time staring. You shiver, imagining the pattern it could suck into your skin. From your position now, you wonder if you look anything like that mouth on the glass to that polite crowd of people.

You feel a warm hand skim over your ass, inviting your neatly pleated skirt to drape over your back completely. The gauzy brown fabric went well with your blouse, and you remember packing it for this conference a week in advance. It feels silly now, to think what you're wearing matters when it's really the demonstration that's important.

The first tank slides open with a squeak, and your boss pulls a writhing blue tentacle out with a cloud of steam following it. You can barely see what's happening in your peripheral vision and only when you turn your head to the side. She wastes no time at all, taking the companies limited resources into account, the conference room was only reserved for an hour. Her other hand traces up and down your back, nails first, to scratch gently through the layers of fabric.

"You're doing great, hun." She whispers the reassurance into your ear, low and husky so only you can hear it. In one motion, she presses the end of the tentacle into your butt. It's bigger than what you had at home, which is what you prepped for. Her hand flattens to soothing circles when the pain comes through in your groans. You quiet to a whimper as the thing flails, twisting to orient itself inside you. It still hurt, but you were adjusting quickly to the pressure in your ass as it slithers down to find your pussy.

Now, no matter how you turn, you can't see what's going on. The suckers drag against you, that much is easy to discern from the sense of touch. The rest of your senses besides that have gone totally useless, so you watch the hypnotic pattern that the specimens in the last tank trace in the condensation.

The blue tentacle pushes into you. It's fat, thick and showy so the people in the back can see. Your eyes might be crossing from the way it slowly stretches you out. A shiny blue slime drips from every pore, sucker, and gland on the thing, making you squish obscenely from every movement. In. Out. In. Out. And your boss is still talking, you can even see the slides she flicks through when your eyes roll back, but it all sounds like white noise as the monstrous size shoves into your cunt, slipping out to momentarily attach an oozing sucker to your clit. Then it squirms right back into your hole, so slick that it runs down the inside of your thighs.

It's hopeless to imagine paying attention to anything else.

"But that's when we ran into the issue of hygiene. Clearly, this doesn't fit corporate dress-code."

That cuts through your thoughts, followed by light chuckles. The second tank slides open with a thunk, and you don't have to crane as much to see the pink tentacle calmy wrap around her arm.

"Oh, f-fuck," you finally make a sound audible over the disgusting squelch of that blue monster. She's trying to press the thick bulb at the end of the pink one into you, leaning real close, almost cheek to cheek as she forces it further past your rim. A glob of spit falls from her lips, you groan as she smears it around with her tongue.

"Just relax for me." And you're not even sure she's talking to you in that raspy tone. The hand on your back has inched lower to keep you pinned in place, and it's making you sore from how the podium’s edge digs into your hips.

Your sounds fall freely now, turning to whines as she licks you to ease the stretch. The hand on your back lightens up as the fat plug slides into place alongside the blue one. An affectionate smack lands on your ass, rubbing her warm palm over the spot as she watches the pink tentacle unfurl and flatten.

You can't see it, only whine as the weight shifts and adjusts inside you. The blue tentacle stops moving as if to behave and play nice with a friend. The gummy feelers attach as the pink tentacle latches on. It cups your swollen pussy, cleaning up the appearance quite nicely to the audience's disappointment. But your moans grow louder, echoing to let you know the sound made it to the back of the room. The little fingerlings lining the pink tentacles interior are so active. They pinch at your clit, making it slip between the soft jelly limbs while the others started playing with the rest of you.

"...And when properly stimulated, this specimen can be prompted to release its reproductive material on command." That faint comment reminds you of the eggs.

Your gasp is mixed between startled and concerned when her hand begins to brush the tentacle wrapped around your crotch. Being stuffed with the twitching blue tentacle makes you wonder where all the slimy eggs will go.

At her light brushes, the tendrils start to pull you apart. They slip inside you, just barely, enough to make your legs start to shake. You can feel them start to pour in as her thumb pushes down, squeezing out the soft spawn like horrific toothpaste as she slides the digit up from the base.

The blue tentacle comes back to life now, helping push the pink jelly into your poor pussy. You can feel the tiny limbs scoop and blue suckers fuck the eggs up against your sore cervix. And still, nobody can see. Your boss stands over you. Her hand trails between your thighs, tapping in the drying slick that's become tacky. She tugs at the tip of the tentacle, pinching firmly at the pink appendage and peeling it back.

Not all the eggs made it inside, rolling down your thighs as the mess is exposed. She's slow with her reveal, trailing her fingers through the juices to try the combination. You've gotten quieter, trying to keep your whimpers silent now that it's easier to hear. She starts to pull at the plug, and you have to bite your lip to keep it down. It doesn't wanna come out of your ass, still pulsing from so recently releasing eggs. Still, she tugs, making you squirm and clench your cunt. You've been on the edge for so long, and feeling the stretch to your rim makes your thighs squeeze together. They can barely shut to rub around your throbbing clit.

"I might as well introduce the last one then." She gives up on freeing the pink tentacle with a frustrated sigh and finally steps behind the podium to reach the tank in your eyeline. "They fit perfectly under your bra, so we'll both be demonstrating."

Your eyes follow her hand, from the lid, to inside the tank, to the buttons on her shirt. You strain to look up at her because she's standing so close, watching with jealousy as that thing sucks on her nipple. Her breasts look bigger too, spilling from her bra when she tries to squish them back into her shirt. A glance back down makes you blush. A bulge starts to bubble from her pencil skirt. It wouldn't be very noticeable if it wasn't a few inches from your nose.

"My turn?" You look up at her from between watery lashes, bending to smiling crescents when she nods. She lifts your chest just enough from the podium to let the green lump latch onto you. It doesn't seem to mind being squashed against the wood when she lowers you back down. They feel good, sucking at your breasts in a perfectly alternating rhythm. You start to feel weird, hotter as your tits get sore. The mouths pinch a little, not enough to hurt, barely more than a warning bite. You groan, the throbbing in your ruined pussy is getting worse. It makes you imagine what your boss is feeling. The pre dripping into her underwear. You probably could take her cock too if she asked you. She's still giving a presentation, talking through a slide as the buttons on her dress shirt strain. Her hand slips back to your butt, where it was yanking the bigger plug out of you.

She braces the opposite hand on your asscheek, rocking the pink tentacle back and forth to coax it out. You can barely hold sound back, dissolving into pitchy breaths when the fat blue fucker decides to start up again. It starts slow, but that pace doesn't last. After packing you with eggs, it's eager to let its cum out. Every loud thrust makes the eggs probe deeper. You can feel it in your tummy, pressed flat to the uncomfortably hard podium.

Your sensitive nipples pulse in time with the relentless suckers. You can't even care to be surprised as they spurt milk, moaning instead from the toy twisting in your ass.

The pink tentacle finally slips out of you, put back in its tank where it belongs. But you're sore, hole left gaping for the blue one to fill in as it swells. It gets bigger in your pussy too, larger with each beat. Even as she talks, her fingers can't stop playing with you, either pinching at your skin or dragging a digit through your slit. Her microphone is ther only thing keeping her intelligible over your cries, strung out from the pleasure.

Her fingers swirl around your clit, so sensitive. The touch isn't any more than light nibbles on your chest, but it makes you gasp and jump against her hand. You start to cum when she twists harder. The moans inside you spill out in one cry as you squirt. The pinch to your clit makes you spurt all over the front of her clothes.

She gasps in disgust and yanks you off the podium. The flooring is carpet, soft enough for your sore ass when you slump against the sturdy wood.

Your boss brushes off the interruption like nothing, simply indicating the conclusion of the demonstration as the slides flick to a new segment. She steps carefully between your legs when walking back to her place behind the podium.

The front of your blouse is halfway unbuttoned, however much was needed to get those creatures on, and now you notice how swollen they made your tits. You whine as the blue thing keeps moving between your thighs. There's more leverage at this angle and you don't know if you should moan or cry. In a few stunted thrusts, cum starts to fill you up, thick ropes of it that still somehow leak out from between all the eggs and the fat tentacle.

The pretty blue sheen coats your inner-thighs and the conference room floor. Something’s still wrong though. The ache between your legs isn't gone, not completely no matter how much your sore body begs to stop. It's the milk, or the hormones that come with it asking for just a little more. The demonstration portion is over. You're done, everyone's supposed to be focused on the woman speaking.

You slip a hand to your clit, circling the bud with shaking fingers. Just one more, and you'll be fine. Your boss doesn't even notice the room's eyes drifting lower. The blue tentacle indulges you, lazily moving in your cunny along with a few pumps of its warm seed. You can look at the lump it makes in your stomach from this angle.

This time, the orgasm builds fast and you have to muffle soft pants against your hand as you cum. Your poor pussy hurts, but you still need another and the tight circles on your clit don't let up.

There can't be that much more time before the hour is up and she has to get these things off you. Yet, your wrist is getting sore and weak dribbles of piss leak out of you at each peak. You notice people in the crowd hiding their arousal, and that somehow makes your crazy mind even hornier. Your abused clitty gives a heartbeat to your thumb each time someone palms their crotch or crosses their legs, still trying to be politely discreet.

The lights brighten as the presentation ends and a few odd bursts of scattered applause break out at a few tables. You still don't have the decency to leave your needy cunt alone, finally closing your legs around the blue tendril still curled up inside you as the people leave the room to pick a brochure up.

I had another anon ask abt going to find a new tentacle with the coworker from pt.2, but I kinda decided they were aliens (pink and blue both would normally use a host for mating and the suckers kinda do the same thing but for food, ig they're all just parasites sorry if that's gross), so i added a new variety into this one for you <3

A/N- how'd she do that? i would've gone ngh~ *squish* IMMEDIATLY, sry can you tell idk anything about an office job? oh well, stfu and enjoy the smut then (this is way over the top 😭) Also why did i give myself the displeasure of two (2) unnamed characters, give me names for Ms. boss or i'll start adding y/n (a threat)

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: i feel so good from the traction I got from the last post 🥹 y'all r angels. here's the part 2 you were looking for, boo! @avoidthings 💗

JADED | AARON PIERRE

Part 2.

Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions of but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on, orgasm denial), extreme language (cursing, use of n-word, use of b-word), talking you through it. lil bit of exhibitionism if you squint, mild daddy k!nk.

summary: in which you decide to end the toxic situation-ship you share with Terry— except this man only know how to suck you back in.

baby, we can fuck inside my truck, shit wide body.

knew i'd be hurt to see if you leave, but god got me.

Choked out heavy sighs slipped past your lips as you lay in the backseat, just how he liked you; folded up. He had your meaty thighs pinned back, your arms wrapped around them comfortably, holding yourself open for Terry. He'd just got you back there, in that position and he was already inside of you. Gazing down at you with soft eyes, he said nothing at first, his thumb and pointer finger lazily pulling and pinching at your already sensitive buds.

His fingers continued tweak with your nipples, manipulating them anyway he seen fit as his short, hypnotizing strokes seemed to get deeper, fester, mind dizzying. "Oh my god, daddy!" You whined, eyes going crossed as he found that spot again. That same spot his fingers were so easy to find, his dick had no problem as well. Stars danced behind your eyes as you zoned in on that pleasure, face beautifully frowned as you held onto your thighs tightly, acrylic nails digging into your own flesh. You felt everything, from him tweaking with your nipples down to the slight burn from how he stretched you. You were wet, he had you so wet, the slick sounds of your pussy filled the car, lewd and loud.

Terry nodded above you, eyes trained on you, face stoic, as if fucking you on a Thursday night in the parking lot of an apartment complex was a normality at this point. "Yeah, you feel that shit baby?" He mumbled pulling his left hand from your nipple and using his thumb to rub your clit in quick lazy circles, the squelching and gushing sounds of your pussy didn't do anything to help out how incredibly brainless you'd felt already. "Mm-mm," he hummed abruptly pulling his right hand down away from your nipple slapping his hand against your cheek firmly, "bring yo' ass back here. Ain't no zonin' out, bitch. Come back'ere."

The slaps seemed to bring you back, just barely, but it didn't dull the overwhelming amount of pleasure you were experiencing. Your breath seemed to hitch in your throat, you wanted to moan, you wanted to scream but everything was too good in this moment. Terry seemed to not take notice of this, or simply not care because this didn't deter him from his already breath shattering strokes, instead he placed his left hand on the back of your thigh, pushing down, steadying himself on his knees as he plowed down into you. The sound of his thighs clapping steadily against your ass was enough to draw the breaths out of you. He was bottoming out. He had to feel how you clenched and creamed around him, he had to know he was damn near touching your stomach.

"Shit!" You squealed out, hands abruptly shooting out to press back against his thighs, deter him a little, get him to show you some kind of mercy. Your head was mere centimeters from slamming against the door handle.

His right hand slid from your cheek around to the back of your neck until you could feel his fingers tangling in the root of your curls at the back of your head, bringing your head forward to watch his lewd deep strokes. "Look at that shit, look at the mess that pussy makin' on my dick," he spoke through heavy breaths, his own soft groans following, "sayin' you don't miss daddy, that pussy missed me plenty though." You faintly followed the scene as your own moans drowned out the rest of his dirty words. You had him covered in cream, pussy squelching and queefing with every following stroke.

The trembling in your legs only seemed to intensify as he continued his assault on your pussy. "Daddy!" You huffed through a moan, eyes lowered and brows furrowed together you looked up at the man above you, his expression mirroring yours almost mocking. "I know you feel that!" You gasped the tightening in your stomach bubbling to the surface once again. He had you on the brink for the second time that night. He groaned in response to that, how your pussy had started to clench around him, gripping him, sucking him in.

"I feel it, baby," he cooed, fingers still tangled in your unruly curls he leaned down peppering sloppy kisses against the corner of your agape mouth, "daddy feel that pussy squeezin' me, good ass pussy." He commented breathlessly, a deep growl from his throat following, only earning more drawn out moans from you.

"You wanna cum for daddy?" He asked you, lips pressed against your ear. "I feel that shit in yo' legs you wanna cum." He teased feeling you nod vigorously against his face. "Yeah, you do baby," he hummed softly, "but you bet not cum."

You whined as his strokes didn't relent. He had denied you for the second time that night. You better not cum, yet he kept fucking you like he wanted you to. Like he dared you. You couldn't keep holding it, the pleasure was too overwhelming. He was digging as deep as he could've gotten in you. Everything he gathered from you, was messily painted on his dick.

"Fuck!" A deep groan came from your tummy, tumbling out of your mouth in a curse. Your eyes had rolled back once again, as he fucked you stupid. Your mouth hung open as he continued slamming into you, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix so tenderly. "I–I can't keep holdin it!" You stammered, voice slurred and high pitched.

Terry groaned in response, cursing quietly about how tightly you gripped him. "You can," he audibly responded, "just like you can take yo' ass on them dates." He stopped momentarily and earning a needy and eager whine from you. He sat up on his knees, dick still deliciously deep inside of you, he untangled his hand from your frizzy curls and instead fisting your rolled up tank top in his hand for leverage as he fucked himself into you once more. His free hand managed to find itself around your neck, squeezing firmly enough to make you gasp, just a little bit.

It wasn't like you could breathe anyway, there he was fucking the breath out of you once again. Your eyes watery as you held eye contact with him once again, your toes curled into a ball, mouth still agape, drool pooling there. You were fucked out, just how he liked you. Dumb and needy. The sight alone was enough to bring him closer to his nut. But he could never get his before you got yours. Taking care of his bitch was always his number one priority. He prided himself on making sure you got off first.

"Goin' out with them lame ass niggas, makin' them think they got a chance to fuck my bitch," he breathlessly mumbled to you, the sounds of your skin clapping together almost drowning the side of his deep, quiet voice.

"No!" Was the only thing you could force out, the tears brewing in your eyes finally spilling at once. You didn't know why you said no, were you letting him know them niggas never had a chance or were you tryna stop yourself from cumming all over his dick like how you wanted to, so badly.

It seemed to do the job for both.

"I know baby," he nodded curtly, "i know you daddy's bitch. I know you belong to me. Look at that pussy, wanna cum so bad. You wanna cum so bad, don't you pretty girl?"

"So pretty when you all fucked up and fucked out."

You nodded vigorously you were past the point of pleasure, you were somewhere floating, you couldn't feel solid ground beneath you if you wanted to. Words were no longer an option for you, he'd stole them many strokes ago.

"Yeah?" He moaned in response, hand squeezing firmer around your neck. "Cum on my dick baby, let me feel that shit. Don't hold back, give me all that shit."

That was all it took for a high pitched scream to come rumbling from your stomach, your eyes found themselves how they loved to be when he was inside of you; crossed. Your hands left your thighs, palms slamming flat against the seat beneath you, your nails scratching against the material. You saw colors you couldn't describe, the tension in your stomach seemingly dispersing right on que. this feeling was lightheaded, unsteady, but so so good.

But he continued on his own journey. Still fucking into you like his life depended on it. Grunting, groaning as he continued to chase his own high, the way you gripped and clenched around him as he fucked you through your orgasm was mind numbing to him. Your shit was way too good. Too good to be free. And if the sight of you getting fucked through your orgasm wasn't enough to get him to fill you up, your broken moans and whimpers sure were enough.

You couldn't take much more of this, pussy thumping as he continued to fuck you. You were completely overstimulated, coming him to cum as best as you could through your shaky, broken dialogue. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted repeatedly, a serious if growls and groans rumbling from deep within in his chest spilling out as he rutted into you, he was there. You were too gone in your own head when he finally did fill you up. And fill you up he did. You couldn't hear him when he pulled out either, the only thing you did react to was the soft kisses he delivered to you afterwards.

"Push that shit out, baby, let me see it." He cooed to you, his large hands holding your thighs in place, you whimpered but obliged to what he said anyways, gently pushing out what he dumped into you moments earlier. "You such a nasty bitch," he murmured in a trance like state watching his seed leak out of you, peppering sweet, gentle kisses where he could on your face, contrary to the merciless strokes he was just giving to you.

The next few moments you took to try and steady yourself, bring you back to earth somehow. This nigga had fucked you into another dimension you were convinced. You were able to ground yourself once he got out, searching the bed of the pickup to find something to clean you up with.

You sighed once you were able to come back to, chest heaving, hair unruly, and your panties and shorts strewn about his truck. I'm such a dumb bitch.



-

feral for mr. pierre. second part of many fics of him to come 😭 xx.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Could I get a yandere meruem x reader on her period? Tyy <3

Prized Possession(NSFW)

Yandere!Meruem x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: I wasn’t sure exactly what you wanted so I did a lil nsfw fic, but if you want something SFW/headcanons/etc then please feel free to send another request with specification ^^

warnings: fingering, pussy eating, dubcon, public sex, period sex, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, Pitou treats you like their queen and pampers you, Meruem is HORNY, obsessive and possessive behavior

Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @highbats69 @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart

If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information in my pinned post then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!

It had been two days since Meruem had tightened the metaphorical collar around your neck, keeping you stationed on his lap at all times of the day. His nose stayed buried in your neck, and despite your cries to at least do it behind close doors, his fingers stayed buried in your pussy, lightly pumping into you.

“Shh, shh, my princess. This is for your own good, so don’t complain.”

He curled his fingers in your cunt, pressing down on your abdomen and humming lightly. “Soon… I can smell it.”

Meruem had never been the type to keep you too far out of his reach, but lately his version of love had been absolutely smothering. It wasn’t always revolved around sex, sometimes he would force you into the little nest of blankets and pillows he built for you, or hold you so tight you’d have to remind him of his strength while gasping for air.

He couldn’t stop purring as he ran his hand over your abdomen, continuing to say how “close it was”. You didn’t even want to know what he was talking about, but by the way you started to feel kind of icky and tired, you were beginning to understand.

And you were terrified.

Now, you liked Meruem. He wasn’t as cruel as others made him out to be, and he sure did have quite the soft spot for you, but he still was an inhuman monster that ate humans. And because of his inhumanity, his knowledge of the human body was limited, besides what he read from medical text books and the own way his semi-human instincts reacted to the changes in your hormones.

And that’s how you found yourself being awoken in the middle of the night to Meruem lapping at your cunt, a dull ache in your abdomen.

“Ugh… Meruem…”

He glanced up, his hands on your thighs. “My princess… did I disturb your sleep?”

Although his words sounded sweet, there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. If he wanted you to stay asleep, he could have made sure you did, but instead he decided to gently push at your abdomen as he continued to gorge on your pussy.

It was then you noticed the red on his mouth, and fit a fleeting second you feared the pain you were experiencing was due to him LITERALLY eating your pussy.

But no, it wasn’t anything like that. With another soft push on your abdomen, you watched as blood dribbled into his mouth.

“I knew it was close… how I’ve waited for this time of the month…”

You whined in embarrassment and pleasure, gripping the sheets as you felt his tongue push into your sensitive pussy. “P-please… too much…”

He didn’t stop, and you knew better than to push him away or complain too much. Meruem would never hurt you in anyway, but you knew that no amount of pushing or complaining would make him stop. It would just make him purr and push harder, just enough to put you on the edge of pain and pleasure. A vague discomfort, but not enough to hurt.

So instead of pushing or whining, you whimpered softly, gently stroking his face. He quite enjoyed that, his eyes narrowing in contentment. “Such a good girl… there you go, almost there…”

Meruem took great pride in his ability to make you cum within minutes of being between your legs. He was a natural from the beginning. Of course he was, he was king.

He stayed there, between your legs for what seemed like hours, each orgasm helping to relive the ache in your abdomen. Once he was thoroughly satisfied, he moved up to your face, rutting his hips against yours.

At this point he looked almost feral, his eyes peering down at you as his thick cock rested on your belly. He rubbed it against you, growling as he lowered his blood stained face to yours.

“Kiss me.”

It was only a for a second, but your hesitation caused him to growl lowly. “I won’t repeat myself.”

He gripped your chin, squeezing just enough to make you uncomfortable. You whimpered softly as you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his.

As soon as Meruem felt the touch of your lips, he relaxed. It wasn’t long before you felt his cock prodding at your pussy, and his tongue prodding at your lip.

You really didn’t want to taste your own blood, but you also didn’t want to be scolded, so you obediently opened your lips, just as his cock sank into your bloody cunt.

He allowed you to whine, for your nails to scratch his back as he began to fuck into you. Meruem had the power to stop you whenever he wanted, but he didn’t. How kind he was to you, how lenient he was with his little pet.

“Shh… be a good pet and take it.”

Meruem preferred to be as close to you as possible when fucking you. His instincts told him to keep you pinned down and still, to breed you when he started smelling the sweet pheromones of your menstrual cycle.

Nights like this were exhausting. He needed you so badly, his brain filled with the need to breed you until your belly was heavy with his seed. It didn’t help that you were crying out and moaning beneath him in this sensitive state of yours.

How he loved the sounds you made, the cries and whimpers, the moans and whines. You really were his little princess, the perfect pet to play with in his spare time.

But… at the same time, you were much more than that. When the royal guard suggested he start spreading his seed among the many human women at his disposal, he became angry and almost… guilty. He didn’t want to impregnate some woman he didn’t know, he wanted you and you alone.

Perhaps he did love you. He had read many books, some being novels on romance. Meruem didn’t really understand it at first, but after meeting you he just couldn’t get you out of his head. It was an unhealthy obsession, you were supposed to be a way to waste away his spare time, but now he was beyond attached.

As he filled your womb once again with his cum, he placed a hand over your belly. “My little mate… yes, that’s what you are, my mate…”

He lightly traced circles in your belly with his finger, his eyes soft. The urge to mark you and cover you in his scent was overwhelming. He felt so possessive over you, even though you only interacted with his Royal Guards, he still felt the need to make sure everyone knew you were his.

As your blood soaked into the soft sheets of your shared bed, he finally pulled out, humming softly. “Pitou.”

They were by his side in seconds, not reacting at all to the scene in front of them. Meruem pulled you into his lap, petting you as if you were his exhausted puppy, rather than the woman he deemed his mate.

“Bathe her, dress her, then feed her.”

Without hesitation, they nodded. “Yes, King Meruem.”

You whined softly as Pitou carried you in their arms. One hand was on the soft curve of your ass, and the other was in your hair, soothing you softly. You were their queen, someone Meruem ordered they worship just as much as they worshipped him, so they did just that.

“My queen, I see you’ve come into heat.”

Pitou set you by the bathtub, filling it up with warm water as they used a rag to wipe away the blood from your thighs. After all the access blood was gone, they placed you in the warm water. “Heat..? I guess… that’s what you would call it.”

You relaxed as Pitou washed your body, their hands grazing your soft breasts and thighs. “It seems King Meruem has successfully bred you. It’s an honor to bear the King’s young.”

You watched as Pitou caressed your belly, right over your womb. You weren’t sure how they would know you were pregnant, surely there was no way you were already. “The King’s semen is potent, you’ll be with child soon.”

Ah, that explained it. They just assumed since you and Meruem had sex, that there was no way you weren’t pregnant. You’d laid with Meruem several times before, but this time… he was really adamant about filling you up.

Pitou rinsed you before scooping you up as if you were just a kitten. They dried you off, grabbing a pair of panties for you with the pad already applied. It was a bit humiliating how much the royal guards babies you, but you couldn’t do much about it. Once you were dressed, Pitou purred softly, butting their head against your hand.

Meruem didn’t allow for much affection, but you did. You smelled so much like him, and as the queen you were the second best, and the only one other than Meruem that Pitou would be so docile for. “Mmph, my queen…”

You let them carry you back to your chambers, where Pouf and Youpi were waiting with a meal, prepared just for you. Meruem sat on your now freshly cleaned bed, reading a book. He looked up for only a second, giving you a knowing smile.

“Eat, you need your energy. You’re losing blood, so it’s iron rich.”

You sat down, Pitou laying their head in your lap as you ate. You were surprised at how lenient Meruem was with Pitou, but the ant just saw Pitou as nothing more than your pet, and his servant. The cat like ant purred and mewed softly as you petted their head. It was a bit strange, but it was the only physical contact you got outside of Meruem. The other two royal guards didn’t seem to like you as much, more like they put up with your presence to keep their king happy.

After you finished your meal, Meruem set his book down. “Come.”

Pitou set up immediately so you could follow Meruem’s orders. You stood, wobbling slightly, causing Pitou to shoot up and accompany you. They acted like a mama cat, grooming your hair as they guided you to Meruem’s side.

Pitou set you down, the kneeled next to Meruem as he pulled you into his lap. “Sleep, you need rest. Do not think this was the only breeding session, this process will happen until your heat is over.”

You knew that Meruem was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn’t a liar, and he didn’t over exaggerate. If he said you needed rest, you would.

You slid your hair on his chest, closing your eyes as he ran his hand over your hair.

You weren’t looking forward to this week at all.

[ohthewh0rror]

I’VE DUG TWO GRAVES FOR US, MY DEAR.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — “Can I request Tom riddle x (fem!) reader angst? Basically, they have been trying for a long time to have children, but haven’t succeeded. So, to have an heir, Tom gets Bellatrix pregnant and obviously hasn’t told reader. Reader finds out shes pregnant and goes to tell Tom and show him the pregnancy test, but right outside his study she hears him ask Bellatrix „how is my heir doing? Is my child healthy?“ and reader drops the test in front of his study, where Tom finds it later, and leaves.”

Part 2

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: “but baaaabe, she doesn’t even mean anything to me” and for him he MEANS it, that’s the worst part. Oh god I’m going to be sick. I headcanon him as loyal and now he’s out here embarrassing me. Anyway, thank you to my best friend Madie for helping me choose the right ending for this and for proof-reading for me. To the requester: I didn’t take the suicide route bc that’s a very sensitive topic that I have personal ties to. But yeah, if anyone wants it I’m 100% down to write a part 2 to this.🖤🖤

You felt wrong.

Well, not exactly you, just something felt wrong. You felt on edge, tense, like you were just waiting for the galleon to drop. There was no explanation for the way you were feeling, at least not one you could think of. But you couldn’t help but feel on edge, your mind racing as you resisted the urge to continuously look over your shoulder throughout the day.

You had hoped that the feeling would be gone by the end of the day, but as you sat with Tom having dinner the feeling was still there. You wanted to hide it from him, but you just knew he could see the slight shake of your hand as you poked mindlessly with your fork at the food in front of you. Though, either out of courtesy to you or him just not wanting to deal with it at the moment, he didn’t ask.

No, it wouldn’t be until the two of you had gotten into bed for the night that he would.

As you settled into bed, you felt Tom’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. While you would normally welcome this, as it was rare that Tom would hold you in such a way, the unusual action added to your sense of unease. You felt his lips press a kiss just behind your ear before he asked, “there’s something bothering you, what is it?”

You didn’t know how to tell him, or if you even wanted to tell him. You didn’t want Tom to think negatively of you, to think you were officially losing it, but a part of you knew Tom wasn’t going to drop it. What Tom wanted, Tom got, one way or another. So, reluctantly, you told him.

“I’m not sure, I just don’t feel right, not in a sick way but—,” you paused, mentally kicking yourself for admitting it out loud, “I feel as if something bad is about to happen, something very bad.” Tom said nothing, but you could feel his hold on you tighten just a fraction. There was a few seconds of silence before Tom finally spoke again, “I see, I’m sure you are alright, you probably just need to rest.”

You know this was his way of comforting you, but it did nothing to help how you felt. You tried taking his words to heart though, and forced yourself to relax, attempting to get some sleep.

6:23 am.

You stared at the ticking hands of the clock on the wall, watching them dutifully count the time, hoping the dullness of it all would help you fall back asleep. It did nothing to help you, though, and instead just aided in helping your mind wander. You went through every possibility, until you were left with two options.

Tom was up to something… or you were pregnant. You didn’t want to think of the first option, it was a thought that left you upset even considering, but he had been distant for the past 4 months. He did not treat you any different, but he seemed… distracted. Where he once did not mind if you opened his letters for him, he now tightly guarded them. You tried asking him why, but he said it was to protect you if things went bad. He attempted to explain your worries away, saying he did not want you implicated in anything he was up to.

Not to mention he was out the house more— Death Eater business, he tells you. Always that. It almost made you angry how much time he spent working towards his grand scheme when all you wanted was just some of his time. At first you tried to push back on it, but soon realized it did nothing to sway him. Tom did what he wanted, regardless of the feelings of others.

Despite all this you refuse to accept Tom may be up to something behind your back. He was your husband, and he loved you, even if he did not express it often. So that left you with one conclusion: you’re pregnant.

It was a possibility that had been hanging in the back of your mind, but not one you wanted to genuinely entertain. After years of trying and it being false alarms have left you with nothing but negative feelings towards the process of finding out. You did not want to get your hopes up once again, as each negative was becoming more and more unbearable.

You couldn’t just rule it out without taking a test though, so you had no choice but to do so. Not wanting to go to a healer and have them check on you magically, you decided to instead go about it the muggle way. You had heard during your younger years, while at Hogwarts, that muggle women had measures of finding out on their own in the comfort of their own bathroom. So that’s what you set off to do, after getting dressed of course.

Entering muggle London, it was hard not to stick out. While you tried to dress as casual as you possibly could, you knew there was still something off about how you dressed. No one seemed to mind though, letting you walk through the busy streets without much more than a double take. It didn’t take long for you to find what looked like a small store, you hoped to Merlin that they had what you needed.

As you walked around the small shop, you realized what you were doing was beyond ridiculous. You were truly out of your league as you browsed the aisles looking for what you needed. You were beginning to get frustrated when you heard a feminine voice from the left, “excuse me, miss, can I help you find something?”

You paused, stopping midstep, turning your head to look at who was speaking to you.

The girl, who couldn’t have been any older than 19, seemed to be a shop attendant. She had on what you could only guess was typical muggle attire, and a vest with the name of the shop on it. You nodded, “yes, I need the test that will tell me if I’m pregnant or not.”

The shop girl gave you a look, and you began to worry more that you were sticking out far too much. “You mean a pregnancy test?” She asked. “Yes, that,” you replied, hoping she would just show you where it was and stop talking to you. Thankfully she seemed to have read your mind, gesturing you to follow her. She took you to the aisle furthest back in the store, pointing out the shelf that was filled with a dozen different options. You thanked her, and she left you alone with all the different tests.

Looking over them all you picked the one you thought would be best, but as you held the test you had a revelation, ‘I have no muggle money’. You froze, now weighing your options. You could leave and convert the money, coming back at a later time, or you could just…take it. Leaving was the morally correct choice, but just taking it was the more tempting one as it would save you the trouble of explaining to Tom why you needed muggle money if word got back to him.

So, looking around and making sure no eyes were on you, you silently cast a spell, hiding the box from any prying eyes. As you walked out the store you couldn’t believe what you had done. Stealing? From a muggle establishment? How scandalous! As you walked down the street you shook your head, banishing the thought from your mind. You didn’t have time to worry about the ethics of stealing from muggles. You needed to know if you were pregnant.

Thankfully, it was a little easier to find a place to use the restroom. You sat on the toilet, reading the box, and the instructions seemed easy enough. You followed them exactly before capping the test, holding it in a way where the results faced away from you. You didn’t want to see the results, too scared of it being negative once again. After what you considered an appropriate amount of time, you flipped the test over.

Positive.

‘It’s wrong, it has to be,’ you thought to yourself as you eyed the muggle pregnancy test. The test was wrong, it’s a defective muggle device. You’d make an appointment with the healer as soon as possible until you could confirm it for sure and you’d keep it a secret from Tom until then. You didn’t want to tell him, only for it to be a false positive and get his hopes up fruitlessly.

So, you wrapped the test tightly and tossed it in the bin. Washing your hands, you made your way out of the muggle establishment, and to an empty corner before apparating to the edge of yours and Tom’s property. You stood there for a moment, taking in the site of your shared home, wishing you had some calming draught on hand.

You knew as soon as Tom saw you he’d know something was wrong. Tom had always said you weren’t a very good liar, and you knew with the state you were in right now that if he tried to pry your secret would come tumbling out before you had the chance to stop it.

You couldn’t stand out here all day though, the November air was more than chilly, and you were going to freeze if you didn’t go in soon. You took a steadying breath and walked forward with your head held high, taking your time to get to the doors, attempting to look casual. You were halfway up the set of stone stairs leading up to the front doors, when they began to open. For a split second you felt yourself panic on the inside, thinking maybe it was Tom who came to greet you, until your house elf Poppy came into view.

“Welcome back, madam,” the little elf said, ushering you in.

“Hello, Poppy,” you said. You had never been happier to see a house elf in your life. As Poppy shut the doors behind you, and she ushered you to the dining room, she informed you that Tom had already left for the day, leaving you to have breakfast alone. Normally that would have left you disappointed, you and Tom made sure to always eat breakfast and dinner together, and this would be the first time in a long time that you ate alone. But, after the morning you had, you relished in the absence of conversation.

“Poppy, please make an appointment for me with a healer,” you asked, sitting down at the dining table. Poppy nodded wordlessly before leaving you to go make the appointment.

It was a week later that you found yourself sitting in a sterile room, awaiting the results. You wanted so desperately for it to be true. You’d never recover if you found out the test had lied. Tom still didn’t know about the possibility of your pregnancy, but then again, it wasn’t hard to hide it from him with how busy he’d been this past week. And seeing as your mind was preoccupied, you hadn’t pushed on what had him so busy.

Just as your mind began to drift from boy names, to more feminine names, the door to your right clicked open. The healer gave you a bright smile, greeting you. The forced politeness left a bad taste in your mouth as you just wished for the results so you could get home. You gave a tight-lipped smile back, and a similar greeting. The healer stopped in front of you, flipping one of the papers up, quickly reading its contents before looking at you once again.

“Well, Mrs. Riddle, it seems you certainly are pregnant!” He congratulates you, before explaining how far along you seem to be and that he needs you back in a month. You’re still in a daze when he hands you the paperwork, telling you your diagnosis and other information regarding your pregnancy. It feels too good to be true, and you’re not sure if you should laugh, cry, or do both as you leave the office.

You’re pregnant. You’re actually pregnant. You walk down a secluded alley, casting the muffliato charm as you buried your head in your hard, a soft cry erupting from you. You both had tried so hard for so long and it’s finally happening, you are finally having the child you both wanted. You let yourself cry from the overwhelming feeling of happiness for a moment longer before collecting yourself. You needed to tell Tom, you knew this was just the news he needed.

Tom was working from home today, something you had never been so happy about before today. It made the process of talking to him much easier than if he left to Merlin-knows-where to do what he needed. But, as you walked up those stairs to the hallway that his office was down you felt your heart plummet.

Tom was here, but so was another woman.

You quieted your steps, hoping to figure out who the woman was and what they were talking about. It was difficult as the door was mostly shut and they were talking in hushed tones. But, as you stepped off the stairs and into the hallway you recognized the voice of the woman immediately.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

A woman that you held more than just disdain for. She is the only female Death Eater Tom has recruited, and not only that, she was his second in command. While Tom didn’t see any of his Death Eaters as true equals, even you knew he seemed to favor her over the rest of them. Bellatrix seemed to revel in this fact, and despite being married herself, her loyalty seemed to lay more with your husband than her own. She did whatever Tom asked, no matter what it may be, without even a hint of resistance. You truly believe if Tom asked her to kill herself, she would do it without hesitation.

As you walked closer to the door they seemed to have stopped talking, but before you could knock and let yourself be known, you heard something that knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“You had a check-up last week, did you not? How is my heir?” Tom sounded casual, as if he was asking Bellatrix about the weather. His heir? His heir? Your mind was sent reeling as you began to hyperventilate. You quietly backed away from the door, walking as silently but also as quickly as you could away. But, as you turned to leave you nearly tripped over your own two feet, the papers you were holding falling to the ground. In your distress you left them, not being bothered to pick them up, as you caught yourself and hurried down the hallway intent on putting space between yourself and the cracked office door.

You found yourself in a guest room on the other side of the house, away from Tom and Bellatrix, away from the source of your heartbreak. You sit on the edge of the bed, and cast the muffliato charm for the second time today. After you cast the spell, you finally let yourself feel completely. Your heart shatters into tiny crystallized bits, the shards of it dig into every crevice of your sternum, leaving you clutching at your chest as it pierces your lungs and esophagus. Your chest and throat have an indescribable ache as a piercing wail leaves you, the pain of his betrayal leaving you feeling something beyond devastation.

The knowledge that he cheated on you was painful enough, but the fact that it was Bellatrix made it all the more painful. He knew how you felt toward their dynamic and his trust in her. It was as if he chose her on purpose, to tell her that Bellatrix is a more suitable partner for him.

How Bellatrix was everything she wasn’t: unwaveringly devoted to him, believed in his pureblood ideology, and stood by him on it. Bellatrix could also give him children, and she couldn’t.

Or so he thought. He didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Maybe that was for the best, you considered, as you sat in that empty room, fingers wringing together painfully as you tried to calm yourself. As you attempted to gather yourself, knocking on the door began to reverberate throughout the room, causing a panic inside you. You cleared your throat, and took in a breath, hoping to gather yourself before addressing who was on the other side. Lifting your wand you released the muffling charm, “come in.”

Your voice still wobbled as the words left you, leaving you mentally kicking yourself. The door opened, revealing Tom, on the other side. As he took in the sight of you, sniffling and teary-eyed, he walked in completely, softly shutting the door behind him. Looking at him sent a surge of anguish through you, a new wave of tears gathering in your eyes. The vision of Tom doubled as your lips began to wobble as you held back your tears. You were unable to see the look on Tom’s face as you looked away, trying to calm yourself once again, so you weren’t quite sure what he was thinking.

Getting on one knee before you, Tom placed his left hand on your knee as his right reached up, wiping at your tear streaked face. You let out a shuddering breath, finally looking at him. Tom’s face was the most expressive you’d ever seen it, if you hadn’t been in such a miserable state you would have taken a moment to admire it.

There was a look of genuine worry on his face as the both of you looked at each other. The silence was suffocating, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be the one to break it. There was nothing you wanted to say to him, you could hardly bear to look at him, much less talk to him.

“Why are you upset, darling? This is wonderful news” Tom sounded sympathetic in his attempt to comfort you. You let out a laugh in disbelief, you could not believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Wonderful news? In what world is this ‘wonderful news’?” You were close to yelling by the time you finished talking, feeling your sadness morph into something far uglier: anger. Tom at least had the decency to look taken aback, seeming to not expect the response he received.

Tom’s eyes searched yours for a moment before his expression became guarded, he gave your hand a squeeze before standing up, “it seems we are talking about two different things.”

You said nothing, there was nothing you could say that he hadn’t just deduced for himself, and it seemed he knew that too as he continued speaking.

“Y/N, you have to understand, I needed to ensure I had an heir and we hadn’t been successful in getting you pregnant,” Tom tried to explain. You’re sure in his head that this was logical, just the rational choice to get around your fertility issues. But to you, this was anything but the best next step. There was no reasoning good enough to make this okay; it will never be okay. This is a wound that may scar over, but will always ache when brushed against.

“You had an affair with a woman who I already voiced my concern about, without even consulting me on your decision, and expect me to understand?” You asked, incredulously. Tom, though looking mildly annoyed, still had the decency to also seem a touch guilty. “I didn’t step out of our marriage for pleasure or some sort of validation, you've always been the only one for me, it was merely to—” you decide to cut him off. “Produce an heir,” was all you said, finishing his sentence for him.

A heavy silence hung in the air, what you said leaving a palpable bitterness in the air. Tom still had the same touch of guilt in his eyes, but it wasn't enough. The guilt wasn’t strong enough to let him take full accountability for how wrong he was. Tom reached out, his hands cupping the back of your neck as his thumbs grazed your jawline, forcing you to look at him.

“It will be okay, I made a mistake by not telling you my plans, I apologize,” Tom may have sounded sincere, but it wasn’t good enough. Nothing will ever make up for what he has done to not only your relationship, but also to your trust in him. You reached up, and gently removed his hands from your face before standing up yourself, forcing him to take a few steps back.

“No, it’s not going to be okay; it will never be ‘okay’. You didn’t just make a mistake, you ruined our marriage, and for that, Tom, I hate you.”

And you left.

Leaving your husband to stand in that spare room, alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company.

[drdemonprince]

I was afraid of using drugs for the majority of my life, and before testosterone was too physically sensitive to ever properly achieve an altered state on any substance, even alcohol.

In the last few years I have experimented a bit more with drugs. And I can't really determine whether it has been "good" for me, because how would I even evaluate that? It hasn't made me more productive, but I don't care about improving my productivity. It hasn't made me happier, but I think pursuing happiness is a foolish and unachievable goal. It has occasionally given me the illusion of a new insight, but I've always been highly cerebral and inwardly focused so at the most it's only hasted me making some realization I was bound to discover anyway.

But using substances has given me new aspects of inner experience, and it has been interesting. I am a writer first and foremost and my (entirely self-determined) purpose in life is to find things interesting, to observe and experience things, and make meaning of them, and to synthesize those influences into the art that I make. And I do consider it art, not science, not scholarship, but a form of creative expression and exploration. I never forget that the word "essay" means only "to attempt." I am a trier, and explorer, ultimately.

And to that end, I can view my life as worthwhile and the decisions that I make as acceptable, regardless of whether they make me a better person or a worse one, and despite my characteristic unhappiness and fault-findingness, because no matter what happens to me or how I feel about it, I can always at least choose to find things interesting. Drug use is one thing that I have found passably interesting and novel, from time to time.

Repeated, heavy, compulsive drug use can lead one into some truly boring lifestyles and places, from what I have observed, and that's somewhat the problem with unrelenting hedonism too: it gets dull. But nothing motivates me quite like being interested, and trying new things, and drugs are just one relatively more recent element of that, for me.

[twst-drabbles]

Meleanor 1

Summary: You do not understand this egg's mother. On multiple occasions, with words or with silence, she has made her hatred towards humans clear. And yet, here she is with her egg in her arms.

(Ough, spent most of the day transferring my stuff to another writing program because my brain refuses to engage with the current one. Hopefully this one will be better for me. The interface is something I'm used to, at least. Also more time travel shenanigans because why not?)

When a guest is invited–or at least, allowed over by the pixies–the cluster of bells by your lattice windows would ring cleanly through the house, then would glow depending on how many guests there were. And if there was no guest but someone was coming anyway, all bells would ring at the same time and glow a sickly green.

It was a nice, a way to distinguish guest from intruder.

Only one ball bell glowed in this instance, a calm gold, but another one was hesitating, almost flickering in it's attempt to shine.

It was weird, until you saw the vine curtain pull back to reveal that faerie noble woman Meleanor with a huge egg in tow. Her smile, while clearly crafted from years of experience, did not fool you. You can feel the way her eyes regard you as a crawling, invasive bug.

"Hmm," was all the greetings you could muster out, because you didn't expect her to come here, nor did you want her here, but the egg was a pleasant surprise. It cancels out your need to give a dismissive/rude greeting into a neutral noise.

Meleanor, however, turned her eyes back to her egg. Her smile grew smaller, but gentler, as she rubbed her thumb over the raised grooves and ridges over the shell.

"Was that all you needed? You spoiled boy of mine. But fret not, I'll give you everything that you want, even if it means robbing the night sky of its every star just to give them to you."

It's… weird, knowing that Malleus was inside that very egg that Meleanor was so tenderly caressing. A growing fetus, alive and well, beating with a very tiny heart.

…oh right, you're supposed to receive this guest on behalf of the pixies. They can't do it themselves, on the account of how dense and volatile her magic is. Such sensitivity tends to make them agitated or fearful. And you, being a dull human with no magic sense whatsoever, would have to take the reigns.

"Sit wherever you like," you gestured to the whole scope of the room.

"And who gave you permission to speak, to gaze upon me?" She didn't so much as look at you, keeping her gaze upon her child, still so filled with fondness and love.

This song and dance again… Ugh, you're going to be so exhausted by the end of the day.

"A host that cannot gaze or speak with the guest is a negligent one," Meleanor not looking at you was a sign that she's not truly angry. She's just trying to mess with you in the way all faeries love to do. "You know this."

A prank to them, a danger to you. You fall for it or falter, and she will relish in punishing you however she sees fit. You're just lucky you have a good sense of when you're in danger or not.

"Haha," Meleanor lifted her head to laugh, mildly amused, "A host now, is it? Your manners are well-trained in you, for a human. Any less and I would have had you replaced. Surely the pixies will find another creature to attach themselves to."

"That's if they don't gather up their things and leave for other places," you dragged a chair and kicked back on it, "You would lose your stable seasons if you were to 'replace' me on your own whims."

Human etiquette in you tells you to go into the kitchen and make a drink or a snack. Faerie etiquette, however, told you to wait and quietly listen. You can't assume a request of a faerie guest. You could easily be accused of arrogance.

But, instead of requesting for anything or attempting to stab you with her sharp words, Meleanor took the seat on the other side of the dining table. She leaned her egg close to her belly and simply let time pass with a steady lullaby.

And, unfortunately, this meant that you couldn't do anything as well. You're forced to sit there and wait with her while she gets lost in whatever is inside her head.

Just as you were about to zone out in your seat, Meleanor finally spoke.

"It was only for a brief moment, but I'm more than sure that my son heard your voice. It was when Malleus and I were wandering around these very woods as a means of staving off my boredom. And just as I was about to craft a most impressive tower of thorns, I heard your voice, along with those playful pixies right by the riverside. And my son heard you as well."

"Huh," you tapped at your knee, trying to recall what she's talking about. You can't. "What does that have do with you bringing your egg here?"

There was only the lightest flare of green fire over the hem of her dress, but she reigned it in. She is a guest after all. She can't very well rampage inside this house just because the pixies gave the okay for her to visit. It's why you're letting yourself be a little more lax than usual.

Meleanor gave a sigh, letting just a fraction of her rage go. "Already, before he's even born, Malleus is rebelling against me. I would be more proud if it weren't due to your influence. But, I have no choice in this instance. What my son wants, I'll give. It is my right to spoil him, especially at this stage."

"…Give him, my voice?" That's not exactly something you want to do.

"Malleus wants to hear more of your voice," she spat it out, as though the words were disgusting on her tongue, "He'll reject most of my and my husband's magic otherwise. Honestly, of all things for him to latch onto, it had to be a human's voice."

Wow, of all things…

"That's unfortunate," you sighed out.

"On my end, yes. But for you, it is a blessing that no other shall receive, so best weep for joy at such a miracle. When I take my leave, that is. I don't want to subject my child to the grating noises of a sobbing human."

Meleanor is certainly hating every moment of this, isn't she? Guess you should be thankful that, no matter where you are in time, Malleus attaches himself to you quickly. How nice.

But oh boy, you hope this doesn't have any consequences when you finally figure out how to go back to your present.

[sakkiichi]

hello!! i saw that ur requests is open :D may i request gn! reader with blade? maybe a mixture of angst and hurt with comfort where the reader feels insecure of themselves bc they heard ppl whispering abt how the reader is not suitable to be blade’s s/o, things like that

would like to ask for a happy ending bc of my sensitive heart whehdhd

take ur time writing this! feel free to delete it if u dont have the motivation/ideas <3 have a nice day 🫶🫶

DON’T LET ME LET THE DARK TAKE OVER.

Hey, nonnie ! thank you for requesting, you’re actually my first request on here <3 I hope you like it and that this is what you wanted ! I’m sorry it took a while, I hope you still enjoy, dear.

Blade x gn! reader.

genre/cw: angst to comfort and fluff, mentions of insecurity.

word count: 800 words.

You’re starting to believe they are right.

The rumors, the side glances, the occasional snickers.

Maybe it wouldn’t bother you so much if the reason was another, but your heart was always on your sleeve when it came to him.

His swordsmanship skills were certainly the talk of town, and you knew well you can’t be liked by everyone, so the prospect of rumors arising when you and him got close was not far fetched.

And yet, your heart sinks every time wicked whispers make it to your ears.

You aren’t sure if you’ve started going crazy.

On the street, at the grocery store, at work… you can feel eyes boring into you whenever you go outside.

So you reach the conclusion it’s safer to stay home.

At least that way you don’t need to hear rumors added to the insecurities already spiraling in dark swirls inside your mind.

Your bed is more comfortable, anyway, yes, you’ll just call in sick tomorrow at work, it’s not like anyone will care.

Turning around in bed, you tuck the covers closer around you. You wish your lover was by your side right now.

‘And you think you deserve him?’ A cruel voice whispers at the back of your mind.

Your lids flutter closed; if you stay really still, maybe, just maybe, the whole world will forget about you.

“[Y/n], I’m home.”

Damn, maybe not everyone will forget about you.

Still, you don’t get out from your cocoon when you hear his footsteps; nor do you run to hug him as you used to, even when his soft yet slightly raspy voice reaches you, more desperate by the minute.

Then, light in rusty hues floods into the bedroom, relief palpable in your partner’s tone when he sighs:

“Good. You’re here.”

However, the stellaron hunter’s happiness is short lived.

You look… dimmed.

To Blade, you were the ever-light that rose in the zenith of his black hole infinities. Right now, however, all he can see when his eyes of bleeding rubies catch sight of you is colorless fog, dull gray over the rainbow speckled meadows you usually smiled in. A broken solstice of decaying ashen flowers.

“[Y/n]! [Y/n]!” Your boyfriend steps closer to your unreactive body. “Hey, I’m here, it’s going to be okay.” He carefully pulls the covers away from you.

Fallen moonbeams stain your cheeks, salty with bitterness and hurt.

“Ren…” You mutter, still not facing him. Your body trembles, you look so frail right now. “Why are you here?” You choke out, voice low, the broken crackling of lightning in the distance.

“I’ll always be here.” Blade tells you, softly, running a hand through your hair, turning you around to face him.

“But why?” You put your palms against his chest, over the steady heartbeat that used to lull you to sleep. “You could do so much better, Ren. Why stay?” Your teary eyes still won’t look at him.

“No.” Your lover states, sharp, the edge of metal cutting through heavy star-obscuring clouds. “It doesn’t get better than you, angel.” He says, chapped lips tender against your hair.

“But it does, Blade…” Your voice breaks, parted clouds weeping for you. “I hear them, everyone agrees that I’m not good enough for you!”

“Who is spouting such nonsense?” Your stellaron hunter asks, his tone taking on a dangerous lilt.

“Everyone! When I go shopping, the neighbors, even sometimes when I leave work… I-I’ve even gotten some passive-aggressive comments on whether we’re still together or not…”

His hold on you tightens, strong arms hugging you closer to him.

The fact that someone else has made you feel like this makes Blade’s blood boil. If it wasn’t because you would certainly try to stop him, he’d be ready to torn to pieces anyone who ever made you think you’re less than enough.

The stellaron hunter’s strength was never in his speech, so, as liquid moonlight trickles down your cheeks, he keeps you from breaking.

His once ensnaring grip was always devoid of thorns when it came to you, only deep crimson blooms flourishing in his wake.

“They’re wrong.” Are the venom laced seeds fallen from the vermillion petals that surround you. “You’re perfect for me, no matter what. You’re perfect, I won’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.” Each statement is punctuated by his arms squeezing you softly, so delicate in contrast to his icy tone, like the first fall of snow dusting over a rose garden.

And maybe it’s because you’re too tired, or perhaps because Blade’s caress is akin to watching the stars rise in a poppy field, but you don’t try to retort.

The moon is high when your lids flutter closed, your lover’s heartbeat a comforting lullaby.

In your dreams, you and him imprint angels in the snow.

In the real world, Blade kisses your temple, his arms secure around you.

The new dawn looks bright in the distance.

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 4 - MONTH 3 - GROWING PAINS

First - Prev - Next

Everything hurts.

I started noticing it about two weeks after my first dose. It felt like a dull headache at first, but over the next month it spread to pretty much my entire body.

I had to start working from home, and eventually it got bad enough that I could only put in a few hours of work each day. My boss is a reasonable enough guy, but he wasn't going to pay a full time salary for part time hours, so I had to take a salary cut.

Luckily, my partner is around to take care of daily errands, not to mention being there to reassure and comfort me when the pain gets bad. They've been thinking about seeing if Lindwurm HRT is a thing, but they don't want to get the process started until I'm in the clear and can take care of myself again.

Gods I love them.

The reason the pain is happening, as best I can tell, is that my skeletal structure is already changing. I've gotten at least an inch taller, and my face has been reshaping into a feline muzzle. My teeth are getting sharper, and I'm developing proper fangs. I also noticed a little while ago that my fingernails and toenails had receded into their respective digits, which sucks for two reasons - I can't paint fingernails I don't have, and they are sore as HELL when I put any amount of pressure on them. I have to be REALLY careful with how I type to not inflict agony on myself. I'm also feeling my tail growing in, and even if it hurts, it's euphoric as HELL. A tail was always the part I wanted most out of this.

It's weird, the skeletal changes weren't supposed to happen this early. I've been trying to reach Dr. Erian about it, but he's constantly busy, probably because of the sudden surge of people looking for Humanity Removal Therapy.

Other than that, I've been getting areas of white and black fur coming in - mostly on my arms and legs, but a little bit on my face and ears - ears that are gradually reshaping and migrating. Nothing to report on hearing sensitivity, but I think my night vision is getting better.

I did a little bit of looking around for anyone with similar pain experiences. I got my hopes up when I found a girl, Antonina, who had a painful experience with Cat HRT, but it turns out it's because she took the rumoured Fifteen Minute version. She described the pain as "like bathing in an active volcano".

It leaves me wondering whether I would have preferred a 15-minute lava bath over a months-long full-body headache.

I ended up reaching out to her anyway, just because I wanted to know what I was in for in the endgame and feline HRT is rarer than I thought it would be. Sounds like the prey drive is the real deal - she keeps feeling the urge to bite this one girl who's on mouse HRT.

We've been spending some time comparing notes and getting to know each other. It's nice to know someone else who's going through this thing, even if our experiences aren't exactly one-to-one.

I also talked to my mother for the first time in nearly a year. I went No Contact with her a while back because she was only getting more obnoxious and combative about me being trans, but I figured changing my species is a big enough deal that I should keep her in the loop.

Besides, my savings had nearly dried up and I needed to ask her for money.

It… did not go well. She hadn't heard of therian HRT before, and once I explained it, she started panicking about how I'm "mutilating my body" with "untested treatments". I think I also heard her cry something about how her "son" is "killing himself", which is just multiple layers of insensitive.

At least she sent me some money. Hopefully it'll be enough to last until my transformation stops being agonizing and I can go back to work, and then I can go right back to pretending my family doesn't exist.

At roughly the three-month mark, I have a check-in video call with Dr. Erian. From the moment his face appears on screen, though, I can tell something is wrong. He seems… older, somehow.

"Hello, Miss Alexis.", he offers. He sounds tired. Sorrowful, even.

"Hey, doc." I have to ask about it. "Everything okay? You seem a bit tired."

"Nothing to worry about Miss Alexis, just the ordinary stresses of daily life."

Liar. I know I'm not entitled to details of your personal life, much less your professional secrets, but I know when something is eating at someone.

"…Does the word 'crossroads' mean anything to you, Miss Alexis?"

Huh? That came a bit out of left field. "I've… heard some other therian HRT patients use the term, but I don't know much of the details. Something about a point of no return?"

"Something of the sort." He lowers his head and seems to go from sorrowful to downright grim. "There will come a time, Miss Alexis, when you will have to make a very important decision in your care, and I ask that you do so with great consideration for the consequences."

I recoil a little in my seat. "Yeah… Of course I will. Any decision I make, even reaching out to you in the first place, I don't take it lightly."

"Good… That's good." His demeanor shifts back to his stoic, clinical self. I don't know what just happened, but he went somewhere for a moment there.

"Now then, I did receive your messages, I apologize for not getting back to you. You mentioned you were experiencing persistent and debilitating whole-body soreness?"

"Yeah. I can't even leave the apartment most days, it hurts so much."

"Odd… You are taking the treatment as directed, yes?"

"Of course. One tablespoon a week, just like it says on the bottle."

I see his eyes twitch behind his glasses. Did I say something wrong?

"…Teaspoon."

I cock my head to the side. "Say again?"

"You mean one TEASPOON a week, yes?"

I feel my heart sink. The dark smear on the dosage information… I could have sworn it said '1 tbsp/week'.

"…Could you hold on a second please?" I mute the mic and call out to my partner to bring the bottle of tiger HRT over. When they do, I unmute and hold it up to the webcam. I hear Dr. Erian take a sharp intake of breath as he notices the obscured instructions.

I set the bottle aside and the two of us share an awkward silence.

"So…", I begin. "…How bad is it?"

"The good news", he offers slowly, "is that you have only been taking three times the prescribed dose. An increased dose imbalances the growth rate of the different parts of your body, hence your pain and persistent weakness, but it could have been much worse."

I think back to the so-called Fifteen Minute version, and Antonina's description of it - like bathing in an active volcano.

Dr. Erian continues. "Assuming you return to a CORRECT dose, your growth rates will gradually level out over the course of the next month or so. It is my medical opinion that you should maintain a low-activity lifestyle until then, but you will eventually be able to return to your typical activity level, and you will also find that the physical effects become more… consistent."

"That's… reassuring. Thank you, doctor." I pause. Something I noticed a little while ago has been weighing on my mind. "There's one thing, though - do the treatments have… I guess you'd call them restorative or regenerative effects? I've noticed some old wounds aren't there anymore."

The doctor clicks his pen and brings up his notepad. "Interesting. Do go on, Miss Alexis."

"Well… I used to get lower back pain from a car crash injury I got a little over a year ago, but I haven't noticed it at all lately. Pretty much the only part that DOESN'T hurt… There also used to be some marks on my arm from a cat biting me when I was little." I give a slight smile. "The cat's name was Tiger, go figure."

Dr. Erian is writing the whole time I'm talking. "Yes, that is to be expected. Minor persistent injuries will fade over time as your body re-forms itself to a new baseline, even severe chronic symptoms may fade. If there are no other concerns…"

"Just one… Most of the other therian HRT patients I've talked to have gotten their meds as pills, so what's with the potion bottle?"

Dr. Erian pauses, and adjusts his glasses nervously, as if he's been caught out on something he doesn't want to admit to. "Well… advances in the field are occurring rapidly, and you are one of the more recent patients, so a more… streamlined option was available to you. I took the liberty of choosing the most compatible option based on your medical records, and that bottle is it."

"Okay… But what's IN it?"

"The active ingredients are antihominidone, which is your humanity-blocker, and a specialized formula of felistrogen, infused with white tiger genetic material. The rest of the fluid is a suspension used to dilute the effects, without which you would be looking at a short, but excruciating and potentially lethal process."

The Fifteen Minute version, I think to myself. I'm taking diluted Fifteen Minute meds. There's no WAY this isn't experimental, and I'M the experiment. I despise saying it, but maybe my mother was right to worry.

"But I'm afraid I really do have to go, Miss Alexis, my next appointment is waiting."

"G-gotcha. See ya, doctor."

---

Special thanks to @paintedbytosia for letting me write her in, and shoutout to @megamoonerjenny for coming up with 'antihominidone'

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

PLEASE I NEED TO READ MORE OF YOUR HANMA HCS, FICS ANYTHING. YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOOOOOOD

Nonny, you're starting to make me blush!! I wrote a thing about Mikey saying "Itadakimasu" to his girl one night when he couldn't sleep. And I saw a post tonight about how Hanma would oh-so-definitely say that too. And my mind buzzed in and out for a while, and here we are. I hope you like my take on Hanma saying "Itadakimasu" to his girl <3.

I can't guarantee this is wholly proofed. If anything is too horrific, let me know.

Also, thank you to @mitsuyeaah for the brain candy idea for this. I know the account is archived, but here it is anyway: GRATITUDE.

Imagining Hanma going down on you and uttering the phrase "Itadakimasu". 

It would fucking literally make your brain blurp out. But in those few seconds before you saw the white light, you hear him say it in a deep and gravelly voice. Dragging out each syllable, not breaking eye contact. Sticking his tongue out like he's about to eat the fuck out of a triple scoop cone from Thrifty (for you youngin's, Rite Aid) and smirking a little bit, his lips curling into that devious/evil smile just before his face completely disappears between your thighs. 

Oh? Sorry, you thought ... you thought he was going to go down on you right now? Aw, you're so cute. No, baby. He's not. He's going to bite your thighs and lick them to ease the sting that his sharp, pearly white teeth left behind. And then he's going to graze his soft, hot lips against your skin and make sure to breathe just heavily enough on you until you're practically shaking with anticipation/impatience for him to touch you where you need him to touch you the absolute most. 

His breath would tickle along your hip bone. He would drag the tip of his tongue across the skin just above the waistband of your pretty panties, pulling the elastic down a bit with his long fingers, dipping them in a little. Just enough to get your attention - like he didn't have your un-fucking-divided attention as it was. Dragging his dull (but well maintained) nails over your stomach and waist, hard enough that you can feel it but there wouldn't be too many marks. No, the marks will be left by his mouth, on the softest part of your upper/inner thighs. 

By now, he's marked up both sides of your legs. You're a complete mess and he's laughing at how much you're whining about what an asshole he is being. Is teasing you for this long really necessary? But he loves it. He loves making you squirm and beg for his mouth. He loves watching your body writhe around under his touch, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly as you try to catch your breath. It's intoxicating to him, knowing that you want him that badly. 

So, he slides your panties off and tosses them somewhere across the room. And then he dives right in, spreading your lips apart. In the least noticeable way, he flicks his tongue over your clit. It's just a little, just enough to make you jump and moan out his name. He wants you to keep saying his name like that, so he starts licking you in earnest, swirling his tongue around and around your overly sensitive clit. It's driving you wild and you're digging your fingers into his hair, pushing his face further into you. Raising your hips, trying any trick in the book to get him to plant his face deeper into your needy cunt. 

And he just loves that. He loves when you get impatient and try to take control. It makes him want to take you right then and there. But he won't, not yet. He wants to make you cum on his tongue first. He wants to feel your thighs shake against his cheeks and hear your muffled cries of his name as you finally clench up around him.

Once you've finished and released his head from the confines of your quivering thighs, he crawls back up to you, pressing his lips against yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it's so fucking hot. You're still trembling from the aftershocks and you can feel his cock pressing into your purple-blotched thigh, hard and ready. 

The way he looks down at you is such a perfect mix of self-satisfiction and utter desperation. He is starting to feel the need to plunge himself into your wet pussy and chase after his own release. 

And as you're wits come back to you, you smile sweetly at him, planning just how much you're going to make him regret making you wait for so long.

Taglist ::: @kazutora-kurokawa @viburnt @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82

[scekrex]

Hi I freaking love your writing! It is HOT!!!! I love you, love your work, thank you for alll you have done

Anyway, I have a nsfw prompt that kind of loaded, tran!reader is fcking Adam with a strap-on and Adam, out of it with horni, got fed up with the pace , flip reader over and start reading him with a brutal pace

Bonus point if you work in dialogue like "you are going to break me <3" "try not to before I'm done" , just Adam being bit of a mean bottom

Adam being a mean bottom is what I live for. Babe's a bratty power bottom through and through and no one can or will take that from me

Take me down, a little bit harder now

pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader

warnings: language, anal sex

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Your hips slapping against his ass, his breathless moans and your heavy breathing were the only sounds that filled your bedroom. Adam underneath you was visible enjoying himself, on all fours he kept rocking himself back and forth on the strap on you had bought ages ago - it turned out that the self claimed dickmaster not only liked getting his dick wet, he also loved taking dick.

You gave it your all, snapped your hips forwards as harshly as you could while you also tried to keep the pace up, given that this was not your first round of the day you were quite tired already - not that this little fact would make you less horny though. “C’mon bitch, gimme fucking more,” Adam tried to provoke you in the most obvious way possible and while normally you’d put him in his place, your body was too tired to manhandle him and fuck him even harder. “Shut the fuck up, I’m trying,” you responded, sounding a little too focused for the fact that you just kept punding into him. Adam wriggled his ass as he kept moving his hips back and forth to meet your thrusts halfway through, he felt so overwhelmingly full and yet it was not enough to push him over the edge, not when he knew what you were capable of doing to him. So he made a decision.

He moved his hips forwards as you pulled back, causing the strap on to leave his body and while the emptiness drove him even more insane than the feeling of your thrusts leading up to nothing at all did, he was willing to pay that price for a short time. He turned around, the look in his eyes told you that he was done fucking aŕound, the first man was to finally orgasm, he wanted to reach his climax. “What the-” you were interrupted by Adam’s lips. The brunette had basically thrown himself onto you, pinned you down against the mattress as his hungry lips claimed yours. Your body was just as surprised over the sudden change of position as your mind was, having Adam on top of you was always nice and would never be something you would turn down. The first man bit down onto your bottom lip just as his hips sank down the rubber dick, that way he kept more needy moans from escaping his lips. “If you want shit to be done fucking right then you have to do ‘em your fucking self,” the brunette somewhat complained as he lifted his hips yet again just to press his ass flush against your hips again a moment later.

His large hands pressed down onto your chest to keep you pinned to the mattress, his ass slapped against your hips twice as fast as you had been fucking the first man, desperation hung heavy in his voice as he whined right into your ear, his lips attached themselves onto your jaw, sucking and biting the sensitive flesh. “You're going to break me,” you commented on Adam’s almost animalic behavior, he was acting like he was in heat, like the strap on was the only thing that kept him grounded and dulled the physical pain he’d go through otherwise. Not that you minded - not at all, you liked it actually. “Try the fuck not to before I'm fucking done with you,” he growled back at you.

Your hands were roaming over the brunette’s back, squeezing his ass every now and then and ghosting over his hips. “For the sake of my fucking dick, you better start jerking me the fuck off,” the first man huffed between moans and groans as your hands held onto his hips. That on the other hand he did not have to tell you twice, one of your hands was wrapped around his erection in no time, causing the taller - quite vocal - man to cry out your name in pleasure. He quickened the pace once more, eager to meet your hand and the thrust of your hips, he needed every little bit of stimulation he could get and he’d gladly chase the feeling if needed. He was too horny to be embarrassed about how needy he was acting, his brain too fogged up by lust and clouded with desire as he chased the needs his body screamed at him to fulfill.

Your thrusts grew sloppy and so did his hip movement, his arms started to shake against your skin, he had trouble keeping his head up so he simply buried it in your neck - that was also a good way to muffle the sounds that kept spilling from his lips - as he continued to work for his climax. You loved how vocal Adam got when he was close, or when he was needy in general, because the sounds this man was able to make were divine through and through. And despite you two doing the dirty and staining your pureness, he made your name sound so holy and untouchable when he moaned it out loud, for everyone to hear.

With a cry that sounded like a mix between ‘Fuck’ and your name the first man spilled his load, covering not only your but also his stomach in the hot, white fluid. And despite him reaching his breaking point, he kept thrusting his hips up to meet your touch, the touch that made him feel so good, so desired, and down to meet the rubber dick that made him crave more, that made him shudder and bend over every single time. However, it didn’t take long for the exhausted brunette to collapse on top of you. He mumbled sweet, blissed out nothings against the bruising skin of your neck that he had marked up all prettily and you simply petted your hair. Golden wings wrapped around you as Adam rolled over, taking you with him in his arms. You could tell the first man was about to fall asleep and even though you knew the feeling when you’d wake up later would be absolutely nasty, you allowed yourself to fall asleep as well.

[midknitefox]

Nova Bamon.

Close ups + info dump under the cut ^^

absolutely obsessed with her freckles

anyways ahem

Nova Bamon is the daughter of one of the scientists at Urbanshade, an experiment conducted in secret for a long time before the breach.

Nova was only three years old when the experiments began.

She lived a life of solitude, kept in a self sufficient aquarium style tank in a secluded room.

She underwent procedures as her father wanted to try to solve gills before the rest of the company to prove himself. He quickly gave up when she gained her monstrous form, instead resorting to conducting experiments to see what exactly was happening to her.

Once discovered by the company, Nova was still isolated, as her father was disallowed from working on her.

She was incredibly violent, and had associated all forms of physical contact with being jabbed by needles. This led any who attempted kindness vulnerable to an attack.

Doctor Bamon, her father, kept very limited records of her, so the company had to try and figure out what exactly she was on their own.

Which meant more poking and prodding with needles.

Hint, it was Bull and Mako sharks ... maybe more things, haven't decided. suggestions open.

Her tank and enclosure room were kept dim, as she was noted to have extremely sensitive eyes.

Her excellent sense of hearing, quick speed, and agility led her to resisting experiments, hiding in various spots in her tank. Eventually the project was abandoned altogether when she was 16.

She spent the last 4 years before the breach in solitude.

When the breach happened, initially she refused to leave her tank, until she sensed the panic going on in the building.

When she did escape the newly unlocked room, she killed anything that came within sight.

Once her temper had cooled, and she'd become acquainted with Sebastian Solace, she found herself a medium sized tank, which shed find to sit in at times.

Nova, despite her extended solitude, cooperated quite well with Expendables, going as far as offering hints and tips, which had a mixed result- as she often lied, some of these would get Expendables injured or even killed.

If flashed by a flash beacon, she would hunt and kill everyone in the vicinity, her feral nature coming into play.

Nova has a tendency to return to her room, hiding for what is often hours at a time.

Nova has incredibly sensitive eyes, bright enough lights will render her blind for hours.

She has strong senses of smell and hearing as well, and tends to gravitate towards the smell of blood.

She likes the smell of blood, and seems to enjoy the taste as well.

She's very unpredictable, doing whatever pops up in her head.

She has an aversion to touch.

She also has a habit of making empty threats.

"Me?... my name is Nova... But if you tell ANYONE that, I will tear the flesh from your bones and feed it to the shark." Nova

She believes that anyone who knows her name can leverage it against her.

"Oh come on, just give me your arm, and I promise you can go home to Mommy. It won't even hurt. Please, Nova?" Doctor Bamon

She sees herself less as human and more as animal, and as such if supplies get low, is willing to eat dead Expendables. She already seems like she could eat more anyway, and you don't want to come across a starving shark...

She can breathe underwater through the use of gills.

Nova will ambush people.

Doctor Bamon, who is still alive, has in fact been trying to get his hands on her, which is kinda hard since she's in the facility and he's safely not.

Low-key shipping her with my expendable OC, a dancer who found himself framed for his sister's murder and ended up down there. Casually teaches her to be human. he's based off my Roblox avatar UMMMMM

low-key redraw of an old art. he's chill. His name is Anansi (someone else named him cuz he's very spidery originally but I dulled it down to be human)

that's all if u read this far I'm so sorry ok bye

[eldritchamy]

Hi, its the former Feralist again.

The worldbuilding just really struck a raw nerve on first glance? On second glance it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought but it STILL infuriates me on a couple of points, mostly in implications that people failed to think through. I've calmed down about it, because it IS just kink, but there are parts of the worldbuilding that I still cannot touch without being viscerally upset.

(I could get into depth if you want, but once again, it is just kink; I don't expect kink writers to think about every last implication of their worldbuilding.)

Anyway, I am currently reading my way through Abscission, which is helping somewhat with certain things that upset me wrt disability and stuff. I'm really excited to read your suggestions!

Signed, A (Formerly) Committed Feralist

(P.S. *specific* things... What appeals to me wrt inevitability in D/s is less "I can MAKE you submit whether you want to or not" and more "We both know you'll submit, because we both know that you *want* me to dominate you", which is not always the vibe in HDG. Sometimes it is, though! And that's why I'm still here! Also that little bit near the end of Grand Folia where Celosia says something along the lines of "Its not that I'm an Affini and you're a terran and I'm better and you're lesser. Its that I would ALWAYS find you - in any time, in any place, in any form - because you ARE mine" really REALLY fucking got me.)

(P.P.S. I may have written a few hundred words of a fic about an Affini playing a convoluted game of cat and mouse with a cute, awkward, evasive little terran who may or may not be a feralist spy. The Affini can't make up her mind, because every time she catches her at something suspicious, there's always a perfectly plausible explanation! Its gonna drive her absolutely NUTS.)

It sounds like you're more into dubcon than noncon. On one hand, this is the noncon intox kink petplay bdsm scifi setting, so a certain amount of noncon is pretty baked into the world at a systematic level that you're either okay with or you aren't.

But on the bright side, there ARE fluffier options that skew more in the direction of what I think you're looking for, because the setting ALSO heavily features things like hurt/comfort, recovering from trauma, learning how to love yourself, and accepting that you deserve to BE loved and cared for by others.

Abscission is a really good one for a protagonist that consistently and very insistently reaffirms their consent at all times. Autumn is very sure about what she wants and frankly spends a lot of time bullying Solanum about not being afraid to give it to her.

From what you're saying, I think you would really like a newer story that's only 3 chapters in called Good Sensory. The tl;dr is that there's an independent human who's too ace and autistic to feel comfortable around most Affini (who tend to be very flirty and touchy and she can't stand a lot of their textures), and an Affini who is ALSO really ace and autistic instantly wants to give her the world. The Affini is VERY sensitive, patient, and accommodating with her neurodivergence and goes out of her way to be very direct about her feelings and intentions.

Marsha (the affini) literally has this internal monologue about Sally (the human): "I admittedly could twist her mind and dull her dislike of certain sensations, but it would be far more satisfying to simply alter her life such that she never experienced them in the first place."

The story was written basically in honor of how much the author (a very autistic woman) loves her very autistic partners, and the joy of giving them experiences that are comfortable for them.

In particular, I think you will REALLY like their first date in chapter 2, which is one of the most gentle and accommodating scenes I have read for all of HDG so far. It's SO sweet.

Someone in the server actually just collected a list of recommended fics that skew much more on the consensual side. NOTE THAT I HAVE NOT READ MOST OF THESE AND CANNOT PERSONALLY VOUCH FOR THEM.

Intake Interview Wild and Domestic Child of the Wilderness How To Tame A Polycule Fermata Art Exhibition Flotsam Heart Cross Pollination Surrogate Bloom Sycanthe Lantana Alone in the Dark, Together Germination Reading the Leaves Nurture and Acquisitions Perturbance A Normal Grocery Run During Which No Domestication Occurs No Gods No Masters (the primary storyline anyway) Hers to Have, Hers to Hold Petals and Vines Weeklong Stay at a J-Cafe (edited)

I AM currently about halfway through Petals and Vines and can absolutely confirm it's one of the cutest stories in the setting so far. I'm loving every minute of it. 500/10 adorable. Millie is everything, she is the light of my life and I would die for her. She's approaching DAWN levels of cute. DAWN LEVELS.

I would also add to this list:

Inosculate by SapphicSounds (the affini refuses to do ANYTHING with the protagonist until she explicitly asks for it)

Through The Looking Glass by PyxxieStyxx and TheMothCourt (the protagonist does get embarrassed/humiliated quite a bit, but she is VERY INTO IT and is given ample opportunity to back out or revoke her consent at any time, which she never does because she is having the time of her newly lesbian life right now)

I WOULD caution you against writing for the setting if you have mixed feelings about the worldbuilding, and especially if you haven't read some of the most foundational works of the setting like the original, Abscission, Divaricated, For A Better Universe, and a couple others. You should also familiarize yourself with the Rules and Axioms for the setting, as they're important for how the community functions as a creative space.

(The point is not taking things we like OUT of the sandbox to play with, it's bringing something of our own INTO the sandbox so we can play TOGETHER. But we play NICE in that sandbox, because we want the people who play in it after us to have that same joy we did. If your goal is to CHANGE something about the setting, then you're not playing the same game as everyone else in the sandbox.)

I'm pretty confident at this point that I have a good feel for the lore, vibe, and mechanics of the setting to comfortably start writing for it, but even I'm still holding off because there are some other Big Foundational Stories (Divaricated, Wellness Check, No Gods No Masters, probably Nurture and Acquisitions) that I want to experience and understand first, because when I'm ready to start contributing, I want to make sure I do it right.

Also, there actually IS a story literally CALLED Cat And Mouse, and it's one of the top 10 stories in the setting (sorted for Kudos on AO3). I cannot personally vouch for it because I haven't read it and don't know anything about it beyond that it's a Predator/Prey dynamic, but it has the same author as Good Sensory and her stories (though incredibly varied, tone wise) haven't let me down yet. Sheepwave is a very evocative writer and whatever kind of mood she's going for her in her stories, you're gonna REALLY feel that mood.

Sweet Poppy (one of her more famous stories) is a blood curdling psychological horror story. I am terrified of Poppy. She's easily the scariest Affini I've read yet. That's a HARD story to read if you can't stomach it, but it's very well done. It's the kind of story that you can't stop reading and ALSO it makes you sick to your stomach.

The only other story I've read from the setting so far that filled me with anywhere near that kind of nauseating dread was Independence Is Easy by SapphicSounds. If you're REALLY into doll kink, you might love it, but if you're not, it's absolutely a horror story. I don't regret reading it, but I was definitely way more into the first half than the second half. The protagonist DEFINITELY needed to be domesticated, but not by this specific Affini. I've seen lots of people be REALLY obsessed with it, but based on what I can gather from your tastes, I would NOT recommend this one to you.

In regards to the worldbuilding, the main thing to remember is that HDG is at its core a WILDLY SELF-INDULGENT kink setting where the most immutable aspect is that everyone deserves to be loved and cared for and given a better life. It was made by gay auDHD trans women FOR gay auDHD trans women, and the real fantasy is just that there will always be someone there who loves us unconditionally while accepting us for our truest selves and telling us that we deserve to not hurt anymore. All of the scifi worldbuilding exists to supplement that. The Affini are overpowered by design.

It's not intended to be realistic, it's intended to be wish fulfilment where inevitability is coming for you, and that inevitability is kind, and loving, and PROFOUNDLY horny.

[meabh-mcinness]

I would like to ask since you're one of the few suppliers of good balam content I've seen. How big do you think balams breeding kink is?

First off, thanks for the complement!

Second off, the answer is just yes. This man’s breeding kink is so big. Literally, unless I meet him in real life, and he tells me otherwise, you cannot convince meet that he wouldn’t live just to breed his significant other if possible. Like, Nishi has recently confirmed that he still has long phone calls with his parents in his free time. He is such a big family that I refuse to believe he wouldn't enjoy filling up his partner and watching them grow with his childe.

I can very easily picture something along the lines of this;

Dull nails clawed at the sheets underneath you, almost ripping them to the point of exposing the interconnecting branches of the nest beneath. Your knees and forearms hurt from taking not only the brunt of your weight, but also the force of the long and deep snaps of Shichirou's hips meeting yours. You would certainly be bruised, but you couldn't care less at the moment. 

"Please," you pleaded. "More... Give me more." 

The size difference between the two of you meant that he had to scrunch up considerably to be able to spoon you properly, much less utter in your ear, but he leaned over anyway. Forearms braced around you, hot breath and sharp fangs brushing your lobe as he talked to you. 

"Patience darling. You're so perfect, let me enjoy it." Another particularly drawn-out and powerful thrust had you mewling into the blankets beneath. Small hands scrambling for purchase as his strength, still held back even now, left you careening forward with every jab. 

"So wet, warm, and tight. You're just built to take me, aren't you? My little human, so deprived. I want nothing more than to sate your needs. Fill you up till life's taken in you. Leaving you heavy with my brood. " A gentle nip on the tip of your ear was followed by some shifting, one scaled hand tracing down your body, pausing briefly to circle your stomach before continuing onwards. Only stopping when it reached the sensitive bundle of nerves right above where you joined. A favored spot of his once he discovered the pleasure it brought, back before, when he was still nervous to take you in such ways. 

He could see it now though, his hands splayed in wonder over your belly swollen with his lineage. Could practically already feel the baby moving inside you as you went about building a nursery nest. Watch you putter around with ever increasingly swelling breasts, keeping a careful eye on the little ones already born as they played. After all, he couldn't settle for just one babe. 

 Would your human side win out and produce live young? Or would his inherent gargoyle genes prevail, and you'll be forced to contend with egg-laying? Would they look more like you or him? Or, maybe, even a perfect blend of the two of you? 

The second his clawed hand started circling your bud, you felt the ever-building taut coil in you finally snap again for the third time that night. Pleasure rushed through veins better than any drug ever could as you came with his name on your lips. The fluttering of your walls clutching at him was enough to bring him to fruition as well, snapping his hips a bit harder than he meant to. 

Gasping your name out like a prayer before turning his mouth to your shoulder. Large, sharp fangs cut through your skin like butter as he rode out his high with you. It would be impossible for you not to feel it, from the throbbing of his dick to the absolute warm flood that left his body into yours, filling you up just as he had said. 

When you both were finished and done shuttering, he finally released your shoulder from his grip, licking up the blood that started piling up, making sure to cover every last tooth mark. It had been a rather lucky discovery to find out demon saliva had the same healing properties for humans that their blood had for demons. Satisfied with his work, he carefully unfurled himself to sit back on his knees and admire his handiwork but made no move to unsheathe himself. 

You lay there dazed, still in the headspace left behind by the orgasm that left your body shivering in its afterglow. Even from this position with your back to him, your oh-so-vulnerable back that stirred something in him again, he could see the slight bulge in your lower belly that was further proof of your joining. And he couldn't help but, in his mind's eyes, see it even bigger and rounder, rather than the cylinder shape of him. 

'Well', he thought as he gently turned your body over, still sheathed so deep inside you, 'there is only one way to ensure it comes true'. Leaning over again, he tended to the other side of your neck, nipping and suckling as he made his way down your body to your breasts. Looking up briefly, he caught your eyes, filled with both apprehension and desire for what was to come. After all, the night was still young, and you-

"Aren't done yet, darling."